#one fun fact about me is that every SINGLE jean jacket i own i paint custom art on the back of

[theseancekid]

SORRY I’VE BEEN AWAY I’VE BEEN PAINTING THIS CUTE LIL GHOST JACKET

[anabsolutetrainwreck]

oh, honey || h. styles

warnings: mentions of sex, kissing

word count: 2.3k

summary: when harry is struck with writer’s block, you come to the rescue and inspire him to write a song, which later becomes known as ‘adore you’...

You’d be lying if you said you weren’t harbouring a crush on a man you’d known for about five years. And for four and half years of that, you found he was the only thing that seemed to occupy your mind. With any crush, it was fun at first. The thrill of being around him brought a new spark to your life. But then, gradually, it became tiresome; the constant butterflies and the overthinking every tiny action began to aggravate you.

You’d had a boyfriend since you met Harry. He loved you and you tried to love him. You knew it wasn’t fair on him, and you felt an ounce of extra guilt every day that relationship went on. You knew it was selfish to paint yourself a mirage of a perfect life with a man you knew you couldn’t love.

The relationship lasted eight months. It had never meant to last that long. At first, it was all fun and games - neither of you took things too seriously. A bit of harmless sex and late nights with red wine and David Attenborough documentaries. But then things took a turn, and he began talking of moving in together and meeting each other’s parents. Your parents would have loved him, you knew that. But what good was that when you didn’t love him?

Eventually, the two of you sat down and decided that maybe it was best if you went your separate ways. It was a mutual decision. And you both agreed that it was fun whilst it lasted. So, this relationship you’d gotten yourself into to get your mind off Harry had ended because you could never love this man the way he wanted you to.

It had been a rough eight months for you. Harry had been in somewhat of a mood with, well, everybody. Mitch concluded that he was probably just stressed with writing for the album and making sure everything was perfect for his debut solo album. But, though nobody necessarily picked up on it at the time, when you announced that you’d broken up with your boyfriend, Harry seemed to be in a much better mood ever since.

So, now, as you walked into the studio, you ran your hands along your jean-clad thighs. It was a desperate attempt to rid your palms of the sweat your nervousness had caused. Sarah had called you and asked if you were free to swing by the studio. She said something about needing a new mind to help Harry. Instantly, you agreed. You would always be there for Harry.

Sat on one of the couches was Harry Styles himself, his hand over his eyes. He was alone, his guitar beside him. A notebook of his lyrics was tossed aside, clearly neglected in tiredness or frustration. “Harry?” you called out, closing the door behind you.

He looked up quickly, startled by the sudden disturbance. “Y/N,” he smiled slightly, sitting up properly. “What are you doing here?”

“Thought you could use some help,” you shrugged, slipping out of your black puffer jacket. “And clearly you need it. Where is everyone?”

“Oh, they went to get some lunch at some place down the road,” he replied.

“And what about you? Aren’t you hungry? You need to eat, Harry.”

“I know. I will, I will. I’m just trying to finish this song, is all.”

You nodded slightly, sitting down in front of him on the coffee table. His hair was disheveled and his eyes were resting on top of dark bags. “Let me see,” you said, extending your hand.

Slowly, he placed the notebook into your hands. You stared down at the scribbled lyrics. Things were crossed out; things were circled; things were accompanied by little doodles. On the very top of the page, though, was the rushed title (above a few others, which had been crossed out): ADORE YOU. “I’m just gonna put it aside and come back to it,” he sighed. “Wanna get high? It always helps me write music.”

“No, Harry. I don’t want to get high with you. If you leave it, then you’ll never come back to it and nobody will ever get to hear it,” you replied.

“Except you. I want you to hear it,” he said quietly, so quiet, in fact, that you barely heard it.

He wasn’t looking at you, thankfully. At least he wouldn’t see the mix of nerves and excitement at what he’d just muttered. You shifted slightly, placing the notebook down beside you, “Well, then you’ll have to finish it, won’t you?”

Finally, he looked up at you. You felt tiny as his eyes explored your face, drinking in every last inch of your features. A small smile worked its way up onto his face, “I suppose I will.”

So, Harry began projecting his ideas onto you. He explained what the song was about and the kind of things he wanted to write. He sang the chorus to you, and you swore you melted right there and then. Hearing his voice fill the otherwise silent room you were in, with no other intent than to please you, filled your head with all sorts of fantasies. “It’s good, Harry. It’s really good,” you nodded, smiling sweetly at him.

“Obviously not good enough if I can’t think of anything other than the first verse and the chorus,” he groaned, raking his long fingers through his unruly hair.

In a moment of fleeting confidence, you reached out and squeezed Harry’s hand. He looked up at you, his green lagoons of eyes staring directly into your own. “Harry, stop. You’re doing yourself no good thinking like that. No songs start out as the greatest thing ever written; you have to put time and care and effort into them,” you said gently. “Let me help, Harry. I don’t want you to go through this alone.”

He nodded, squeezing your hand in return. He pulled out a pen and stared expectantly at you. You smiled - you were happy he was willing to let you help. “What did you have in mind?” he asked, eager to hear a new outlook on these lyrics he had grown sick of reading over and over again.

“Well,” you began, “it obviously has a sort of ethereal vibe to it. So, summer skies? Like, maybe something about ‘you under summer skies’?”

He nodded slowly, absorbing your suggestion. Until, suddenly, his eyes lit up. You knew the look. You’d seen it many a time before. It was the look he adopted whenever he’d been struck by the perfect slice of inspiration he needed to write an incredible piece of music. “You, Y/N, are a bloody genius! ‘Your wonder under summer skies’,” he grinned.

He scribbled the lyric down desperately. You couldn’t help but admire him as ideas escaped his brain and fell onto the paper before him. He finally looked back up at you, the page now littered with prompts and snippets of lyrics. “Thanks, Y/N. You’re a lifesaver,” he said.

You chuckled, “I didn’t do anything.”

“Well, you didn’t do anything for my other songs but they exist because of you,” he rushed out, clearly not comprehending his words. “Shit. Sorry, that- that didn’t mean to come out.”

You smirked. You had the power now, after four and a half years of falling in love with Harry Styles and making a massive fool of yourself in front of him. He’d slipped up and now you were in control. “Yeah? What songs did I unknowingly contribute to?” your confidence was rare, especially when it came to things like this, and yet here it was.

Unfortunately for you, Harry’s natural confidence matched your own. A playful grin swept up his features as he said, “Wouldn’t it be more fun for you to listen to the album and figure it out for yourself?”

“Or you could just tell me the titles?” you asked, your tone hopeful.

He hesitated for a moment, his confident smirk faltering for a split second. But, before you had time to say anything else, he said, “There’s this song called Sunflower, Vol. 6. I wrote that because your favourite flowers are sunflowers. And I wrote Cherry because I know you love cherries. And then there’s Golden, because that’s what you are, Y/N. And then there’s Watermelon Sugar because I know that In Watermelon Sugar is your favourite book. And now Adore You, because, I swear to God, Y/N, that’s all I want to do.”

He was rambling and you couldn’t help but smile. Whilst you’d spent your days rambling to your friends about how you were convinced you’d remain single forever if he didn’t happen to fall hopelessly in love with you, it appeared that he’d been writing down all the tiny details about you in his songs. Because it was true: sunflowers were your favourite flowers and cherries were your favourite fruit and In Watermelon Sugar was your favourite book.

He was staring at you now, his eyes searching your face for some sort of a hint on how you were feeling. When you said nothing, your lips parted slightly, he went on, “Hell, I wrote Cherry years ago. I wrote it when you were dating that guy... what was his name?”

“Ollie,” you replied quietly.

He knew what his name was. He never forgot. It had been two years but he’d never forgotten the eight months of hell where he had to watch you cuddle up to him and take him home after your group of friends had gone out for drinks. He didn’t know why he wanted to hear you say his name again. Some sadistic form of self-torture maybe, hearing another boy’s name on your lips. “Yeah, Ollie,” he played it off as if he really had forgotten your ex boyfriend’s name. “I wrote it when you were dating him. And I’ve been sitting on it for two years because I thought if I released it then you would know I’ve been in love with you for four years. But then I just thought ‘you know what, fuck it’, so I’m putting it on the album. And Anna, that was about you. But I’ll never officially release that one. Because I wrote it one night when I was alone and I couldn’t get you out of my head and I needed to tell somebody how I felt about you. Even if that was just a bit of paper. But then I played it to you, do you remember? And you loved it, so I swore to never release it because it felt like I’d confessed to you how I felt.”

As you listened to him ramble away about all of these songs he’d written about you and how much you clearly meant to him, you couldn’t help but smile. You’d dreamed of Harry confessing how much he, well, adored you. And you’d only ever thought it would be an occurrence in your fantastical dreams, and yet here he was, staring back at you, rambling on about how much he loved you. “Wait, Harry,” you spoke up, “isn’t ‘watermelon sugar’ something to do with oral sex?”

You chuckled as he flushed, “That’s besides the point.”

“And what is the point?”

“That I’m in love with you and, I pray to God, you’re in love with me back.”

Overwhelmed with joy, you couldn’t help but throw yourself at Harry. The feeling of his hands around your waist in a way that wasn’t just a slightly prolonged hug goodbye after a night out or a slightly overly flirtatious gesture of Harry’s felt electric. Harry’s hands on you in a way that was meant to be a moment of appreciation shared between two lovers was how it was always supposed to be.

After so long of knowing one another, falling for each other and sharing life changing moments, everything was finally slipping into place. You’d been there when One Direction first began their hiatus. You’d been there when he cut his hair off. You’d been there when he went to Jamaica to write his first solo album. You’d been there, albeit your eyes were shut most of the time, when he was dangling a thousand feet in the air for the Sign of the Times music video shoot. He’d been there when you finished university. He’d been there when you lost your mum. He’d been there when your sister had her first child. He’d been your date to your brother’s wedding. All of these things, and you couldn’t help but feel they mounted to this very moment.

You pulled your head back, admiring his face for a moment. Your arms were around his neck and everything just felt... right. His smile was bright and his eyes were full of nothing but loving joy. Without another moment’s hesitation, your lips were on his. You weren’t sure who leaned forward, but all you knew was that this was what you’d been waiting for for almost five years. And, now you were here, showing Harry how much you loved him, the wait seemed worth it. “We’ve got so much time to make up for,” he whispered.

“Good thing we’ve got all the time in the world then, isn’t it?”

He grinned, embracing your body. All he’d wanted to do for four years was to praise it. And now he finally had the chance to. That was until the two of you heard a voice behind you, “We only left for lunch!”

[starbornvalkyrie]

paper rings [a nessian one-shot]

a/n: hey besties!! here’s some fluff for this fine saturday. i wrote this for my mate, my besta @vanserrasvalkyrie​ bc i love her to death and she deserves everything. i wrote this based on paper rings by taylor swift. enjoy!

acotar masterlist || masterlist of masterlists

When the sunlight hit his face, Cassian stretched with a groan and reached for his girlfriend. Girlfriend. Three years and he was still shocked that was the title he could call Nesta Archeron. When they met all those years ago, he could have sworn she hated him. He thought it might have been his high clouding his mind but no. 

Nesta gave him the cold shoulder every time they hung out, though he never failed to sense her eyes on him when they were out with his friends. There was something about Nesta that always drew him to her. Some sort of gravitational pull that made her irresistible--even as she pushed him away.

Cassian frowned when he found that the other side of the bed was cold, his girlfriend long gone for the day. Blinking slowly, he wondered if she told him what she was up to today. Not that she needs to, but she usually gives him a heads up. His thoughts were pulled away when his phone chimed.

A single text message from Nesta read, Morning, babe. I’m out running errands with Feyre today. I’ll see you later. Xx

Cassian couldn’t help the grin that formed on his lips at her use of the word babe, and he used that energy to get out of bed and prepare for the day. The day that he hopes will bring him one step closer to calling Nesta his wife.

He dialed Rhys, putting the phone to his ear as he fastened his watch around his wrist. He smiled fondly at it, remembering the day Nesta gave it to him saying, “Your old watch is too loud. Use this.”

Rhys answered on the last ring with a labored, “Hello?” followed by a female yelp and giggle. His brother shushed her, but Cassian’s brows furrowed.

“Is that Feyre?”

Rhys cleared his throat, “Yeah, of course, why?”

“I just thought…” He trailed off. “Nevermind, brother. Is everything still set for tonight?”

He could practically hear Rhys rolling his eyes when he replied, “Yes, brother, we’ve been over it a thousand times. It’s going to be great.”

“Okay, okay. I’ll leave you two to… whatever I interrupted.” Cassian almost gagged hearing Rhys’ stifled groan of a goodbye as he hung up, patting his jacket pocket to feel for the ring one more time. He was about to grab his keys when he noticed a note on their side table, the elegant script telling him who left it. Smiling, he picked it up and read.

Cassian,

Do you remember the night we first met? I remember it vividly, probably because I wasn’t as stoned as you. But what I haven’t told you is that I went home and stalked you on the internet. Full on FBI mode. If you tell anyone, I will not hesitate to kill you. Sometimes I think about how I tried so hard to learn every detail I could about you without actually talking to you, but now I feel like I know more than I should.

We’ve shared a lot these past three years, and I have to say that one of my favorite hobbies to share with you is reading. The days we spend wasting away in bed reading side by side are the days I hope we will continue to share for the foreseeable future. While they aren’t my favorite, I do enjoy the war novels and thrillers you keep beside your bed. I think I’ve read all of them by now.

I skimmed Catch 22 this morning and was particularly intrigued by page 143.

It wasn’t signed, but Nesta’s perfume lingered on the page, igniting Cassian’s senses. The memories she wrote of came to the forefront of his mind. She was shy at first, not wanting him to know the sort of books she enjoyed reading with her friends. But one night he snuck one off her nightstand. Needless to say, they’ve had their fair share of experimentation based on a few of her novels. And when she read his books and talked excitedly with him, he thought he’d propose on the spot.

Cassian rushed to his bedside table and, sure enough, Catch 22 is on top. He flipped to the page she mentioned. Another note fell out along with a blue paint swatch. The color looked familiar, but he couldn’t figure out where he knew it from. Shrugging, he read the note.

Cassian,

Do you remember when Azriel made us all help him paint his room? My favorite memory of that day was the fact that there was more paint on us and our friends than there was on the walls. You, of course, had the brilliant idea of jumping into the pool of Az’s apartment complex. At 8PM. On a January evening. No one wanted to join you, for obvious reasons. I still think you’re an idiot for suggesting it. I still think you’re an idiot for actually doing it.

But then again, I followed. You may have jumped first, but I went in, too. I will always follow you, Cass, to the ends of the earth.

Will you follow me, too?

Yes. One hundred percent, yes. Cassian would follow Nesta to the ends of the earth and back. He’d slay dragons for her or just sit back while she conquered them herself. He couldn’t think of a time when his world didn’t revolve around Nesta. While they played games of cat and mouse when they first met, it was always Nesta. For him, he would always follow Nesta.

Will you follow me, too? He absolutely would. There were no other directions on the note, but Cassian knew exactly where he needed to go. Carefully folding the notes, he placed them in his pocket next to the ring. Giving the pocket another pat, he grabbed the keys to his truck and made his way through town. Azriel moved out long ago to live with his girlfriend, but Cassian still knew how to get to his old apartment complex.

That night was one of the best nights of Cassian’s life, but not for the reasons Nesta might be thinking. It was fun, definitely, swimming in that freezing pool, alcohol the only reason they didn’t feel the icy bite of the water. But that was the first night Nesta laughed and smiled with only him. Sure, before then, he had seen her radiant smile and heard her mesmerizing laugh with their friends. But with no one else around them in the pool, Cassian had relished in the fact that he was the reason for her happiness. It was the first time he had dared to hope for something more.

The apartment complex wasn’t gated, so Cassian drove right in, straight to the clubhouse pool. He hopped out of his truck, leaving it running idle, as he searched the area. He searched the chaise lounge chairs and tables but only saw a towel and duffel bag that someone left behind. He walked the perimeter of the pool itself. Still nothing. Did he get it wrong? Was he supposed to go somewhere else? Confused and frustrated, Cassian was about to give up when something at the bottom of the pool caught his eye: a ziploc bag anchored by a can of paint.

“You have got to be kidding me, Nes,” he mumbled to himself. Cassian went back to inspect the duffel bag, cursing his cruel girlfriend the whole way. When he unzipped the bag, a note was on top. Have fun getting wet, was all it said. Underneath was a pair of Cassian’s swim trunks and an extra pair of clothes. Accepting his fate, he changed in the restroom, and dove into the pool.

Pulling the paint can--the same color they painted Az’s room--to the surface was harder than he thought it would be, but eventually he was sitting on the edge of the pool, feet dangling in the water that was a lot warmer than it was that night. Shaking the moisture from the bag and his hands, he took out the note, slightly shorter than the rest. Nesta knows he’d be impatient and nearly irritable by now, and he loved her even more for thinking about that detail.

Nice day for a swim, right? I wish I could have been there to see it, but don’t worry, I’ll have you wet and shirtless in no time later. But in all seriousness, I had a lot of fun that night. Getting to know you better in the pool is one of the highlights of our relationship and it’s something I will never forget.

But let’s go back to the beginning. Meet me in the place it all began. I’ll always be waiting for you.

Cassian grinned and pushed himself up to dry off and change. He grabbed the clothes Nesta packed for him, pleased to know she knew his style, and meticulously transferred the small box from his jacket pocket to the front of his jeans.

Knowing exactly where to go, Cassian made his way to meet his future wife.

---

Nesta waited nervously on the dock of a lake just outside of Velaris. She clutched the final envelope in her hands, reminding herself every few minutes not to ruin it. She sat on a blanket, a basket filled with Cassian’s favorite foods. She tried to push doubt from snaking its way into her brain, but she couldn’t help it.

She had been dropping hints to Cassian for months now but to no avail. After Rhys proposed to Feyre six months ago, Nesta felt that tug in her heart that told her she was ready. She practically told Cassian as much. She made it a point to talk about Feyre’s wedding prep every day, asking what he would want if he was in their position. She even went as far as showing him rings.

But Cassian hasn’t made a single move. Nesta knows he loves her, but does he not see her as wife material? Does he only love her for now? Nesta didn’t think so, and she didn’t let herself believe that, but the seed of doubt is still there, waiting to grow. To counteract the doubt, she decided to take things into her own hands.

Hence the basket and the notes. 

Her phone chimed with a text from Az telling her that Cassian just jumped into the pool. He got it on video. She laughed and asked him to let her know when Cassian left the apartment complex. While all of their friends were in on the event, Azriel was the only one she trusted to trail Cassian without being caught. Everyone else was tasked to decorate their apartment for a party after Cassian left on her scavenger hunt.

Nesta stood as she heard the sound of tires on gravel and braced herself as she watched Cassian step out of his truck and make his way towards her. Much to her amusement, she realized his hair was still a little damp from his impromptu swim, but he was also wearing the jeans and button down shirt she had packed for him as well. Nesta still counted herself lucky, praying to the Cauldron every day that this was the man that crashed into her life all those years ago.

Cassian stopped in front of her, surveying her from head to toe. His gaze sent shivers down her spine, but she stayed still as he scanned her set up on the dock, a smile gracing his lips as he most likely remembered what they’ve done out here. Multiple times.

Finally, he turned back to her and greeted her, “Hi, Nes.”

“Hey,” she said, voice low.

“What is all this?” He started to move towards her, but she held up her hand, nerves getting the best of her.

“I-- uh, we’ll get to that. But first,” she held up the note she held in her hand. “Last one.”

This time, he did step closer to her, but didn’t touch her yet. Ever observant, he knew she needed her space right now while her nerves went haywire. He stopped just in front of her, though, and asked, “Will you read it to me?”

Nesta’s eyes went wide, scanning the hazel ones she’d come to love so much. She saw only love and a hint of amusement staring back at her, so she whispered, “Okay,” and opened the envelope. With a few deep breaths, she began to read.

“Cassian. My best friend, my love. The biggest brute on the planet.

I don’t know how else to put this, but when I think about who I was when we first met, I can’t help but feel that I fell in love with you by accident. Don’t get me wrong, I am so glad that I did. But you know me, I hate accidents. I hate when things don’t go the way I want them to. And that’s you in a nutshell. I never know what’s going to happen, but I’m here for it, along for the ride for the rest of my life.

You know my past better than anyone else, even my sisters. All of the things that happened with Tomas… if none of that had happened, I wouldn’t have found you. I can even say I’m thankful for your past girlfriends, knowing that you wouldn’t be the man I know without them. We may fight, we may not be perfect, but that doesn’t stop me from loving you and hoping you love me in return.

Because I want it all, Cassian. I want you and all the complications you may come with. I want to kiss you randomly just because I can. I want to brighten your dreary Mondays, for you to wrap your arms around me while I cook, and everything in between.

You’re the one I want, Cass, in any way you’ll have me. Picture frames, dirty dreams, you name it.”

Nesta paused, steadying herself for the next part. She wiped the tears that started to fall from her eyes as she read. When she looked at Cassian, she could see the silver lining his own eyes as he gave her a watery smile. The smile she can’t imagine living without ever again. Steeling herself, she asked, “Are you going to make me do the knee thing?”

The corner of Cassian’s mouth turned up higher at that, decorating his face with that smirk that’s gotten him into so much trouble in the past. “You know how I like to see you on your knees in front of me, Nes,” he teased, making Nesta’s heart stutter.

“Brute,” she mumbled. “Fine.” Nesta adjusted her dress as she got down on one knee, holding the note in her palms. “I know this isn’t a shiny ring or anything fancy, but I don’t need any of that. I only need you, Cass. You’re the one I want until we’re taken to the next life and every moment after that as well. Will you marry me?”

Cassian hesitated for only a split second before he was on his knees in front of her, her face in his hands. “You stole my thunder,” he accused, his voice playful. When Nesta only stared at him with a cocked brow, he chuckled. She watched as he reached into his jean pocket and pulled out a small velvet, black box. Nesta couldn’t contain her gasp as he opened it to reveal a perfectly cut ruby set on a simple silver band. “You’re the only one for me, Nes. You’ve always been the only one for me.”

Nesta stared at the ring. “Cass…” she whispered.

“Are you sure you don’t want the shiny things? I can return this…”

“Don’t you dare,” she snapped. “Ring me.” Nesta stuck her left hand in Cassian’s face. He laughed but removed the ring from the box to slip it onto her ring finger.

They both watched in silence, the air buzzing with anticipation, as Cassian pushed the ring past her first knuckle then the second. Until it metaphorically clicked into place at the bottom of her finger.

A perfect fit.

Nesta launched herself at Cassian, tackling him to the deck with a searing kiss. Her heart thundered wildly, their tongues tangling as the words engaged, fiance, and future husband played on repeat in her mind like her favorite song. She pulled back to look down at her best friend, her everything, his eyes shining right back at her.

“I love you, Nes,” he said, voice low but thick with emotion.

“Until the end of time,” she replied with another kiss.

---

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[levisnackajack]

The Wrath of War

Chapter Fifteen

The conversations around the campfire grew slower and sloppier. Hange’s squad had brought out beers. Eden had some; but not enough for the alcohol to take over her mind. 

But, sufficiently enough for her cheeks to glow a light pink shade and for her eyes to continuously attach themselves onto Captain Levi’s face. 

He, on the other hand, looked incredibly perplexed as he stuck to drinking tea. Glaring in distaste at the looks of his comrades slightly boozed-up; Levi’s glower grew deeper every time they met Eden’s hazel eyes. 

Jean’s arm lazily rested around Eden’s shoulders and he pulled her flush against his side. The girl stiffened, dropping her head as she stared at the pebbles under their boots. 

“Eeeewwww....get a room guys!” Sasha giggled in her high-pitched voice. Connie slapped her shoulder and wriggled his brows at Jean; who in turn curled his lips upwards, the effects of his beer visibly painted against his cheeks lightly.

“Alright, is the Captain’s office free?” 

Levi snapped his head towards the younger man; emotionless veil intact, yet Eden knew better as she watched his eyes glint with cold wrath. 

She shivered under her clothes. 

“Don’t push me, straw-head.” 

Sasha and Connie broke into a fit of laughter, clutching their sides. Even Eren smirked widely as he watched Jean’s face disfigure into an infuriated scowl. 

He opened his mouth, ready to retort back but Hange beat him to it as she grabbed Levi by the shoulder. “Please, that office will already be preoccupied by our dear Captain and his immaculate stack of cleaning products.” 

That made the potato girl whip her head back and laugh harder; her twin following suit. Many of their fellow comrades joined in at Hange’s snarky joke that displeased Levi even more. He yanked his shoulder out of her grip, rapidly rising to his feet, visibly cringing when a tipsy Hange grabbed his sleeve. 

“No Levi, stay, I’m sorry, I was kidding!” 

He stared down at her, jerking his hand out of her reach whilst huffing under his breath in irritation. He remained quiet as he stalked back towards base; metallic eyes meeting gentle, golden ones in the last moment. 

Her fellow comrades went back to their previous conversations and Eden decided it was perhaps her time to retire for the night as well. After all, she had plenty of memories to go over in bed. Standing up lazily, she glanced down at Jean who raised a brow at her. 

“I’m tired, I’m going to bed.” Eden turned to bid her comrades a good night, stiffening slightly when Jean stood to his feet beside her. 

“I’ll accompany you then.” he replied huskily, waiting for her to begin her pacing towards the headquarters as they both disregarded the obvious whistling directed at their retreating figures. 

“My my, what a gentlemen,” Eden glanced up at the boy, one side of her mouth curving upwards in a sly smirk. He returned the smile, crossing his arms against his broad chest as he leaned against the doorframe outside of her room; shrugging nonchalantly down at her. 

“What can I say, I’m more than just hot.” 

Eden barked out a laugh, running a hand over her face as she tried pushing the blush off of her skin. “Sure, Jean, whatever makes you sleep better at night.” 

They stood outside Eden’s room silently, Jean lazily resting the side of his body against the wall as the girl settled her palm around the door’s handle. 

“Well, good night then.” 

Next thing she knew, Jean’s lips collided into hers with such sheer force; Eden was thankful there was a door the pressed against her back. 

Twisting the handle, Eden walked back into the room, soft sighs escaping through her even softer lips in between heavy kisses. Jean kicked the door shut with his boot and gracefully picked her up, arms snaking around her waist as her legs wrapped around his own. 

He kissed her hard, his tongue fighting for dominance that she eagerly provided him. Their teeth clashed as he bit down on her bottom lip, sucking lightly as a groan reverberated through her body. 

Jean threw her onto the sturdy mattress before pressing his knee in between her legs, bending downwards to capture her lips once more. Eden was so lost in the ecstasy of his kisses; her mind blank. Except, ever so often, she’d think of something that would make her blood boil; her back arch and her kisses harder. 

A low, gruff moan escaped through Jean’s parted lips as his fingers ran their course across Eden’s body before reaching back towards her face. He tilted her head to the side, fisting her hair in his palm as his warm lips left a trail of sloppy kisses from the flesh behind her ear, along the line of her jaw and then against her neck. 

His kisses grew urgent as she felt his teeth scrape against the side of her neck, an unfamiliar pain shooting through her, causing her to pant out in delirium. He sucked on the sweet spot of her neck, the pain waking her up completely. She arched into him, wrapping her legs around him tightly, fingers gripping the longer strands of his hair as his name slipped off the tip of her tongue wickedly. 

Jean devoured her skin like she was the air in his lungs, inhaling the sweet scent of chamomile flowers that layered against her flesh. After a long moment of her neck feeling overwhelmed by the sensations of Jean’s tongue, lips and teeth; Eden pulled his head back towards her face, kissing him soundly. 

She slowed the kiss down; urging him to settle close to her; tending to the nerves emitting out of him. He rested his weight against his right forearm, whilst the other one continued exploring her body; her delicate mewls stimulating him. 

But, that was all the night had stored for the both of them. The taste of each other’s lips lingered several hours later as they slept in her bed; Jean’s arm wrapped around her waist possessively. 

“Shit. No no no...-” Eden huffed under her breath as she stared at the pale skin on her throat and the highly visible love bite that was painted. She continued swearing under her breath as she tried pulling the collar of her shirt upwards, only to fail miserably at concealing it. 

She decided her only option would be to put her hair partially up and leave a couple of strands to curtain the sign of intimacy shared between herself and Jean the night before. Glaring with displeasure at her disheveled appearance through the mirror; Eden turned to Jean who stood smirking at her from the edge of the bed. 

“I should beat you for this,” she muttered under her breath, kicking his shin with her boot. He chuckled lightly, standing up abruptly, fingers tilting her face to the side as he stared down at the love bite. 

“Oh no, I’m so scared. How am I going to sleep soundly at night knowing Eden Chiasa is out to kill me?” 

Eden scoffed, shrugging her uniform jacket on, straightening the fabric with her fingers. “You better be scared. Let’s go, Jeanie-boy, otherwise I’m going to write a letter to your mother and tell her you’ve skipped breakfast today.” 

It was her turn to laugh as he blew a sigh out in irritation, knowing very well that Eden would really do such a thing just for the fun of it. 

“I like your hair down like this, Eden,” Mikasa complimented her sweetly when they made their way to the training ground. Eden’s cheeks flushed and she began stuttering. 

“Yeah, thanks, it’s kinda cold outside today...you know what they say...protect your neck if you don’t want to...catch a cold...-” she finished off with an embarrassed chuckle, swearing at herself in her head. 

What the fuck Eden?? 

They spent the remainder of their morning training and running laps; until Hange stalked over to the group, loudly beckoning Eren; who in turn was followed by her fellow raven-headed friend. 

Her heart dropped down to her guts at the sight of the approaching, gloomy-looking Captain. He went over to every single individual, fixing their postures, commanding Sasha to stop talking and making Jean do more laps just for the sake of it. 

Finally, he reached Eden. 

He was about to speak when his hard glare fell onto her neck. His lips pursed and she awkwardly shifted her stance from one foot to the other. Levi craned his neck to the side, the muscles in his jawline clenching hard. 

“Alright, brat, let’s see how much you’ve progressed since the last time we sparred.” 

“But Captain, you’re hurt,” Eden began nervously, only to close her mouth swiftly when he nonchalantly brushed her words aside. 

“I think I’m fine without your medical expertise, you idiot.”

He didn’t allow her with a moment to collect her thoughts as he lunged at her. forearm squeezing her neck, blocking her airway. Eden used the fact that she was pressed against a tree- once more- to her advantage as she snapped her head to the side in the last moment, Levi’s knuckles colliding with the wooden surface. 

Levi gritted his teeth and Eden struggled to dodge all of the hits he sent her way. He was lethal and had incredibly quick reflexes. It irritated the girl, causing her to fight back harder; trying her very best to mimic his movements. 

After several heated moments of Eden getting absolutely destroyed by the Captain; she caught him off-guard and aimed a punch for his nose. His head snapped back and she could see a thin trail of blood trickle down into his mouth. He looked back at her in such a cruel, unfazed manner; craning his neck to the side; spitting the crimson liquid. He glared at her from his peripheral vision and she stared back at him, chest heaving, knuckles shaking. 

Levi’s head bobbed in affirmation ever so slightly; surprising Eden completely as she feeling of praise washed through her. 

But that feeling was quickly replaced with outrage when he kicked her legs from under her, causing her to topple to the ground. Within a matter of milliseconds, Levi was on top of her, ice-cold fingers squeezing at her throat. She watched him with wide eyes, ignoring the way small blood droplets fell against her skin. It was a complete parallel to the moment they had shared in his office less than twenty four hours ago; when the atmosphere was serene, heartwarming and perfect- to Eden. 

Instead, the air hitched in her throat as his thumb pressed against the purple blemish against her neck; imprinting his grip over it. 

Eden curved her body upwards towards his, gasping for air as her fingers urgently shot out to snake around his hand. She stared into his hooded, wild eyes through darkened blotches; trying her best to loosen his grip. 

Levi abruptly let go of her and she choked on the overwhelming amount of air seeping into her lungs. Her eyes burned with tears as she clutched the tender skin on her neck before pulling herself out from under Levi. 

Eden began walking away from him; only to turn her head back to catch his sorrowful stare over her shoulder. 

She halted, lips parting as her bottom lip trembled. Levi watched her carefully.

In the last moment, Eden let out a short, humorless laugh before walking off; feeling utterly helpless as the tears began bleeding down her face. 

Eden skipped dinner and sulked around in her bedroom. If she had hated looking at the love bite on her skin before; now she despised herself. Spending long moments in front of the mirror; staring in awe at the bruised handprint sketched across her neck. She could tell how much more pressure Levi had placed in his thumb as it brushed over the love bite meticulously concealed by the newly placed discoloration.

Not long after nine in the evening; a gentle knock echoed through her room. Eden heaved herself out of the bed and swiftly opened the door with a deep, darkened frown etched into her features. 

“Hey, we missed you for dinner?” Jean inquired, handing her a piece of bread. The fatigue-ridden girl gently pushed his hand away, smiling weakly at him.

“No thanks, I’m not hungry. I’ve decided to have an early night; with everything going on tomorrow...-” 

“What’s wrong with your neck?” Jean frowned darkly as he stepped closer to her, shoving her charcoal waves of hair behind her hair. 

Eden froze as his warm touch and her brain immediately bombarded her with fleeting images of the Captain atop of her; his unfaltering grip compressing her throat until she felt like she was at the brink of passing out. 

Flinching, Eden awkwardly shuffled away from Jean, wrapping her arms across her chest tightly. 

“It’s nothing. Just an accident that took place today during training. I’ll live.” 

“Did he do that to you?” Jean seethed, glaring down at the unwavering girl.

“If you mean by he, our Captain, then yes, Jean. We always spar. Today, I managed to catch him in the face and I guess he didn’t like that.” 

Jean shook his head slightly, staring at the darkened bruise cloaking over his love bite. His brown eyes narrowed. 

“No, that’s not it,” he muttered under his breath, more as a tale to himself rather to the girl before him. Then, he snapped his glare back to her face and knitted his brows in frustration.

“How the hell could you be so stupid?” 

Eden stared at him in dismay, her mouth open as she searched for words in response. “Huh? What are you talking about, Jean? How am I being stupid?” 

Her questions seemed to fall on deaf ears as Jean watched her, drowning in distress. His eyes fell once more to her tattered skin before he walked off; leaving a stunned Eden leaning against her bedroom door; the chills of the hallway air lacing over her skin. 

With wide eyes, she watched him retreat; the anger practically dripping from him.

Her fingertips brushed against her neck once more, sending haze of heat through her heart.

Tags: @idiot-juice-enthusiast  @hadassackerman 

Link to the full story in AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28919136/chapters/70952145

[ivory-sunflower]

Arty Art Things ✨

Hellooo!

I've decided to post some of the arty things I've done either recently or in the last few years, well the pieces I'm somewhat proud of at least. All my posts tend to be a lot more wordy than they need to be but hey it's what I do here!

Conchúr White

Anyone one who's been on this blog for a bit will have probably have seen me talk about this lovely Irish fella. The pencil drawing is actually a year old as of yesterday, I only know that because screenshots of me flipping out about Conchúr following me on twitter popped up in my memories yesterday. I think I'd sent it to him at about 3 in the morning (I was not in a good head space at that point in time), so probably not what he was expecting to see when he opened his phone in the morning aha

The biro version is much more recent: I got bored while sat at my desk and doing research about university courses, saw a biro, saw my old drawing of Conchúr, had an idea. I revisited my GCSE art techniques and here we are. Again, I put this up on Twitter and now (at the the time I'm writing this) when you google "Conchúr White" it's the third top image of him which is a bit mad really. I think I spent all of about 20 minutes on Conchúr but another 45 minutes on the words behind him. The words are the names of the songs on his EP 'Bikini Crops', he doesn't just really love the idea of Channing Tatum driving him around at night in a daisy print bikini... Well maybe he does but what he does in his spare time is none of my business...

TechDif

So I mentioned that the pencil drawing of Conchúr came from a rough patch in my mental health and this one is no different! In fact this one came from an even worse circumstance so we love to see it. I had a bad, bad time in July and this started as a way of distracting myself from what was going on in my head. Without it, I can't honestly say I'd still be here so even if the final product of this had been a terrible mess I would still love it for keeping me alive. However, it did not turn out to be a terrible mess!

Now that the origin of this is out the way, where do I start with TechDif? Unlike Conchúr, I haven't really talked about them on here (unless you count one brief post about Citation Needed) before so I guess I'll do it here. The Technical Difficulties are a wonderful group of 4 British fellas who have had their fair share of fun online and even before. They did a radio show at university together, which went on to become their Reverse Trivia Podcast, later moving on to a panel show called 'Citation Needed': and a game called 'Two of These People Are Lying'. All of which I would thoroughly reccomend, they're one of my go to things when I'm having a rough time. All 4 of them are excellent! Tom Scott (red top, blue jeans on the picture) has his own YouTube channel which does content aside from TechDif. If you're quite nerdy and like science, linguistics, computers, or any number of other things you may enjoy Tom's channel. He is probably best described as "The Moderator" of the group, much like a tired teacher he tries desperately to keep everyone on track with what they're meant to be doing, but usually it does not end well for him. Then we have Matt Gray (space top, holding an ice cream) who also has a channel away from TechDif stuff, he does techy electronic things and has a series called 'Will it Soft Serve?' where he puts all kinds of strange things through a soft serve machine. Matt brings a very specific energy to TechDif and I can't fully describe what that vibe is but I love it. Matt and Tom also share a YouTube channel where TOTPAL is posted and they had a series called 'The Park Bench'. Moving on to everybody's favourite Gary Brannan: Gary Brannan (SATIRE hoodie, glasses) and can I just say, what a fella he is! He's just excellent! He is the one that will argue and rip into Tom the most (not in a malicious way) and hilarity ensues. There are some episodes where he is absolutely on it, getting all the points and others where he very clearly has no idea and that's where some of his funniest quotes come from. Given how badly I was doing at the time I made this, his response to it on Twitter was so so lovely. I specifically remember one tweet where he said I'd made him happy and although it was probably a flippant comment, it just made feel alright for a bit. Yeah I might be feeling awful right now, but I've made someone else happy so that's a nice feeling. Then last but certainly not least, we have Chris Joel (buffalo check shirt, beard)! I would be lying if I said he isn’t my favourite... His sense of humor is the one I vibe with most, he can get rather dramatic in parts and can chat bollocks like a champion. He has absolutely no online presence away from TechDif and, like Rens from Temples, I fully believe he’s a cryptid and lives off in a tree somewhere. 

The picture took me about 4 days to complete, well 4 nights because I did most of it between the hours of 12 a.m. and 7a.m. - I remember watching the sun come through my window each morning. It’s made up of lots of little pieces, all cut out and stuck on; even the sky and hills are made of separate pieces of paper. Nothing was actually drawn on the piece of paper it’s all stuck on, it’s not how I usually do things but if I messed up one little but I could just redraw it rather than ruining the whole thing. The most tedious parts to make were Chris’ shirt because I had to draw each square individually and then join the as well, and cutting out the ban-hammer in the bottom right was surprisingly hard. Every single detail of the picture is a reference to the podcast/shows, I still have the plan sketch and reference list knocking about somewhere. I listened to a lot of true crime videos while making it to the point that certain parts remind me of different cases: the brandy now reminds me of Peter Tobin, and the big spiral thing reminds me of Tim McLean (very harrowing case) - sorry that fact is a bit morbid but interesting nonetheless. 

I did post this for a little bit back in July, but I received some rather awful messages so I took it down. Generally, Tom Scott/TechDif fans are lovely but there’s been a few that have taken a disliking to me for some reason so I’m hoping they don’t resurface again. I’m in a better head space now though, so even if they do I’m more equipped to deal with it this time.

Hozier

This was a quick sketch I did in April, I was getting bored with lockdown and decided to summon the bog man himself. There’s not really much more backstory than that, no poor mental health story, no fun twitter story - he’s just here. He’s vibing. I will say I’m particularly proud of his nose, I just think it’s one of the best noses I’ve ever drawn. His hand is okay, but I think that the hands on my Conchúr drawings are better. So there is the Hozi-Boi...

The Corpse Bry

I’ve talked about Bry on here before as well, I love him, he’s excellent, top lad. He is a living Tim Burton character, he’s 6′6, very skinny, and his legs are longer than my will to live. I was watching ‘The Corpse Bride’ a few weeks ago and suddenly had an idea and so ‘The Corpse Bry’ came to be. I gave him a little panda friend because the panda has always been his animal - he used to wear a panda beanie all the time and his album had a panda on the cover. Again, there’s not really a fun story behind this one, I guess it’s somewhat fun because it’s the first art I made after finishing my psychology exams in October so it was nice to actually have the time to draw.

James Bagshaw

Ginger talking about Temples for the third post in a row? it’s more likely than you think! I did this one last week, I’d had a bit of a wobbly day and had group therapy on Teams in the evening and I just couldn’t concentrate on what was going on and I ended up doodling Mr James E. Bagshaw, the glitter crying fraggle man himself. It’s a bare-bones drawing that I could definitely work into more but I’m happy with it as it is to be honest. I’ll be damned if I’m going to sit and add the individual bits of fringe to his jacket, just thinking about doing that makes me tired. Maybe I’ll get around to drawing the whole band at some point...

Alice in “Wonderland”

This one is from about 5(?) years ago, it’s not my typical style and was a “study” based on another artists work (basically i just had to copy this fellas work). I’ll be honest, this one has a sketchy backstory that I won’t go in to because it’s not exactly a nice one, and because of that I also won’t say who the artist is that it’s based on. Despite this, I’m still really proud of this one and I’m so sad that I never got this piece back after I got taken out the class. I’ve considered trying this style again, I’ve even joked about doing another Conchúr drawing in this style as a nod to my progression through GCSE art, eventually leading to Conchúr drawn in ink on music manuscript and stained with neon paint and dyes - it would be quite the project!

So this has been quite a lengthy post so apologies about that but life goes on. Similar to the vinyl post, I’ll probably add to this as and when I make more art. Even if no one is reading these posts, I’m enjoying making them so that’s the main thing. It’s just nice to document things and the feelings that go with them. 💕

~ Love Ginger xx 

29/11/2020

[feverinfeveroutfic]

chapter six: the black night

Sam and Alex spent about an hour of that first day in Germany there in the hotel room, away from the world, and with only each other. Neither of them were fatigued from the overnight flight. She had considered on taking her journal out for herself and for a drawing of something, much like how she made a special drawing for the show in England. But she had no idea if she should share her work with Alex, especially when he caught a glimpse of her doodling a sunflower on the inside of the journal's cover.

He sat next to her on the bed, in his little shorts, white socks, and his Gary Moore shirt, and with his legs pulled up a bit, and his hands right between his thighs. She gasped at his looking on at what she was doing and she covered up the doodle with her hand. He in turn gasped in response to that. She realized that he had seen her art but he hadn't known that it was actually her.

“Is it okay if I have a peek?” he asked her in a small voice and with his eyebrows raised which enlarged his deep eyes a bit.

“It's—It's kind of private, though,” she told him.

“I liked it, though,” he confessed, still in a small voice. “Basquiat died a few weeks ago, so I like to see another artist ascend to the position of greatness at some point.”

“I'm no Basquiat, though,” she insisted.

“Well, yeah. Every artist is unique. Basquiat was one of a kind—and even from a small sliver of a glimpse into your art book here, I can tell that you yourself are one of a kind. And that little thing you were drawing just there piqued my interest a bit. So—” He bowed his head and he raised his eyebrows even more, which softened his face to that of a young boy. “—is it okay if I have a little peek?”

He then lifted his head.

“I mean, it's only fair. You got to see the beginnings of our new album—twice! You're also seeing the transition of eras between albums.”

She swallowed and she leaned forward a bit to make sure that they were alone in the hotel room: Greg had gone off with Eric and Louie to have breakfast, while Chuck and Tiffany went out somewhere.

She then moved her hand out of the way to show him the little sunflower.

“Oh! Have you seen the painting that Vincent van Gogh did? The one of the sunflowers?”

“I have, yes! A few times, actually! It's—probably one of my favorites from him, to be honest.”

His face then lit up and he snapped his fingers.

“You know—we are in Europe, and on the western side of the Iron Curtain no less. It's not like we're back on the West Coast where you kind of have to set aside a whole few days just to go from L.A. to some place in Oregon or wherever. We can get on a train and go up to Frankfurt and visit a museum.”

“Would you take me there?” she gasped at that.

“Samantha, this is Europe,” he told her. “Ever since the war ended, they've been all about a revival of culture here. So—you know, I don't really wanna sit around here in my shorts and watch German TV all day long, either. I know you don't, too.”

“I don't,” she confessed with a shake of her head.

“Well, then.” He clicked off the television and he stretched out his long lanky legs before him. “Let me put some pants on and we'll catch the next train up to Frankfurt. It's only a few hours anyways.”

“Maybe we can go up to Copenhagen, too?”

He stopped. “If there's time today, we shall see.” He flashed her a wink and then he swung his legs over the edge of the mattress, and he walked over to the bathroom with his jeans. Sam closed her journal and she tucked her pencil right up next to the spine as she set it off to the side on the bed cover. She climbed off herself to put her shoes back on; soon he came back out with his black hair a bit more frizzy than she had seen before and a big silver skull ring on his right hand.

“I can see you being a continental of sorts, Alex,” she confessed.

“A continental?” he laughed.

“Yeah. I mean, you're smart and you're in touch with the world at large, and you like art, too.”

“I dunno,” he said with a shrug, “I feel like if you're considered a continental, you actually have to hail from the continent of Europe. Remember, the last name is not only Jewish but it's Eastern European.”

He adjusted the big ring on his right ring finger: it almost looked too big for his hand.

“Why a skull?” she chuckled at him.

“Why not?” he asked as he flashed it to her. “It's actually a symbol of life. Like a carpe diem—a reminder that the clock is ticking for me and for all of us. I also wanna think for myself, too. I've also got it on my right hand because I ain't married.”

“Mr. Swinger,” she teased him, and he scoffed at that. “You are in fact a continental!” She picked up her purse and slung it over her shoulder.

“I've got a bit of money on me,” he assured her. “It's not a lot 'cause of the whole exchange rate and everything, but it's better than nothing, though.”

“I've got money, too,” she told him as they stepped out of there and into the hallway. He shut the door and tucked the room key into his front pocket.

“Remember if someone asks us, we're just hanging out together,” she told him as they walked on to the lobby and the front doors.

“Well, yeah, of course.” He chuckled at that, and they kept on going to the sidewalk outside. Chuck and Tiffany strode back into the hotel right then.

“Where you guys going?” he asked them in a big jovial voice.

“Frankfurt,” Alex promptly replied. “Taking the train up.”

“Have fun, kids,” Tiffany said with a smile on her face.

A beautiful but gray day there in Bavaria: Alex peered up to the sky overhead with his eyes squinted and his lips parted a bit as if he yearned for a glass of water.

“Think I could've brought a jacket with me?” he wondered aloud; the hazy sunlight made his smooth skin appear even more smooth than before. The little tuft of gray almost stood straight up over his brow.

“Nah, I think we'll be fine,” Sam assured him as she took out her sunglasses from her purse and put them upon her face. They walked side by side down the sidewalk: right at the corner was the sign to the train station, across the street and down the block from there.

“The trains around here run like clockwork,” he told her as they awaited at the corner, “especially those in Switzerland.”

“Like literal clockwork over there,” she said with a grin on her face.

“Exactly!” he chuckled at that. “They're nothing like the trains or the buses back in the States.” He ran his fingers through his hair, and especially through his gray stripe. “Think it's time to dye my hair again.”

“Why's that?” she asked him.

“To rid of this little thing of gray on my head.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

“I kinda like it.”

“You do?”

“Yeah. It's interesting. Like, why is it in a single little plume upon your head like that and not all over?”

“I wish I knew,” he confessed and they crossed the street together. Once he had caught up to her, he spoke up again.

“A few years back, I was brushing my hair and I happened to look down to the sink, and I saw a gray hair there. I picked it up and I wondered where it could've come from. So I showed it to my mom and she goes, 'oh, it's probably from your dad.' But my dad's completely and totally bald, though. He hasn't had hair on his head since before I was born—at least that's according to her, anyway.”

“Wow.” Sam was stunned by that.

“Yeah, and soon another one grew back there.” She thought of the nickname she, Aurora, and Marla had given him at the Legacy shows: the boy with the pearl in his hair. “And, you know that whole thing where you shouldn't pluck gray hairs because more will grow in their place?”

“Sort of, yeah.”

“Well, my mom told me not to do it for that very reason. What did I do?”

“You plucked that one?”

“Yeah. Next thing I know, I got a whole little pocket of gray right there in a few months time.”

She laughed at that.

“And yeah—I have to confess, I'm particularly self conscious of it.”

She stopped laughing right then.

“Aw. Really?”

He nodded his head at that with a downcast look upon his face.

“It makes me look old, you know?” he continued with a lean into her own face. “Like, I'm nineteen looking on at my twenties soon. I shouldn't be going gray yet.”

“But I like it, though,” she insisted. “Like I said, it's interesting.”

He shrugged at that. “I've had people ask me if it's a birthmark, but who knows, really.”

Sam thought about the conversation that she had had with Aurora and Marla about that little pearl of gray, about the boy with the pearl in his hair. She couldn't exactly recall everything about it as he held the train station door for her.

“Thank you, dear gentleman,” she told him as she took off her sunglasses before she headed inside.

“Herr Skolnick and Fraulein Shelley,” he corrected her as he shut the glass door behind them. “That's the only German I know so far. That's according to this guy Louie talked to while we were in there.”

“Pronounced 'froy line', you said?” she asked.

“Yeah, he broke it down for the two of us, too. It literally means 'young lady.' Kind of ironic because I'm actually younger of the two of us.”

Sam giggled at that and he led her over to the ticket booth, which stood wide open just for them.

“Two single adults to Frankfurt, please—round trip,” he kindly told the man, and he took his wallet out from his front pocket.

“A combination for you and your girlfriend, too?” he asked Alex in a light German accent, and he was taken aback by that.

“Oh, she's not my—” He gestured to Sam.

“Couples get half off on the midday rides,” he continued, and Alex and Sam looked on at each other with knowing glances.

“Uh—yeah, we'll take it,” Alex told the man; and he snickered at the whole notion. “Good idea, right, babe?”

“Yeah, baby!” Sam went along with it. Alex took out a couple of euros from hiding and the man inside handed him a pair of tickets.

“For the Amerikanischer and his kleine Dame.”

“How do we say 'thank you'?” he asked the man.

“Danke schoen. 'Please' is bitte.”

“Oh, right, right, right! Uh, yeah, danke schoen.” He gazed on at Sam with a bemused look on his face, but she couldn't help but giggle at him as he handed one of the two to her. All the way towards the platform, she resisted laughing more at him. They stood there in anticipation of the train and the gray sky overhead darkened a bit with more rain clouds. Alex cupped a hand to his mouth to stifle his laughter. Sam felt her face grow warm from the feeling.

“Man,” he muttered and he shook his head.

“For real. I was not expecting that.”

He snickered some more.

“Couldn't beat that with a stick, though,” he said in a low voice.

“No way.” Sam thought of Bill right then and his incessant penny pinching. At least there she was headed into an art museum in central Germany and not a little market the size of someone's house down the street from her. There was a good reason with Alex: if she put any thought into Bill's behavior, it would ruin her day out with Alex himself.

“I got us the parlor car, by the way,” he told her; far off to his left, the silver train turned the corner on the railroad.

“Oh, you big stud!” she joked as she knew the man in the booth was still in earshot from there. He chuckled at that. The train rolled up before them and they soon boarded it one after the other. They were greeted by the warmth and comfort of the parlor car: nothing like the parlor cars back in the States for sure.

They took the spots closest to the window, but before she took her seat there, Sam spotted a small bar tucked in the far corner of the car behind them.

“Care for some authentic German beer?” she offered him with a gesture towards the bar.

“Bitte, meine Dame,” he joked, and she giggled at him and then she stopped. “Wait, that was good. You are a continental!”

The train rolled forward and she made her way over to the heavy white stone bar tucked in the corner. The female tender with the short bob of maroon tinted black hair showed her a smile in response.

“Two glasses of—ooh, Belgian beer, please,” she said.

“Two glasses, you said?” the woman echoed in a thick French accent.

“Uh, yeah—for me and my boyfriend over there,” she told her, and she had a difficult time in stifling a giggle at that. The bartender poured her and Alex a pair of glasses of that rich dark Belgian beer; when she handed the first glass to Sam, she looked behind her to the seat next to the window and gasped.

“Oh, my god, 'e is a beautiful boy,” said the woman in a hushed voice.

“Yeah, I guess he is,” Sam told her with a shrug.

“No—cherie, listen to me. 'E is a beautiful young man. I 'ave never seen a boy so beautiful as 'im.” She turned her head back in Alex's direction: the way the gray light of the day glowed back onto his milky skin so it resembled to porcelain and onto the plume of gray upon his head, and his jet black hair appeared blacker than normal. She handed Sam the next glass of beer. “You Americans—you must take care of one another and love one another. Take good care of 'im.”

Even though Alex wasn't her boyfriend, she couldn't help but wonder how much longer they could carry the whole charade out there in Europe.

“How much are these?” she asked with a gesture to the glasses.

“Five euros, s'il vous plait.”

Sam handed her five bills and then she picked up the glasses. “Is it—merci?” she asked her.

“Oui! Merci beaucoup.”

“Uh, merci beaucoup! He's learning German and I'm learning French so it—just makes sense.”

“Right? Enjoy your ride, ma cherie.”

Sam felt her face grow warm once more as she headed back to the seat across from Alex.

“Looking—as—red as a—cherry—tomato,” he stammered given neither of them were sure the woman was within hearing range of them. Sam giggled at him and he shrugged his shoulders; she handed him the glass before she took a seat across from him.

“I should tell you that this place that we're playing at this weekend, Schweinfurt—it's a few miles from the Iron Curtain. Like the border to East Germany is literally right down the street from there. I looked at it on this atlas that my parents have before we left—it's nuts.”

“Oh, wow, really?”

“Yeah—and I saw the train route while I was getting tickets in there. It's right after Nuremberg, too. We get to Nuremberg and then we hang a left and we're in Schweinfurt. Apparently, we have a stopover there!”

“Cool! So we get to see a little peek at it?”

“Exactly. Stopover there and then it's onto Frankfurt. Beyond that is Cologne and Essen, and then Amsterdam. But that's a full day's trip, though—Munich to Amsterdam.”

“Like, something to set aside for a whole trip altogether.”

“Right! We went to Amsterdam last summer for that festival that we played—you know, Eindhoven. Beautiful there. You think Germany's beautiful. I wanted to visit the van Gogh museum but we were kinda strapped for time, though.”

“Some day,” she remarked.

“Definitely, some day.” He raised his glas to her and they made a toast to each other. They took a sip of the Belgian beer in unison: nothing like any drink Sam had had back in the States, or even the cocktails that she had with Marla back in England. This was strong and full but nothing to get the both of them drunk, however.

“Oh, my god,” she blurted out as she brought a hand to her chest.

“Yeah, that's unreal.” He gaped at the sensation and rolled his eyes a bit, and she giggled at him, and he showed her a smile in return.

Within the hour, they stopped over in Schweinfurt and Alex pointed out the window. Beyond the train station was a street: off in the distance, Sam could see the pavement recede back into the heart of the city. A part of her expected to see a full on brigade off in the distance but she knew that the Soviet Union still loomed over them, and even more so from the station there at the edge of West Germany. Indeed, she spotted two men on the sidewalk wrapped in red and black overcoats and with batons latched to their belts.

“Soviets,” Alex pointed out. “See the hammer and sickle on their chests?”

Sam took a closer look: embroidered on their chests were little medallions. Even from the train window, she could make out the shape of the hammer and sickle inside there. It almost didn't even look real, even from a distance.

“Oh, wow,” she breathed out.

“I remember when we came over here last summer to play at Eindhoven festival and Louie, Greg, and I came here to Germany first before Chuck and Eric did, and I saw one of them when we got close to the border. Probably the most surreal moment of my life. It's like 'oh my god, it's real.' You know what I mean?”

“Oh, yeah!”

Those men merely stood there on the sidewalk as if they awaited something. But within time, the train rolled out of the station and westward to Frankfurt. But at that point, it was almost three in the afternoon, which meant they only had a couple of hours to relish in an art museum.

But there was absolutely nothing in the world that Sam could get past and that was the big beaming smile on Alex's face the whole rest of the afternoon.

The cold expression that she had grown almost all too familiar with had completely vanished and gave way to one of true joy. In those few hours as they walked along the cobblestones and visited a bakery for a bite of late lunch of open faced sandwiches and Black Forest cake, and then they continued on in search of the arts to nourish themselves further, every time Sam looked over at him, he looked up at all the buildings around them with a sweet smile plastered on his face. The happiest he had been up to that point, and he wasn't even with Testament right at that moment.

They were alone together in Germany and he enjoyed every moment of it.

At one point as they walked to a bookstore on a corner, she considered putting her arm around his shoulder. She had to stop herself, however: he wasn't her boyfriend.

But he certainly felt like it as she bought him a big glazed sugar cookie from another bakery.

“I'm gonna gain so much weight hanging out with you, Samantha,” he joked as he took a slow sensual bite; he rolled his eyes into the back of his head as if he experienced an orgasm.

“Get some meat on those bones,” she retorted, and the bakers laughed at that.

By the time the sun hung low over the horizon, and the gray sky began to change colors to a rich royal blue, they began back to the train station. Alex lovingly patted his stomach by the time they stepped on the platform. She had never seen him more contented as they gave the conductor their tickets before they stepped aboard. He snuggled down in the seat by the window on the right side: that time, they didn't have a table between them.

“Back to Schweinfurt!” he declared with a big beaming smile on his face.

It was the happiest she had ever seen Alex; she nestled close to him as if he was in fact her boyfriend at that point. His body was warm from the food, his face was rosy from the Belgian beer, and his hair was soft from the moisture in the gray skies overhead. Even if it was only for a few hours, she knew she had done him good that day. She had done what the bartender in the previous train wanted her to do for him.

As the train started moving, he leaned back in the seat and closed his eyes. That time there was no arm rest between them, but a bit of a divet separated their seats, so she couldn't lean all the way over to him to cuddle with him. But he was warm and full: she had to relish in the soft feeling from his body.

He gave his dark hair a little toss and he looked at her with that sweet smile still upon his face.

“Still wanna dye your hair again?” she asked him as she eyed the gray tuft over his brow. He shrugged his shoulders.

“Don't really know, to be honest,” he confessed, “after today, I just might keep it.”

“As black as the very night itself,” she whispered to him.

“As black as night—but the gray as bright as day.” He winked at her when he said that and she beamed at him.

Soon, they made their stopover in Schweinfurt and that time around, they had enough time to step off the train. Sam went on to the ladies' room while Alex made his way over to the ticket booth for a question.

She surfaced out of there when she spotted those black curls right in front of her, but without his guitar on his back.

“Hey, Joey,” she greeted him in a soft voice, and he turned his head and flashed her a grin.

“What you doin' here?” he asked her.

“Oh, just—checking the place out,” she replied; she didn't dare tell him that she was there with Alex lest he fly off the handle at the mention of his name.

“You know, we're only a little ways away from the border of East Germany,” he told her.

“Oh, yeah, yeah, I know.”

“We get any closer—goin' down this street here—we get stopped by the cops over there.” He glanced up to the clock on the far wall. “We better hustle on back to the train.”

“I should ask you what you're doing here, then,” she retorted back to him, and she couldn't resist the grin on her face.

“I'm doin' what you're doin' and checkin' the whole place out. I got nothin' better to do, to be perfectly honest wit' ya.”

“Well...” She thought about Alex in the back of the train station, and his talking to the man in the ticket booth over there.

“Well, what? You wanna mosey on back to Munich and go grab a li'l bite to eat?”

The warm, soft feeling that Alex had bestowed onto her was still powerful and she desired for more of it. “That's real kind of you, Joey, but—”

“Oh, c'mon! You're my girlfriend after all. I can't hang out with my girlfriend in Germany?”

“You have to ask first,” she pointed out with a wag of her finger. The ringing of a bell caught their attention.

“We have to get going,” he told her and he raised his dark eyebrows at her. He began towards the train outside but Alex was still somewhere back there. They were about to leave soon; she chased after Joey towards the platform.

“By the way, I should have to ask you—how'd you get so tan?”

“I got a bit sunburnt a few months ago,” he told her with a shrug of his shoulders. “It all just peeled right off and underneath was all as brown as a coffee bean.”

The soles of his shoes padded on the concrete before them and she hurried after him. She peered over her shoulder: Alex was nowhere to be seen behind them.

Joey reached out for her hand and he led her onto the parlor car of the train, the exact same car as when she and Alex rode up to Amsterdam together. He took one step onto the floor of the doorway and she followed suit. She hung there in anticipation of him. He was somewhere in there.

She would stand there and wait for him if she had to. Even if it meant blocking passengers from boarding themselves. Even if it meant throwing all of the trains completely off schedule from each other.

“Sam?” Joey called back to her.

“Coming!” she replied, and she peered out to the incoming darkness. He ducked out from the station. She recognized that little tuft of gray from afar. He craned his neck in search of her. Even though he wasn't her boyfriend, he certainly felt as such right there as he looked for her.

She waved at him so as to grab his attention. She dared not call his name given Joey was right behind her.

“Sam!” Joey called again.

“Alex!” she blurted out. “Alex!” He turned his head right as the last few passengers boarded the car in front of her. He bolted right there and ran towards her. The train was about to leave right there.

“Hey!” Alex called after her.

“Sam, c'mon!” Joey insisted and he grabbed her by the hand and he took her aboard the train. The doors closed before Alex could come on board himself. He pounded on the doors but it was useless and too late at that point. The train rolled forward right then and there.

“HEY WHAT THE FUCK!” he shouted on the other side of the glass; his big voice echoed over the train. Joey dragged her to the seats on the other side of the train, unbeknownst to it all. Sam stood there before him, unsure as to what to do next. She knew that Joey was turning a blind eye to him.

“HEY!” Alex called out and he waved his arms about. She gasped at the sight of him there on the platform with his arms straight up in the air. She turned to Joey, oblivious to what had happened.

“Oh, no,” she muttered under her breath. She knew that the next train would be there soon enough, but she still left Alex behind, and about a mile away from the border no less. At least they were still in West Germany and they hadn't crossed over the Iron Curtain at any given moment. But if what he had told her about it remained true, he was still potentially within harm's way.

“FUCK!” was the last thing she heard before the train went around the corner and away from him. Her false boyfriend left behind about a mile from the edge of the Iron Curtain, and she went with her real boyfriend at that point.

“Care for a cuppa Joey?” Joey himself offered to her with that lopsided grin on his face.

“Um—sure.” She couldn't help from feeling out the sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach, and especially the heavy feeling inside of her chest. She left Alex behind, but then again, it wasn't exactly her fault. The train was about to leave.

Their small white china cups of coffee soon arrived and Joey was eager for the first taste. She couldn't enjoy it however. She kept on thinking about Alex, all by himself at a strange train station. She also missed the nickname Joey had given the cups of coffee as well: she couldn't exactly enjoy that for herself, either.

It would be another hour and a half before they returned to the station in Munich, and all the while, she thought of him. She wanted to cry but she couldn't, not with Joey right there in front of her.

By the time they reached the station in Munich, it was almost nine thirty and she couldn't bear to look at everyone because she knew someone would ask her what happened. Lucky for her, Joey led her to a small stretch of grass right across the street from their hotel, one that overlooked a small dark lake; before them was a narrow cobblestone walkway and a few metal tables accompanied with spindly chairs. He gestured for her to have a seat on the chair closest to her.

“I'll be right back,” he told her, and she nodded at him. She sat there, all alone, in a foreign city, and she had no idea as to what to say to Alex when he showed up again, that is if he did. Surely he knew that she waited for him at the door. Surely he would understand.

Joey soon returned to her from across the street with two cups of water in hand, and he handed her the one in his left.

“So—you guys are—touring?” she started with a clearing of her throat; she took a sip and the cold feeling upon her tongue was all she needed to feel right then.

“Yeah.” Joey turned his attention to her, complete with a thoughtful look on his face. “By the way, you've been awful quiet lately. I don't ever recall you being so quiet.”

“Oh, it's—it's nothing,” she sputtered out. “I'm just—in awe of—everything.”

Something moved about down on the grass. She spotted that little tuft of gray hair over his brow. He flashed Joey a dirty look and he looked at her with a cold glare. Even from a distance, she could feel his anger. She took a sip of her water as he walked on over to the dry patch of grass down by the waters.

Joey gave his black curls a little toss back from his neck and he showed her that lopsided grin. He then rested the side of his head within the palm of his hand.

“God, you know—it really is just so beautiful here,” he remarked with a glance up to the black sky overhead.

“Yeah—it really is,” she said with a look right into his eyes. “Like—upstate, but more.”

“Right?” She looked into his eyes so she wouldn't have to see what Alex was doing. But she could still see him out of the corner of her eye. Joey peered over his shoulder to the cobblestone walkway behind him with his dark lips still upturned in a joyous smile.

Alex had taken his spot there on the grass not too far from them, and he leaned back onto his elbows and stretched out his legs. Sam wondered where exactly she had gone wrong there with him. She would have to go back to the room with him, after she left him there within range of East Germany to his own whims. She left him there all by himself and he had hardly any money of him to top it all off.

When Joey wasn't looking, she had to talk to him.

Joey himself downed the whole cup of water in four large gulps.

“Let me get you some dinner,” he offered her as he set the cup down on the table.

“Oh, no, Joey it's—it's okay. I'm not hungry.”

“What?” he asked her with a bit of a mocking tone to his voice.

“I really am not hungry.”

“Oh, come on,” he encouraged her. “Some brats and sauerkraut to fill your cute li'l belly—I wanna treat my girlfriend well!”

She swallowed as he stood to his feet and rounded the side of the table. She watched him go across the street to the cafe next door to the hotel: she watched him go inside.

And then she turned her head to the right. Alex had turned around so he could watch her from a distance.

She walked up to him and he glared at her.

“Hey—about earlier,” she started, and he shook his head and he brought a hand to his brow as if he had a headache. She swallowed. She knew she had messed up by leaving him there, and she had to face the music with him, but she couldn't resist the sinking feeling in her chest.

“Alex, listen, he's my boyfriend,” she insisted, and she could feel her stomach twisting itself into a tight knot. Alex stood upright then and he towered over her.

“I know,” he said, terse. “But what I can't understand is what you continually see in him, though. And you ditched me, too!”

She paused right there and her mouth fell dry as a bone, more dry than any alcoholic drink ever left it feeling in the past. He shook his head about at her and nothing could deny the look of disgust on his face, either.

“You,” he stammered and he grew angrier and angrier right there, right before her, “you—you—fucking ditched me right by the boundary to East Germany. You ditched me when you knew damn well that there are Soviet soldiers over that way. How—” His bottom lip trembled and his face turned bright pink. The look of anger on his face twisted into one of heartbreak. They weren't in a relationship but she could tell that she had broken his heart.

“How—How—How could you?” he sputtered and he buried his face in his hands. Sam lunged for him but he pushed her hands away from him.

“No!” he yelped with furious tears in his eyes. “No! No, god dammit!”

“Alex, listen to me—”

“How could you become the very thing you are up against!” His voice broke to where she could barely hear him.

“What?” Sam demanded, stunned.

“You behaved just like that sad sack of nothing you call a friend, Aurora. She made my birthday all about her—you made our day out all about you. How could you!”

“Don't insult Aurora like that!” she spat, but Alex bowed his head again and he ran away from her and back to the lobby. She fumed at him even though he couldn't see her. How could he compare her to Aurora! But at the same time, as she stood there on the grass with her hands down by her waist, she couldn't help but wonder exactly what he meant by that.

She had gone off with Joey and left Alex at the train station, right within range of those Soviet soldiers.

She did.

But he had no right to say that about Aurora, even after everything she had done in the past year.

But his tears told her a different story. He wept at the very notion itself. Joey had already gone back to his room as well. She fetched up a sigh.

She had dinner with Joey but she wasn't in any mood to be with him after the fact. The day was about Alex, and she had been caught up in her own unfinished business all the while.

“I might just go to bed early, babe,” she told him as Joey walked her back to the room. “I have a headache. You know, with all the traveling and whatnot.”

“Oh, of course,” he replied, still with a thoughtful look on his face. “Besides, we're supposed to be back in our rooms at eleven, and here it is ten thirty.” Before she reached into her pocket for the room key, Joey leaned forward and planted a soft kiss on her lips. A feeling that she had missed.

It felt so long ago, and yet it was all within her hands right there.

“I love you,” he whispered into her mouth.

“I love you more,” she retorted, and he chuckled at that.

“You have a good night,” he whispered again, and he gave her another kiss before she unlocked the door and headed inside. She set down her purse on the table: Chuck and Tiffany had gone out again, and Greg was nowhere to be seen, but Alex had already crawled into bed. The bed sheet hugged his slender body so she kept her eye on the smooth curvature while she changed her clothes right there next to the bed.

She rounded the foot of the bed so she could look into his slumbering face. But he rolled over before she could so much as peel back the covers; he breathed hard and heavy as she crawled underneath the bed sheet next to him.

“Alex—” she whispered.

But he never acknowledged back to her. Joey was in fact her boyfriend, but at the same time, she had left him there at the train station. He sniffled and she knew that he was crying again.

“Alex, listen,” she started right into his ear. “I'm terribly sorry about earlier. I know you're hurt and I hope you can forgive me. But as I've said, Joey is my boyfriend. I couldn't help it. I hope you can forgive not just me but the both of us. You also had no right to insult Aurora like that. Yeah, she's been a complete egotistical bitch since she got married, but I still consider her a friend.”

But he was silent still. She sighed through her nose and she lay back down in the bed with her arms folded across her chest as she awaited for Greg to rejoin them. The whole incident left her divided. Too divided to think things over and too tired to even consider the very suggestion itself.

But she managed to fall asleep before she got to see him walk through that door, and she awoke by the time he had climbed into bed next to her.

Alex was sound asleep himself. They had trapped her in bed, but she could slide down the bed to the foot. Careful not to wake either of them, she sank underneath the covers and she inched to the foot of the bed. She slithered out from under the covers and onto the floor.

There was one guy she could talk to about all of this as she swiped the key card to the room before she crept out to the hallway. She squinted her eyes against the low lights upon the ceiling. Held low against the black night outside there.

She adjusted the straps of her camisole before she closed the door behind her. All alone in the hallway there, she continued on towards the very end. Every time she blinked her eyes, there was that image of Alex crying. She couldn't shake the image from her mind. She had been a friend to him this whole entire time. She thought about what she had said about Aurora earlier as well. Still a friend, but she hadn't been one to her in almost a year at that point. He had more of an upper hand over that.

One other guy she knew she could visit, even when the going got tough overseas, right down the hall from them.

[cxmetery-gates]

OBSESSIVE TEACHINGS - DARK!TOM HIDDLESTON

CHAPTER ONE: FAKING IT

SUMMARY: Lynn Moore dreads the beginning of her greatest fear: the first day of senior year. WORD COUNT: 2.3k NOTE: Get ready for typical teenager angst. Let’s all bully Lynn. WARNINGS: dark!tom hiddleston, teacher!tom hiddleston

OBSESSIVE TEACHINGS MASTERLIST

JUST LIKE EVERY YEAR AROUND the middle of August, my mom tells me the same advice; have a good first day. Of course, most mothers, fathers, or whoever tell their child this, but it's as pointless as a circle. Whoever has a fantastic first day of school? There are new teachers to impress, you're stuck with the same bunch of losers you sit with at lunch, and there are more jerks and morons to pick on you, despite the status quo you fall under. High school is frankly really awful all the way around and there's no way someone can deny or even try to argue that. These are the four years of utter hell and we're all dying to get out. I've stepped through those heavy doors, resembling the gates of hell, on a first day three times now. My anger and hatred have only been fueled rather than dying down. I'm sure nothing will ever change.

"Don't forget--" Mom tries to tell me from the porch in sweats and a maroon t-shirt. Her unnatural dirty blonde hair piled on the top of her head with an old red clip. There are tears welling in her eyes, seeing her only child almost grown up. I have one last year of school and mere months until I'm an adult. For me, it may pass by far too slow, but I bet it's a whole different story for her. In all honesty, it's ridiculous that the woman is so upset and not to mention annoying. I have done this routine twelve times now, for Christ sake, she should get a grip on herself by now. I don't mean to belittle my mother but one of her greatest achievements is being able to replicate every single stereotype women have, including having no control over her emotions. An outsider looking in may say I'm a bit to harsh. All I can say to that is no one has loved with her for almost eighteen years like I have.

"I got it!" I yell against the wind as it smacks my face while I walk across the grass. "Christ on a bike," I curse tossing my messy light brown hair from my field of vision.

The bus would take another five minutes to get the corner, but I'd like to not look stupid on my first day by running to catch up with the metal rectangle of devilry Peter Parker style. Well, maybe it would turn into an interesting story at the least. Spiderman is my favorite superhero of all time after all. Despite this, I only allow an angry face to part my path. It's totally fake but faking it is the only way to survive.

Down at the intersection, there are already kids waiting. I think it's safe to assume that all of the puberty-sicken teenagers are freshmen or sophomores since most junior and seniors are still asleep at this early hour, knowing the good majority are able to drive. I take a good look at all of them. The fact that they find throwing bits of gravel at squirrels or birds makes me want to go over and smack them upside the head. That thought crosses my mind a lot. The world is so full of morons; it's hard to pick out which ones are actually tolerable. They're almost as bad as kids in letterman jackets with expensive sports cars. Those fuckers are the worst. All they care about is their ego and how much money they can wave around coming right from mommy and daddy's wallet.

Take the kid in the striped shirt tucked into his hand-me-down jeans. He looks like a nice kid; after all, he's got nothing to brag about. His parents are probably office workers or maybe nothing too difficult. Nothing too important. That's all we are, right? I mean, once we're dead and gone. No one is gonna care what car you drove or what brand your plain white shirt is. People who think they're hotshots or something special are the real morons.

Besides, who thinks it's cool to spend thirty bucks on a t-shirt?

An old car passes, a teenage girl in my grade sits in the driver's seat. I sort of duck out of the way. Not James Bond-like, but I move my already shitty hair in front of my face as if it's going to help hide my identity. The chick probably didn't even see me. I watch the car drive on, kinda imagining what sort of car I would drive once I get one. I suppose I would have to learn first. I personally am not a fan of getting behind the wheel. Hell, I can't even ride a bike without falling over. I'd rather move to a large city and order cabs to get me places. They seem more convenient and, if you get in a wreck, it's not your fault and it's not your money coming out of pocket. No car equals more money. Then again, no car also is equivalent to no freedom and taxis and Uber's can get expensive. It seems like each idea is flawed these days.

Upon scanning the area again— this time ignoring the idiots— I notice only one person who seems excited out of the group. Her dark brown hair and dark skin contrast to the majority of our town, including those waiting nearby. Her curled hair bounces with each stride she takes, happier than the step prior.

Some say it's strange that the girl and I are such good friends. You don't see God and Satan going out and having coffee every weekend or anything.

"What's got you in a good mood?" I question as I readjust my dark blue shirt underneath the flannel. Flannels are my favorite personal quirk. I own at least fifty, most being cool or dark colors. I don't have an obsession; just an interest that I care way too much about. Flannels are to Lynn Moore as controversy is to famous influencers. Looking back up, my eyebrow is still raised. I'm shocked to see her here, assuming her parents would have given her a lift. After a second, it dawned on me that this, riding the bus to school, was her punishment for getting into an accident she won't take responsibility for.

Posting memes and vines references are fun and all, but doing it while going 60 down a highway isn't the smartest. Forgive me for not following the strict millennial handbook but I don't actually want to die nor do I want my friends to.

My best friend, Ellie Graves, gives a small glare. "Why does it always seem like you're on your period?" I shrug my shoulders, and played with the wire choker I always wore. As my fingers slip underneath the necklace, it is evident how to lose it has gotten since I bought it a few months ago. I make a mental note to take a quick trip to the shopping side of the internet sometime soon.

I click my tongue before answering. "Probably because I'm closer to hell than you are," I say, referring to my obvious lack of height. I'm only five feet and just barely three inches off the ground while Ellie is at least five feet and seven inches. Personally I think we would make a cute couple given our attitudes and the extremities of our heights, except for the fact that dearest Ellie is not interested in people other than men. What a party pooper. For me, anyway. "But lets do our best to not reinforce stereotypes," I say referring to her comment.

She nods her head. "Yes, mother." I snort at her sass, leaning my body weight onto my right leg. "But hey! We have one year left! That's something to be excited about, am I right?"

Yes, I would say she is right. Freshmen, sophomore, and the dragged out junior year have come and passed, full of useless information and embarrassing memories with it. It's mostly embarrassing if I have to be honest. School isn't my thing, however falling up and down the main set of stairs apparently is. Who knew?

"Yeah, I suppose so. At least we're considered adults now," I reply trying to find some positive about the situation.

Ellie begins to lightly laugh, "True. That's kinda a scary thought, though." Her body shudders, either because a breeze just blew passed or out of what she just said.

The age of freedom is so close, I can nearly touch it. Despite my longing to finally buy a lottery ticket and spray paint, the fear of adulthood gnaws at the back of my mind. With eighteen comes responsibility, something I lack to a high degree. I muse the idea of getting a degree of irresponsibility. However, I don't think such diploma could help me get into a creative writing career.

I make a thinking face and bring my shoulders to my ears preparing for an exaggerated response. "Well, you aren't wrong," I reply in a forced high pitch noise, catching the attention of the guys. Now I notice they are all matching in basketball shorts and a jacket. Men's fashion, ladies and gents. Ellie chuckles at my utter dorkiness while I continue to make some weird face I'm sure she will get a picture of sometime within the next few seconds.

It's crazy how time is able to fly. Just last week, so it seems, the outgoing, beaming chick I have as a best friend and I were in third grade, the year I moved to a new house, a different school, and a very different town. Although my eight-year-old-self hated it at the time, I'm glad I left the northern state of Maine, all the way across to the midwest. That is if you consider southern Missouri part of the midwest. If I hadn't, who would have the privilege of being my first smack in the face? Or first sleepover (with an actual girl)? Who knows, and I honestly wouldn't like to. Ellie's my best friend; I would be dead if she didn't have my back. And I'm honestly positive she would say the same about her tiny best pal.

Little time passes after the picture was indeed taken and posted on Elle's Snapchat before an ugly shade of yellowish-orange appears entering the neighborhood. Ellie is practically fidgeting, fighting the urge to run up the bus even if it is some distance away. My eyes roll trying to not say anything to kill her spirit but I do let out an accidental groan as its loud hum draws nearer. The bus came to a screeching halt and I already want to turn on my heel and head home. When I step on, I notice there is a new driver this year. After Ellie got her license and could legally drive me around, I never bothered with the bus unless I needed space or she was busy, which was hardly ever. Ellie and I mostly spend our time together with our group of friends. Despite this, I still easily took notice of a different person in the seat. Instead of a balding old man with a face like alligator skin, a woman sat in the brown leather seat and looks roughly in her forties. She, like all of us except for Ellie, looks tired but fakes a smile anyways. The same rules apply; middle school and junior high in the front and high school in the back. It seems as if sitting in the back always made you cool of some sort. Every time a kid got away with it in middle school, he or she was automatically the bad kid, the cool kid, or the king of the bus. God, how stupid is that theory? These thoughts remind me how annoying and stupid we all were at ten and eleven years old. I'm sure if I had a duplicate of myself at that age, I'd shoot either one of us to cease me from the utter pain.

Instead of going all the way to the back, I turn to sit in the seat half way down the aisle while plunging in an earbud, leaving one open to listen to Ellie. I instantly scroll through an select a playlist that mixes rock, punk, and even some emo. Given today being my last first day, I figured early morning jams would be appropriate to get me pumped up even though I tend to listen to this genre quite often as of lately. I enjoy the heavy guitar and double bass pedal and lyrics I can either relate to or wonder who hurt the singer so bad. Needless to say, I'm definitely more of a rock person however there's still a lot of other types of music on my device, including orchestra and folk or indie. I don't like to limit what I listen to; whatever makes me feel good ends up on my phone. Simple as that.

"So, Lynn," Ellie says sliding in right next to me. I look in her direction, which was to my right, waiting for her to respond. She looks at me, but nothing came out of her mouth. Slowly, I arch a brow. Still, there was nothing. "I had nothing to say, I just wanted your attention." Ellie gave a stupid grin while I glare kindly at her if there is such a thing.

My head shakes and I reach out to pat her cheek, "You, my darling, are an absolute dumbass."

I feel her grin grow against my hand since I haven't moved it yet. "Not as big as you, though." I can't argue; she has a point.

As the bus lunches forwards, I look out the window and watch the world go by. Something settles in my gut about then, the feeling both familiar and foreign. I can't tell what it is, but as I watch the clouds roll in over the sun and birds flying through the sky, I only hope my last year of high school will be memorable.

[pogaytosalad]

Heres a wip of a sequel.

Dmviolence, by jade

Hello, if youre hearing this, it probably means im dead. Either that, or im alive and just got tired of keeping this hidden. You might remember my voice from a previous recording about a takeover in sector ⬽:➻, in which id helped prevent total annihilation of the sector. At the time i was unnamed, however now you may call me Kalton. After the takeover i resigned and moved to a job at a dmv. This planet was, for some reason, in one of the most tactically advantageous locations in the galaxy. And for some reason the higher ups dedicated the whole damn planet to dmvs. Dont ask why. Now, onto the story.

I woke up, and i put on my emerald green contact lenses. Just like any other day. I put on a basic white t-shirt and a leather bomber jacket along with a pair of jean shorts. If you cant tell by now, im gay.

I live in a small apartment. By small apartment i mean a bedroom, a bathroom and a kitchen all crammed into 2 rooms. I hopped out the bedroom window onto my motorcycle. It was a diamond white motorcycle with deep red stripes along the sides and the handlebars. My pride and joy. I put on my jet black helmet and took off towards my job at the, you guessed it, dmv.

Chapter 2

I pulled up in the parking lot and took off my helmet, my blue hair a total rats nest. The doors were push doors, yet i somehow ALWAYS pulled first. I entered the dmv and went to my station. A few hours passed by and no one had come in yet, which was unusual. So naturally i decided to sit down on the floor, put in my earbuds, and enjoyed some heavy metal. A few more hours passed by, and usually by now i wouldve been yelled at by my boss. This struck me as odd so i stood up. I really wish i hadnt stood up. The place had been completely destroyed. There were drop pods crashed in through the roof and they all had the ERGON logo on them. Ergon was a multi trillion dollar pencil manufacturing company with its own military. They had previously tried to take over sector ⬽:➻ when i had been working there. I was not looking forwards to what was about to happen.

Quickly, i ducked back onto the floor before anyone saw me. There were 4 riot soldiers holding this building. This was gonna be fun. The riot soldiers are your stereotypical riot gear and police baton soldiers. But these guys had laser batons and the riot gear gave them heightened strength and speed. They also had some, dare I say, shitty energy pistols. I crawled over to one of the soldiers who wasnt being watched and broke their neck. Carefully I took the baton and the pistol. Slowly crawled my way back to my station and checked the shot count in the pistol. I had 6 shots, just enough to take care of the remaining three soldiers. I stood up quickly and shot each soldier twice in the head. First shot to open the riot helmet, second shot to kill. I vaulted over the counter and grabbed the three pistols. These things were so stupid. You couldnt even remove the clips. Once you ran out of shots, the pistol was useless. Nonetheless, i didnt have any choice. I had a laser baton and 18 total shots in 3 pistols.

Upon leaving the building, my motorcycle was one of the few things to survive. It had alot of scratches and damage, but it still worked. The helmet was shattered however. I mounted the motorcycle and took off towards the next closest dmv. Maybe id find some better gear there.

Chapter 3

Pulling up next to the second dmv i immediately noticed 3 things. 1: there was blood everywhere. 2: there were 25 soldiers here. And 3: they all had energy weapons. The reason these things are relevant is because energy weapons dont cause bloodshed. This was the result of something else. Something new i hadnt dealt with yet.

I drove up and ran over 5 of the soldiers. This was probably an incredibly bad idea, seeing as i had 18 shots, enough for 9 kills, and there were 20 soldiers left. Every single soldier turned to me and i, being the absolute genius that i am, welded the front of one of the pistols shut with the laser baton, shot it off, and threw it into thei crowd of soldiers. It exploded, releasing a shockwave of energy and disabling the soldiers. I then used the baton to cut through the riot gear and kill the soldiers. I felt like a badass. That is until a mechanical looking wolf jumped at me and started trying to rip my face off.

The wolf was a frostwolf, except it had been placed into a mechanical frame and its teeth and claws had been replaced with lasers. I tried to bash it off of me with the baton but it just bit it in two. This gave me just enough time to grab an energy pistol and shoot the wolf. It kept trying to kill me amd i wasted a whole clip on it until suddenly, the dog started to levitate in the air and got thrown aside into a wall. I got up and was instantly frozen in place. Thats when.. she walked up.

Chapter 4

The she i am reffering to is ebony. A goth/punk wannabe with light blue tear shaped eyes and black hair with purple streaks. Shes a bitch whos mind got too powerful and now she can move things without touching them. Shes been chasing me for months. Not in a murderous way. Shes just obsessed with me. Ive tried to tell her im gay but she wont listen. And now im at her mercy.

She walked up to me and kissed me on the cheek. I hated it. She looked as if she was contemplating whether or not to free me when a pod came down from the sky and crushed her. Thank god. But i honestly wouldve rathered suffered at her hand than deal with what i had to deal with next...

Out of the pod came the warden. The goddamn warden from sector ⬽:➻. Last id seen him hed been in the same situation as ebony. Crushed to death under a pod. But this time, instead of being on my side, he was here to kill me. He was huge. Like seriously huge. He was at least 8 feet tall and shaped like gaston. Whos gaston? Nobody knows these days. But its basically a way to say "extremely buff and wide". Back to the story. The warden wasnt looking very good, considering the rotten skin, obviously quickly patched together face, and muscles hanging loose out of his skin. His rotting ruined body was held together by an exoskeleton of chromium-tungsten alloy. Nothing i had was gonna cut through that. I was gonna have to get creative here..

The warden had 2 weapons, both of them were his fists. Huge gauntlets that were each about the size of a cow. Definitely bigger than his previous set. They were a golden green metal i couldnt identify. But i didnt want to get hit with one to try and find out. I ran. I ran as fast i could run into the dmv and hid. I could hear the wardens footsteps. It was as if a small earthquake happened each time he took a step.

I peeked over the desk i was hiding behind and saw him punch through the 2 desks opposite to me. It took no effort and i couldve sworn i saw him smile. Obviously i didnt. Cause he didnt have a mouth anymore. But if he did, he definitely wouldve smiled. I took a shot to get his attention and ran off towards the wall. The warden was definitely faster than i expected.

Luckily i managed to dodge the blow by a centimeter. The metal smelled of decaying flesh and popcorn. The wardens blow punched a huge hole in the wall. I hope you see where im going with this.

I ran off to another wall and we repeated this same process a number of times until the building was barely still up. I ran out the doors and threw the baton at the last of the supports, cutting through it and causing the building to collapse in on the warden. He wasnt getting out of that. I decided to search the rubble to see if i could find anything worth taking. I found a new baton, a flame rifle and a few more energy pistols.

The flame rifle was a very interesting design. The sides were painted jet black with flame decals scattered about. You could feel the heat on the inside and it made the gun warm to the touch. Comfortable to hold. Other than that though, it looked like an old fashioned 8.59mm sniper rifle. It had 4 shots remaining, so id have to use it sparingly.

I grabbed some scrap materials out of the rubble to make a holster for it and put it on my back.

The energy pistols just dangled from a keychain. The baton was simply turned off and placed through a hole in the back pockets of my shorts. I ran to my motorcycle and drove off, i needed to find out more. I had questions, and i had a sneaking suspicion that i knew where to find the answers.

I drove off again, i was dirty and there was blood on me and my bike. I probably looked like a serial killer. But i knew that if anyone was still alive, itd be jayden. They were.. well. They were a vampire. They lived in a swampland area and wore sparkly rainbow shirts and a huge sunhat. The sunhat allowed them to go outside in the sun, and they only drank coconut water. They also had a crazy amount of weaponry and used to work at ergon, before being fired for stealing weaponry. By the way, if you havent noticed by now, im using they/them to refer to jayden. Jayden doesnt have a gender. Jayden.. is kind of my crush. It probably has something to do with the fact that theyre the only person on this planet who talks to me. Other than ebony.. but ebony is... not my type i guess. Anyways, back to jayden. Jayden was on the roof of their swamp shack drinking coconut water out of a wine glass. I yelled up at them and they fell off the roof onto my back. I guess i cushioned their fall. Jayden immediately said "What do you need dear" without waiting for me to stand up, and shattered the wine glass. I informed them of the situation and asked the questions i had. Things like "what are the ergon soldiers defences like on their ships" and "how did they reanimate the warden" they had answers.

Jayden told me about the new security measures that had been put in place since id last been on an ergon ship. There was now a code for each teleportation pod and the gaurds had doubled. As for the warden, it turns out jayden was actually the first test run in reanimation sciences, and couldnt answer me because they had been unconcious in a lab when the warden was reanimated. That explained the vampire undead thing. Jayden invited me into the shack where they pulled a nail out of the floorboards and it turned into a ramp to the basement. Down in the basement? Thats where jayden kept their weapons they stole. And boy oh boy were there some interesting ones.

One that immediately caught my attention was the big rocket launcher. It had 3 barrels and each was a different colour, indicating a different effect. One was red, one was yellow, and one was green. The red barrel fired a normal explosive rocket, the yellow barrel fired an electromagnetic pulse rocket, and the green barrel fired an acidic explosive. And the launcher shrunk down to the size of an energy pistol when a button was pressed. It gathered up dirt and dust and garbage around it from the back to quickly convert into ammo but the only downside is that it would be difficult to use more than once in an area.

Jayden picked out an old shotgun. At first i didnt understand why, but then they loaded the clip. The clip was a huge drum that loaded in the bottom of the barrel. The drum was see through and inside you could see sawblades lined up side by side. When they pumped the shotgun a blade got lifted into a slot between the 2 shotgun barrels and started glowing red. When the trigger was pulled, the blade spun at high speeds and fired out of the slot, spinning along the ground like a wheel. It could cut through anything a baton could cut through and seemed to almost follow its target. The gun itself looked like an DP-12, except behind the pump, a large clear drum full of sawblades was in place. The blade sat between the barrels in place of the iron sights and got heated up by an electrical circut.

I also took a laser sword instead of my baton, it was just like the one that [3825968] had, except this one was about an inch longer. The final weapon i took was an acid thrower. It was basically just a watergun with acid in it. Ive always been partial to acidic weapons. If youve heard my other story, youd know why..

Jayden also took a submachine gun that fired freezing rounds. The rounds were essentially glorified waterballoons with liquid nitrogen in them. Though the rounds were bullet sized, enough shots from it would certainly freeze you in place. The freeze gun was about the size of the average human head, and was painted navy blue with blue saphire stripes placed along it. We both left the shack, me with my sword and jayden with a wine glass. We were ready to kick ass and put a stop to this.

We left and immediately both got flung into some trees. Guess who it was. It was ebony. Her body had been found and reanimated. I was starting to see a pattern. And now we had to fight the telekinetic who could kill us with a wave of her hand.

She was levitating. Her eyes were glowing red and her hair was floating in the air. She had a smile of someone about to rip your arms off and beat you with them. I tried to take a shot at her but my hand got knocked aside by an invisible force. So i tried the next best thing. Seduction. Fake seduction. Hopefully the whole dying and coming back from the dead thing didnt make her stop being weirdly obsessed with me.

While i faked surrender and complimented ebony and attempted to seduce her, jayden took aim of their ice gun and shot a burst at ebonys right arm. The arm froze in place and shattered. Hopefully that would lower the strength of her telekinetic abilities. It did. But only by about half. Which meant jayden got thrown into the air as i tried to discreetly unholster my acid gun. It wasnt discreet enough and the gun was knocked from my hand.

The gun flew forwards and the impact of hitting the ground set it off for a second, just enough to spray an acidic burn through her arm. Incapacitating her. Jayden ended up sneaking up behind her and impaling her through the skull with the shattered end of their wine glass. Finally ebony was dead for good.

The acid gun was busted, so we had to leave it behind. We got onto my motorcycle and took off towards my apartment building. We would need food if we were going to be traveling. An apartment complex would probably be full of foods, and alot of dead people who wouldnt care if we took some stuff.

[talesofsonicasura]

Diamonds and Voodoo

Brothers and Bandicoots

This was rewritten when I discovered that the document had been nothing but a word salad. This one should be much better!

Taki-Taki returns to Morioh in order to fulfill a particular agreement. Sadly, all she got was her dad walking off, two brothers with daddy issues, egotistical assholes and bandicoot urine on a landmark. Oh joy.

"Yes. I would like to confirm this very information to the Speedwagon Foundation. Apparently defeating Angelo merely revealed a new part of the going ons in Morioh. Something that could only be trouble for everyone living here and maybe even further." Spoke Jotaro Kujo, the man currently on the phone in his hotel room.

Pictures of a now deceased Angelo's mugshot with a report paper taped to the back, another picture of a disembodied hand on a table set with breakfast for one, and a small booklet that read Morioh City's Report. The man could only stare at them with pure concern.

/I wasn't born with this power! No, it was given to me by a man in a student's uniform. He appeared in my cell one night. I was so scared that my balls were in my stomach. In his hand was an ancient bow and arrow, it had to be around 100 years old. Next thing I knew, he shot the arrow into my neck. Saying the reason I survived and got this power because my soul was so strong. If you kill me, then he'll come get you too!/

Information the man had given just before Josuke and Taki-Taki trapped the psycho in his current stone prison. It did answer quite a bit of questions stemming from an incident that happened 10 years ago. One which was entangled in the tragedy of the Joestar bloodline that started over a mere century ago. The blood feud between the Joestars and Dio Brando.

It begun when the Joestar Matriarch, George Joestar, had brought in an orphan boy after this boy's father passed. That boy was Dio Brando, a child whose immense hate turned him into the most vile and dangerous person in the history of mankind. Poisoning George Joestar, ruining the life of George's son Jonathan, becoming a vampire and then stealing Jonathan's body.

Those were some of the key facts amongst a lot of the vampiric bastard's sins. Jotaro then side eyed something at the far corner of the room, a picture frame whose photo was obscured by the distance. Sadness, and rage going through the ocean blue for a few seconds before fading. He turned his thoughts to something else.

"With the Arrow somewhere on the loose in Morioh, it won't be long until the town becomes a horror show. There's also that woman, Taki-Taki Bandicoot, I'll be keeping an eye on her. I don't trust her." His thoughts going back to his previous encounter with the greenette as he looked down on the table.

There were highly detailed sketches of her, Lani-Loli, Toxic and Quill, each marked with key details depending on the individual. The drawings were so accurate, it could be mistaken for a printout if it wasn't for the fact they were made using color pencils. Strangely there was one more sheet next to them but it was blank except for two simple words.

Crash Bandicoot.

"Come on Dad! We're supposed to see Josuke and his dickish nephew today!" The Wumpa Islands, a pair of three tropical islands found somewhere in the ocean near Australia. It was a home to all sorts of peculiar creatures, mystical areas hidden in every place wrought with all sorts of danger and full of mysterious magic. It was also where the infamous Bandicoot Clan made their residence.

N.Sanity Beach, which could be found on N.Sanity Island was a spot for the clan members to enjoy fun in the sun activities. A bunch of floaties with a tube one shaped like a purple dragon next to a volleyball net, a small bar set with seats for 5 and various drinks from non-alcoholic to a few different alcohol, a couch with a makeshift roof made from cloth, and strangely a fridge and TV on the sand.

Taki-Taki, currently by the couch, was trying to put a large hoodie on some... thing? Someone? It or he from the pronoun used stood around 4'7 in height, what wasn't obscured by the large jacket was a pair of blue jorts, red tennis shoes, orange fur covered legs and part of a orange furred lean stomach with yellow at the center. Distressed gibberish coming from the neck sleeve almost if the head was stuck.

Lani-Loli was merely watching the little show alongside another floating mask. This mask looked exactly like the small charm Taki-Taki had given Ryohei but larger with more details such as a goatee made of leaves, larger feathers that were funnily taped on the back, and was alive from the eyes and mouth both curved in a 'seriously?' look. There was no doubt that this particular mask was Aku-Aku.

With a strong tug, the hood finally came down over the large head of a...bandicoot. The almost cartoonish looking bandicoot had large ears, bright teal eyes with hints of innocent insanity, a brown mohawk of hair, a yellow muzzle and large brown bushy eyebrows. His hands were four fingered and covered by fingerless brown gloves.

"I don't know what's funnier: The fact two sane people are meeting Crash or about to learn that he's an actual bandicoot." Lani-Loli mischievously chuckled. Taki-Taki only said that Crash was her father but not about him being BIOLOGICAL. The greenette is actually adopted and the only human of a family consisting of bandicoots, living masks and other oddities.

"To be fair, she has been listening to my advice about being limited to her origins. Although from what I heard about your last encounter in Morioh, caution should still be advised. This is a whole new world we stumbled upon and there are rules to follow." Aku-Aku's deep, powerful and wise voice sent a clear message to everyone.

None of them had much knowledge about Stands but do know the consequences of their own powers, the mystical energy they wield known as Mojo. It was an ancient source of magic that not only fueled voodoo but all branches of sorcery. Something that could cause unimaginable damage if abused.

Mojo was what made Crash who he is, the powers that Lani-Loli and Aku-Aku have, and what Taki-Taki is learning to master but also the consequences if abused that made creatures like Quill and Toxic. Creatures with great power but have the potential to cause devastation if they run amok: Titans.

If that Stand granting Arrow is being constantly misused and what powers a Stand could potentially manifest, Morioh wasn't as safe as it should be. And there might be its own Titans lurking in the shadows. For now, their true nature needed to be limited whenever visiting the town lest the situation could become worse.

Who knows what kind of horror can manifest if Mojo mixed with a Stand?

The Higashitaka household was a bit offbeat nowadays. Due to the recent 'stroke' that the older matriarch had suffered, the aura of the home for the family of three was a bit rugged. Ryohei had been laid off of his work for a bit as both his employers and fellow officers were worried about the man's health. He was what kept the force happy and ready to go.

Thus he was stuck at home being looked over by his daughter Tomoko and grandson Josuke from time to time. Taki-Taki was currently standing by the door with her father Crash next to her. Her face was obscured by the large hood of his jacket. Lani-Loli and Aku-Aku were currently hidden in Taki's jacket so they wouldn't be seen.

She knocked on the door politely despite how loud it sounded. "Hold on!" A woman's voice fires back in an instant. In a few seconds, the door was opened by a young woman who both father and daughter could guess was Josuke's mother. Josuke definitely got his soft face and beauty from her but Ryohei's kindness was there too.

Her hair was violet and short, eyes a similar baby blue to Josuke but more fiery, she was slim though there definitely was some muscle hidden by her yellow shirt and dark jeans. "Hello! Are you Josuke's mom? He does have your looks and you do look a bit like Mr Ryohei." Her odd deduction had the purplette surprised for a moment.

Then hearing her father's name was enough to put two to two together. "You're right, I'm his mother Tomoko and Ryohei is my father. Are you by chance Taki-Taki Bandicoot? I heard about you from my dad and son. Dad was right about you being adorable. Whose this with you?" Her voice, although soft and kind, held a ferocity behind it. Josuke's fiery temper had to come from someone.

"This is my dad, Crash. Due to some unfortunate circumstances, I couldn't get home for a few days. Josuke let me stay here until I got back but under the condition that he had to talk about my stay with pops." Tomoko easily remembered her son mentioning that when she had gotten back home later that day.

Although she couldn't help but look at the figure that was Taki's father. There was not a single facial feature to make out due to the darkness of the large hoodie he wore but it was his hands that drew flags. Was the orange section part of the gloves and did he lose a finger in an accident? The hands were very odd and that orange part had a texture that looked more fur than leather or latex. Still...

"I'm sorry to say but Josuke had left for school today. Luckily he should be out by now. He attends Budo-ga Oka which isn't that far from Angelo's Rock, the new landmark which recently popped up." Taki-Taki immediately knew what she was talking about. It was near the place where that adorable turtle in the makeshift pond lived at. Shouldn't be too hard to find.

The Haunt House, an eerie landmark of sorts located near the recent Angelo's Rock. This large home could be recognized from the various broken windows that were either without glass or boarded up haphazardly, old paint that chipped away from even the gentlest of breezes and the vine covered gate with the tilted door marked by a 'No Trespassing' sign.

It was called the Haunt House from the feeling of being watched or the eyes of something watching in the shadows of the window whenever someone walks by. Police often patrolled the place for squatters due to these particular sightings and reports. Coming to the backyard strangely enough was the hoodie form of Crash Bandicoot.

From the glimpse of marsupial's green eyes and lack of companions, it was clear that he was lost. He let out a rumble of pure gibberish obviously annoyed. 'Maybe I should've stayed at that rock weirdo… Then again, Taki probably might not be happy to know I no longer have to go.' Crash let out an impish chuckle. Just because he was evolved doesn't mean he stopped 'marking his territory'.

'Dad, I need you to stay here with Angelo for me. If Josuke still isn't at school, then he'll most likely come through here to get home. It shouldn't take long for us to come back.' His daughter's words echoing in his head.

He felt a bit ashamed for not listening. It just he wasn't used to standing in one place for so long if it didn't involve napping. The bandicoot had a silly smile thinking about a nice snooze in his hammock after a nice slice of Wumpa Fruit pie. The little daydream was popped by the sound of soft skittering that hit his large furry ears.

Crash looked up before tilting his left ear towards the creepy house. The sound had to be somewhere in the upper levels from how it reverberated through the walls. Whatever made it was too big for an insect or small cat to do. Spying an open window with the least amount of boards, the bandicoot giggled to himself as an idea came. Little claws popped from the marsupial's fingers with a simple flex before he leapt onto the wall. Once the talons had a good grip, Crash climbed up the house wall and slipped in through the empty window pane.

"Motherfucker!" "Language!" Heterochromia eyes could only glare at the currently shivering stone convict. Taki had gone over to the school Tomoko mentioned after requesting her dad to stay put. Sadly, they couldn't find any sign of Josuke and looking for Jotaro was impossible without the pompadour prince's help. After visiting the little turtle in the pond, the greenette and her mask companions backtracked to the landmark.

Yet, her mutant bandicoot father was nowhere to be found and a foul smelling puddle was now present on the rock's lips. Normally something as gross as this got her laughing but at the moment the witch doctor was just annoyed. "Guess we were gone for a bit too long. Patience isn't something Crash normally has these days." Lani-Loli said while looking at the wet spot in distaste.

None of them should be surprised that the bandicoot would wander off somewhere. Luckily or disgustingly, there was a scent that could be used to find their lost marsupial. The witch doctor went into her jacket pocket to pull out a small vial that contained a soft luminous blue liquid. Taking off the small cork, Taki downed the tube's contents in a single gulp.

After placing the empty glass tube back in the pocket, the witch doctor then reached into the dinosaur skull she wore. Her hand pulled out a small peculiar object that was hidden in her bone headwear. It appeared to be a fang of some sort but was too thick, too large, and oddly too sharp to belong to any normal animal. Lani-Loli and Aku-Aku exchanged looks then quickly getting a few feet from Taki before she devoured the tooth with gusto.

In an instant, her eyes narrowed into slits and tattoos blazed to life in burning blue. She suddenly hunched down as if in pain followed by the sound of beastial snarling. The statue could only stare in perpetual terror upon the morphing shadow that started to cascade over him. Tears pouring from the frozen orbs from the sight of what could only be best described as a monster.

A distorted scraping noise ripped through the ominously quiet neighborhood before it was quickly followed by the sound of shattering pavement. This ruckus came from the front of Morioh's Haunt House for a battle was being waged at its steps. One of the fighters was Josuke whose uniform was dirtied up a bit along with a few scratches on his face. It was the least of his worries though.

Standing in an defensive position was another teenager around his age and size, a male Stand User from the bright fiery blue aura that flared his form. He had the look of a punk, shaved black hair that looked gray with a mini pompadour which sat at the mods, his eyes that seemed to only have impish pupils alongside a thin but large X-shaped scar or line pattern on his head.

The punk wore a modified blue gakuran with multiple gold pins shaped like money symbols on the fabric. "I won't say this again. Okuyasu Nijimura, you better let me through you bastard! Koichi isn't part of whatever bullshit your up to!" Josuke snarled at his opponent with hot daggers in his baby blue eyes.

The now named Okuyasu merely let out an impish chuckle before speaking with a rough and ruggish voice. "Sorry pal but you'll have to go through me first! Come closer and greet The Hand!" Almost on cue, a white hand with two bulbous baseball patterned protrusions on the palm came from behind the teen's head. The pomp prince quickly jumped to the side as the appendage swatted at his previous position instead, the 'No Trespassing' sign.

Alarms bells went through his head upon noticing the sign wasn't destroyed but it wasn't the same either. The text looked...too short almost if something was missing or had disappeared. It then clicked upon another glance of the item. "That sign! It used to say 'No Trespassing' but now it only says 'No passing'! Your Stand scraped the 'tres' away!"

Josuke's deductions caused his opponent's smile to grow malicious. The spectral arm next to the young man transitioning into something larger. In seconds that limb had fully materialized its true form, a white humanoid puppet outlined by blue armor bearing gold money symbols. The puppet shared a similar build to his master, its colorless hide sharing the same hardened texture of the armor, and his head was held in a white pail bucket that obscured part of its yellow lined eyes and the almost expressionless lips.

"That's right Josuke! My Stand can scrape away anything that it's right hand touches before closing the missing space together. I don't know where it goes or even if it still exists anymore but I do know you'll be sure to follow!" The Hand then scraped the air as a green tear rips right through the dimension. It immediately shuts closed in seconds as the purplette soon found his opponent in front of him at the same time.

He had used the created tear to close the distance between them. Okuyasu held his fist back almost about to speak when… the sound of whistling flew over their heads as a blast of glowing pink had sent Josuke's attacker airborne upon striking his Stand in the chest. The pompadour prince only had the time to blink before a pair of animalistic heterochromia eyes looked back at his.

What stood before had to be one of Taki-Taki's creatures, nothing could have been as odd or mystical like they strangely were. However this one felt off in a familiar sort of way. The creature looked like a bipedal almost anthropomorphic fox. It was monstrous with spindly long arms paired with black paws that held sharp claws, limber and lean build that was perfect for predatory stealth, the face was foxish but could be mistaken for a coyote or cougar from the longer ears and snout, and there were large purple parrot feathers on its back in a leafy plumage manner.

The off signs came from the tattoos around its arm that looked too much like Taki-Taki's, the greenish short hair on its head and the dinosaur skull… It immediately clicked on what or who had just defended his bacon. "Holy shit. Taki-Taki, is that you?" His query being answered upon a large prickly tongue licking his face courteous of the 9 ft beast that once was a human girl.

Josuke's face turned beet red and he honestly couldn't say if it was in disgust, embarrassment or touched by the sticky dog kiss. "Josuke?!" He whipped his head to see Lani-Loli flying over to the two but immediately stopped from the sound of hyena/wolf growling. Eyes were on the now standing Okuyasu who then looked flabbergasted by the new faces.

"What the hell?! Is one of those things that scrawny munchkin's Stand?! Or some sort of monster? No matter, The Hand will scrape you all out of existence!" His Stand manifesting once more with the right hand ready to erase even more space. Sadly, he didn't anticipate what particular creature the greenette was.

Letting out a loud hyena-like cackle Taki threw a large but fast pink orb of energy straight from her hand. It was a glowing magenta torpedo that clipped through the side of the Stand's right wrist in seconds. Okuyasu howled in pain from a chunk of his right wrist exploding outward almost if his body was mirroring the Hand's injury.

"The Snipe, a predatory beast that hunts its targets with high speed projectiles and is a close range fighter's worse nightmare!" Lani-Loli spoke while watching the green haired beast pounce at the off guard teen. Her feet instantly knocked the air out of Okuyasu's chest which forced his Stand to vanish from the lack of breath. He could only look up at the large drooling teeth of the angry beast that currently had him pinned down in fear.

His eyes quickly shut almost if waiting for the end only to scrunch his face in confusion by a soft touch. With a small peek, the young man was greeted to the sight of the large monster's forehead gently pressed against his own. A strange sensation going through his mind in a second before it- no she looked back at him with sympathy.

Taki then looked over to Josuke and Lani-Loli before the feathers on her back started glowing in strange patterns. The purplette was confused by the odd signals but the Quantum Mask knew what it meant. It was a sign of Morse Code Taki had developed for this form. "Josuke! Heal him, this guy isn't your enemy! Apparently he has a reasonable story behind this attack! Something involving his father!"

Lani-Loli's words made Okuyasu's eyes widen in realization. "You...went through my head? You saw the 'thing'." That last word practically quivered in silent despair and sorrow. Taki merely nodded her head before getting off the teenager. She quickly stalked towards the Haunt House. The harsh stench of blood hit her nose full force which turned a small crawl into an urgent run.

Her predatory eyes immediately ignored the man in the darkness for the childlike teenager that was slowly dying on the ground. He had short well groomed silver hair, light almost pasty skin and wore a plain green gakuran but his blue eyes were slowly becoming lifeless from the nasty arrow wound in his neck. Taki knew he would die if he wasn't treated.

"How curious. You the child's Stand or perhaps belong to-" The female Snipe growled before nonchalantly tossing a blast of pink at the unwanted pest. The man must've scurried out of the way from the sound of wood exploding to chips. Knowing there wasn't going to be an interruption, Taki reached for one of her feathers and plucked it off her back.

Holding the item in hand, she let out growls that sounded close to a chant as the piece of parrot plumage began to glow a soothing green. Taki crushed the feather in her hand as it broke into verdant stardust before pouring the powder over the large gouge on the boy's neck. The large wound immediately glowed a vibrant emerald as it steadily shrank. In seconds, the large gash was gone and the young man's eyes regained its vivid color once his breathing had steadied.

He blinked once more before blue eyes settled on the large beast hovering above him. A normal reaction to the sight was to scream but instead he felt his neck and noticed that his injuries were completely gone. Taki definitely knew he was a calculative and reasonable type since he put two to two together. "You...saved me." Despite the youth in his voice, the slight baritone was enough to solidify that this was a teenager and not a child.

"Koichi!" Josuke bursted into the house alongside Lani-Loli and oddly a determined Okuyasu who was following from behind. The punk looking teen no longer had any rips on his clothing or flesh, almost if everything was returned to their previous state. "Big brother, you need to stop right now! These guys can help us! Help d-" He was cut off when Taki quickly got in front of him.

Multiple tiny holes manifesting on her hide and feather plumage as if she was hit with bullet rounds from a tiny minigun. The puncture wounds weren't deep enough to draw blood since she wasn't human at the moment but… they had enough strength to disfigure a normal person like blood swiss cheese.

Taki snarled at the attackers, no, attacker to be precise. The ones to fire the barrage of nasty tiny bullets was an entire shooting squadron that consisted of toy army sized men. Same military clothing but the faces covered in white taping, eyes just beady red headlights and a thick flame of blue around them.

When the witch doctor like this, the number of magic she could use was limited but made difficult spells like mind reading or healing very easy. Okuyasu's memories told her what exactly she was dealing with. The platinum blonde teenager slightly older than Okuyasu, his older brother Keicho and his Stand, a mini army known as Bad Company.

"Big brother…" Was all the younger brother could say upon realization that the attack was aimed for him. Taki gave the three human males behind her a look. 'He's mine.' None of them said a word of disagreement. Knowing what was about to happen, Lani-Loli took it upon himself to get Josuke and his two accomplices away from the approaching battle.

The three humans and mask vanished in a sudden puff of wispy blue smoke. Taki-Taki's sharp nose told her that her friend had taken them to the higher floors of the house. A safe place which made the monstrous witch doctor happy for they wouldn't get caught in the crossfire. She then turned her head to snarl viciously at Okuyasu's older brother.

"I can only guess that little mask has the power to teleport others. No matter, it won't take long for my Bad Company to find them once I finish you off. Then your friends will be next." Keicho's threat was backed further when a swarm of mini helicopters manifested in the air. "Fire!"

The Snipe quickly sprinted into a run as the mini army fired their payloads in the form of raining bullets and mini missiles. Wood chips, glass shards, and furniture stuffing erupted in a trail that hounded the quick Taki-Taki, avoiding the deadly miniature ammunition with impressive. She leapt onto the ceiling fan and flung herself into the air whilst throwing another blast of pink energy from her claws.

A large chunk of soldiers and a few helicopters exploded into magenta tinted flames from a successful hit. However, their owner didn't seem to suffer any sign of damage despite the destruction of his soldiers. "Sorry but my Bad Company is a remote Stand. Destroy all the soldiers you want, you can't harm me!" Keicho's words caused even more miniature men to manifest but these ones were operating tanks now!

Taki knew she couldn't fight here with so many weapons aimed at her hide. She would run out of steam before her opponent did. An idea then clicked into Taki's skull which propelled her to make a quick turn. She tossed a few more explosive shots at the tiny army as she ran. Every bullet was a bullseye as even more of Bad Company's soldiers went up in magenta smoke.

Her opponent quickly caught onto what the larger puffs of smoke that slowly filled the room were. "A smokescreen?!" Eyes looking to find the obscured beastie that ran up the stairs and he quickly glared. "After it!" Multiple tiny helicopters manifested to hound their fleeing target as the blonde followed in pursuit.

On the top floor of the Haunt House, Josuke was currently glaring daggers at a certain blue mask. The sounds of an explosive scuffle happening under his feet and a set of blue spectral chains that kept the door of their current location shut. "Lani-Loli, let us out!"

Despite the pompadour prince's demand, the Quantum Mask only shook his head in nervous defiance. "N-no way! You'll be either swiss cheese from gunfire or human flambe by blasts of Mojo! It's suicide!" Lani-Loli fired back with force despite his slight stutter. Of course, the mask flinched when Crazy Diamond manifested with a snarl on his face.

The only ones not getting involved in the potential scuffle was Okuyasu and Koichi who sat on the bed at the opposite side of the room. In the silver haired teen's hands was a yellowish pale egg with green stripes but also radiated a faint verdant aura. A Stand or Stand Egg that had manifested from Koichi's throat once getting into the room.

"I don't care if Taki can become one of those beasts like Quill or Toxic. She needs backup if her opponent's an army!" The large armored Stand clenched his fists as if ready to let loose a punch any second. "That's enough!" An aged voice immediately had the three teens raise their guard to the point even Okuyasu's The Hand manifested next to his master.

Coming through one of the half sealed windows was Aku-Aku whose appearance made whatever fight in either Josuke or Crazy Diamond vanish. "Aku! Where were you?! First Crash went puff then you go awol on us!" Lani-Loli was quickly hushed by a single look from his companion. Glowing yellow eyes then looked at the other members of the room.

"I had a feeling you were in quite a pickle so I went to find Crash first. He's somewhere in the house on the top floor waiting for you. As for Taki-Taki, her opponent is about to walk right into her 'tripwire'." Aku spoke as his gaze fixated on Josuke and his stand. The pompadour youth speaking up in confusion. "Tripwire?"

The tiki-esqe mask nodded in response at the inquiry. "Correct. Snipes are powerful long range fighters especially in confined spaces like this. Their biggest advantage isn't their ability to blast opponents with magic." A smirk then crossed Aku-Aku's face as if knowing the outcome of the ongoing battle.

Taki-Taki continued her trek up the house as Keicho and his forces relentlessly pursued the female. Every time a soldier or copter was in sight, the greenette blasted it with a pink energy shot before she took the chance to flee further. Her running however came to a halt once she reached a mostly clean room. Not a single shred of furniture or anything to hide the witch doctor's large form in sight.

"Got you now." Keicho's voice echoed through the room for hundreds of small soldiers filled it in seconds. Tanks slipping in from the vents, helicopters pouring from the open windows, armored humvees riding up from the stair railing and their owner walking in from the staircase. Taki-Taki wasn't to blind to the fact she was boxed in.

"I'll admit you're quite the fast runner and a nasty sniper. Sadly, this is the worst place for something as large as you. However, my Bad Company can thrive throughout our home base. I suggest you be a good beast and stay down." The older teen deviously chuckled as he stared down at the beast. His laughter quickly died in seconds when he noticed Taki-Taki was now smiling. A smile that revealed razor sharp fangs in a cunningly vicious way.

"It's the ability to set traps is what makes the Snipe a very dangerous Titan to fight."

Bits of pink began to lit up in sections of the room. Her opponent's eyes flickering to the source before they expanded in pure horror. Each light was coming from one of his soldiers in every group. Not even the quadcopters, tanks or humvees were unaffected. The horrifying part was the lights were blinking and were becoming faster per a second. 'Checkmate.'

The house shook hard as a loud explosion ripped throughout one of the floors, smoke tainted with hints of sparkling pink came pouring from the broken windows. In the large mist, the sound of coughing growls turned into pained ones as the large beast obscured shrunk in the purple haze. The remainder of the colorful screen filtered out as the now human Taki-Taki looked down at her fallen opponent.

Keicho was unconscious, bruises and burns covering his face and arms, platinum locks singed slightly black while billowing bits of smoke poured from the strands of hair and his uniform was charred with multiple holes through it. "The Phantom Bomber, a nice Snipe technique which lets undetectable bombs get planted on the enemy. The more collected in one spot, the bigger the boom." She walked over and hoisted the teen on her shoulders without a hint of strain.

Climbing up the stairs, the greenette could hear the voices of her friends from above. With some pep in her step, Taki ran up the stretch of stairs as the unconscious Nijimura brother shook and bounced. It didn't take long for heterochromatic eyes to stare back at a pair of baby blue. Everyone but her father was gathered outside of one specific door.

That door having the sound of familiar babble from behind its wooden threshold. "Taki-Taki! You're okay?!" Josuke looked ready to hug her if he didn't catch sight of Okuyasu's injured brother slung over the greenette's shoulder. "Big brother!" The teen quickly rushed over to his sibling. "Don't worry. He's alright albeit beaten up. Plus, his ego needed a nice kick so common sense can walk back in." The witch doctor chuckled, smiling with her tongue out.

Before anyone could go through the door, a particular situation needed to be handled first. A soft gold aura from Crazy Diamond enveloped the wounded platinum blonde in its soothing embrace. Wounds and damages done to both flesh and clothing vanished in seconds as the teen slowly woke up.

Keicho looked at all the faces surrounding him before he settled to glare at the woman who was the large beast from earlier. "You're lucky I'm a merciful person and you care about your family more than you let on. So, how long has your dad been cursed?" Taki-Taki's words surprised everyone but Lani-Loli, Aku-Aku and Okuyasu for obvious reasons.

There was a reason why the Nijimura brothers, well mainly Keicho, were using the Stand Arrow to create Stand Users. It was for the sake of their father. From Okuyasu's memories, their father had gotten into 'bad' connections with Dio. A deal of sorts that had more consequences than the man had thought. Upon Dio's death, bits of the vampire's flesh that were implanted in their dad had triggered a transformation of sorts.

A being unable to speak and unable to die that skittered through the halls of their home like a mouse for years. "Are you capable of giving him his eternal rest? We've been searching for someone that could extinguish that mindless 'thing' who used to be our father." His plea shook with pure desperate hope and sincere sorrow.

Reasonable for spending years in a house with a monster that was once your father, especially one mistaken for being mindless. "Have you noticed something odd about your home right now?" The question from the witch doctor was enough to widen the eyes of both brothers. It was the lack of skittering from something large that constantly moved through the house.

"Your father isn't mindless or gone. He's still there." Taki-Taki then opened the door to the room. Everyone was greeted to the appearance of a particular marsupial talking to an odd kappa-like creature. The being had thick green skin, slightly deformed from the lumps on his body such as the head or fingers, what appeared to be a beak for a mouth and wore worn clothes such as a white shirt and black shorts.

This had to be the Nijimura brothers' cursed father but what was strange is that he was showing a hoodless Crash something. An old photograph from the slight yellow coloration that showed a man and two very familiar young children smiling at the camera. The two were conversing in unintelligible babble but both clearly understood the other.

"That's our old family photo… He was searching for the photo of what he used to be…" The fact from Okuyasu's lips was enough to paint the picture for them. Despite the vast deformity, their father still remembered them, of their family before it all went to hell. The other oddity in the room finally hit everyone unaware of it.

"What's with the giant animal? It looks like an eastern barred bandicoot...if it was a living mascot costume." Koichi's question was paired with him pointing at the large marsupial. "Seriously dad? If you want to make friends then tell us instead of going into some rando's house after peeing on a town landmark."

The comical looks of eyeballs about to pop out from their sockets and jaws dropping to the floor made the greenette wish that she brought a camera seeing everyone's face. It was even funnier that the pompadour prince's hair looked ready to pop from the intensity of his utter shock. Surprisingly, Josuke was the first to get his speech back.

"T-that's your dad?! H-h-how?!" Now that done it for the greenette began laughing upon the purplette's insinuation. "Hahahaha! I'm adopted silly. Crash raised me ever since I was a baby that got washed ashore on his island. He may be a 'mentally challenged' wacky bandicoot but he's still my dad!"

The marsupial walked over and hugged Taki-Taki before placing a hand on her back. His pose and chest puffed up proudly practically screamed 'Yep, that's my daughter.' Strangely enough, it did make some sense about the young woman's oddness. Both Taki-Taki and Crash carried that same energetic weirdness to them.

"Aw. Such a sweet moment. Sweet enough to make me puke!" An unrecognizable male voice immediately had eyes facing the front. Part of the wall was charged with frantic electricity as if something was inside the wiring. It was easy to tell it was bad news from Keicho's sudden grimace.

One of the power outlets immediately exploded outward in large yellow bolts of electricity. The malevolent energy crackling as it began to form into a near physical entity. This new form resembled a bright yellow kappa from the beak and near egg shaped dish on its head with a long spindly lizard tail, thin almost featureless body and sparks of electricity crackling from its skin.

However it was the items it had that drew up red flags for everyone. In this being's clawed fingers was an ancient bow and arrow. The same ones no doubt capable of granting someone a Stand. "Oh no! Is that the Bow and Arrow, the one you guys have been talking about!?" Lani-Loli's cry made the electrifying entity smile maliciously.

"Guess who's Stand has fully awakened Nijimura? I honestly thought nothing would get you to drop your guard of the Arrow but I guess that chick and her friends was just enough! It was almost easy to snatch it with my Red Hot Chili Pepper's power!" The platinum blonde could only growl at his careless mistake. He was too caught up in his pursuit of powerful Stand Users to realize this kind of outcome.

"Do you really think your capable of wielding the Arrow's power? Your Stand has only just awakened after all! There's no way you can wield it properly!" Keicho hissed while the blue aura of his Stand began to flare up. The enemy Stand or Red Hot Chili Pepper merely laughed before aiming his glare on the blond.

"So naive. My Stand's powers had grown while you were busy. After all, you did say those with a powerful fighting spirit can manifest equally powerful Stands. Here let me show you!" It was quick as a bolt of lightning. One second Chili Pepper was at the socket and the next he was about to punch Keicho's chest. Only if a spin of orange didn't jump in front of the Red Hot Chili Peppers' range.

The Stand merely continued its charge only to cry out in shock when a twirling fist hit his face alongside a glare that were both from Crash Bandicoot. Chili Pepper was smacked back inside the electrical socket from the marsupial's Tornado Spin technique as Crash stood protectively in front of the older Nijimura Brother.

"Lani-Loli!" Aku-Aku's cry wasn't missed as the two masks quickly went into action. Both of them focused a bit of their magic that was quickly released in the form of a violent bluish stream. The shot struck the power outlet as the yellow electricity that threatened to return was shoved back inside the wiring so hard that the sockets literally exploded.

A scream of 'You'll pay for this!' followed until the leftover sparks crackled into nothing. "You saved my life… Why? Why help your enemy?!" Keicho questioned whilst staring at the orange bandicoot. Crash mere made a bunch of hand signals before smiling with a thumbs up. It was sign language.

"He said 'No family should mourn for a death that could be avoided.' Sure you tried to kill me, shot Koichi, created an army of Stand Users and tried to shoot your brother's face but you were only being a big jackass so your family didn't have to suffer. Your lives are already messed up as it is, you don't need it to become even worse."

The older teen who didn't expect the response widened his eyes before he subtly began to chuckle. "You all are insane." The sentence only made a stupid grin pop on the father and daughter duo's face. Everyone's attention was soon back on the blown power outlet.

"I fear that this situation has escalated into unimaginable levels. Creating a cure to the Nijimura matriarch shouldn't be difficult for me to find. However, that Bow and Arrow needs to be recovered as soon as possible. I could only fear what kind of horrors it could create in the hands of that fiend." Aku-Aku's warning wasn't lost on anyone.

Things were only to get more dangerous from now on.

I hope this was much better than my original script! There will be changes to some of Part 4's plot mainly that some deaths will be averted like Ryohei's and Keicho's. I honestly felt it was a dick to kill Keicho instead of using the chance to give him some character.

Taki-Taki's Beast Out ability has made an appearance. This lets her transform into any non-human creature whether it is a familiar or by consuming particular materials with a special potion. Kinda like N Brio's potions but more refined. Her magic is mostly restricted along with speech for particular Titans but she gets access to two powerful spells that can be set on a specific form. Her Snipe form having Mind Read and Advanced Healing Magic.

Crash deflecting an electric Stand like Red Hot Chili Pepper isn't so farfetched if you take the Cortex battle in the first Crash game. He's also more of a forgiving person when you take into consideration his interactions with Cortex in both Twinsanity but also some flashback tapes I heard about in Crash 4.

And Jotaro having trust issues is normal considering how many bad encounters he had with Stand Users especially in Part 3.

Until next time folks! Enjoy this Crash Bandicoot 4 Rap by JT Machinima.

[tswiftdaily]

New Reputation: Taylor Swift shares intel on TS7, fan theories, and her next era

Snakes begone. The 29-year-old superstar is back with a new album and a new outlook on life. We go inside the pop monarch's latest chapter.

THE PALM TREES ARRIVED IN FEBRUARY, seven in all, set against a pastel blue backdrop with superimposed stars. It appeared that a new Taylor Swift era was upon us — that the old happy-go-lucky Taylor was not, in fact, dead. Or did it? It wasonly an Instagram photo, just one more picture in an infinite content scroll. But it also came from a pop star known for prodigious hint-dropping, whose fans turn every piece of info into an online archaeological dig.

As expected, the summery post sent Swifties sifting through each detail with a fine-tooth comb. What did the trees symbolize? An overdue vacation? A recently purchased beach house? A secret palm-frond collection? Or maybe, as many surmised, it was new music. One Twitter user predicted that the number of stars in the background of the photo hinted at a single drop: “There’s about 60/61 [stars]️. There’s 61 days until April 26, FRIDAY, a SINGLE RELEASE day!” Another said it was the unofficial announcement of her next LP: “Okay so in this picture there are 4 palm trees on the left (4 country albums). There are two palm trees on the right (2 pop albums). There is one large palm tree in the middle. This represents her new album.” These may sound like ludicrous conspiracy theories — for the record, they were mostly correct — but they fit firmly within the Taylor Swift Musical Universe (it’s like the Marvel Cinematic Universe but with more guitars and fewer Stan Lee cameos).

“I posted that the day that I finished the seventh album,” says Swift about the photo. “I couldn’t expect [my fans] to know that. I figured they’d figure it out later, but a lot of their theories were actually correct. Those Easter eggs were just trying to establish that tone, which I foreshadowed ages ago in a Spotify vertical video for ‘Delicate’ by painting my nails those [pastel] colors.”

It’s now April, and the 29-year-old pop star is in a Los Angeles photo studio, giving her first sit-down magazine interview in three years. She wants to discuss the art of placing hints inside her work, as well as the upcoming record, which she recorded as soon as she finished the Reputation Tour. She’s also keen on detailing her own obsessions, talking up the TV shows, books, and songs that help shape her outlook on life.

Over the past 13 years, Swift has perfected the pop culture feedback loop: She shares updates about her life and drops hints about new music, which fans then gobble up and re-promote with their own theories, which Swift then re-shares on her Tumblr or incorporates into future clues. It’s like a T-Swift-built Escher staircase of personal memories and moments that tease what’s next. “I’ve trained them to be that way,” she says of her fans’ astute detective work. Swift is a pop culture fanatic herself (see: the jean jacket she’s wearing on the EW cover) and has an innate understanding of the lengths her audience will go to be a part of the original creation. “I love that they like the cryptic hint-dropping. Because as long as they like it, I’ll keep doing it. It’s fun. It feels mischievous and playful.”

Through this approach, Swift has designed the ultimate artistic scavenger hunt — and it’s easy to get swept up in its drama, even if you don’t listen to her music. Her moments aren’t always hidden, either. Sometimes Swift highlights aspects of her world just so fans feel like they’re on the journey with her. Like the time in March 2018 when pop singer Hayley Kiyoko was accused of shading Swift after mentioning her name during an interview. On Tumblr, Swift re-shared a fan’s post, adding commentary that defended Kiyoko, which immediately dispelled any conflicts between the two artists; Swift’s post subsequently received more than 29,000 notes. Four months later, she invited Kiyoko on stage during the Reputation Tour to sing her hit “Curious.” Kiyoko returned the favor when she had Swift join her that December at a benefit on behalf of the LGBTQ organization the Ally Coalition to perform “Delicate.” Fans of both artists were elated by the mutual support.

The feedback loop also extends outside of music. In October 2018, Swift broke her silence about politics by publicly endorsing two candidates for office in her adopted state of Tennessee, while encouraging her followers to register to vote. She kept up the civic momentum through Election Day when she asked fans to post selfies after voting; Swift then eagerly re-promoted her favorites on Instagram stories.

This practice of sharing and re-sharing and sharing again is why listeners consider Swift one of the world’s most accessible pop stars, someone willing to not only interact with her audience but invite them to secret listening sessions, or make the occasional surprise visit to their wedding or prom. It’s a symbiotic relationship, one that, as Swift tells EW, helped her dig out of the darker era of reputation. “It’s definitely the fans that made that tonal shift in the way I was feeling,” she says. “Songwriters need to communicate, and part of communicating correctly is when you put out a message that is understood the way you meant it. reputation was interesting because I’d never before had an album that wasn’t fully understood until it was seen live. When it first came out everyone thought it was just going to be angry; upon listening to the whole thing they realized it’s actually about love and friendship, and finding out what your priorities are.”

Then, during the Reputation Tour, she had an epiphany: that despite the caricature that she thought had been created of her, there were many people who saw what others had simply refused to. “I would look out into the audience and I’d see these amazing, thoughtful, caring, wonderful, empathetic people,” she says. “So often with our takedown culture, talking s— about a celebrity is basically the same as talking s— about the new iPhone. So when I go and I meet fans, I see that they actually see me as a flesh-and-blood human being. That — as contrived as it may sound — changed [me] completely, assigning humanity to my life.”

At tour’s end, she channeled that positive energy into the studio, recording the new album in just under three months. But the fast pace won’t mean a short LP. Swift confirmed that her seventh record (she hasn’t announced a title yet; the working nickname among fans is TS7) will include more songs than any of her previous releases. “I try not to go into making an album with any expectation,” she says. “I started to write so much that I knew immediately it would probably be bigger.”

The project will also feature a mix of old and new collaborators (on the candy-coated lead single “ME!” Swift brought in Panic! At the Disco frontman Brendon Urie and coproducer Joel Little, both of whom she had never worked with), but she is unsurprisingly coy about doling out much more information, as if doing so would break the carefully honed T-Swiftian feedback loop. “There’s a lot of a lot on this album,” she says. “I’m trying to convey an emotional spectrum. I definitely don’t wanna have too much of one thing…. You get some joyful songs and you get the bops, as they say.” There’s also, she adds, some “really, really, really, really sad songs,” but “not enough to where you need to worry about me.”

She gives us one more clue: The true distinction between TS7 and reputation is in the delivery. “This time around I feel more comfortable being brave enough to be vulnerable, because my fans are brave enough to be vulnerable with me. Once people delve into the album, it’ll become pretty clear that that’s more of the fingerprint of this — that it’s much more of a singer-songwriter, personal journey than the last one.”

The past month has seen a deluge of Swift activity, from the release of the new single to dropping more hints in interviews about the record and its title, which is apparently hidden somewhere inside the “ME!” music video (current fan guesses include Kaleidoscope and Daisy). But if the Easter eggs from the pop star seem like a business-as-usual routine, she says this album does indeed mark a new era of her life, where she’s been better able to prioritize what’s important to her.

“Our priorities can get messed up existing in a society that puts a currency on curating the way people see your life,” she says. “Social media has given people a way to express their art. I use it to connect with fans. But on the downside you feel like there are 3 trillion new invisible hoops that you have to jump through, and you feel like you’ll never be able to jump through them all correctly. I — along with a lot of my friends and fans — am trying to figure out how to navigate living my life and not just curating what I want people to think living my life is. I’m not always able to maintain a balance, and I think that’s important for everyone to know about. We’re always learning, and that’s something that I also had to learn — that I’ve got to be brave enough to learn. Learning in public is so humiliating sometimes…. Do I feel more balanced in my life than I ever have before? Um, probably yeah. But is that permanent? No. And I think being okay with that has put me in a bit of a better position.” Strong words to live by, to quote, to re-share, to tweet back to her, and see if she’ll respond.

(x)

[ohblackdiamond]

little t&a (paul/gene, nc-17) (part 5 of 29)

part 1   part 2   part 3   part 4   part 5   part 6   part 7   part 8   part 9   part 10   part 11   part 12   part 13   part 14   part 15   part 16   part 17   part 18   part 19   part 20   part 21  part 22   part 23   part 24    part 25   part 26   part 27   part 28   part 29 Four weeks before KISS gets back on tour, Gene discovers that Paul’s been cursed by a groupie. For the sake of KISS’ finances, Paul’s comfort levels, and Gene’s libido, this crisis must be resolved. Sexswap fic. In this chapter: Gene tries to reason out some deep-seated denial, and Peter defends Paul.

           Normally, Paul could spend hours in clothing stores. Tight jeans, platform boots, designer blouses and ascots. Feathery jackets and animal print coats. He’d dressed as wildly as possible from the time he was twelve or thirteen on, saving up every dime to buy new clothes, always hoping they’d be the ticket to feeling—oh, like they did. Like other people must. Confident and swaggering. Gene had been like that from the very start, even though, when he’d met Gene, Gene had been easily forty pounds overweight and was wearing overalls that only emphasized his gut.

           That had been a pretty rude awakening for Paul. He’d realized it wasn’t in looking the part. Confidence was something inherent. Offstage, he couldn’t ever seem to purchase more than small slivers of it. And he didn’t think he could purchase it now (well, on Gene’s dime), in a mid-tier boutique, self-consciously shoving his way through racks of bras. Gene hadn’t told him to pick one up, but he hadn’t had to, either. He’d known he needed one from the start; it kind of hurt to run up stairs without any support, and the nightclub would be fucking awful without a bra, but he’d just kept putting it off. As if this female body would go away if he refused to acknowledge it, like a groupie left to linger in the Coop until morning.

           Speaking of groupies, he was still wondering about the one who’d cursed him. He could sort of remember her face as Suzie had described her, but it was puzzling. The S&M bit had been relatively light, no whips or toys, and she hadn’t come across like a nut. She’d said he’d had her before. That didn’t mean much, either. Especially in certain areas, he’d end up with some of the same groupies again. Sweet Connie, for one—the only girl Paul knew for a fact had fucked every single member of the band, and half its roadies—and there were plenty others. It was almost a wrestling circuit; the girls all knew each other, even if he didn’t know them.

           But what could he really have done to make that girl that mad? He couldn’t remember promising a chick much of anything in several years. Sometimes he’d get a bit sloppy with it, toss the girl some cab fare as he asked her to leave (she’d think he meant it as a tip, and throw it back at him), but he didn’t get off on humiliating them like some guys did. They came with the room, that was all. Stress relief. God knew he’d heard of plenty of rockstars and movie stars who’d Quaalude the hell out of whatever girl (or guy) they wanted. But he’d never done something like that. Fuck, his chicks were actually sober.

It really didn’t add up. Gene was triple the cad than he was, and he still had his dick. Peter and Ace cheated constantly on their wives, but Lydia and Jeanette hadn’t joined forces and sent a sex-changing demon after them. Whatever. He exhaled, taking four bras of slightly different sizes back to the dressing room and trying on each in turn, wishing he’d let the shopgirl help. The clasps were annoying enough that he ended up having to fasten the bras in the front, squashing his chest in the process, then turn the whole thing around just to put it on. The third bra out of the stack seemed to fit the best, a cream-colored underwire one that wasn’t too padded or too heavy on the lace and flowers. It looked okay reflected in the dressing room mirror, if a little stupid, paired with the boxers he was still stubbornly clinging to.

           After another ten minutes or so, he’d also picked out a few pairs of underwear and a pair of fishnet stockings. Another half an hour and he had a fake leather jacket, graphic tee, cut-off jean shorts, and a pair of boots. He didn’t really dig the ensemble in the mirror. More that he didn’t dig the unhappy girl in the mirror any more than he dug the unhappy guy he usually saw there. But maybe he’d look punk enough for CBGB. Would he need more clothes than that, though? On the chance that she didn’t show, or, worse, didn’t reverse the curse? Paul’s stomach churned at the thought. He got another dress, two blouses, heels, and a pair of jeans, deciding he’d write Gene a check for everything once this was all over.

           By the time he headed to check out, Gene was already waiting for him with his own bag of already-paid-for clothes. Paul tried to get a peek—he didn’t think Gene could go believably punk without intense help—but Gene held his two bags closed, pulling out a credit card to cover Paul’s purchases.

           “Hey, that’s not fair. I could use the laugh, show me what you bought.” Aggravating enough to have Gene watch the clerk ring up the bra and underwear.

           “Later.” Gene looked positively amused. Paul grabbed his own bags of clothes as soon as they were paid for, oblivious to the raised eyebrow the clerk threw Gene’s way for not carrying the bags for him.

           “If you won’t show me, don’t expect me to drive you anywhere for lunch.”

           The clerk perked up.

“Your girl’s driving? She’s got you by the balls.”

           “You have no idea,” Gene said.

--

           They ended up going through the McDonald’s drive-thru for lunch without Gene having to divulge any of his purchases. Paul had dug up enough change from the middle console to pay for it, and he was chatting up a storm about CBGB’s semi-resident bands—Blondie, apparently, was a pretty good act—between handfuls of French fries.

           “It doesn’t hold a ton of people, either, so if the groupie’s there, we’ll know pretty quickly. It’s not wall-to-wall like at Studio 54.” Paul shook his head. “Have you gone over there yet, Gene?”

           “Not yet.” He’d meant to. The disco had just opened when they’d gotten off tour. The big stars had already marked it as their territory, people like Mick and Bianca Jagger, Diana Ross, and Liza Minnelli. The prospect of being in their league was its own intoxicant. “Have you?”

           “Yeah, once. Y’know, I saw Andy Warhol there. He said he wanted to paint me.” Even through the food, Paul sounded pleased. “I kinda blew him off, I think he was just trying to come on to me, but hell, it might be fun.”

           “Getting with Warhol?”

           “Getting painted by Warhol. Jesus, Gene.” He paused. “He’s not my type.”

          “You’re not his type, right now.”

          Paul looked a little stung, but didn’t retort for a second or two.

          “What do you care, anyway?”

           Gene stuffed about a third of the burger in his mouth and shrugged.

          “I don’t.”

          “Remember when he did the Marilyn Monroe screen prints? Everyone in my class was trying to make their own versions, and our teacher…”

          Paul kept trailing off about his art magnet high school. Gene was only half-paying attention. Something strange and almost possessive had curdled in the back of his throat. He took a swig of his cup of Coke, but the feeling persisted. Maybe it was the dissonance. Girls worth talking to didn’t dismiss fucking so casually. Paul wasn’t really a girl, sure—well, he was, but—

          “You’re not listening.”

          “I don’t know anything about art, Paul.”

          “You do. You draw. You used to show me your comics. Everybody knows something about art. Everybody knows what they like about it.” Paul exhaled. “Look, you’ve gotta be getting tired of my place. I’ll take you home, meet you at the club tonight?”

          “You really want to do that?”

          “Yeah, of course I wanna go to the club. I’m not losing my whole life because of one groupie.”

          “You’d be okay getting there by yourself?”

          “I—yeah, I’d be okay.”

          “Just take us back to your place.”

          “I’d be fine, really—”

          “No, take us both back.”

          “What, you think I can’t drive over there by myself?”

          “Maybe I like your company, Paul.”

          Paul reached for his soda cup. The edge of his mouth was starting to twitch up.

          “Yeah? Maybe I like yours.”

--

           By the time Paul pulled into the driveway, Gene was feeling a little sluggish. Two Big Macs, French fries, Coke, and most of Paul’s Sprite sat heavy on his stomach. He figured he’d take a nap on Paul’s couch or in his guest bedroom. Maybe play some records after, if that didn’t tear at Paul too much. Maybe get a quick dinner at a restaurant before heading to that nightclub—he almost thought he could talk Paul into it now.

           Paul seemed to have about the same idea. He kicked off the tissue-stuffed heels and headed to his bedroom, leaving the door open. Gene watched him hang up all his purchases before doubling back to the door.

           “I’m gonna sleep for a bit,” Paul called out. “You can turn the T.V. on if you wanna, I don’t care.”

           Gene nodded, and Paul shut the door, leaving him alone with his thoughts. He shucked off his own shoes and stretched out on the orange velour couch in the living room, feeling weirdly nostalgic. The last time he’d really been at Paul’s place for more than an afternoon, Paul’s place had been his parents’ place. They’d be at the kitchen table, talking about records, bumming their way through Beatles songs on their acoustic guitars, while Paul’s baby niece squalled in the background. He’d never admit it, but he envied the noise in that apartment. The coiled-up tension Paul assured him lay just beneath the surface was something he never saw.

           Paul had rarely gotten past the door of Gene’s house when his mother was around. His mother thought Paul was the Lampwick to his Pinocchio, eagerly leading Gene into a world of sin he’d already partaken in and a world of drugs he’d never touched. Paul’s ego had been sufficiently bruised by the assumption that he never tried to convince her otherwise. But Gene was sort of wondering now. If Paul had been a chick instead of a guy when they met, some mousey, bitchy friend-of-a-friend that played a little guitar and wanted to start a band, would his mother have liked him any better? Would Paul being a Jewish girl, if nothing else, have been enough to save him, her, whatever? Probably not.

           Would he have gone after Paul then?

           Probably.

           Anyway, it didn’t matter. He didn’t plan on going after Paul now. They’d get this reversed soon enough, and once the tour started back again, he’d be up to his neck in Playboy Playmates and groupies, all way easier on the eyes and the wallet and the brain than a girl with a gap tooth and a terminal case of nerves. Yeah. Yeah.

           He watched the cuckoo clock on the wall for a while, the one that Paul had gotten during their last Europe tour, waiting for the bird to pop out from the little hatch. But it, like everything else, seemed to be taking its time. Gene sighed, getting up from the couch and heading for the T.V.—what was on this time of day, anyway? Gunsmoke reruns? The only thing that stopped him from finding out was a knock on the door.

           He opened it without thinking, figuring it was the mailman delivering another of Paul’s occult books. Instead, he was met with Peter, wearing his version of casual—jeans, a vest, a pinstripe shirt, and a handful of necklaces—and a bewildered look.

           “You’re still over here?”

           “How’d you know I was over here?”

           “Ace told me. Where’s Paul?”

           Shit.

           “He’s not in right now.”

           Peter looked him up and down suspiciously.

           “Then are you gonna let me in?”

           Despite himself, Gene’s glance went to the bedroom door almost on automatic. If he could get rid of Peter fast enough, Paul wouldn’t wake up.

           “C’mon,” he said finally. Peter stalked in without hesitation. Gene had half-expected him to take a seat, but he didn’t, looming in the living room like he was certain he was being let out of the loop, without being told.

           “Look, maybe Ace can write off all sorts of shit, but I can’t.”

           “What do you mean?”

           “He won’t see anybody, he won’t talk to anybody. He gets into fucking voodoo. He has you call up Ace for his psychic. Says you’ll make sure Paul calls me back and he doesn’t. But everything’s cool, everything’s great—”

           “Pete—”

           “Something’s the matter. Paul ain’t that kind of a nut! Now, either he lost his mind or you’re pulling one on him, but either way, something’s screwed-up here. I’m not leaving until I talk to him.”

           “You’ll be waiting awhile.”

           “I’ve got time.”

           “Pete, really, he’s gonna be out until pretty late, don’t you think—”

           “No, I don’t. I’m staying. You want me out, call the fucking cops. Get a real nice headline going—"

           The bedroom door creaked open. Peter turned around immediately, Gene following suit. Paul was standing in the doorway, still in that floral dress from earlier that afternoon. Gene bit his lip.

           “It’s you again!” Paul seemed to cave in on himself with every word out of Peter’s mouth, stepping back. “You—I see how this is!”

           “Peter,” Gene started again, “Peter, listen, it isn’t—”

           “You fucking asshole!” Peter grabbed Gene’s arms, oblivious to or maybe just not caring about the weight and height Gene had on him. “How the fuck could you do that to him?!”

           “You’ve got it wrong, I’m not—listen, Pete, I—”

           “You’re fucking his girlfriend! Your best friend! Paulie’s fucking losing it and what do you do, you move in on his girl! Move in on his house! You motherfucking pig!” Pete advanced, or tried to. Gene twisted away his grip, grasping his wrists. Pete yanked himself free easily, stalking forward, forcing Gene back, closer and closer to the wall.

           “Pete, calm down.”

           “I won’t! This ain’t stupid band shit, Gene! This ain’t fucking solos! You got no right to do this!”

           “Stop it.” It was Paul. Gene stared, stunned, as Paul stepped out of the doorway and into the living room, face pale. Peter was watching, too, looking disgusted. “He wouldn’t do that to me.”

           “He wouldn’t?” Peter started to laugh. “Baby, he’s done it to every chick that got within three feet of him.”

           “Pete, please.” Paul was biting his lip, breaths hard. “Pete, I’ve gotta tell you, listen—”

           “Don’t,” Gene cut in, but Paul didn’t listen. God only knew why. Gene could tell Paul was scared as hell, even as he stepped between them, taking Peter’s arms. Even Peter had about an inch on him now. Surprisingly, he didn’t pull back. “Don’t do it, you don’t need to.”

           “I’ve got to. Peter, I—” He let go of one of Peter’s arms, pulling down the right shoulder of his dress to expose his tattoo. “I’m... damn it, Peter, you know who I am.”

           Peter’s face contorted.

           “What the hell are you doing? What’s that supposed to prove?”

           “You and me, w-we went on vacation together last year. To Hawaii.”

           “Bullshit, I went with Lydia! I’ve never gone anywhere with you in my life!”

           Paul was staring at Peter like he’d just been slapped, but he kept his grip on Peter’s arm like a lifeline. Gene didn’t know how to help him. Part of him wanted to just go straight between the two of them and scream at Peter to get out of there, never mind the fallout on both sides after. But he didn’t. Instead he just watched as Peter tossed away Paul’s hold like it was nothing at all, shoving him back, hard enough Paul stumbled backwards, hitting his leg on the coffee table. Peter turned to Gene.

           “You think you can do anybody any fucking way, don’t you? Fuck Paul, right? Fuck him and his crazy broad. That’s the way you are. Loyalty don’t even matter to you.”

           “Peter—”

           “Forget it. I’m out of here.”  Peter stalked to the door, shouting as he yanked it open. “Don’t think I won’t tell him what you’ve done! I don’t give a shit if it splits us up!”

[path-of-my-childhood]

New Reputation: Taylor Swift shares intel on TS7, fan theories, and her next era

By: Alex Suskind for Entertainment Weekly Date: May 9th 2019

Snakes begone. The 29-year-old superstar is back with a new album and a new outlook on life. We go inside the pop monarch's latest chapter.

THE PALM TREES ARRIVED IN FEBRUARY, seven in all, set against a pastel blue backdrop with superimposed stars. It appeared that a new Taylor Swift era was upon us — that the old happy-go-lucky Taylor was not, in fact, dead. Or did it? It was only an Instagram photo, just one more picture in an infinite content scroll. But it also came from a pop star known for prodigious hint-dropping, whose fans turn every piece of info into an online archaeological dig.

As expected, the summery post sent Swifties sifting through each detail with a fine-tooth comb. What did the trees symbolize? An overdue vacation? A recently purchased beach house? A secret palm-frond collection? Or maybe, as many surmised, it was new music. One Twitter user predicted that the number of stars in the background of the photo hinted at a single drop: “There’s about 60/61 [stars]️. There’s 61 days until April 26, FRIDAY, a SINGLE RELEASE day!” Another said it was the unofficial announcement of her next LP: “Okay so in this picture there are 4 palm trees on the left (4 country albums). There are two palm trees on the right (2 pop albums). There is one large palm tree in the middle. This represents her new album.” These may sound like ludicrous conspiracy theories — for the record, they were mostly correct — but they fit firmly within the Taylor Swift Musical Universe (it’s like the Marvel Cinematic Universe but with more guitars and fewer Stan Lee cameos).

“I posted that the day that I finished the seventh album,” says Swift about the photo. “I couldn’t expect [my fans] to know that. I figured they’d figure it out later, but a lot of their theories were actually correct. Those Easter eggs were just trying to establish that tone, which I foreshadowed ages ago in a Spotify vertical video for ‘Delicate’ by painting my nails those [pastel] colors.”

It’s now April, and the 29-year-old pop star is in a Los Angeles photo studio, giving her first sit-down magazine interview in three years. She wants to discuss the art of placing hints inside her work, as well as the upcoming record, which she recorded as soon as she finished the Reputation Tour. She’s also keen on detailing her own obsessions, talking up the TV shows, books, and songs that help shape her outlook on life.

Over the past 13 years, Swift has perfected the pop culture feedback loop: She shares updates about her life and drops hints about new music, which fans then gobble up and re-promote with their own theories, which Swift then re-shares on her Tumblr or incorporates into future clues. It’s like a T-Swift-built Escher staircase of personal memories and moments that tease what’s next. “I’ve trained them to be that way,” she says of her fans’ astute detective work. Swift is a pop culture fanatic herself (see: the jean jacket she’s wearing on the EW cover) and has an innate understanding of the lengths her audience will go to be a part of the original creation. “I love that they like the cryptic hint-dropping. Because as long as they like it, I’ll keep doing it. It’s fun. It feels mischievous and playful.”

Through this approach, Swift has designed the ultimate artistic scavenger hunt — and it’s easy to get swept up in its drama, even if you don’t listen to her music. Her moments aren’t always hidden, either. Sometimes Swift highlights aspects of her world just so fans feel like they’re on the journey with her. Like the time in March 2018 when pop singer Hayley Kiyoko was accused of shading Swift after mentioning her name during an interview. On Tumblr, Swift re-shared a fan’s post, adding commentary that defended Kiyoko, which immediately dispelled any conflicts between the two artists; Swift’s post subsequently received more than 29,000 notes. Four months later, she invited Kiyoko on stage during the Reputation Tour to sing her hit “Curious.” Kiyoko returned the favor when she had Swift join her that December at a benefit on behalf of the LGBTQ organization the Ally Coalition to perform “Delicate.” Fans of both artists were elated by the mutual support.

The feedback loop also extends outside of music. In October 2018, Swift broke her silence about politics by publicly endorsing two candidates for office in her adopted state of Tennessee, while encouraging her followers to register to vote. She kept up the civic momentum through Election Day when she asked fans to post selfies after voting; Swift then eagerly re-promoted her favorites on Instagram stories.

This practice of sharing and re-sharing and sharing again is why listeners consider Swift one of the world’s most accessible pop stars, someone willing to not only interact with her audience but invite them to secret listening sessions, or make the occasional surprise visit to their wedding or prom. It’s a symbiotic relationship, one that, as Swift tells EW, helped her dig out of the darker era of reputation. “It’s definitely the fans that made that tonal shift in the way I was feeling,” she says. “Songwriters need to communicate, and part of communicating correctly is when you put out a message that is understood the way you meant it. reputation was interesting because I’d never before had an album that wasn’t fully understood until it was seen live. When it first came out everyone thought it was just going to be angry; upon listening to the whole thing they realized it’s actually about love and friendship, and finding out what your priorities are.”

Then, during the Reputation Tour, she had an epiphany: that despite the caricature that she thought had been created of her, there were many people who saw what others had simply refused to. “I would look out into the audience and I’d see these amazing, thoughtful, caring, wonderful, empathetic people,” she says. “So often with our takedown culture, talking s— about a celebrity is basically the same as talking s— about the new iPhone. So when I go and I meet fans, I see that they actually see me as a flesh-and-blood human being. That — as contrived as it may sound — changed [me] completely, assigning humanity to my life.”

At tour’s end, she channeled that positive energy into the studio, recording the new album in just under three months. But the fast pace won’t mean a short LP. Swift confirmed that her seventh record (she hasn’t announced a title yet; the working nickname among fans is TS7) will include more songs than any of her previous releases. “I try not to go into making an album with any expectation,” she says. “I started to write so much that I knew immediately it would probably be bigger.”

The project will also feature a mix of old and new collaborators (on the candy-coated lead single “ME!” Swift brought in Panic! At the Disco frontman Brendon Urie and coproducer Joel Little, both of whom she had never worked with), but she is unsurprisingly coy about doling out much more information, as if doing so would break the carefully honed T-Swiftian feedback loop. “There’s a lot of a lot on this album,” she says. “I’m trying to convey an emotional spectrum. I definitely don’t wanna have too much of one thing…. You get some joyful songs and you get the bops, as they say.” There’s also, she adds, some “really, really, really, really sad songs,” but “not enough to where you need to worry about me.”

She gives us one more clue: The true distinction between TS7 and reputation is in the delivery. “This time around I feel more comfortable being brave enough to be vulnerable, because my fans are brave enough to be vulnerable with me. Once people delve into the album, it’ll become pretty clear that that’s more of the fingerprint of this — that it’s much more of a singer-songwriter, personal journey than the last one.”

The past month has seen a deluge of Swift activity, from the release of the new single to dropping more hints in interviews about the record and its title, which is apparently hidden somewhere inside the “ME!” music video (current fan guesses include Kaleidoscope and Daisy). But if the Easter eggs from the pop star seem like a business-as-usual routine, she says this album does indeed mark a new era of her life, where she’s been better able to prioritize what’s important to her.

“Our priorities can get messed up existing in a society that puts a currency on curating the way people see your life,” she says. “Social media has given people a way to express their art. I use it to connect with fans. But on the downside you feel like there are 3 trillion new invisible hoops that you have to jump through, and you feel like you’ll never be able to jump through them all correctly. I — along with a lot of my friends and fans — am trying to figure out how to navigate living my life and not just curating what I want people to think living my life is. I’m not always able to maintain a balance, and I think that’s important for everyone to know about. We’re always learning, and that’s something that I also had to learn — that I’ve got to be brave enough to learn. Learning in public is so humiliating sometimes… Do I feel more balanced in my life than I ever have before? Um, probably yeah. But is that permanent? No. And I think being okay with that has put me in a bit of a better position.” Strong words to live by, to quote, to re-share, to tweet back to her, and see if she’ll respond.

You can read the original article HERE.

[white-kween]

Birthday Girl

Summary: Today’s your birthday and your boyfriend Brian wants to make it a special one. The two of you spend the whole day together, presents being given to you left and right. Brian hopes you’ll like one in particular though.

A/N: this is my first fic I’ve ever written and posted on the internet. This is mostly just fluff with a couple sexual innuendos? Constructive critisism welcomed as well!! Anyways hope you guys enjoy:)

Warnings: Couple cuss words and a few sexual comments. Kinda long ?¿

Fem!Reader X 70’s!Brian May

gif not mine

“Good morning, birthday girl” You stirred to your boyfriend, Brian, peppering kisses all over your face.

“It certainly is a good morning isn’t it,” you giggled at the man. God, did he love to hear your giggle. Even though you guys had only been dating for a couple months, he know that you were the one and that he absolutely loves you. Neither one of you has said “I love you”, but it was clear that what the two of you had, was special.

“How’s it feel to be one year older?” Brian asked you.

“No different honestly. Feel the same,“ You hummed caressing his hand that laid on top of you. He looked so handsome laying next to you. You could tell he had just woken up as well since his curly hair was a mess. It was the best part of your day, waking up next to him when you spent the night together.

“Is that so?”he smiled. “I have a lot in store for you today, so why don’t you take a shower and I’ll make breakfast, yeah?” He started getting out of the bed which made you frown slightly since you lost his warmth.

“Sounds great,” you said. He kissed your forehead and then left his room to start cooking. After a couple minutes of still laying in bed, you finally decided to get up and take a warm shower that was much needed.

Making your way down stairs the smell coming from the kitchen became more apparent and it smelt delightful. You were flooded with the smell of cinnamon, coffee, and oatmeal. You looked around and saw an assortment of strawberries, blackberries and apples laid out as well on the table. All your favorite fruits. You saw Brian pouring a cup of coffee and handing it to you.

“Right on time darling” he smiled to you, pulling out your chair for you to sit, which you of course did. Seeing you with damp hair from your shower and an over sized t shirt and sweatpants had him feeling some type of way. His thoughts were cut short when he heard your voice.

“Wow, Bri. You really did out do yourself. Thank you,” your heart swelled at what was before you. The man that you adored dearly, was spoiling you like a queen.

“Well of course darling. It’s your birthday after all,” he said kissing your cheek and taking a seat next to you “I’ve planned out the whole entire day to be a special one.”

“Mmm, so what’s in store?” You asked while taking a bite out of your breakfast.

“It’s a surprise,” he wiggled his eyebrows. “I can say though you’ll want to dress warm,” that last part just confused you. He knew you weren’t a fan of being in cold weather.

“Brian May are you going to have me stand out in the cold on my birthday?!”You said a little over dramatic.

“Yes. But it won’t be too cold, I promise Y/N” he said while pinching your cheeks, which made you just laugh along with him. His touch made you feel on cloud nine. You loved it when he kissed you, held your hand, or just laid his head on your shoulder. He was like a drug and you couldn’t get enough of him.

After breakfast, you went back to your own apartment to change and get ready for your day with Brian. He dropped you off and told you he’d be back to pick you up at 1 p.m. so he could set some things up. Knowing that made you feel giddy inside and made you wonder what his surprise was for you. Since you had a few hours to get ready, you put in a little more effort in your appearance today. After all, it was a special day.

You decided to put on a pair of loose fitting jeans, along with a black long sleeve turtle neck. Looking at yourself in the mirror, you felt like something was missing. It finally hit you that you what you needed was a red toned lip stick. As soon as you finished getting ready, your heard a knock on your door. Looking at the clock you smiled to yourself because he was right on time.

“Coming!” You called making your way to the front door. “Hi, love!”you greeted your boyfriend. To say he looked amazing was an understatement. He looked perfect. He was dressed in black trousers, a loose fitting white button up, and of course clogs. He noticed you were staring at him, which caused a light blush to rise on his cheeks.

“H-hello, love.” He looked you up and down. You looked amazing. He had a hard time trying to refrain himself from kissing and pouring out all his feelings right then and there. “Ready to go?” You nodded and slipped on a pair of ankle high boots and grabbed a jacket, just in case.

You two walked hand in hand to Brian’s car and started your little adventure. Your thoughts were interrupted by Brian’s voice.

“You look beautiful by the way,” he turned to look at you and then back to the road.

“T-Thank you, Bri,” You choked out. He’s complimented you thousands of times and every time you would go tomato red and forget how to even speak. You were in deep for this man. He had your heart.

After a few more minutes of driving, you finally pulled up to what you assumed was Brian’s destination. You exited the car and looked around at the sight before you. It was a paint studio. This made you bubble in excitement since you’ve been wanting to take paint lessons for ages now.

Brian was watching your expression on how you would react to this. He knew how bad you wanted to learn to paint, but he just wanted to be sure you wanted to do this. When you turned to him with a bright smile on your face, he knew he did a good job.

“Excited?” He asked, taking your hand and leading you to the entrance.

“Understatement of the century. I’m ecstatic!” You said, squeezing his arm. He smiled even wider hearing you say that.

The two of you checked in to the painting class and took a seat behind two white painting canvases. You were practically jumping up and down in your seat from giddiness. You calmed down once Brian placed his hand on your knee.

“Hello class! So happy for you all to join us today!” The painting teacher grabbed everyone’s attention. She had such a warm aura and soft tone. “Today we will be painting the night sky,” hearing this made you smirk and turn to Brian. He looked at you and chuckled.

“I promise I had no idea,” he leaned over and whispered to you.

The class was a step by step process which you listened to intently, wanting to make your own painting perfect. However, Brian struggled with paying attention on the teacher and instead focused on you. He watched as you carefully painted the canvas and listened to the teacher. He noticed the creases in your forehead that appeared from concentration, and the little grumbles you made when something didn’t go your way. He had to be reminded by you a couple times to focus on his own painting.

Two hours later, you and Brian were walking out with your ‘masterpieces’. It was evident that you two had no idea what the hell you were doing, but it was fun nonetheless. Both of you climbed back into his car and drove off to the next destination.

“Thank you, Bri. I had a lot of fun.” You leaned over and kissed the side of his head. More like the side of his mop of curls.

“Good I’m glad,” he said while entangling your hand with his. “Next destination now love is lunch. I can hear your bloody stomach gurgling.” he chuckled out to you. Gosh his was the most beautiful thing you’ve ever heard, along with his voice of course.

“Oh shut it, May!” You laughed with him. He pulled up to your favorite cafe. It was small, but the food was delicious and it was a hit with the public. The two of you took your time at lunch and talked about anything and everything. Conversation ranged from his studies to the meaning behind plant names. Odd I know, but that’s what made you and Brian so perfect for each other. The fact that you guys can just talk, with out fear of what the other might think.

Before you two left, Brian had to go to the bathroom. And when he was walking back, he flashed you the toothy grin that he always does, but this time it was different. It was like a wave of emotions over took you and you realized how perfect he was. You’ve always known how impeccable he was, but in that moment, with his curly hair, clogs, and his everything you realized something. You realized that you were in love with Brian Harold May. Before you could go deeper into your feelings of love for your boyfriend, you were interrupted by a hand waving in front of your face.

“Love did you hear a single word I said ?” He asked.

“I.. uh.. sorry Bri. What did say?” You pretty much said in a whisper.

“I asked if you were ready,”

“Oh yeah...” you nodded and stood up “lets go,” you grinned to him and started walking, leading the way for him to follow.

While buckling up, Brian had told you that this drive was gonna be longer. Around an hour or so.

On the drive you noticed how the masses of people and towns was becoming a little sparse, and instead was replaced with on going fields.

“Bri, please tell me you’re not taking me to the middle of nowhere to kill me...” you said half jokingly. Hearing you say this made Brian crack into a fit laughter.

“I would never, Y/L!” He told you still grinning.

“I don’t know, Bri... you could be some mad scientist,”

“Astrophysicist,” he corrected.

“Right. Some mad astrophysicist,” you said, smirking. Of course he would correct you.

Eventually he pulled up to a trail, that led to who knows where.

“Oh my god,” you whispered. That caught Brian’s attention.

“What? Is something wrong?” He asked with a tone of concern.

“YOU REALLY ARE GONNA KILL ME!” You bellowed.

“Y/N, I swear on my life and Queen’s, that I’m not going to kill you!” It’s like you did a whole 180 in your attitude because your turned to him and said “I know,” and kissed him. Both of you go out of the car and locked the doors.

The trail Brian was leading you down was roughly a mile long, which made you regret wearing your boots. The scenery was pretty though, and the view of Brian’s behind was even better...

“Y/N, I can feel you starring at my ass,” Brian said coyly.

“Can’t help it love, you’re just so handsome,” you told him, and giving him a quick peck on his cheek. You doing that made him blush even more than before. “So, where are you leading me to Mr. May?”

“You’ll see love. We’re almost there.” You could tell that he was becoming a little nervous. The reason behind why he was nervous, you had no idea, but you decided not to push it. You noticed that the sun was starting to set, and that it was becoming a little cooler. You cursed yourself for not bringing a warmer jacket with you for tonight.

“We’re here,” Brian said. You looked at the site before you. There was a blanket laid out on the field with a little picnic basket on top. Surrounding it was a few candles, along with a vase filled with your favorite flowers. And of course laying next to everything was his guitar.

“Brian,” you gasped. Tears that you didn’t know you had, started to flow down your cheeks.

“Do you like it?” Brian asked quietly.

“Oh Brian... I love it!” You hugged him tightly. He hugged you back just as tight. Neither of you wanted to let go of each other, so you just stayed there for a moment, enjoying each other’s embrace. Eventually you guys pulled back and walked to the blanket and sat down.

“I thought that we could watch the sun set and enjoy the night sky away from all the chaos in the city,” Brian told you, with a shy smile on his face.

“Sounds perfect, Bri” you smiled back, cupping his face in your hand. “I might have a hard time not starring at you though,” you winked at him. He just rolled his eyes and pulled you to where you were laying between his legs and against his chest. The two of you watched the remainder of the sun disappear and the night sky envelop everything around you. You felt like you could lay on Brian forever, that is until he moved to light the candles.

“Setting the mood, lover boy?” You asked playfully. He shook his head and smiled at your comment.

“I guess I am,” is all he said.

“Good,” you laid down on your back “I’ve always wanted to do it outside,” that made him choke. He had no reply to that at all. He was absolutely baffled at what you said. He looked over at you and saw that you were shivering so he dug into the basket and handed you a blanket.

“Thank you Bri,” you smiled at him, with your teeth chattering. You looked back up to the sky and heard Brian sit down next to you, grabbing his guitar. You smiled when you heard him play a riff and softly singing. You looked at him and it was like you forgot to breath. He looked so beautiful under the night sky, playing his guitar perfectly, along with his amazing voice. You were about to tell him you loved him but he spoke up before you did.

“I have a few presents for you,” he said as he stopped the sound of his guitar.

“Bri you didn’t have to do that. Today already has been enough,” you said while sitting up. You knew he didn’t have a load of cash to spend on you, so you always felt bad when he did pay.

“Y/L, stop. It’s your birthday,” he pulled out a bag out of the basked and handed it to you.

“Well, aren’t you going to open it?” He was so fidgety from the suspense of whether or not you were going to like his gift. You plucked out the tissue paper one by one just to tease him. In the bag was a black box and an envelope. Instinctively, you chose the envelope first, which made Brian tense up a bit. He was incredibly nervous now. You opened up the envelope carefully and pulled out the letter that was inside. You eyed Brian for a second before turning back to the letter to read it. Immediately, you started smiling because it was so sweet what Brian had wrote. He talked about all the little things he adored about you, and some of his favorite memories the two of you shared. He talked about how in the short time of being together, how you two have grown so much. All of this was making you cry like a sprinkler. It wasn’t til you read the end when your breath got caught in your throat. You read what he had written over and over again. ‘I love you, Y/N Y/L/N’

“Y/L...” Brian spoke up. His heart was about to beat out of his chest. Your eyes looked at his, to see if there was any hints of untruthfulness.

“Do you mean this, Bri?” You asked him in a hushed tone.

“I do...” he nodded, still staring into your eyes.

“Every single word. I love you,” After he said it out loud it was like a weight was lifted off of both your shoulders and you could both breathe again. Without warning, you lunged forward and connected your’s and Brian’s lips together. The kiss was soft and passionate. You didn’t even have to say it back, the kiss was enough for Brian to know how you felt. You pulled back to catch your breath.

“I love you too,” You said, heaving a bit. Brian kissed you again, which you melted into. After a few moments Brian pulled back and that made you groan because you never wanted the moment to end.

“Open the rest of your gift, love” you nodded and reached for the box inside the bag. You opened it slowly and found a beautiful silver necklace with a coin shaped pendant hanging off of it. Engraved in it was the shape of your zodiac sign constellation. You grinned at the necklace, then at Brian. He’s such a dork.

“It’s beautiful. Thank you, Brian.” You leaned over and pecked him in the lips. “Mind putting it on me?” Your turned around and moved your hair to the side to allow him to clip the necklace on easier. You could tell that he was struggling a bit since it was so dark, but he eventually managed.

You both laid down on your backs and looked up at the sky letting the sound of the night and your own breathing being the only thing heard. Until you spoke up.

“I don’t think I want this night to ever end,” you looked at Brian with a little smile on your face.

“Nights not over yet, love” he winked at you. You grinned at his comment. You knew exactly what that meant.

“Does that mean I have one more present in store for me?” You asked him, batting your eyelashes with an innocent look on your face.

“Love don’t start something you can’t finish,”

“You know I always finish with you Bri,” you said smugly. Your comment caused him to chuckle. God you loved that man.

[summerspn]

Batwoman

2019 series > Ep 1-3

*sigh*

Okay here goes...I’m going to break it down for you:

The trailers & ads:

I was skeptical about watching this show as all the trailers for it were terrible.

As a woman I can honestly say each and every trailer made me cringe & go ‘stop!’. They were SO bad.

But, that’s not the actors’ fault. They’re given lines they have to deliver on & Ruby Rose seemed to deliver on those decently enough I suppose.

In the trailers, my biggest issue was the terrible dialogue & poor makeup/wardrobe.

The campy style Batwoman costume & the sloppy bat tattoos...ugh! Why would anyone think that would be appealing?!

Now, onto the show...

There is one & ONLY one reason I watched this show...my mom! I figured I had to give it a shot. But it was not because my mom like it. She in fact, hated it!

My mom, who loves everything from medical & criminal dramas, to shows about witchcraft & medieval times. She somehow even loves campy movies like Dark Shadows. She’s a huge fan of Wonder Woman (comics, tv show & recent movie). She loved the Captain Marvel movie. She is a comic fan and loved Batman & Batwoman growing up.

Yet, she hates this show!

After seeing videos & online posts ALL saying it’s because non fans hate the show because they’re bigots, that’s not true.

The show is awful - so I suppose the trailers were accurate.

My mother could care less what people do for their own pleasure- and like she taught us, “as long as no one’s being hurt & it’s consensual, who cares?”

So right now, just to paint you a picture, neither her nor I care about the lesbian storyline in Batwoman. I don’t care if she’s gay straight, bi, attracted to pumpkins etc. Have at it.

The reason I chose to watch this show is because my mother loves fun well written entertainment & sometimes just silly fluff to get her mind off reality. And as my best friend we have that in common. Our viewing tastes are very similar. So when my mom says something was terrible, it piques my interest (much more than those awful trailers).

The actors:

Most of the actors aren’t bad. Since Dougray Scott is in this I take it as a comparison amongst the others. If you don’t know who he is ...he was in Ever After, Desperate Housewives, Fear the Walking Dead, Hemlock Grove and a thousand other projects. He’s a good actor. However, in Batwoman he has a few mistakes with his accent & delivery of a few lines (much fewer mistakes than the rest of the cast).

But all the actors have mis-steps with their lines & delivery of the lines. Whose job is it to stop them & try again until it’s good? The director

Some actors aren’t as strong as others but after watching the show, I think the strongest actors are: Dougray Scott, Nicole Kang, & Rachel Skarsten. They seem to work with what they’ve got. Trying their best. But the dialogue!

There was a line about Kate Kane having mixed feelings for her sister & didn’t want her hurt because “Duh, feelings”. .... 🙄...she’s a medical student?? The writers gave the actor THAT to work with? Okay...um, they couldn’t have done a second draft and tweaked it? You didn’t find it needed a little more work? Like wrote this instead “it’s only natural to be conflicted...” which makes her sound intelligent. Instead, “Duh, feelings”?!

Unfortunately we come down to Ruby Rose. She’s not a good actress. She seemed to be more talented in the trailers than the actual show but that was because she showed something I like to call emotion.

What happened? Every single line RR delivers has zero affect. Even when she’s literally smiling there is no emotion in her eyes....what only makes her look psychotic. And she moves her eyebrows up & down sooooo much. It’s distracting.

However, she (like the other actors) does seem to be trying. With that said, if you can’t be pulled into the character or the actors’ take on them then it suspends disbelief.

I have nothing against Ruby Rose but knowing she was a model gives context. They work with their eyebrows a lot & any acting they do is for about 20 seconds of a commercial. It’s clear that RR is tackling the tv show like she would a modeling job. Only now she has a s****y wardrobe.

However, she can’t act. She is monotonous & sounds robotic.

I do think though that’s made worse by the director probably not pushing to do enough takes. Sometimes directors instruct actors to act a certain way which makes them sound worse.

Ie) Hayden Christensen acted beautifully in an old tv show where he played a victim of molestation. In Star Wars a Phantom Menace he was apparently told to act more annoyed then angry so voila he came across as a brat...

So I do wonder what influence the director had here.

The wardrobe/makeup:

Papa Kane, Leaders of the Crows, my man Dougray...yes he still looks good in his suits but he’s always shown wearing the same suit. Wardrobe actually helps tell a story especially in a show like this. But it’s like the budget is too small or the director forgot about anyone other than Kate & Beth.

Morning scenes, have him with a little extra stubble, some make up to look like he has dark circles under his eyes. Ruffle his hair. Have him sitting in a hideous vintage t-shirt while they have breakfast. Kate could see how awful he looks and ask “did you get any sleep?” Then they could talk about how worried he is for the city, Kate, or even thinking about Beth! Kate could see the shirt & go “didn’t I get you that?” And he says “yeah for my birthday” and she says “that was ten years ago”.Boom! Shows he loves his daughter & a tiny bonding moment. ...but this never happened.

Luke Fox. Somehow they took an attractive actor and made him look about 20 years older just by wearing glasses that belong to Angela from Who’s the Boss!

Give Luke some 2019 glasses that sit properly on his nose! And the same for the rest of his clothes. They don’t fit right. The show is trying to nerd him up but you can make people awkward, nerdy , or quirky without downplaying their looks. Have Fox wear jeans with his vests, or a fun t-shirt with a suit jacket etc.

Kate Kane. She has the worst wardrobe in the show! Though Batwoman’s suit looks tacky & campy...

Give Kate nicer clothes! They do not need to be expensive but they do need to give her a personality.

1) Plaid...why? Lesbians wearing plaid is a stereotype so WHY would this show advertising itself as modern & breaking the barriers have their main character wearing something so cliche? Makes zero sense. However, since plaid (aka tartan) is making a comeback in fashion they could have used it (if they really had to) in another piece of clothing. A scarf, gloves, shoes? (I actually have a pair of red plaid boots which are durable and adorable). Throwing on a plaid shirt is just lazy.

2) Her hair. Okay so if they’re going for the short-during-military-training look I get it but Ruby Rose has the same hairstyle in everything. I wish she’d just either grow it out or chop it all off. They could have had a scene where she’s fiddling with it in the mirror like she’s self conscious about the new do...showing human insecurities.

3) The leather jacket. Sigh... okay this is my personal opinion but I think the black leather jacket in shows is used too much. It immediately signals strength & a tough exterior right? Well literally everyone knows this. It’s not subtle. I mean I love how it was used on Supernatural where the coat had a history but it was tied into a backstory and eventually was used less and less. But the leather coat was used more in early seasons (which was as far as 15 yrs ago). Other shows always have the ‘bad boy’ wear the jacket. It’s so boring. I’d rather if Kate strolled you wearing a fun typographic shirt or a basic t-shirt and have an expensive belt because she has a thing for belts (subtly nodding to one Batwoman has to use).

There were many choices other than a basic plaid top and black leather jacket. Wardrobe decisions that could give the character/actor subtle layers or tools to work with. But that too was done lazily.

Set design:

Dark & gloomy? ✅

Isolated & abandoned feeling? ✅

Appropriate to the corresponding event... 🙈 not so much.

Ie) the bridge where the family’s car fell off. Whether it’s done with cgi or finding the right location, the bridge in question was generic. Now if the bridge was higher up and/or there were super super wild & crazy rapids maybe, just maybe we’d believe Batman thought Beth was a goner. But it was actual fairly tame so it made Batman look like he just saw the car hanging and go “hey my shift ended an hour ago” and walk off.

And,

The “secret” entrance to the bat cave is in Wayne enterprises? Wouldn’t that be hard to get to? I can picture Bruce hanging around in the garage waiting to go in...he starts over to the door, someone comes, he stops...ya know because everyone knows him...

It’s just weird. There were so many other options.

Special effects:

Some have been pretty bad so far. This is a CW trait. I don’t know if they separate the budget for the directors or not. Is it all one lump number or are they told ‘this is for the production & this is for the special effects?’. I wonder because other CW shows seem to have tiny budgets allocated to the effects. In any case, a show about super villains & heroes needs bigger budgets so it looks more believeable.

The writing:

The writing is just bad. Writing lines like “duh sisters” for a character who is supposed to be educated & intelligent seems ridiculous.

Question - if Bruce Wayne has family why didn’t he stay with them when his parents died? Or they with him? Is this a plot hole from the comics or just this show?

Unrealistic. Yes it’s a superhero story but we care less if the person has all their skills & abilities immediately.

My bff and I love superhero shows but we both had the same problems here as with Supergirl. She just had her powers & didn’t really struggle with them. I watched 2 episodes & was bored already.

Batwoman was so boring but I wanted to see if it got better. It hasn’t.

This show needed to spend episode 1 where she’s discovering how bad Gotham was without Batman & where he went. Is he doing a really long pub crawl? Saving people in another country/city? Dead? Kate shows zero concern for her missing cousin & for some reason, hates him.

Kate immediately knowing how to use the bat equipment with zero practices...how at the beginning she’s swimming in ice water for no reason and doesn’t get hypothermia?? That’s all very unbelievable.

Kate is written as Mary Sue. She knows all & has the most skills in the world! Why??? Okay so she was in the military so yeah give her a backstory of taking taekwondo classes or something but for her to know how to do Luke Fox’s job better than he does? Or where the cameras are at Wayne Enterprises...more than the security team?? And to know what the computer password is, okay... basically she has to be great at everything & the other characters have to be written dumb in order for Kate to be appealing. Why?

Bashing Batman...in a show based in the bat-universe. Terrible move. Kate doing this repeatedly makes us think she’s a villain. Not a hero.

Bashing everyone with male genitalia...makes Kate look like a pr*ck. You can hate certain men you’ve known but to constantly reference women as being superior to men...

1) negates equal rights. You can’t be equals if you act/think/say you’re superior.

2) any boys watching this show is going to feel like something is wrong with them.

3) it’s sexist.

Just like many of us women grew up hearing repeatedly that men were better at this & that...

4) male bashing IS spreading hate. STOP.

That is actually why (more than anything) I didn’t want to watch in the first place because of how the trailers made it sound like they were bashing a whole gender.

Too much too soon. Revealing Alice is Beth in the first episode? Why? Drag it out an episode or 2. Each episode is both boring and yet they try to cram everything into a single episode it’s bizarre.

Ridiculous scenarios. Like Batman would leave a child to drown. And why didn’t Beth/Alice just go home or contact the police...or anyone...when she got out of the water all those years ago? Why does Kate keep letting her sister go when the woman is a multi-murderer?!

Yes, Kate is still hung up on her ex but it was years ago & she was the one dumped. And Sophie is married so Kate is coming off like a stalker 👀

All of it makes Kate look unsympathetic & unlikeable. The show isn’t funny except when we hear bad dialogue. It’s trying to be overly dramatic like a soap opera but it still doesn’t work. I think that’s due to the writing & the directing.

Now don’t get me wrong, even with RR’s lack of acting skills there are ways of making it work...that weren’t done.

Keanu’s Reeves isn’t the most skillful actor but he tries. He’s good at certain things & sticks to it. He knows where his skills are. Yes he’s improved but he’ll never be able to pull off an intense dramatic role. So he sticks to what he’s good at. He’s also a good person & tries to talk openly & intelligently about things so he has people’s respect IRL.

Ruby Rose has been touchy & volatile about people criticizing Batwoman. That made me lose what little respect I had for her.

Awhile back I had tried watching this design show (yes I like those too) Love it Or List It Vancouver. The show was fine but the designer Jillian was being critiqued left right & Center on social media after the pilot episode for sounding like a child. She used phrases such as; “totally”,”for sure” , and used the word ‘like’ a thousand times... she really did sound like a valley girl. However, about 5 episodes later that was gone. She was speaking more eloquently and more grown up - which in turn made people like her more. She & the show worked to help improve her speech patterns so it wouldn’t be distracting. And the show has been around for years now.

My point? RR could have taken the criticism & worked with it. I get she’s probably upset as she worked hard but we all go through it. We all have a project of some kind at work that falls flat. We take the criticism & try to improve. RR could take acting lessons or at the very least, practice in the mirror.

Most of the other issues I’ve mentioned are a result of the awful writing, poor direction & likely some interference from the network.

What this show should never have done was act superior. That’s being a douche. Anytime I see or hear someone being arrogant like that I just roll my eyes and walk away (or in this case, turn the channel).

If anyone working for the CW and/or Batwoman reads this I hope you’ll take some pointers.

I like myself too much though to subject myself to anymore episodes though. I’m done. ✌️

[em-be-lievable]

Hello!! Whereith thou get thee cool punked clothing? Ith would like to dress as cool as thou

Y’all gotta stop enabling me with my special interests- I WILL write you novels.

This is gonna be a whole thing, so sit your butt down and prepare to listen to me yell for ten years. 

This question is literally different depending on what I’m wearing- but my clothes fall into three schools of fashion which I’ll refer to ‘Statement makers’ ‘Essentials’ and ‘Accents.’ 

THE STATEMENT MAKERS: 

These are the pieces that make strangers want to start arguments that they can’t win on the streets with me XD I have 4 in total: Though each one is a work in process. “Where does get one of these fine pieces?” You may be asking yourself? “Surely there is a hot topic-esque store that must provide such items!” The long and short is no, there isn’t. You gotta make these yourself.

So how you do that?

Step one: Start with a base.I like to keep these relatively cheap bc A: I’m broke, and B: This way I can put a little more money into ‘accents’ (which I’ll explain more about later) First you need that base- a good garment that will hold up to your daily life and tolerate the abuse you’re about to put it through. What I do is go to my local thrift store, or good will (not salvation army. F*ck the salvation army) and get one second hand. The vest and the leather jacket above ran me a total of 20$ instead of the 100$ you’d waste if you bought it from Big Business (and also f*ck them too for killing the environment and the economy) Be heckin’ thrifty and crafty with it- you’re essentially purchasing your canvas so don’t be afraid to scrounge. 

Step two: Gather your men.And by men, I mean the sh!t you’re gonna adhere to this beast. A good place for pins/patches? Etsy. Theres literally millions of options you can get from small businesses and independent artists all over the world and they’re usually pretty cheap: Ranging anywhere from 1$ (plus shipping) to 15$ for big back pieces. Literally every single patch that wasn’t gifted or I didn’t make was purchased via etsy. Which brings me to my second option for pins and patches: Make them. You can get a button maker if you’re feeling frisky- or just go to a f*ck ton of rallies and accommodate them from there. Patches can easily be made with a scrap of black fabric and some white fabric paint. At my local WalMart a yard of plain black cotton fabric will run you about 3$ and will get you 10-20 patches depending on the size. The paint will run you about 1.50$ and an afternoon of your time just grinding away at it. 

And if you’re Extra Edgy™ like me- you’re gonna need some heckin SPIKES. Spikes are surprisingly easy to come by and add to your pieces- I get the little screw on ones: on Etsy it’ll run you about 10$ for 100 of them- or if you’re okay with it, use amazon and get 500 for 8$ (As much as I’m not a fan of big business, I can understand the need to go with the cheapest option.) 

Step three: Just literally throw that sh!t together.This is the fun part: Making it your own. This way no one has the same sh!t as you and you can wear your pride on your sleeve, back, chest ect-Small words of wisdom: -Iron on patches are weak. They’re not going to stay on for long. Just surrender to the fact you’re going to have to sew that sh!t on now and save yourself the heartache. -If you get/make flimsy fabric patches, you’re gonna need interfacing. You can also buy this at walmart for around 4$ a yard and it’ll save you so much goddamn trouble. -There is no way in the freshest of hells you’re going to be able to sew on a patch to a leather jacket. Just scrap that notion now- it’s not going to happen. So what can you do? Aleene’s super fabric glue. Literally the jaws of life aren’t gonna be enough to rip that patch off your jacket if you use it. Idk who Aleene sold her soul to to get such sticky sh!t but I stan her for it forever. -Don’t be afraid to paint directly onto your items. It’s so much f*cking fun. Just do it.-If you’re gonna make this a whole hobby/lifestyle you might want to consider investing in a sewing machine. You’ll never know true agony until you spend days hand sewing on a back piece stitch-by-stitch only to realize it’s crooked when it’s done. At least if you use a machine it’ll be 5-10 minutes of work lost as apposed to literal hours. 

THE ACCENTS: 

This is where you’re gonna throw the money you saved by thrifting your statements. These are the splurges, that one shirt with the funny logo you have saved in your bookmark bars, that impulse buy at the mall. The pricier things that you’re just not gonna be able to make yourself and would rather ask for for your birthday/christmas/whenever you’d be receiving presents.

So, as for MY guilty pleasure spots: 

WildBlackSheep on Etsy. What can I say? I love an independent bish. And their shirts are just so witty and funny, I love them to death and back. Not to mention the customer service is UNREAL. 10/10 would recommend to a friend.

WickedClothes.com. I’m just a dead ringer for combining that 80′s cartoon style with my morbid sense of humor. The ‘Let’s Have A Seance’ ringer tee is one of my favorite shirts. 

JohnnyCupcakes. Literally theres like one design, but it’s a design I love. If the cupcake with crossbones doesn’t convey who I am as a person, idk what does.

BlackCraftCult.com. Now, I’m not a satanist- but I’m extremely supportive of the ideals that neosatanism has. (Which is essentially just believing in yourself and not being an assh*le) Plus, satanist or not, the designs are dope. 

angryyoungandpoor.com. So, you want a particular piece of ‘punk’ fashion that can only be bought, but you don’t want to pay full price for it. This is your stop. It’s discount classic punk fair to find all your favorite brands at not full prices, plus more. The website can be like a goddamn maze but I’m sure every punk will find something they like there.

And theres so much more, but I’ll be here all day just getting down EVERYWHERE I buy clothes XD These are just my favorite brands, and the ones I frequent most to treat myself. 

THE ESSENTIALS: 

Now for last, but not least- literally the staples. The basics. The things every person who ever wears clothes ever needs. The foundation to lay all your accessories and statements upon to get a good cohesive look on you and have you feeling completely punkified. Find these literally anywhere that works best for you: Goodwill, Target, Walmart, whatever. It doesn’t matter as long as you have these staples to build upon your punky exterior. 

The shopping list:

-Black pants. Everyone and their mother needs just one good pair of plain black pants. They just go well with literally anything and are a dope addition to an edgy exterior. If you’ve got the funds and the time, I’d highly recommend finding one pair that fits you well and buying two of them- Keep one as normal but then take a couple of serrated knives and sandpaper to the other and give yourself some distressed pants. (Afterall, why on Gaia’s green earth would I buy PRE RIPPED JEANS when I’m the proud purveyor of my own destruction?)

Jeans.Same as the first for better or worse: You need a nice pair of jeans. I’d recommend doing the same shtick with the black pants and getting one pair to keep and one pair to rip up.

Plain black t-shirt.Literally get your butt to a dollar tree and get yourself a plain black t-shirt or two. You have no idea how useful it is to pair with your clothes. Just do it.

Plain white t-shirt.See above.

Boots.Combat boots just make the outfit. You may want to invest in a nice long-wear pair since shoes can be kinda expensive and you want a lot of milage for your buck. I’m a big fan of classic Docs bc they last FOREVER and are just good shoes. And if you’re not big on animal made items good news: They come in Vegan now. 

Converse.They’re just good shoes what can I say? It’s classic, it’s comfortable, it’s always been around and it’ll always be around. You can get them in all kinds of styles and colors- like why do I even need to explain to you why converse are a good idea? I bet 5$ you already own a pair! They’re also great running shoes in case you need to flee from cops if need be, in my experience.

And from there you can mix and match with jewelry (in the face or otherwise) and hair to get a whole look! Hope this helps my darling!! Best of luck with punking it up!!! 

[kaleid-tay-scope]

New Reputation: Taylor Swift shares intel on TS7, fan theories, and her next era

Snakes begone. The 29-year-old superstar is back with a new album and a new outlook on life. We go inside the pop monarch's latest chapter.

Alex Suskind

May 09, 2019 at 12:00 PM EDT

Peggy Sirota for EW

THE PALM TREES ARRIVED IN FEBRUARY, seven in all, set against a pastel blue backdrop with superimposed stars. It appeared that a new Taylor Swift era was upon us — that the old happy-go-lucky Taylor was not, in fact, dead. Or did it? It was only an Instagram photo, just one more picture in an infinite content scroll. But it also came from a pop star known for prodigious hint-dropping, whose fans turn every piece of info into an online archaeological dig.

As expected, the summery post sent Swifties sifting through each detail with a fine-tooth comb. What did the trees symbolize? An overdue vacation? A recently purchased beach house? A secret palm-frond collection? Or maybe, as many surmised, it was new music. One Twitter user predicted that the number of stars in the background of the photo hinted at a single drop: “There’s about 60/61 [stars]️. There’s 61 days until April 26, FRIDAY, a SINGLE RELEASE day!” Another said it was the unofficial announcement of her next LP: “Okay so in this picture there are 4 palm trees on the left (4 country albums). There are two palm trees on the right (2 pop albums). There is one large palm tree in the middle. This represents her new album.” These may sound like ludicrous conspiracy theories — for the record, they were mostly correct — but they fit firmly within the Taylor Swift Musical Universe (it’s like the Marvel Cinematic Universe but with more guitars and fewer Stan Lee cameos).

“I posted that the day that I finished the seventh album,” says Swift about the photo. “I couldn’t expect [my fans] to know that. I figured they’d figure it out later, but a lot of their theories were actually correct. Those Easter eggs were just trying to establish that tone, which I foreshadowed ages ago in a Spotify vertical video for ‘Delicate’ by painting my nails those [pastel] colors.”

It’s now April, and the 29-year-old pop star is in a Los Angeles photo studio, giving her first sit-down magazine interview in three years. She wants to discuss the art of placing hints inside her work, as well as the upcoming record, which she recorded as soon as she finished the Reputation Tour. She’s also keen on detailing her own obsessions, talking up the TV shows, books, and songs that help shape her outlook on life.

Over the past 13 years, Swift has perfected the pop culture feedback loop: She shares updates about her life and drops hints about new music, which fans then gobble up and re-promote with their own theories, which Swift then re-shares on her Tumblr or incorporates into future clues. It’s like a T-Swift-built Escher staircase of personal memories and moments that tease what’s next. “I’ve trained them to be that way,” she says of her fans’ astute detective work. Swift is a pop culture fanatic herself (see: the jean jacket she’s wearing on the EW cover) and has an innate understanding of the lengths her audience will go to be a part of the original creation. “I love that they like the cryptic hint-dropping. Because as long as they like it, I’ll keep doing it. It’s fun. It feels mischievous and playful.”

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Through this approach, Swift has designed the ultimate artistic scavenger hunt — and it’s easy to get swept up in its drama, even if you don’t listen to her music. Her moments aren’t always hidden, either. Sometimes Swift highlights aspects of her world just so fans feel like they’re on the journey with her. Like the time in March 2018 when pop singer Hayley Kiyoko was accused of shading Swift after mentioning her name during an interview. On Tumblr, Swift re-shared a fan’s post, adding commentary that defended Kiyoko, which immediately dispelled any conflicts between the two artists; Swift’s post subsequently received more than 29,000 notes. Four months later, she invited Kiyoko on stage during the Reputation Tour to sing her hit “Curious.” Kiyoko returned the favor when she had Swift join her that December at a benefit on behalf of the LGBTQ organization the Ally Coalition to perform “Delicate.” Fans of both artists were elated by the mutual support.

The feedback loop also extends outside of music. In October 2018, Swift broke her silence about politics by publicly endorsing two candidates for office in her adopted state of Tennessee, while encouraging her followers to register to vote. She kept up the civic momentum through Election Day when she asked fans to post selfies after voting; Swift then eagerly re-promoted her favorites on Instagram stories.

This practice of sharing and re-sharing and sharing again is why listeners consider Swift one of the world’s most accessible pop stars, someone willing to not only interact with her audience but invite them to secret listening sessions, or make the occasional surprise visit to their wedding or prom. It’s a symbiotic relationship, one that, as Swift tells EW, helped her dig out of the darker era of reputation. “It’s definitely the fans that made that tonal shift in the way I was feeling,” she says. “Songwriters need to communicate, and part of communicating correctly is when you put out a message that is understood the way you meant it. reputation was interesting because I’d never before had an album that wasn’t fully understood until it was seen live. When it first came out everyone thought it was just going to be angry; upon listening to the whole thing they realized it’s actually about love and friendship, and finding out what your priorities are.”

Then, during the Reputation Tour, she had an epiphany: that despite the caricature that she thought had been created of her, there were many people who saw what others had simply refused to. “I would look out into the audience and I’d see these amazing, thoughtful, caring, wonderful, empathetic people,” she says. “So often with our takedown culture, talking s— about a celebrity is basically the same as talking s— about the new iPhone. So when I go and I meet fans, I see that they actually see me as a flesh-and-blood human being. That — as contrived as it may sound — changed [me] completely, assigning humanity to my life.”

At tour’s end, she channeled that positive energy into the studio, recording the new album in just under three months. But the fast pace won’t mean a short LP. Swift confirmed that her seventh record (she hasn’t announced a title yet; the working nickname among fans is TS7) will include more songs than any of her previous releases. “I try not to go into making an album with any expectation,” she says. “I started to write so much that I knew immediately it would probably be bigger.”

The project will also feature a mix of old and new collaborators (on the candy-coated lead single “ME!” Swift brought in Panic! At the Disco frontman Brendon Urie and coproducer Joel Little, both of whom she had never worked with), but she is unsurprisingly coy about doling out much more information, as if doing so would break the carefully honed T-Swiftian feedback loop. “There’s a lot of a lot on this album,” she says. “I’m trying to convey an emotional spectrum. I definitely don’t wanna have too much of one thing…. You get some joyful songs and you get the bops, as they say.” There’s also, she adds, some “really, really, really, really sad songs,” but “not enough to where you need to worry about me.”

She gives us one more clue: The true distinction between TS7 and reputation is in the delivery. “This time around I feel more comfortable being brave enough to be vulnerable, because my fans are brave enough to be vulnerable with me. Once people delve into the album, it’ll become pretty clear that that’s more of the fingerprint of this — that it’s much more of a singer-songwriter, personal journey than the last one.”

The past month has seen a deluge of Swift activity, from the release of the new single to dropping more hints in interviews about the record and its title, which is apparently hidden somewhere inside the “ME!” music video (current fan guesses include Kaleidoscope and Daisy). But if the Easter eggs from the pop star seem like a business-as-usual routine, she says this album does indeed mark a new era of her life, where she’s been better able to prioritize what’s important to her.

“Our priorities can get messed up existing in a society that puts a currency on curating the way people see your life,” she says. “Social media has given people a way to express their art. I use it to connect with fans. But on the downside you feel like there are 3 trillion new invisible hoops that you have to jump through, and you feel like you’ll never be able to jump through them all correctly. I — along with a lot of my friends and fans — am trying to figure out how to navigate living my life and not just curating what I want people to think living my life is. I’m not always able to maintain a balance, and I think that’s important for everyone to know about. We’re always learning, and that’s something that I also had to learn — that I’ve got to be brave enough to learn. Learning in public is so humiliating sometimes…. Do I feel more balanced in my life than I ever have before? Um, probably yeah. But is that permanent? No. And I think being okay with that has put me in a bit of a better position.” Strong words to live by, to quote, to re-share, to tweet back to her, and see if she’ll respond.