#this is a very obvious statement for many reasons with ​mash but literally how could he not be on the verge of losing it half the time

[leonardcohenofficial]

i think all the time about loretta swit’s description of hawkeye and alan alda’s approach to the character—“alan's approach to hawkeye was a large child looking for companionship, a hug, and a squeeze”—in conversation with both the ways in which we see hawkeye’s relationships with the other members of the 4077th develop and the aspects of hawkeye’s personality and behaviour that reflect those types of basic needs not being met

[aurora-australis-tumbles]

I love your ficlets! How about... 47 and 77... for phrack?

Not a Date + In Vino Veritas

Oh friend, you are the best plot bunny and this definitely got away from me. I’m not even sure this IS a ficlet anymore. Sörrynotsorry? 😉

———————

Every year the Melbourne Police Department holds a city-wide competition, open to all officers, which consists of an obstacle course, a test of marksmanship, a written exam, and a real time tactical scenario. And every year the winner of this competition receives a semi-decent plaque and a semi-decent prize, like popular concert tickets or a visit to a spa. This year, it was an exclusive all day wine tasting at the nearby Voigt Winery. Also this year, for the first time ever, there were two winners: Inspector Jack Robinson of City South and Inspector Phryne Fisher of City North both achieved perfect scores. Two plaques were awarded and two vouchers were presented to two detectives who would attend together.

It was not a date.

Inspectors Robinson and Fisher each repeated this statement many times to many colleagues in the weeks leading up to the tasting, as well as the phrases, “we’re just friends” and “shut up.” Their colleagues’ confusion was understandable, though, given that every time said Inspectors were together, their chemistry was beyond obvious, as was the fact they were never, ever planning to do anything about it. They fought and flirted and stood far, far too close to each other and had done for what seemed like forever.

Friends had taken to calling them “The Literal URST” behind their backs.

So by the time the tasting rolled around everyone was very, very clear, courtesy of both Inspectors, that it was not a date.

What it was, was… fun. Really, really fun. They always enjoyed each other’s company, but away from work, they simply enjoyed each other. It was, appropriately, intoxicating.

Also, the wine was good.

Really, really good.

So good, in fact, that by the end of the tasting neither detective was fit to drive home. 

She suggested calling an Uber, but her phone had died and he didn’t have the app on principle. He tried to call a taxi, but that proved fruitless in his inebriated state and eventually they just decided to walk. Together, but only because they were both headed the same way.

Because it was not a date.

Halfway back to her place they came across a playground, and, in her inebriated state, she hopped up on one of the swings, daring him to as well.

He rolled his eyes, but joined her anyway.

It was a very dark night, and as they swung back and forth their eyes inevitably drifted up.

“The stars are very pretty,” she said, her voice a little dreamy.

“Mmmmm,” he agreed earnestly. “I’ve always thought so.”

“Were you interested in the stars growing up?”

He turned to face her as best he could on a moving swing. “Junior Astronomer, 10 years running.”

She laughed in delight and he chuckled with her.

“My dad,” he continued what the wine had begun, “got me into it. We used to go stargazing all the time. He’d get me up at 3am if need be — to see something really special, mind — then drive me straight to school after so I wouldn’t be late.”

“Oh, so the obsessive rule following is genetic,” she determined, smiling fondly at him.

“Must be,” he agreed.

They stayed quiet for a while after that, just swinging in companionable silence.

Until she broke it.

“Why did you never ask me out?” The question was so quiet, he almost didn’t hear it. “We both know there’s something here. Why… why did you never pursue it?”

Jack kept swinging. 

“When I was 15,” he told her quietly, “my dad and I went to Yarra Bluff to see a particularly impressive meteor shower. It was really spectacular that year, Phryne, like the heavens were putting on a light show.” He smiled a little at the memory, before continuing his story.

“We always went to Yarra Bluff for something like that; the views were great. But as we parked the car that night, there were these three old guys leaving. Said they’d heard about another place where the views were even better. Invited us to come with them. But my dad and I… we knew our spot. Decided to stay with what we knew, rather than risk losing it all.” 

He sighed, pumping his legs a little less enthusiastically on the swings. “I guess the cautious nature is genetic too.”

She raised an eyebrow and frowned. “And what am I in this analogy? The bluff?”

He looked up, watching the stars. “You’re the heavens, Phryne. You always were.”

In response, she made a small noise he couldn’t identify, and he risked a glance her way, but she was staring ahead at nothing in particular. “Why didn’t you ask me out?” he inquired with alcohol fueled curiosity.

She smiled sadly. “Oh that’s easy — I thought you’d say no.”

Their swings were slowing down, the moment passing as so many moments between them had passed over the years, when suddenly she looked up sharply.

“Oh, Jack, look!”

It was a shooting star, and Jack knew how rare that was to see through the lights of the city, so he did look up at it, but only for a moment before his attention was back on her.

It always was.

Maybe it was because the walk and the playground and the stars reminded him of his youth, or maybe it was because the wine was really, really good, or maybe it was something else entirely, but for whatever reason when the swings came to rest he came to life, reaching across the small space between them and kissing her, seizing this moment before it was gone. She responded ardently and they wound up tangling limbs and chains in their enthusiasm before a man walking his dog brought them both back to earth.

“For the record,” he said softly, his forehead still touching hers, “this is me saying yes.”

She placed a hand on his cheek, her delighted expression mirroring his own. “Me too,” she whispered.

Jack grinned, part wine, mostly Phryne, and offered to walk her home. Reminding him that that had been the plan the whole time, it was her turn to roll her eyes, but she took his hand all the same.

They stopped three more times in shadowed streets and darkened alleys to make out, seizing moments all over Melbourne, making up for lost time.

Eventually, they made it back to her street. They were both mostly sober by then, which is why it meant all the more that she asked him to come back the next night for dinner and a private whisky tasting. He happily agreed, but as they approached her condo, he didn’t walk her to her front door. 

Just the bottom step. 

After all, it was not a date.

| Fanfiction Trope MASH-UP |

[justjasmine]

Learning to Skate

Friends of mine know that recently my quarantined brain decided to make the impulsive decision to buy some roller skates. I know what you’re thinking. “Jasmine, you’ve absolutely lost it. Quarantine has gotten to your already unstable brain and the last straw has been drawn.” You may very well be right with that statement, but before you decide to call the cops/psych ward/animal control on me, I invite you to hear a few words on what I’ve learned thus far in the process.

First, (and this might be obvious) skating is hard. Skating as an adult? Even harder. I remember being in elementary school and getting invited to birthday parties at the neighborhood skating rink, Rollerscape, and oh what a blissful and carefree time that was. I could load up on cake and arcade games and make a LOT of noise and no one could really tell me to stop (or they could, but I wouldn’t listen) because, hey, I was 7 years old. I miss that. I miss the ability to play without inhibition and the lack of judgment for looking like a fool. There was a certain unspoken agreement in that skating rink and in that childhood splendor that we were going to let our wildest selves run free and I find that a beautiful (albeit slightly chaotic because again, 7 year olds) and precious thing.

Second, and this goes back to what I discussed in Growing Pains, but I found myself a little irked by the fact that I wasn’t immediately amazing at skating. Sure, I haven’t skated in well over 10 years but why am I not twirling and swirling with the best of them yet? This goes back to that unrealistic pressure, that idealized notion that I have to know what there is to know because “I’m at a point in life where I should know things”. This is where I want to reiterate the lesson that I am constantly learning of grace. There’s a weird kind of beauty in the slow progression of learning a new skill, and I find that I’m learning what it’s like to peacefully fall into that and allow myself to experience it rather than wishing it all away immediately.

I think we can all agree that there’s something undeniably beautiful and pure in watching a baby struggle to take their first steps. The many stumbles, the uncertainty magnified by their reaching out, and (if you’re lucky enough to witness it) the successful transition to actually making real steps is the stuff that pure wonder is made out of. It’s beautiful for so many reasons, one being how unapologetically honest the moment is. A baby is a baby, uncorrupted by the world and not yet programmed to cover things up or to feel shame from “messing things up”. You see how babies operate; they fall down, that doesn’t stop them! They get right back up again, sometimes even cracking a smile or unleashing a giggle at the moment before. Now, I’m not preaching to anyone to start eating Gerber mashed carrots or start wearing diapers for the heck of it again, but rather to take a look at the bigger picture: we were all babies once, and this capacity to get back up after having fallen down is innately human. It’s in all of us, we just have to let ourselves access it and learn to be comfortable with the discomfort of the free-fall.

Now especially in this dreamlike quarantine state, I think so many of us are struggling to find meaning in what appears to be a very bleak and mundane existence. Day in and day out, there’s a lot of monotony and productivity for a lot of us (creatives especially) seems to be at an external standstill. It’s corny and cliche and I’d be lying if I said I took this advice 100%, 90%, or even 70% of the time, but I am under the impression that sometimes you have to make your own sunshine, make lemonade out of lemons so to speak. This is where our inner spirit is challenged with the task of deciding to engage with our surroundings or let them wholeheartedly dictate our story. For different people in different circumstances that looks different.

Not everyone has to come out of quarantine having learned 5 languages, written a screenplay, and discovered the recipe for the perfect banana bread. For the large majority of us, we have to just make the conscious decision to get out of bed and face the world today, and that’s okay. If there’s one thing that countless hours left to contemplate my own thoughts (thank you quarantine) has taught me, it’s that I need not apologize for where I land in life or, in the case of my roller skating, on the ground. You have to be bad at something before you can be good at it. You have to go through amateur hour before you can wheel and deal with the professionals. You have to fall (whether literally or figuratively) a lot of times before you learn to walk. And some of us (me) may never become professional roller skaters. We don’t have to; that’s not the point. The point is that we tried.

[aflirtingaccident]

Fortune Favors The Bold

Naoto Shirogane, now twenty, is called in to the SIU to help apprehend the Phantom Thieves. Working alongside prosecutor Sae Niijima, Naoto suspects that there's more to the Phantom Thieves than some online popularity and a flashy logo. As the mystery unravels, Naoto's presence threatens the stability of Tokyo's shadowy puppeteers - and certain conspirators are desperate to keep her away from the truth. Contains spoilers for Persona 4, and for Persona 5 past July and up through the true ending.

(Read it on AO3: http://archiveofourown.org/works/10931373/chapters/24317115 )

“They’re sending her?”

The voice on the other end of the line kept talking.  With each word, the SIU director’s brows furrowed further down, and any smile he had vanished more and more.  Sighing, he rubbed the bridge of his nose, pushing down his glasses.  This was turning into a headache.  “We already have Akechi-san here.  With all due respect, sir, what do you think she could possibly do to help?”

The voice went on.  Hiroshi wanted nothing more than to hang up and pretend he’d never had this conversation.  His fingers moved from his nose to the top of his desk, drumming the hardwood.  “I understand, sir, but I really don’t think this is necessary.  We have several promising new leads, an-” More words.  More rising annoyance.  “Very well, sir.  I’ll make the arrangements myself.  She’ll have our full cooperation.”  He mashed the disconnect button and carelessly dropped his phone onto his desk, taking a moment to think about this hitch.

This was a problem.

He slowly rose from his office chair and stepped out from behind his desk, moving to his window.  Gazing out onto the bustling streets of Tokyo far below him, he mulled over his options. Saying no clearly wasn’t available.  Neither was pulling some strings to get her sent away - people higher up than him had made it very, very clear that the continued activities of the Phantom Thieves were reflecting poorly on the government.  Though his collaborators could do many things, even this was beyond their power - this was the institution they were trying to topple, after all.

There was also the obvious solution, but doing that to a world famous detective would undoubtedly only bring suspicion upon them.  Those kind of hits were planned and calculated, and using them to simply get rid of an inconvenience was overkill - and it added more evidence to a subtly growing pile, one that would eventually be impossible to hide.

Burying her in red tape and procedure was possible, but ultimately wouldn’t lead to much.  She was famous for a reason, and her connections and reputation often let her fast track most things she needed, when she was able.  She knew the system inside and out, so anything he could do could be easily overcome. Still, it was the only option he had available. Hiroshi walked back to his desk and picked up his phone, dialing in a number..  Like or it not, his true employer deserved to know what was going on.  He glanced around to make sure no one else was in his office, then he hit the connect button.  It rang twice before someone picked up.

“It’s me,” he said when the line connected.  He heaved out a small sigh, then continued speaking.  “We...may have a problem.”

---

Naoto Shirogane was a long, long way from Inaba.

She was sitting at the desk in the corporate studio apartment that was her home for the next several months.  Dossiers of the Phantom Thieves’ ‘victims’ were spread out in front of her, and her laptop was open to her left.  She was typing the occasional note as she read through them.

Every victim directly targeted by the Phantom Thieves has experienced a sudden and out-of-character ‘change of heart’.  This ‘change of heart’ appears to be an unusual form of brainwashing or mind control, compelling the victims to confess their crimes and experience a massive influx of guilt.

Her mind raced through explanations, each of them as unlikely as the last.  Kirijo tech?  Some kind of hypnotism?  Very well done blackmail?  The police were long on questions and very short on answers, or even suspects.  To call the situation ‘desperate’ would not be incorrect.

She let out a slow breath and blinked, sending a pain through her eyes as they watered over - she’d been so deep in concentration that she’d forgotten to blink for the past few minutes.  Rubbing her eyes with her hands, she saw that sign for what it was.

Ugh...I need to take a break.  I can’t overwork myself before I’ve even officially started this case.  Rise would’ve dragged me away from this hours ago.

A smile graced her lips as she pictured Rise literally dragging her chair away from her desk, then spinning her around and frowning in that adorable way she does.  With a grunt of exertion, and extra motivation from the mental image of her disappointed girlfriend, Naoto rose from her chair and stretched her body out.  The grunt made her realize just how dry her throat was, so she walked over to the small kitchen area and poured herself a glass of tap water, sipping as she thought.

Then there’s the mental shutdown cases, which differ in two ways: first, they don’t get calling cards, and second, they actually harm the victim.  Are these shutdowns perpetrated by the Phantom Thieves as well?  Do they sort their victims into two categories and merit out punishments?  Why would they attack seemingly innocent people with shutdowns and genuine criminals with calling cards?

She stopped herself from going too far down this line of thinking - it would do little good now to get so obsessed with it.  Hopefully, her first trip to the police station tomorrow would help - there, she could get more evidence, obtain more complete statements, and link up with the SIU’s own investigators.

She made a mental note to get to the station early tomorrow, partially to make a good impression and partially to avoid any media presence - she was fairly certain her arrival had gone unnoticed, but if the news found out that both Detective Princes were working on the same case...

She shook the thought from her mind.  The media was more Akechi’s thing, anyway - she had no stomach for interviews and fame.  Glancing outside her windows, she saw only the lights of the city - the sun had long since set, and Tokyo’s nightlife had come out to play.  She glanced over at her work, considering going back to it. As if on cue, her stomach grumbled, so she instead settled on calling it a night and grabbing some dinner.

---

The cool night air tickled Naoto’s cheeks, and she took in the sights and sounds of Shibuya for a little while, walking up and down the shops near the station and central square.  Spotting Toranosuke Yoshida giving a speech in the station intrigued her - she knew his political career had ended in shambles years ago, but he had quite the focused crowd here in front of him.  She stopped and listened for a few minutes, his speech invigorating her more than she thought it would.

Her idle wanderings eventually brought her to a late-night beef bowl shop, which seemed as good a place as any to eat at - she didn’t make it a habit to eat out all the time, but she’d been too tired to go grocery shopping when she’d arrived.  This would tide her over for now.

She walked in and took a seat at the counter, glancing at the young man taking everyone’s orders.  He looked high school age, with short, fluffy black hair and large, round glasses.  His work outfit, she noticed, was not too far from the outfit she’d worn for the whole Midnight Stage incident - blue hat, blue shirt, dark pants...all he was missing were suspenders and a yellow tie. I hope I never have to save the world through dancing again.  At least it was easy to dance in.  And Rise said I looked good with a tie.

“What’ll it be?” She snapped out of her thoughts and glanced up - the boy was standing in front of her, ready to go. “Oh.  Uh…”  She glanced at the menu in front of her, scanning it quickly.  “I’ll have a medium beef bowl, please.” The boy nodded and scurried off, going to enter her order into the computer, but something seemed to catch him mid-stride.  He turned back to Naoto and did a small double take. Naoto know that reaction all too well.  She’d been recognized, so she gently shook her head, then looked back down at the menu.  To his credit, the boy didn’t press, so her mind wandered back to the cases.

There must be a normal explanation, but nothing I know of can make people confess in this manner, overloaded with guilt.  Given the apparent lack of one, is it worth considering the possibility of something paranormal, or am I jumping to conclusions?

Her previous experience with events lacking mundane explanations is what was guiding her right to this idea of something normal.  The Midnight Channel, Midnight Stage, and A-1 Grand Prix fighting tournament had opened her eyes to an impossible world.  The Phantom Thieves sounded like they were performing impossible feats.  No one could figure out how they were changing the hearts of their targets, just like no one could figure out where the Midnight Channel’s subjects had gone.

The similarities admittedly could just be coincidental, but Naoto knew instinctively that something wasn’t normal with this case.  The mental shutdown incidents only compounded the situation - separately, the Phantom Thieves and the mental shutdowns would’ve flown under her supernatural radar, but so close together? Something’s not right.  These confessions are too...poetic.

Justice, as she knew, was rarely so poetic in the real world. The boy brought her dinner over, carefully setting it down in front of her.  “Thanks,” she said with a gentle smile as she looked up.  The boy merely smiled in return and gave her a short bow, then stepped away to resume his job.

Naoto picked up her chopsticks and was about to dig in when a decoration atop the food caught her eye - a small magnifying glass had been drawn in a light sauce atop the egg yolk.

The addition brought a wide smile to Naoto’s lips, and she glanced up to try and find the kid’s eye.  Noticing the movement, he looked up from washing dishes, and there was a moment between them as they saw into each other. Good kid.  Perceptive, too, with the way he figured out what I’d laugh at so easily…

An image of Yu came unbidden to her mind as she started to eat.

---

As she took her time getting back, her phone buzzed - a text message from Rise.

> hey u!

Smiling wide, Naoto’s fingers flew across the keyboard.

> HEY U

> im so sry nao-kun, i cant call 2nite as usual.  mr mgr is being a butt! >_<

> IT’S OK.  PLZ CALL TOMORROW IF FREE.

> ofc! i luv u, naoto-kun!

> LOVE YOU TOO

> \ (^◡^) /

Face flushed, Naoto put her phone back in her pocket and headed back to her apartment at a brisk pace.  For one, she didn’t want people to see her blushing, and for two, she had a big day tomorrow.  The Phantom Thieves were about to meet their match.

[mistergothlord]

How about some late Halloween spooky asks? It's a Monster Mash! Vampire, Witch, Ghost, Frankenstein, Mummy, Zombie, Faerie, Nymph, Shapeshifter, Genie, and Fury.

♪ A MONSTER MASH ♪

Oh bloody heaven, I’m going to have fun with these asks! I was wonderin’ when I was going to get one of these!

I hope you comrades like the fact I talk in paragraphs.

Vampire: Someone offers you a chance at immortality. Do you take it, and why or why not?

It would depend on what price it must cost, but I can take it if it’s mandatory. Using it for fun will make it less joyful while you watch your loved ones die. I’d use it for the benefit of carrying on my family’s tradition, and also in order to bring harmony to the world and setting neutral ties to other places.

Witch: If you could change one thing about the world, what would it be?

Out of the plethora of things I’ve seen in the world, it would be how people view one another. 

I’ve grown up having to deal with racism as a kid, whether having to go visit my grandmother or having classmates smudge news reports on my face. Hell, my sister had to deal with a teacher who gave her a zero just because of her race, and it took months for the district to fire her. Thank god the only place she’s working now is in her grave.

Seriously, I wished we live in a world where nobody judged one another based on race, then we’d all be satisfied.

Ghost (Fuck yeah): Do you have any regrets?

If you comrades have looked into my “Chianti Talks” tag, you’d notice that I happen to have a bloody ton of regrets, most of them simple and others that still haunt me to this day. The most notable one with with an MLP Blog that led to an unhealthy relationship with my ex-friend, but that I’m not mentioning.

However, none of it can top off the story of my first boyfriend in middle school that got karma slithering in his sleeves.

It was a gentle November, and I was heading onward to my Technology class. There would be this boy who’d follow me around, saying they’re friends with a person I, too, am friends with. He’d ask me out, literally on the spot, and I was so uncomfortable to where I fled from him constantly. This would last for an entire month, just me trying to get away from that damning devil.

Then one day, one of my friends came up to me and asked me why I was running away from him, and I told him that I didn’t like his attitude and wanted him to stay away from me. He then said that I should at least try to get a boyfriend, instead of distancing myself. His reason? He said this,

“You want to be free from the battered imprisonment of your home, don’t you?”

This was a very true statement, since at one point I exploded at my family, calling them out on mocking me constantly without knowing how hurt I was. Plus, I had very limited friends both on social media and in real life, and an easy target for bullies and nearly became one myself. So one day, I eventually considered the offer, and thus got a boyfriend… Or so I did.

Want to know what I didn’t like about him? He’d be constantly be in my face, his breath equivalent to the grossest stench you can think of. He’d also try to show me he can draw, but it was just lazily made stick figures done on crumpled paper. Plus, the things he said were pretty creepy, such as how he’d die for me.

Luckily, my elder sister, Ari, found out, and told me that I’m better off without a boyfriend like him. I broke up with him, not understanding why she wanted me to at first, but then I knew why: He eventually replaced me with another girl, and then replaced her with another. He even went as far as getting a girl pregnant in high school and die, forcing him to drop out and now lives in the streets. I never had another boyfriend again afterwards.

The only thing you can learn from this is that love is a disgusting feeling. The next time someone tries to convince you that getting married will get you money, you’re better off working hard to become rich just like Rockefeller did.

Frankenstein: Is someone telling you how to live your life, or are you an independent person?

Ah, bloody hell, comrades. I’m already going to college next year and once that happens, I’ll be saving up for my personal doing, so it’s obvious I’m independent.

Mummy: If you were to fall into an eternal sleep, do you think anyone would miss you?

My sister would be devastated by this, but to be brutally honest, I doubt other people would miss me. I would often tell my sister I feel like I’m a curse that had been responsible for the many events, though my sister did say otherwise. Yes, she knows I’m a bit stubborn at times and get grimly quiet when angered, but I love her as much as she does for me. We’re nothing without each other, and that’s why we call ourselves the “Double A Sisters.”

If she is in eternal sleep, who’s going to keep me company? If myself, wouldn’t she feel like she lost something important?

Zombie: Do you miss anyone right now?

I miss my old friends, and half of the time my exes (though I come to realize how bigoted they were from the start and then look at vines). It ain’t going to stop me from reaching my goals.

Faerie: If you could get away with anything, what would you do?

If you’ve asked my sister, my only wish is to get away with lying. I am known to get past the staff during my school years so I’d get to class faster, but making an excuse to why I’m late was never enough for the teachers. Same can be said for why I didn’t come to a friend’s birthday party. :\

Nymph: What are you like when you’re by yourself?

When I’m alone, I tend to hum to myself and dance a bit around the house, making myself a small pizza, play music at full blast, put on a fancy gothic outfit of my choice, lie down a bit in case of a headache, and do an art stream / draw some stuff.

Shapeshifter: What would you change about yourself?

In all honesty, I wish I was more motivated. Again, I had been bullied at a younger age, in which made me grow very insecure and caring what people think of my anything I want to do. While I have grown more and more open now, it still hurts me that I can’t talking to anybody without thinking, “What will they think?”

Genie: If you had one wish that would come true and couldn’t be reversed, what would you ask for?

It would be to live infinitely, my age to be halted and my face to be forever youthful. I don’t care if the others around me wither away, I will at least have so much to live for, even if I’m making my own empire.

Fury: What is a word/phrase that you dread to hear?

I’ll just make this answer a Top 5 Most Hated Words / Phrases:

“I don’t care.”

“World War III”

Any sort of screaming.

“Goodbye.”

“Remember that one person who -insert awful memory here-?”