#this is why im both mad and unsurprised.

[diodellet]

hot take: from the beginning, obm has always been carried by its fans. maybe it's just the collective nostalgia and attachment towards the franchise that make it seem like solmare is bringing an end to an amazing era, but the games were not really that good.

you—artists and writers and cosplayers and editors and everyone with a soul and creative bone and love for these characters—you all made it good.

[burr-ell]

@meiloorun-notthefruit replied to your post “yeah, hot take, if you haven't watched the first...”:

Wait if anybody wants to respond to this i have never watched c1 and i am having the time of my life with this week's episode, what is an example of the group actually mad? im curious

​Sorry it took me a minute to respond to this! There's a pretty good writeup of the issue on r/HobbyDrama (though it does have one or two minor errors), but I'll give you the short(er) answer.

So originally, Vox Machina actually had eight members: Percy, Grog, Scanlan, Pike, Vax, Vex, Keyleth, and Tiberius Stormwind, a dragonborn sorcerer played by Orion Acaba, another voice actor who'd done work on video games and anime with the rest of the cast. For a variety of reasons, Orion rather quickly developed a nasty case of Main Character Syndrome, and frequently did things that genuinely angered the cast. A couple notable examples:

When the party fought and defeated K'Varn, a beholder, in 1x11, Orion had Tiberius exit the fight for a plan to rally a group of mindflayers to their cause (which failed), and eventually returned, landed the final killing blow on K'Varn, and generally acted like an ass about it, leading to Marisha demanding to know why he was being so rude and unpleasant.

In Vasselheim in 1x16, in order to escape from a trap, Vex had to fire a nearly-impossible shot and rolled a 35, meaning it was guaranteed to happen and was going to be an incredible moment for her, and Orion had Tiberius insert himself to "help" using Telekinesis. The entire cast yelled at him indiscriminately for it, and while Matt was able to thread the needle live on stream, the atmosphere was generally very tense.

The nadir of them all, 1x27. This one's a twofer:

I don't know if you've watched TLOVM, but the Briarwood arc had just begun at this point, and all the party really knew about the Briarwoods was that at least one of them was a vampire. (I can't remember if they knew Delilah was a human necromancer by this point.) So Tiberius goes on a HUGE shopping trip to buy—among other things—every mirror he can in Emon, and the conclusion most people have drawn, quite reasonably, is that he intended to use them to make a massive light array to just drench Whitestone in sunlight and fry all the vampires. He also tries to write his family in his hometown of Draconia to bring the Draconian army into Whitestone to take care of things for them. Both of those things are frustrating to watch in the moment, but especially so when you realize that they're attempts to essentially speedrun Percy's entire arc and make Tiberius the hero. This and the other things he was doing already took up a ton of solo time, and Travis (known hater of shopping) eventually snapped "how about you get nothing else, and we move on?"

Then, the grandaddy of them all: while the party was discussing what to do and Vex was formulating a plan, Orion announced out of bumfuck nowhere that "Tiberius is getting a half-chub". Every single person at the table was appalled, and you can feel the change in the air if you watch the scene. Travis and Taliesin are both visibly furious; Sam, Marisha, Liam, and Matt are completely taken aback; and Laura looks incredibly uncomfortable. Tiberius had never established this aspect of his character at all the way Scanlan did, and after everything else there was very little patience anyone was going to grant him.

These are just isolated moments; Orion had overall behaved rather unpleasantly on-air and did a lot of metagaming (the reason he left the K'Varn fight was that he knew what beholders were and thought Matt was out to get him), and Matt once explicitly said after Orion left that he used to cheat on his dice rolls. Going from episode 27 to 28 is such a palpable shift in tone and atmosphere, and it's unsurprising that two episodes later they would announce Orion's permanent departure.

So yeah—if you've watched those scenes, you have a much better metric for what the cast's genuine anger is actually like.

[sanchoyo]

danny phantom season 2, episode 17-20 thoughts! finishing up season two! the finale is the THIRD 2-PARTER OF SEASON 2. that's so many! I wonder how many season 3 will have?

see prev episode thoughts in this tag <3

-UERGH WHY DOES VLAD HAVE AN AI WITH MADDIE'S FACE ON IT. SOOO CREEPY. AND MORE 'CREATIONS' waiiiit. vlad is Dr. Frankenstein! (despite his ghost design obviously referencing vampires) HE HAS 'CREATIONS' HE MAKES THEN WONT TAKE REAL RESPONSIBILITY FOR!!! this bitch.

-danny was late and his friends immediately start going off about how hes inconsiderate, and has been treating them like sidekicks??? he just overslept, my god. chill. even if he has, be nicer about talking about it with him?? he really can't help that he sometimes has to chase the ghosts, or has a secret identity to protect...

-'what kind of ghost haunts a miniature golf course' umm. me as a ghost. next question

-imagine going home and theres a tiny child on your bed claiming to be your cousin. with as many cousins I have, I would probably believe her. but the 'ran away from home' BIT....SHES 12?? SHES SO TINY. I hate that they have her belly out in her ghost form, but I like how her colors are asymmetrical. something about her design...maybe the proportions?? are weird to me...anyway danny was good to feed her, but he shouldve taken her to his parents FIRST. or, tbh, probably jazz. (JAZZ DIDNT EVEN GET TO MEET HER!!! NOOO. I mean she said she'll be BACK BUT STILL)

-ANYWAY. shes voiced by AnnaSophia Robb, the girl who was in because of winn dixie, played as violet from charlie and the chocolate factory, and was the girl from bridge to terrabithia. (the movie that made me cry hysterically when I was 12 and I never watched it again because it Broke Me!) thats super cool.

-vlad sucks: the episode, basically. what's new!! I love how he's like, I'm Not A Villain. *immediately cuts to him torturing danny to make him transform, to get mid-transformation DNA, to perfect a Clone.* *immediately shows that he doesnt give a shit about his new daughter Dani and just wants a ''more perfect clone'' and will put her in danger to get that. will let her DIE to get that*

-Dani is danny's clone and is a girl? transgenderism....one of them has to be trans. or they both are.

-dani just. leaving at the end. WHAT? SHES 12. DONT JUST. NO!!! SHE WAS PROBABLY JUST BORN, A MONTH AGO AT MOST, RIGHT?? SHE NEEDS...SOMEWHERE TO LIVE. MONEY? FOOD?? A FAMILY?? AN EDUCATION???! WHAT DO YOU MEAN SHE'S LEAVING!!! OKAY BYE I GUESS!!! D: concern!!!

-the next ep opens with skulker chasing a ghost down. ...does skulker count as a ghost hunter in the way valerie and danny do? I mean, sure, he hunts the good guys too, but he. he hunts ghosts...also, we haven't seen his Real Form since his debut episode! tiny...

-the guys in white are back! ngl, I assumed they were a gag for that one episode. you're telling me they might actually be a threat? ok.

-valerie in her lil nasty burger uniform looks so cute!! glad shes not in that mascot uniform this time. I guess she stopped hiding that she's working there now?

-gregor having white hair, dressed in black and white...and green eyes...sam has a Type, I guess.

-danny being unnecessarily hostile about gregor. danny!!! hes been nice so far. he looks a little...tall to be 14, but. danny doesnt know anything about him! (he does Suspect, but...you cant just spy on people and be rude to them from a hunch.) also, gregor kissed her, and when she freaked out, he was like 'oh no!! sorry, we can take it slow! I understand!' which was NICE. I hate jealousy plots still tho.

-altho. umm. tucker, being concerned about danny spying on them??? SAM AND YOU WERE SPYING ON DANNY AND VALERIE A FEW EPISODES AGO!!!!! im not saying its RIGHT, but dont be a hypocrite!!! AND THEN SAM BEING MAD ABOUT IT, TOO.

-DANNY IS A 7 ON THE SCALE OF ECTOPLASMIC POWER!!! out of 10? so I want to know where the other ghosts rank...I mean it's a list from the guys in white, so, it may not even be accurate, like, they havent seen ALL of his powers, have they?

-Lancer being like 'im not cooperating with the FEDS' until they said they could access his tax records. they already did that joke with jack, but like, its still funny. kings of tax evasion.

-tucker's aggressive third-wheeling. but gregor being super into it. gregor/tucker is the real ship here. then gregor kissing danny on both cheeks after hugging him. bi poly king gregor. (he does turn out to be a liar with a phoney accent. unsurprising, BUT THE CONCEPT OF HIM BEING GENUINE AND THEM ALL DATING IS FUN)

-THE...GUYS IN WHITE THINKING GREGOR IS DANNY PHANTOM. LMAOOO. GET HIS ASS. or,, Elliot. lmfao

-sam saying tucker is part of the package because theyre friends was super sweet <3 but also 'part of the package'...polyships are obviously the solution to these dumb jealousy/love triangle plots.

-danny crashed a whole plane. the collateral damage...

-is he....

-you know....

.... (ITS NOT GAY IF YOU'RE DOING IT TO PRETEND TO BE SOMEONE YOU'RE NOT, AND LIE TO A GIRL. RIGHT? he was getting a little too into pretending to enjoy tucker's company, and the above...c'mon, guy.)

-lmao, freakshow is in actual prison. I didn't expect a follow up, or for him to show back up! in the finale of this season, too!

-THE SICK TATTOO GHOST IS NAMED LYDIA!!! more Lore On her. freakshow seemed genuinely concerned about her. also, is she mute? I don't think she talked the first time we saw her, either. and we didn't know freakshow 'envied' ghosts, either, the first time, we just knew he was controlling them. interesting!

-...they literally stole the infinity gauntlet from marvel and called it the reality gauntlet. is that legal. what the fuck. even with the gems in the lil slots, having different powers...they had freakshow in jail, but didnt check his pockets??! hes just still in his lil outfit??? what kind of ...oh, its in amity park. yeah, all of the adults are idiots, okay, sure.

-'freakshow!' 'in the anemic flesh!' dude take some iron pills then. also, sure, the red eyes could be contacts for his aesthetic, but the whites of his eyes are yellow! does he have jaundice?! he severely needs more...like, every kind of vitamin. (this is what im worried about as freakshow attacks danny with giant robots)

-again, goth circus is a sick theme, and I love his goth train.

-oh FUCK every single person saw danny transform. on a stage. including his parents via TV. oh god. the guys in white and immediately like 'youre coming in for experiments!' SCARY. at least the crowd is willing to help him to escape...perks of now being a local celeb! even the kids at school are accepting :) this is what, the third time his family has found out? its always been an alt timeline tho. and danny fully intending to just rewrite things again instead of...I dunno, trying to roll with it this time? hes really worried his family won't accept him, huh...

-'maybe our son IS THE GHOST BOY, but its not as if our family's ghostly activities have EVER PUT YOUR FAMILIES IN DANGER' maddie. mmmmmmmmmmmm. okay.

-danny 100% prepared to run away from home because of this :( oh :( and saying his parents are 'looking for him, or a scalpel to dissect him with' ouch...

-THE GUYS IN WHITE TRYING TO ARREST A 14 YEAR OLD. fuck da feds.

-side note (another one about voice actors...) freakshow's voice actor, Jon Cryer, was lex luthor in pretty much every DC tv show, which is why I recognized his voice, because my dad loves those shows so I've seen a good bit of them without seeking them out...)

-the old man saying 'hey, i still had minutes left!' and danny saying 'you gotta watch those roaming charges!' about danny destroying the people in the diner's phones so no one could report seeing him...would kids today understand these things. can you even BUY minutes anymore...I remember my first phone being a flip phone, and the fact I always had minutes when my sister ran out super fast, because I didnt have friends calling or texting me like she did...:/

-the fentons being genuinely like 'why didnt danny trust us and tell us this, we love him :(' and JAZZ LAYING INTO THEM WITH THE 'DISSECTION/MOLECULE BY MOLECULE' LINES. LITERALLLLY. they need to apologize

-technically, lydias stronger than you! -jazz lesbianism moments! when did you even learn her name!!! but also get freakshows ass. lydia is also cooler looking. looove her design sm still.

-jazz psychoanalyzing freakshow... (also, her also having ghost envy? au where jazz is a ghost!! id like to see it)

-im glad the kids still got to go to their respective vacation things, even if they cant really stick around and enjoy them much...

-furry: confirmed. (also tucker calling her hot. tucker is a furry confirmed)

-danny being mad someone at the comic con is selling comics of him without permission, lmfao. give him his royalties!

-freakshow > thanos because hes a drama clown and does use his gauntlet to be FLASHY AND DRAMATIC.

-jazz's 'USE PYSCOLOGY' to danny about freakshow LMAOO. AND THEN IT WORKING. but, oh, freakshow's ghost form sucks. I like him as a clown better tbh. good thing danny took away his ghost powers!

-his parents hugging him and saying theyre proud :"( and saying 'of course you lied to us, we never gave you a reason not to!' and saying they were in the wrong basically for always talking about hurting ghosts aaaa :""(

-then he WIPED THEIR MEMORIES AGAIN!!! FUCK. I can understand him wiping the goverments/student bodies' memories, but why his parents?? they were being accepting!! ARGHHH. season 3 couldve been them all trying to adjust to them knowing!

-I know, on a meta level the showrunners probably wanted to just reset things to the status quo of him having a secret identity. But. We've been doing that for (2) seasons, I'd love if season 3 could be like, his parents adjusting to this and trying way harder to learn more and accept it (and the shenanigans that could come from that) and for fun, if he didn't wipe the students memories, it could be him being popular for a while, then everyone slowly realizing, oh, he's still Danny. Like. he might have ghost powers but hes Just The Same Guy instead of putting him on a pedestal (and seeing them all try and help him hide it from the giw/people who don't know!!)

-fuck they didn't even explain WHY he wiped everyone except sam, tucker and jazz's memories. he just Did It right when his parents were saying they loved/accepted him!! and sam and tucker didnt question it at all!!! HELLO??? very annoyed about this turn of events.

-anyway. onto season 3! I know its shorter than the first two seasons, and is the last season... I might just do it in 2 bursts if I can... :3c depends on the episodes' content and how much I want to say about each!

[violentviolette]

Re: ur “petty sidenote.” Tony did the same “dip from the discord for mental health” when a mad pride member called out Gabe for racism and shitty apologies and a mod *minor* (who is a system) was left to handle it despite the system “going haywire” (that was how the mod described their own experience).

im wholly unsurprised but im also infuriated.

the minor in question is only 16 years old. Tony is 21. a whole ass adult.

people keep wondering why im going so hard on Tony and THIS is why.

Tony emotionally grooms and abuses children. not sexually, please do not mistake this i am not calling Tony a sexual predator at all. I am calling it emotionally abusive and manipulative, especially towards minors.

Tony seeks out young niave people who it can have power and authority over, who will fanboy over it and become one of its flunkies, then befriends and grooms them so they are loyal to it no matter what and will rise up to its defense when someone tries to hold it accountable for its actions.

Tony treats these children like adults, gives them inappropriate amounts of responsibility for both its life and mental health and the spaces it creates, and then when something happens because of Tonys negligence and willfull refusal to act, Tony runs away and leaves these CHILDREN holding the bag

Tony is a danger to minors. the child in question has been in multiple servers begging people to stop "talking bad" about Tony and defending it to the absolute detriment of their mental health. i begged this child to take time away from these spaces and to step back from this situation but their loyalty to Tony and the want to live up to the innapropriate amount of responsibility Tony placed on them has meant they haven't. Tony has literal children out here cleaning up its messes at the direct expense of these children's mental health

during this entire situation Tony has never once taken responsibility. never once taken action to prevent harm. never once done absolutely anything but hand vulnerable people over to predators and then run away crying.

do not let it. do not let Tony aka your-aspd-dad-jokes run away from the harm its caused and then come back in a few weeks like nothing happened and start doing this all over again like it has been for the last 3 god damn years on this site.

fuck tony. its a piece of shit.

[slversoul]

* taylor russell, demi woman + she/her | you know darlene wyman, right? they’re twenty-four, and they’ve lived in irving for, like, six years? well, their spotify wrapped says they listened to hellmouth by choir boy like, a million times this year, which makes sense ‘cause they’ve got that whole face always covered in half a shadow, two day old makeup because she didn’t care enough to take it off, smile that feels like she just signed off on your death thing going on. i just checked and their birthday is january 26th, so they’re an aquarius, which is unsurprising, all things considered. ( cornelia, 21 )

tw: emotional abuse + general bullying, robbery

growing up, darlene was offered all of the freedom in the world, running around her family’s three acre plot of land. the yard was her escape from the suffocating air within the house. with three spare bedrooms, there should have been a place for her to hide, but her mother or her father or her brother always found her. her mother’s shrill criticisms. her father’s disapproving glare. her brother’s cruel smile. she was an ant under a magnifying glass as they watched with glee as she burst into flames.

her biggest escape in life was pottery. she’d sit far in the backyard, beneath her favorite tree, making pinch pots and misshapen animal figurines. 

went bowling one time and met this guy named nick. he was everything her parents hated, and that was part of his charm. one look in his eyes as their hands met when they both reached for the ball (a ploy he later admitted he used to talk to her) and she was hooked.

study groups were code for dates. it was rather easy to keep nick far away from her parents, always thinking of vague excuses why he could never come to her house. he was perfect. he was tough and intimidating, but he was sweet and considerate. darlene would have done anything for him.

things were getting worse at home. she was adamant about doing pottery and sculptures, but her parents refused to indulge her. they wouldn’t let her even look at the credit card. they wouldn’t drive her to the pottery place. instead, her father placed a pair of cleats in her hand and her mother drove her to practice. darlene was good at soccer; she had potential to be great. so her parents pushed her. practice every day after school. private lessons on the weekends. they wouldn’t settle for nothing less than a champion. 

her brother had found her clay sculptures she’d kept hidden away -- a hobby she could never let up. she had to watch with tears welling in her eyes as he stomped on them, smashing them into pieces. as he kicked them around he laughed and told her to watch and learn if she ever wanted to be good at soccer.

her coach had pulled her father aside to tell him that darlene was hardly trying, and that, she would never be great at soccer if she didn’t put in more effort. on the car ride home, her father told her that he wished she would have been a boy, that she would be something he could be proud of.

one day, she broke down and told nick everything. he comforted her and told her he loved her. they made plans to run away together. she gave him a house key to go get her stuff while she was out to dinner with her family. she would sneak out and meet him after.  when they returned home, the house had been robbed. mrs. wyman’s precious jewelry missing. mr. wyman’s hunting rifles gone. of course, darlene kept her mouth shut, not letting them know about nick. she tried desperately to contact him, but he blocked her, and she never heard from him again. she realized that there were no heroes; only villains masquerading as saviors.

she still tried to run away — hid in the neighbors tree house until her brother found her quickly and dragged her kicking and screaming back to the house. surprisingly, her mother wasn’t mad. instead, she pulled her only daughter close and let her tears soak her blouse. later that night, she darlene’s hair and told her that her heart would heal.

darlene let herself believe it was her mother’s love that motivated those actions. she turned a blind eye to her need for obedience because darlene fell into line after that. she stopped making her mud sculptures and turned all of her attention to soccer. 

she improved in every area of her life except social. aggression found an outlet in soccer. her school work served as an escape from other aspects of her life. but she didn’t trust anybody. she yelled at anyone who walked too close to her in the hallway. knocked the books out of the hands at classmates she thought looked at her the wrong way. she talked back to her teachers.

detention after detention stacked up and grades started to slip as she sunk further into her attitude. the tipping point happened after practice one day. her coach told her she was good, but not good enough. nobody wanted to recruit her for college. it was a dead-end, time wasting doing something she didn’t even care about. for weeks, she managed to avoid her parents until they forced her to sit down at dinner. told her she was a disappointment, bigger than they could have ever imagined. she was cut off, expected to leave after graduation. 

she hitched a ride with a friend who was moving to irving to attend the local community college.

currently runs a depop shop and has a garden, but those are her side hustles. her main gig is a hairdresser. she’s on thin ice because she’s messed up haircuts on purpose a couple of times when she gets annoyed with the customers.

PERSONALITY 

she’s so mean but it’s just to cover up her sadness. had big dreams growing up but those have all been crushed, so she doesn’t like getting attached. she will not say a single thing about her past and is not forthcoming at all. mean to keep people away. doesn’t want to bond with people. but she does deep down....darlene just isn’t aware. she’s a scared little girl and that dictates everything she does <3 would love to do pottery again but doesn’t want to be That Girl anymore.....doesn’t want to get pushed around anymore......in here mind there is a correlation between being dreamy and being weak. think kim kelly from freaks and geeks....that’s all for now....

WANTED CONNECTIONS

enemies! a classic but she loves having a list of enemies....the more people who don’t like her, the better she THINKS she feels....

something based on the first two quotes on this im begging.....someone she longs for from a far....she wants them but doesn’t know how to want anything.......hot n cold.....someone is going to end up so so so hurt.....

this! romantic or platonic but someone who puts her in her place....pities her which she hates but it’s because they can see into her soul...

someone who wants to help her despite everything and her resistance to help

like one or two friends.....people she can sit and stew with and there’s not an expectation that they are friends....it looks like they aren’t friends and yet it works somehow <3

[huntsman-ash]

RWBY LiveThoughts: Episodes 8 and 9

So I missed last weeks episode since I got busy with stuff (school mostly, basic bitch busy day and all) so here’s two for one.

Gotta say, Im interested to see where this is going...

So something I missed the last few episodes; the final shot of the opening has the words “happily ever after” turn into “happy never again”, which I am both trepitided by and also intruged.

Cut to the jail cell AGAIN...Schnee’s looking a bit ansty. Boi probably thought he was getting out sooner. Suck it mate, your lawyers are DEAD.

Convinent blast of fire is convinenet...knocks out the cell doors and punches a hole but thats it. My money’s on Cinder

Qrow becomes bird on reaction. Makes sense really. 

Two fade to blacks in less than 2 minutes? Come on RT...

Ohhh its Nora waking up. So does that mean Robyn’s dead? I doubt it, but that drama spike is def a thing.

IV tech in Atlas is almost the same as our world. Interesting.

Whitley A poses like a god. 

Looks like Penny’s back snapped. Or something...maybe a coolant pipe or something similar.  And the return of British Klein.

And there goes the power. Probably a Grimm getting smashed into it during a fight...or they left it unguarded. Either or. Lot of explosions, either way...

Bombing run...has Atlas gone to area denial now?

...ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?! THOSE FUCKING FLYING JELLYFISH GRIMM CAN MELEE AIRSHIPS?! Can we just...how in the... (LONG SUFFERING SIGH OF MILTIARY FAN) Not...going to comment. MOVING ON.

Honestly that animation seems oddly...flat. Like they just did the bare minimum...the ship breaks cleanly too. ~12 or so bits in between its nose and tail section. Kinda reminds me of how the UNSC Savannah blows up after suffering a reactor breach in Halo Reach’s “Long Night of Solace” mission.

Yes, its too much Ruby. ITS WAR. Huntsmen and Atlas were not ready for it. Never have been. Welcome to the bloody grim fable.

Oh hi Willow, where did you come from. Also, vodka.  Wait. Generator near the-Oh, I bet I know where THIS is going...fuckin Five Nights style shit at this. Slash Jurrassic Park...

Whitley showing the first signs of being human...utilizing Atlas cargoships for evac. Nice. 

Shit, the storms spread across all of Atlas. How the hell are they gonna get out through that? Also DEF getting fuckin’ Jurrasic Park vibes here. 

Why does a power startup sequence take so long...

Oh so they can talk. Also Blake says “as a girl”. Soooo what, she thinks shes older than RWBY mentally? I mean maybe she is (she did kill a man) but whos counting?

Ladybug fans getting FED right now.

Hehe, the houses CANDLES are fed by the main power. How quaint.

YEP. Knew shit was gonna hit the fan. CONTACT. Hound

The chess set seems to have black loosing. Wonder if that means anything. Or if its just random.

Yep its the Hound. Knew it.

DID IT JUST ONESHOT RUBY’S AURA?! THE FUCK RT WHAT HAPPENED TO THAT BEING RESILIANT?!

Oh its trying to kidnap her. Also those wings just EXPLODED out of it. Must have learned from last time. No weird screaming noises.

DAMN THOUGH WEISS’S MOM GOT THAT CAKE! THICC SCHNEE ASS

WOOPS. No more booze for you Mrs Schnee

And Pennys back up and SHES NOT PLEASED.

Also I like how completely dead and robotic Penny is while hacked. It amuses me. Unfortunatly for Watts hacking something with MAIDEN POWERS doesnt seem to work too well. SURPRISE.

Oh and of course its got backup, DISRUPTING WEISS’S SUMMONING AGAIN

Ha, it thought Ruby was Penny. Lul. Makes sense, young girl, whatever.

Oh look, a Hydralisk. Or, Salems horrible attempt at making a Hydralisk. 

Hacking denied BY THE POWER OF BUTCH LESBIANS!

Willow having a panic attack, doesnt really surprise me. Then again she IS a Huntress, or was, maybe she’ll get over it.

Chandelier. Phantom of the Opera time?

Unsurprising twist is unsurprising...makes sense Whitley would get covered in that green shit.

Further proof to my theory the Hound is eyeless

And Willow doing her fucking job. NICE.

I know I should be worried for them while running but again, THAT SCHNEE ASS THOUGH GOOD LORD.

These bigger Grimm are getting smarter. They’re learning how to handle CQC. 

Target DOWN. Sadly, did not explode into showers of acid when Ruby cut it down.

Okay that was pretty cool with the arm. Always was a fan of “useless limbs only for smashing”.  Ah THERES the Silver Eyes. PROBABLY SHOULDNT HAVE TAKEN HER ROBOT WIFE PRISONER BIIITCCH.

Penny is just getting ALL KINDS of fucked up rn.

WELL THEN. The Hounds not ACTUALLY a Grimm. Just a parasite on a host. Salem couldnt get them smart enough by themselves (to no ones surprise, they’re completely SHIT in terms of actual lethality) so she steals a...faunus of some kind looks like. And just makes him wear a Grimm suit. Useful. Good to know.

Also this episode has been making excessive use of sweat drops. Did they get that figured out or what

HA! Grimm dont handle physics well do they!

The Grimm arm that results looks like Cinders. Intentional, Im compleretly sure. Also the fact theres bone underneath proves to me more what I thought. Its just a host. 

How...UNIMPRESSIVE.

However the fact that the bones have TWISTED and resulted in the Hounds form is...interesting. Unless those were there first (and they seem to be as they last past the Hound vanishing)...was that a secondary feature? He had the ears...

We’ll probably never know.

Ah so it WAS Cinder breaking in. To get Watts most likely.

Kinda feel bad for these three troopers. Shoulda brought shotguns, boi.

Fucking moron with a rocket launcher. WHY is he firing this thing INSIDE? Against a humanoid target? Though it is nice to know that Atlas does in fact have rocket launchers.

And now, Episode 9

...wow, way to start us off. Field littered with dead Atlas troopers. Yeah MAYBE IF YOU HAD SOME DEFENSIVE POSITIONS buddy...least they still got fire from the Paladins.

You know this kinda feels like an Imperial Guard moment. Point made, RT.

Also those Mantas peeled off without DOING anything. Least you could do is drop some ordinance...

Wait I t hink they did...also, for about 2 seconds you can see the silverfish Grimm that won that contest.

Alright, so RJY is inside the whale now. Good. 

Good question Yang. Probably cause you dont really have any other options?

I feel like Jaunes hair has become less plant-like and more realistic.

New fairy tale; The Girl who Fell Through The World. Interesting. Wonder if thats in the book somewhere.

So hes got access to magic but it makes them fuse faster. Alright, cool. Nice limitation.

...my god. Trenches. Standing formation. HUNTERS IN ARMOR?!

Its...its beautiful. Its everything Ive ever wanted! Seriously you HAVE to see this.

Just look at it. The lights, the Mantas in he background, the fact that FNKI is there and WEARING ARMOR!  Neon in her skates with weapon at the ready, everyone else standing firm, winter Walking the trench line like shes fucking Commissar Vale...

Its. Just. SO. GOOD.

And then they rush to glorious battle moments later. OH YES PLEASE

“Right now, just kill Grimm.” PERFECT

Hazel short-walking amuses me to no end.

Hazel has “II” in roman numerals on his arm band. I doubt it means anything but its funny

Spontanious Emerald is spontanious. And convinenent. 

Glowy blue titty woman yeahhhhhh

And there goes Hazel with his change of heart. Been good knowing you pal...I can guess where THIS is going.

Oscar is distracted by the big glowy milkys.

Also; Neo can...thats most interesting. Fully camoflauged. USEFUL. And of course you can see her ass for ONE SECOND and I bet the FANDOMS HAVING FUN WITH THAT

If Yang wasnt afraid right now I’d be very surprised.

Random floating Seer as well.

MAN THERE IS JUST TOO MUCH FUCKING CONVENIENCE GOING ON RIGHT NOW LIKE

I get it.  Nice to see things not going according to plan for Salem exactly but 

Ehh.

Hahaha. Juan. Bro doesnt even remember Jaunes name.  Also that short section of fight is magnificent. This is what I have always imagined the HKs being like.

CLEVER. Nice work Emerald.

Also uhhh...dont need no semblance ot see THAT Ren, she got that confused scared face right on there.

Tsundere Emerald continues

Also, the fact that all the troops stand in line around the bomb when it arrives amuses me. Like, yes, we must worship this tool of horror we have created.

Timer...ohhhhh thats gonna end poorly. WHY AM I GETTING SHADES OF LONG NIGHT OF SOLACE AGAIN?

Did Salem straight up make a door right through the wall? With a perfectly good one behind her? God damn.

Also on that subject uhhhhh off the walls guys, not to hard. Landing strats right?

OH NO WAIT FIGHT TIME.

Magic still doesnt seem impressive to me. Just...mildly forceful. Yeah it whacked Jaune and Ren off their feet but

Still. No 40k psyker is she.

Ohh ho. OH THATS NICE

Also Yang punched her titty. That is hilarious to me.

 BREAK, BITCH! SUFFER AND SHATTER!  In the words of the Chaplain Grimaldus; “BURN HERETIC!”

Addit; First time we see her regeneration. Seems its literally anything, she pulls herself back together using Grimm bits. Obviously shes not fully human considering that blast Yang hit her with should have liquified her organs. Makes SENSE of course.

Okay, magic seems to kinda work, she didnt like that much.

I paused at the perfect time and Yangs ass is riiigghhhttt at Oscars crotch more or less. Unintentional I know but its funny to me.

Also those sigils...like Weiss’s glyphs perhaps?

Huh. Two kinds of magic. The bright sunshiny ranbow one she used to hit Ren and Jaune, and now this void looking shadowy stuff.  So...two kinds perhaps? Creation and Destruction or...light and dark maybe is more accurate.  Makes SENSE, shes studied in both and uses both. All aspects.

Okay NOW Im seeing why RT got Jen Taylor to do Salem. We jussttt had to wait to the point she got mad enough to really start showing off.

Also Salem seems oddly unconvinced about Summer.

Awww, Emeralds crying. HOW PATHETIC

Someones gotta distract her...well this works. Again, RIP Hazel, you were pretty cool.

Homie goin ALL out on this. YEAH!

Okay, magic seems to be both, she has the void walker balls shooting rainbow light...

I like how casually Salem takes it. Seeing that Grimm ichor splatter was REAL nice though

IMMOLATIOIN OH YESSSS

Good, SHE DOES BURN!

Awwww. And it ends there. Of course it does.

Well hey maybe hes NOT dead. Albiet that looked like him passing out/getting strangled so who knows. Good news; Salem burns just like anyone else. If it feels pain you can kill it

And thats this weeks!

[carewyncromwell]

[Carewyn hated going to Knockturn Alley. She always felt very unsafe there, not just because of her age but because of how small she was. (All of her friends towered over her as it was.) And even if Carewyn could dress well and act confident and she felt rather assured in her capability as a duelist, that didn’t change the fact that many of the people who swept around this area were Dark wizards. Carewyn could prepare all she wanted, but she was never not going to be nervous about that. She thought it’d be stupid to be anything otherwise.

When she caught sight of Ben, though, he seemed as arrogantly nonchalant as usual. He hadn’t even gone to the trouble of dressing to fit in with the Knockturn Alley crowd like Carewyn always did -- instead he was blatantly wearing his Gryffindor robes.]

That settles it. Ben is stupid.

[Pushing this very mean thought aside, Carewyn strolled up to him, coming to a stop about four feet away.]

[Ben turned to look at Carewyn. His eyes flickered over her briefly as he took in her different hair and make-up, but otherwise he seemed unsurprised to see her.]

Ben: “No, I’m here for something much more important -- answers.”

[Carewyn raised her eyebrows.]

“What answers?”

Ben: “About what Rakepick has been up to. About the final Cursed Vault.”

[Carewyn wanted to scream.

It was true that she herself was doing just that...but the whole reason why she had not told any of her friends that she was still searching for the Vault was because R had put a target on her back and had threatened her friends’ lives. She had lied and put on the act of trusting in the teachers and the Aurors in order to prevent anyone else from getting involved -- and now, like Merula, Ben was going bloody rogue and running stupidly into danger of his own accord! Out of his own choice! When just like Merula, he knew the danger they were in!]

Ben: “Searching around the castle hasn’t turned up much, so I thought I’d start here. I reckon at least one of these dodgy witches or wizards should know something -- I’ll just interrogate them to see what they know.”

[Perhaps because of how raw her heart was from dealing with Beatrice not too long ago, Carewyn’s voice turned much harder from the off-set. She didn’t want to completely lose her head again, so she had to make sure her anger was cold and coherent, not explosive and fragile.]

“Ben...this has gone far enough. Pinching things that aren’t yours is one thing -- but are you even listening to yourself right now? Threatening random Dark wizards and acting like you’re some big hot shot is a good way to get yourself hurt, or worse. I would’ve thought after what you and I experienced in that Vault, how close we all were to dying back there, you’d realize how dangerous this situation is. Instead you’re actively seeking that danger out -- acting like it’s nothing, without any care for the consequences...and for what? To prove yourself? You’d certainly prove something very different by getting yourself killed!”

[Carewyn wanted to believe there was some sort of softer emotion in Ben’s eyes -- was it disappointment? Pity? -- but it was gone so quickly that it very well could’ve been her imagination.]

Ben: “Carewyn, these lowlifes only respond to fear and money -- so unless you happen to have won the Daily Prophet Galleon Draw recently, this is the only option.”

“(harshly) No, it’s not.”

There is always a way. You never need to hurt people.

“The Aurors are already dealing with the Vault and Rakepick. They’ve got Mad-Eye Moody in charge of the task force. I daresay he could interrogate people here a lot better than we could.”

[Ben’s eyes narrowed, looking frustrated for the first time.]

Ben: “I’m not going to just sit around and wait for the Statue Curse to spread or for Rakepick to attack us again. I’m done reacting -- I’m taking action.”

[His brown eyes rippled with frustration, deepening into something else Carewyn couldn’t identify. Almost like...

“Well, for once, you both had been right!”

The memory of Merula snapping at her back at the Training Grounds returned to her. Her old rival’s pink gaze then had reminded Carewyn of how she felt while talking to Ben -- and now here Ben himself was, with such a similar gaze...

Carewyn’s glare faltered.]

What can you not say, Ben...?

[Unlike Merula or Carewyn, Ben’s muddled emotions didn’t leave his eyes even as he turned his back on Carewyn.]

Ben: “...Don’t try to stop me.”

[Ben strode off past Borgin and Burkes. Reaching an alley, he turned his head, clearly having spotted someone.]

[He took out his wand and brandished it threateningly.]

Ben: “...or else.”

[Carewyn had whipped out her own wand, ready to stop Ben and/or protect him from a counterattack, but the voice she heard was familiar enough that her panicked run quickly slowed to a much calmer jog. She faced the wizard with a very dull look.]

“Hello, Mundungus.”

[Ben looked at her, taken aback.]

Ben: “You know this dodgy wizard, Carewyn?”

“(coolly) Unfortunately. Still running away from people you’ve pickpocketed, Mundungus? I’m surprised you don’t have some other kid ‘mediating’ your disputes for you.”

Mundungus: “(mutters sourly) I don’ pickpocket -- I collect is all. And quit sayin’ me name so loud, Cromwell! I don’t want ‘im to know I’m here...”

[Despite how offended Mundugus was by Carewyn’s words, though, his body language was tense and hunched, like he was trying to hide.]

“Who?”

[For once, Mundungus appeared sincerely reluctant.]

Mundungus: “Trust me, missie, you don’ want to know. This one’s dangerous -- even compared to the lot ‘round these parts.”

[He then put on something of a tiny, seedy smile.]

Mundungus: “...O’ course if you’ve got some...financial incentive, I might be willing to -- “

Ben: “Bombarda!”

[Before Carewyn could do anything, Ben had blasted Mundungus backward, slamming him up into the opposite wall.]

“Ben!”

[Carewyn shot Ben a horrified, angry look over her shoulder, before dashing over to Mundungus.

Upon seeing that he was, in fact, not badly injured, Carewyn spoke to the shady wizard very coldly under her breath.]

“I’d recommend talking now, Fletcher. I’ve been studying Legilimency for over a year now -- I can always take the information I want, should you choose not to share it.”

[Carewyn would be hard-pressed to actually do it, but she knew it was a bluff she could back up if she really had to. She didn’t think it was likely Mundungus had studied Occlumency.

Mundungus could tell she wasn’t kidding. Clearly intimidated both by her threat and the aggressiveness of Ben’s assault, he replied in an over-the-top attempt at charm that badly masked his utter cowardice.]

Mundungus: “On second thought...I’m feeling generous. I’ll tell you everythin’ I know, free o’ charge!”

[He glanced around furtively.]

Mundungus: “It’s...this wizard. A wizard in white robes.”

[A ping of deja vu poked at the back of Carewyn’s mind.]

“She said that he’d used incantations you’ve never heard before.”

Mundungus: “Anyway, he’s come back to Knockturn Alley, prowling around all brazen-like. Some folks think maybe he’s looking for something -- others say it’s someone -- but everyone’s kind of given him some distance. He’s not someone you want to mess with.”

“(surmises) So you’re hiding out until he leaves.”

Mundungus: “‘Idin’ out? Nah, I’m...I’m just layin’ low, for me own self-preservation. I’d rather not remind ‘im that I ‘ave some of his valuables...”

Ben: “You stole from him?”

Mundungus: “I wouldn’t call it stealin’, it’s more...relievin’ ‘im o’ the burden o’ -- “

“(very dully) Yes, he stole from him.”

Mundungus: “(with a scowl) Harsh, Cromwell. Now if you don’ mind, I have to get back to ‘idi -- I mean, layin’ low.”

[As Mundungus retreated, Carewyn turned on Ben, her eyes both worried and very reproachful behind her sunglasses.]

[But Ben once again seemed unfazed.]

Ben: “I wouldn’t call that ‘lucky.’ Codger knew nothing about Rakepick or the Cursed Vault.”

[Carewyn felt her temper rising. She wanted to yell at Ben -- say she absolutely forbid him from getting involved, that she was not going to watch him throw himself into danger when R had no reason to go after him -- that she couldn’t protect him from R, if he acted like this -- that she didn’t want him to end up like Duncan --

Knowing that she’d open herself up too much and expose too many of the fears and insecurities she so fiercely guarded if she said any of this, however...Carewyn merely pursed her lips and glared reproachfully at Ben.]

“...We will discuss this later. In the meantime, I do not want to hear about you having threatened or picking fights with anyone else -- have I made myself clear?”

[Ben glanced away irritably.]

[The response should’ve been a gibe, but Carewyn didn’t rise to it. She instead slid off her sunglasses and looked Ben straight on in the eye, almost seeming as undaunted as he’d been.]

“That’s my boy.”

[Her voice could’ve been taunting, but despite its coolness, there was still a very serious, cutting edge to it.]

‘Mum’ is not an insult to me. Someone needs to look after you...

[With that, she brushed past Ben and left Knockturn Alley.]

((OOC: *giggles* Mama-Bear!Carewyn strikes again!

Height-wise Carewyn is 5′3″. The only person in her year I headcanon as shorter than her is Merula (5′2″) -- the people closest to her height-wise are Chiara and Penny (5′4″) and Charlie (5′5″). I like imagining Ben having grown quite a bit, starting off exactly Carewyn’s height as a first year, growing a bit more every year, and then shooting up like a bean pole in the summer before  sixth year. XD))

[angrylizardjacket]

don’t @ me {Joe Mazzello}

Anon asked: Hi there! You write the best imagines and your my favorite queen blog 💛 if you're not too busy I'd like to request something? Idk something with Joe and like your dating and the whole cardboard ben thing is playing out and the reader is playing along in the comments and stuff idk I just really need some dorky Joe fluff please and thank you for your time! 😊

Anon asked: please write a joe mazzello imagine one day soon !!

A/N: 1781 words. Anon, today is that day. Joe is v cute and I love him but also this video gives me mad anxiety for reason’s I’m not 100% sure about, but nyways i watched it like 12 times. I know very little about press tours and who goes on them, I also know very little about Joe, but I tried! Suspend your disbelief.

“Why do you have a cuttout of Ben?” It’s breakfast, and far too early to be met with the frozen stare of a cardboard version of Ben Hardy staring at you across the kitchen table. He’s there anyways, propped up in an unoccupied seat, silently judging you as you drink your tea.

“Because he can’t make it on the press tour.” Joe tells you, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, moving about the kitchen, fixing himself breakfast.

“He’s watching me.” The cardboard Ben’s stare is unbroken and unnerving. You stand abruptly, moving it from it’s place at the table, so it was looking at the wall, and you hear Joe laugh behind you. “He’s creepy,” you insist, but he doesn’t disagree with you.

“Ben’ll be heartbroken.” Joe’s taken your seat, and so you sit in the one you’d just freed up, pulling your drink across the table, taking a long sip before giving Joe a long suffering smile.

“Honey, I don’t think real-Ben is going to care about what I think of his cardboard double.” You told him, and Joe raised his eyebrows in mock surprise.

“Oh, yeah no, he won’t care, he might be offended you called him creepy,” he talked over your objections with a smile, “but you’ve hurt poor Ben Cardy’s feelings, babe.” Gesturing to the cardboard behind you, trying not to grin if the edges of his lips twitching gave anything away.

“Ben Cardy?” You repeated, disbelieving. He just raised his eyebrows at the thing behind you. You turned around, suspicious, and still a little on edge from the new arrival. It had not moved. Thank God. Joe just laughs.

Cardboard Ben becomes a hit on social media, a fact that was unsurprising to you; something that obviously memetic with all the boys’ support behind it was bound to take off. Now that you were used to it (him?) you thought it was pretty damn funny.

“Oh, what about one of us at the piano.” Rami’s eyes had lit up at the sight of the Bohemian Rhapsody piano, and Joe, who had been handed the crown from the the publicist to take some promotional shots of the cast at this screening, propped up Cardboard Ben behind the piano.

Rolling your eyes at the shenanigans, you obligingly wait for Joe  to put the crown on and situate himself on Rami’s lap before taking the photo. Passing the phone back, you take the crown from him, wearing it while you collected Cardboard Ben.

“You look good like that.” You’re trying to fold the cutout so you could carry it under your arm when you hear Joe’s voice. Looking up, he’s smiling at you, phone in his hands like he’s halfway through writing something on it. At your confused look, his smile widens just a little more and he looks to the crown sitting on your head. It had been heavy before, on your head out of ease rather than comfort, but under his admiring gaze it feels as light as air.

“Strap in Ben, mate.” The video, hand-held and shot on Gwilym’s phone, shows Joe leaning across the back set of a nice-looking car, trying to buckle in Cadrboard Ben, who was had a checkered scarf wrapped around his neck.

“Don’t make it too tight!” Your voice can be heard from off camera, clearly trying not to laugh, and in the brief moment Joe looks to you, he’s grinning brightly, assuring you he wouldn’t, before turning back and finally clipping in the belt buckle.

You sit beside Joe in the back seat once the video’s been posted, with him in the middle, Cardboard Ben still strapped in on his other side. All of you in the car, that is all of you who weren’t driving or cardboard, were on Instagram, replying to the comments, having a laugh as you rewatched the video a few times.

@.username1: i wish someone would love me like they love that cut out

@.username2: even @.YourInstagramHandle worries about him 😍😍

@.YourInstagramHandle: @.username2 i’m just worried about what happens if he’s not buckled in 😬😬

@.benhardy1: @.YourInstagramHandle im glad you and @.joe_mazzello are keeping me safe

@.joe_mazzello: @.benhardy1 always, buddy!

@.YourInstagramHandle 😬😬

Gwylim, from the front seat, can hear you laughing, and when he turns back, you’re leaning against Joe and the two of your are looking at your phones, wearing identical mischievous grins. When he posts a photo of the two of you beside a still buckled in cut out, to said cut-out’s instagram story, he captions it ‘I feel like I’m 3rd wheeling here.... @.YourInstagramHandle @.joe_mazzello’. 

Everyone loves the joke, and since no-one’s really sure where the Real Ben is, you can all keep getting away with it. With everyone playing along, it becomes a quickly growing phenomena, which comes to an interesting pinnacle on Thursday, November 15th.

“So I’ve had an idea.” Joe looked at you where you were scrolling through Instagram on your phone with one hand, sipping a drink in the other. You hadn’t kept Cardboard Ben in your hotel room since the start of the tour, which you were thankful for, but it seemed to be your turn. It still unnerved you, but it was currently facing the wall, and not staring unblinkingly at you, which you were thankful for.

Humming in both question, and recognition of the statement, you look to see him suppressing a smile. He starts explaining his idea for a video, of waking up next to the cardboard cut out, and you know that your expression is one of dawning horror, though that only seems to inspire him further.

“That sounds ridiculous.” You admit once he’s finished, and he actually laughs.

“I know, but it’s- it’s funny, come on.” And his earnest enjoyment from the concept has you cracking, a smile spreading over your face, unable to help the laughter that escaped you.

“That you fucked Cardboard Ben?” You asked, putting your tea down and raising your eyebrows at him.

“Yes!” He insisted, and despite your eye roll, you were grinning, already moving to collect the cut out.

“Where do you want him?” You asked, and Joe’s smile brightened, before he wiggled his eyebrows. “This is already weird enough; just tell me where you want him.” You moved to the bed, pulling back the covers to put the cardboard figure in the bed.

“Perfect, perfect!” Joe seemed ecstatic as you pulled the covers back up, leaving Cardboard Ben in bed.

“Do you want me to tuck you in, too?” You asked, raising a single eyebrow, voice faux sweet as you picked up your tea and stepped away from the bed. Giving you a sunny smile, he ignored the sarcasm and informed you that he’d probably be alright, pulling out his phone.

Leaning against the wall where you had just taken Cardboard Ben from, you watch in amusement as he begins to film, pretending to wake up, before turning both himself and the camera so that he caught sight of the cardboard. Instead, he caught sight of your fond but amused expression, and he was lost for a moment.

“Don’t look at me like that.” He admonished, though he was smiling a little softer than before. 

“Like what?” You asked, half laughing, and Joe just shook his head, a little disbelieving, before turning back over and starting the video again. When he turns back, you’ve got your own phone out, and are taking a photo of the situation, to which he laughs.

‘@.benhardy1 aka Mr Steal Yo Man’ you captioned the photo on your instagram story. With you focused on your own phone, Joe managed to film most of his video before you heard him talk about how Cardboard Ben was already dressed, and you lost it, barking out a laugh and interrupting his filming.

“Sorry, sorry, sorry!” You apologised profusely through giggles, though Joe too broke into a grin, stopping the recording. “I’ll go into the next room.” Stepping through to the main room, you waited by the doorframe as you listened to your boyfriend pretend to wake up next to a cardboard cut out of one of his co-stars. As soon as he muttered about knowing that he’d call, there’s a long paused, and then he snorts out a laugh, and you’re pretty sure it’s safe to go back in.

He’s grinning, sitting against the headboard and you can hear his rough, sleepy voice coming through the speakers of his phone. Cardboard Ben is still where you left him, looking up at the roof.

“Is it good?” You asked, and he hummed thoughtfully, still amused at his own antics.

“It’s not terrible,” he admitted, “I think it’s funny.” And he passed the phone over to let you watch it, and you slid yourself into the bed beside Cardboard Ben. It was funny, you’d give him that, and you passed the phone back to let him finish adding tags and posting the video. As the video went live, a thought occurred to you, something that amused you to no end.

“Hey, come here, I wanna get a photo of the three of us.” You grinned, sliding down under the covers until they came up to your shoulders, then holding up your phone so you could catch yourself, Joe, and the cut out in the photo.

The shot was staged so that Joe and the cut out looked into the camera, Joe looking a little concerned, while you looked off to the side, expression clearly uncomfortable. You added the photo to your instagram story with a simple ‘😮’ as the caption, tagging both Joe and Ben in it.

“It still creeps me out.” You admitted, pulling the cardboard cut out from the bed and putting it face-down on the floor, moving to rest against Joe, still sitting in bed. He wrapped an arm around you.

“Yeah, but you’re a good sport about it.” He pressed a kiss to the edge of your forehead, scrolling through the comments that were flooding in already on his video.

“Of course, I love you, Joe, I’ll always play along.” You tucked yourself up closer to him, going through your own feed with mild interest. He gives you a soft squeeze, and when you look at him, he’s smiling fondly down at you, a look so full of love and adoration that it makes your heart melt a little. “It’s- it’s just a cut out, I mean.” You flush under his gaze, ducking your head to avoid the softness of his smile and how it made a warmth bloom in your chest.

“No, I know.” He laughed gently, going back to his phone. “I just love you too.”

[our-smooty]

Take Me to Church - Chapter 22: Expectations

Fandom: Gorillaz

Rating: Explicit

Relationships: 2doc

Tags: Car Accidents Angst Hurt/Comfort Drugs/Alcohol Implied/Referenced Suicide SuicideHealing Everything Hurts

Summary: The band is back together, but things are… weird to say the least. But when a crisis arises, can they pull it all together and be a family again?

Link to other Chapters on my Blog!

1 Week Later - The First Session - Murdoc

“So uh, yeah. Guess that’s about it.”

The therapist in front of him was still writing. She’d been diligently taking notes through his entire abridged personal history, jotting down each and every high and low point. So far therapy was nothing like he thought it would be.

“OK… so you said you’ve had mental health treatment before?” she asked after a moment. Murdoc nodded.

“The other times were all in prison though, if that makes any difference, luv,” he answered. She looked up at him and smiled. He resisted the urge to look away.

“I assure you, Murdoc, that you’ll find my methods to be significantly different from those in most correctional facilities,” she told him. He tried not to look too relieved. “I’d like to begin by asking you what you want to get out of therapy.”

He paused. What did she want him to say? “I assume you heard all that from 2D already.”

“But I’d like to hear what you want Murdoc, not what Stuart wants,” she shot back with a grin. Murdoc laughed dryly. Where had 2D found this one, then?

“What I want is a bottle of--” His therapist shot him a withering look, and he sobered up. “Fine. I uh, I jus’ want to be… Less of a prick?”

He watched her write down “less of a prick” with a sort of cognitive dissonance. “Anything else?”

“I’ve got--” his voice was shaky and quick like if he didn’t hurry and spit the words out he’d never do it. “I’ve got stuff, in my head. I-I’d like to get a handle on that.”

“What kind of stuff, Murdoc?” she asked, still writing. Fucking hell this therapy thing was going to be harder than he thought, wasn’t it?

“Sometimes I do things, and I don’t really know why. O-or I’ll be feelin’ a certain way for no reason.”

“And you’d like to understand that?” she finished for him. Murdoc nodded again, not making eye contact. His nails found purchase in the soft material of the armchair while his knees bounced. The room felt warm and his skin felt too tight. “Alright. Those are both great goals, and they’ll help me tailor your treatment appropriately.”

He grunted in response. The room was quiet again before she put down her pen and faced him directly. “I want you to know, Murdoc, that it’s very brave of you to seek therapy for your problems.”

He scoffed. “Only took a few decades.”

“What matters is you’re here now, and we can begin to work on things together.” She handed him a booklet from her desk. “I want you to take this, and read it over before our next meeting.”

The booklet was thin, with a cover full of smiling people. The title read, “PTSD: Signs and Treatment.” Murdoc swallowed hard.

“I also want to go over a few grounding techniques with you today, before our session ends. Does that sound alright?” He was still staring down at the booklet, hands trembling slightly. With great difficulty, he nodded and sat up straighter. He could this, he had to.

Thirty minutes and a great deal of deep breathing later, Murdoc was walking out of the office. He paid the lady at the desk and set up another appointment for a week later at his therapist's suggestion. Every movement he made felt far away and floaty. Kind of like being drunk without the warm sense of security.

His daze was broken when he felt his phone vibrating in his pocket. Suddenly he realized he was outside the doctor's office building, smoking a cigarette he had no memory of lighting. Checking the text, he was unsurprised to see it was 2D.

im in the car outside

text me when ur done

I got coffee

Murdoc knew 2D was nervous about the first session. He’d already seen their therapist last week, but this was the first time Murdoc had gone. After a few sessions alone, they’d agreed to have one together, the cycle repeating indefinitely. Or until they didn’t need to see the therapist anymore, though Murdoc wasn’t hopeful that’d be any time soon.

Honestly, the bassist had wanted to drive himself to the appointment. It’d give him time to himself to process the session figure out how he felt about everything they talked about. But Stuart had insisted on driving Murdoc there and picking him up like a chauffeur. He was probably afraid Murdoc would flake out and just not show up.

I’m done.

He sent the text to 2D and took a seat on the curb. Lighting another fag and taking a deep, calming drag, Murdoc tried to center himself. He hadn’t had to go over all (or most, at least) of the nitty-gritty details of his life in a long time, maybe ever. It set him on edge, knowing the things he told an almost complete stranger, willingly.

By the time he finished his smoke, 2D was pulling into the parking lot. It didn’t take very long and Murdoc had the sneaking suspicion that the singer hadn’t even gone all the way home. He didn’t feel like making a scene though. To be honest, he was mostly just tired. When Stu stopped in front of him he quickly got in, sinking down in the seat with a sigh.

“Alright?” Stu asked, pulling out of the parking lot. “Your coffee’s in front.”

Murdoc grabbed his drink with a thankful nod. “Thanks.”

The car was quiet for a moment before 2D spoke again. “So, how did it go?”

“Fine.” Murdoc really, really didn’t feel up to talking about his session now. Not even the coffee could hold off the exhaustion that was slowly settling over him.

Again, there was a pause. 2D’s fingers tapped against the steering wheel in nervous patterns. Murdoc tried to ignore it.

“Are you sure?” Satan, the singer wasn’t going to give up, was he? Murdoc sighed, realizing he wasn’t being fair to the younger man. 2D was a worrier, it was one of the things that made him so charming.

“It was fine, D. I’m just… tired now,” he answered. Stu visibly relaxed and shot Murdoc an understanding smile. It didn’t make Murdoc feel sick, so he took that as a sign the therapy was working.

“I get it, Muds. Why don’t you take a nap and I’ll wake you up when we get home?” The relief he felt was definitely a little embarrassing, but he was too worn out to care. Instead and turned on his side towards the window and shut his eyes. In the background, he could hear the soft sounds of the radio show 2D had on, and the rumbling of the tired against the tarmac. It wasn’t ideal for sleeping, but for once exhaustion was working in his favour, and he quickly nodded off against the stained seat.

2D drove them home with no problem. He’d worked as a driving instructor after all. At the very least his track record was better than Murdoc’s, and he was glad the bassist hadn’t insisted on driving them.

His eyes briefly glanced over to his sleeping partner. Murdoc had looked so drained when he first got in the car that Stu had been worried. But his therapist had asked him to work on avoiding quizzing the bassist on his every move. He knew that it wasn’t helpful and that half the time Murdoc didn’t know why he did what he did, but he was just so scared the older man would do something stupid, or get hurt, or--

He clenched his fingers around the steering wheel. That was another thing he needed to get a handle on. Because of his less than stellar past experiences with Murdoc, he tended to disasterize everything he was involved in. It was hard to stop himself, but if he was going to date the bassist, he had to try.

They pulled into the driveway of Wobble Street around 10 minutes later. 2D was feeling a lot calmer, the simple task of driving along familiar roads helped to wind down his brain. Murdoc was still sleeping, hunched up and drooling a little. Honestly, if it wasn’t freezing outside, he would have left Murdoc to sleep. But he didn’t want his boyfriend to freeze, so he carefully reached over and brushed his fingers through the other’s hair.

“We’re here, love,” he murmured, running the tips of his fingers down the angle of Murdoc’s cheek and jaw. The bassist scrunched his nose in irritation but still leaned into the touch. “Come’on, let’s get inside before my fuckin’ knob freezes off.”

Murdoc chuckled a little at that. “Don’t be crass.”

“Mmm I’ll show you crass later if you’re lucky,” 2D teased, getting out of the car himself and unlocking the front door. Murdoc was close behind.

“Hurry up, Stu. I need a drink,” the bassist griped. When they got inside he headed straight for the kitchen and the liquor cabinet. Stu wanted to be mad, but he knew Murdoc was struggling to cope the only way he knew how. Not that the singer could judge him, he’d finally been confronted with the reality of his pain-pill addiction when he ran out last week. With everything going on he’d allowed all his prescriptions to lapse. Luckily Murdoc was still able to write prescriptions with his degree and get the singer some before he went into withdrawal.

“Don’t spoil your dinner, Muds. Russel said he was going to make that mac and cheese recipe he found the other day.”

Murdoc ignored him, instead pulling out a bottle of dark liquor and a cup. To Stu’s surprise, he poured himself a glass and set the bottle back on the shelf. He raised his glass to 2D and took a sip, eyes falling shut.

“Ahh, that’s the stuff. Good year, this is.” He swirled it around in the glass, focusing on the light glinting off the alcohol. “Did you have any plans for the rest of the day?”

It was hard not to smile at his obviousness. “No, I don’t have any plans.” 2D watched as Murdoc slowly looked up to meet his eyes, a nearly invisible smile on his lips.

“D’you want to uh, watch TV, or somthin’?”

The Second Session - Murdoc

“... I don’t know why I did it.”

His therapist--he knew her name, but he felt weird using it--waited for him to continue. “I didn’t buy the place with the intention of everythin’ going so wrong.”

“Then why did you buy Plastic Beach, Murdoc?”

The Satanist thought back through the haze of alcohol and mental instability. “Well, it was the furthest place on Earth from anywhere else. Figured I could get some peace and quiet, after the uh, incident with Noodle.”

She jotted a few things down, going over the thing’s he’d told her before. “But you made yourself a companion, and you brought Stuart there.”

“The Cyborg doesn’t count. It couldn’t even talk, really. And I don’t rightly know how 2D got there,” he admitted. “Maybe it was me who kidnapped him, maybe it wasn’t. If I did, I don’t know how or why.”

“How long did you spend alone on the island?” Murdoc had a feeling she was leading him somewhere.

“6 months,” he answered quietly. They’d been 6 of the worst month of his life. At first, he’d been fine on his own, hosting his radio show, sprucing up the island. But slowly, surely, the guilt over El Manyana had eaten away at his mind until there was nearly nothing left.

“That’s a very long time to be alone, Murdoc. It must have been hard.”

He was getting worked up. There was tension in his shoulder and a sort of tingling in his fingers that meant he was holding on to the arms of the chair too tightly. Small things he wouldn’t have noticed before his therapist started pointing them out. Knowing the signs made it easier for him to head off his panic and calm down.

“It was,” he said after a deep breath. “It was jus’ me and my thoughts. I think I went a little mad, to be honest.”

“You had been through a traumatic experience and were experiencing the symptoms of PTSD, Murdoc. Those things were out of your control.” Except they weren’t. He’d caused the whole El Manyana thing without a doubt. His signature was on all the preplanning paperwork for the shoot.

“It was me who put her on that blasted flying island. It was me who put her in danger in the first place.”

“Have you ever asked Noodle how she feels about it?” Murdoc thought back. There hadn’t really been any time after the raid on Plastic Beach, and then they’d split up again. When they all got together at Wobble Street he’d started isolating himself in his room and avoided talking to anyone.

“No. Probably never really apologized either.” She nodded and waited again. Murdoc knew she wanted him to say more.

“You could go visit her. 2D said that he and Russel go quite often.” She already knew he hadn’t been going to visit Noodle, and what had happened the last time he’d tried.

“You know why I can’t.”

Their session was nearly over, and unease was starting to set in. Every week at the end she’d give him something to work on, and report back with the next week. The first time, it had been breathing, the second had been letting 2D know how he was feeling. He had an idea of what this week's might be.

“Why don’t you try writing her a note, and having one of the other’s delivering it to her. I know Stuart said she’s recovered enough to be interacting with her cellphone again,” she suggested. Instantly he paled and began to sweat.

“I-I don’t know what I’d say…” he stuttered. His therapist nodded as if she’d expected his response.

“You don’t have to start off with the big stuff. Why not tell her about your day, or what you want to do when she comes home?”

It sounded impossibly terrifying. But he’d try. Maybe Stu could help him write it up, the idiot was always good with writing sappy shite.

“Fine. I’ll g-give it a go. No promises though,” he added as an afterthought. She smiled knowingly.

“Trying is all I ask Murdoc. It looks like our time is up, however. I’ll see you next week then.”

He left the session feeling strange. In some ways, he was hopeful that he might be able to repair his relationship with Noodle and begin to process of getting better--whatever that meant. But in other ways, he was nearly paralyzed with the fear that that was impossible. Murdoc could feel himself begin to shake as he left the office. Not even the cool air could snap him out of it.

Come get me

All he could think about was getting somewhere safe where he could break down in private. With shaky hands he lit a smoke and practically inhaled it. In just a few moments it was down to the filter and he pulled it from his lips, watching the cherry die. In a split second action, he ground the ember against his other wrist. The burning centred him.

“Murdoc!” The twangy voice of his singer startled him out of his daze. Murdoc immediately dropped the butt and tamped it out. 2D was smiling at him from the driver's side and Murdoc was infinitely grateful that the singer hadn’t seen what he’d just done. Pulling his sleeve over burn he stalked over to the passenger side and got in.

“You’re shakin’ Muds,” the other said. 2D put the car in park and pulled the handbrake, twisting to face the bassist. Murdoc clenched his teeth to prevent himself from snapping at the singer to just drive. “D’you wanna talk about it?”

If he started talking about it he knew he’d start crying. And he really didn’t feel like crying in a parking lot in the middle of London. “Can we jus'... go home?”

2D shrugged. Murdoc focused on the way the seat felt against his back and how the heated air pumping from the dash was drying out his skin. It was hard to pull himself into the moment, to keep centred in the here and now instead of wallowing in the past. Memories of all the shitty things he had to make up for were piling up against his internal dam, nearly breaking through. Just as he felt himself slipping under the surface, 2D reached out and put his hand on Murdoc’s knee.

“We’ll be home soon,” he said with a reassuring smile. Murdoc covered the hand with his own and squeezed. He was here, he was with 2D, he was trying.

He was trying.

The Third Session - Murdoc

“--and I don’t bloody know what he expects! I told him! I told him to give me time and he--”

Murdoc was ranting as he paced back and forth in front of his therapist. He was completely incensed, beyond reason with anger and frustration. He did everything he was supposed to! The letter to Noodle took him hours to write--and tens of different version to get right--and that wasn’t even the worst part. The worst part was that he had to give it to 2D to give to Noodle, then wait for a reply. The entire process had been nearly too much for the bassist, but he’d done it.

And that sodding idiot Stuart had the nerve to tell him he wasn’t trying hard enough. That he wasn’t making progress.

“I-I though’ I was doin’ everythin’ he wanted me to!” he shouted, grabbing his hair and tugging as he paced. His therapist had been quiet from the moment he stepped into the office, letting him scream and vent as much as he needed to. She knew he’d run out of steam eventually, Murdoc’s anger was shallow but fierce when I came to his partner.

“Murdoc, could you try some of those breathing exercises we’ve been practising?” she asked gently. Until she pointed it out he hadn’t realized that he was wheezing, his chest tight with stress. Focusing on the rise and fall of his chest, Murdoc took a deep breath in through his mouth, then exhaled.

“Thank you. Now, could you tell me what exactly, 2D said that made you feel like his?”

Murdoc was still angry, his fists clenched tight enough that his nails were biting into his palm. He took a few more seconds, then sat in the chair opposite. “He’s been at me all week. ‘Oh Murdoc, yer drinkin’ too much!’, and ‘oi Muds, yew neva’ tell me how yer doin’!’,” he said, doing an impression of 2D.

“But I have been tellin’ him how I’m feelin’!” he continued. By now he was curled forward on the edge of his chair, fingers knitted behind his neck.

“Did you tell him that you felt that way?” she asked. Somehow it always felt like she was one step ahead of him, leading him to his own conclusions.

“I tried, at first. I don’t think he believed me when I said I was ‘fine’. But I really was!” He really had been doing alright a few times this week. But every time he answered that way, 2D would frown a little, like he thought the bassist was lying.

“And I’ll admit,” he said slowly, “I have been drinkin’ about the same as I always have. But I wasn’t passed out in the livin’ room or nothin’. But there he was every time I took a drink, frownin’ and grumblin’.”

“Thank you for being honest about your alcohol consumption, Murdoc,” his therapist said as he caught his breath again. Every time he got going the anger and anxiety would ramp up again, strangling him. “Can you explain how 2D’s actions made you feel?”

A brief pause. “He made me feel… I felt ignored. A-and like he was treatin’ me like I’m some fragile fuckin--gah!”

He jumped up to his feet again, restarting his journey from wall to wall. “I don’t soddin’ need his pity. Pity never got me anywhere, didn’t put food on the table or stop all those peop--” There were tears running down his face now, without his permission. He wiped them angrily. This wasn’t the first time he’d cried during a session, but it never got less humiliating.

“I am t-tryin’, I am,” he said, his voice choked. “He makes me f-feel like I’m n-not doin’ well enough. Like I’m never enough.”

“Can you focus on that?” she cut in. “Focus on where that feeling is coming from?”

He tried, he really did. But there wasn’t just one specific cause. There had never been a point in his life where he didn’t feel inadequate, didn’t feel like he wasn’t meeting expectations. Whose expectations? Murdoc had no idea.  He overcompensated with a loud and abrasive personality to cover up the insecurities underneath. It was easy to see why, after years of struggling with these feelings, it’s been so easy for 2D’s concern to drive him to the breaking point.

And he knew 2D cared about him, he really did. He didn't think the poor sod had it in him to lie about something like that. But he was so scared that if he didn't meet 2D's expectations 100% of the time, the singer would realize what a waste of time being with someone like Murdoc was. Fuck, he realized, he'd done it again.

“I-I--” he stuttered, running a hand down his face. “Fuck. I-I have to apologize to Stu.”

“For what?”

Murdoc was already grabbing his coat and throwing it on. “I was blamin’ him for somethin’ that wasn’t all his fault, as usual.” He had a hand on the door when he turned back to his therapist, still sitting in her chair.

“Uh, same time next week?” he asked. She nodded with a  slight smile and waved him out. Murdoc left the session feeling like he’d had some sort of breakthrough, though he couldn’t for the life of him figure out what it was.

[snekblr]

Here’s a failed attempt at an angst fic, enjoy because i havent written in like 5 years

CW: a n g s t (maybe)

Rating: G-T?

“Hey did you hear? That grey-haired transfer kid left Inaba a few days ago.”

“Is that so? He arrived just as abruptly as he left, why come when you’re gonna leave so soon anyway?”

Yosuke increased the volume of his mp3 player. The last thing he needed to be reminded of right now was the fact that his partner wasn’t here anymore. He searched for his name in the newly posted class roster and headed to class 3-2, ignoring a student with the name of Souji Seta being crossed out at the bottom of the list.

Classes weren’t bad. They were just so frustratingly boring that it makes you want to rip your hair off and regrow them just to rip them off again. Yosuke was preoccupied with random thoughts about anything remotely interesting as an attempt to stay awake from the curse of a sleep-inducing lecture.

“Hanamura-kun! I bet you’re not listening,give me the answer for question 3!”

That definitely caught him off-guard. As a reflex, the brunette leaned forward and whispered to the student seated in front of him.

“Hey sou-“

Wait. That’s not Souji.

Yosuke tried to calm down and glanced through the question written on the board. Hold on, this question seems familiar, he came across it while studying with Souji last year. “um...Mt. Olympus...?”he squeaked nervously.

“Good try Hanamura-kun but I was asking about the tallest mountain in Malaysia. Pay attention next time,”the teacher scoffed while resuming his lesson.

‘Oh crap. Where the fuck is Malaysia anyway,’ Yosuke mumbled while he overheard his classmates whispering to one another.

“Looks like he really is a disappointment, why did that...guy...Seta-san hang out with him anyway? Seta is way cooler than he is!”

“Wow he can’t even answer that? I guess Junes is the only thing he’s good for. “

“He’s useless now that Seta-kun is gone!”

Snickers and whispers were supposed to be soft and barely audible right, but why were they deafening to the brunette? They were loud and they lingered in his mind. Why won’t they get out? Why is this happening?

And for the first time in three years, Yosuke paid full attention throughout the rest of the lecture.

He couldn’t have ran any faster when the bell rang. He needed to escape, albeit for a mere 20 minutes , he has to get out of that place pronto. It was beginning to suffocate him and he didn’t know why. With his legs on autopilot he ended up at the school rooftop. As he barged through he heard two shrieks, very familiar shrieks to be precise.

“Yosuke, don’t scare us like that!”Chie yelped while Yukiko tried looking away. Both of them seemed somewhat guilty and have slightly flushed faces, as if they’d been caught doing something they shouldn’t be doing on school grounds.

“Yosuke-kun, would you mind going somewhere else to eat? I...have something private to discuss with Chie. Sorry.” Yukiko requested nicely but sternly. With Chie right beside her it’d be impossible to leave the roof in one piece if he decided to protest. He merely nodded, understood that his presence was greatly not welcomed to the girls and took his leave silently.

Yosuke was on the verge of tears, how lame and pathetic would it be to cry on your first day in school? Lunchtime was going to be over soon so he decided to hide in the bathroom until the bell rings.

The stall was kind of dark and slightly claustrophobic but compared to the classroom he’d gladly take the offer of staying here for the entire year if he could. As Yosuke wore his headphones, his stomach made a grumble similar to a Shadow that he used to fight. It was at this moment that he realized he actually didn’t pack anything for lunch.

It wasn’t that he forgot, it was more of a reason that...Souji was the one making lunch for them everyday. His heart ached while another realization dawned upon him as he noticed he went to the rooftop because it was his regular meeting spot with Souji during lunch.

As much as he was familiar with Yasogami High, he never felt so foreign and outcasted. He knew that if he stayed in school any longer he would just make a fool out of himself for crying. Yosuke made a mad dash into his class, took his belongings and told the class representative he wasn’t feeling well and left. Fortunate for him, the Class Rep took his reddish nose and croaked voice as symptoms of a flu so he was allowed to leave without questions.

Of course he didn’t go straight home or else his mom would never let him hear the end of it. Deciding to just wander around the small town, once again the brunette let his legs take charge of his destination. The music blared on his headphones as he strolled, ignoring the glances and chatters of housewives and passersby.

He stopped in his tracks, unsurprised that he was currently standing in front of the Dojima Residence. The white scooter that Souji rode was still parked in place. Upon closer inspection, he noticed the key was in place. With that said, Yosuke Hanamura did the dumbest thing he’d ever imagined.

> hey prtnr, u didnt rmve ur scootr key??

Souji replied almost instantly.

> I might have forgot, wait why are you at Dojima’s at this hour Yosuke?

‘Ah crap now I’ve really done it haven’t I.’ Yosuke groaned and replied.

> its a long stry, dnt wry abt it

> I don’t buy it. Is there something bothering you? You can tell me about it, you know you can trust me right, partner?

> cn i call u??

> Now’s not a good time, I’m...still in class. Sorry but I’ll call you when I’m dismissed. Let’s just text for now.

> but u hv clss wont u gt caught??

> That’s not as important as you. You need me at the moment, I can’t just leave you be.

> y r u so nice 2 me, im juz a disapoinman i cnt even spll it rite ...

> I treasure you as my friend and most trusted partner. You’re not a disappointment...You’re special to me Yosuke. I won’t forgive myself if I ignore you when you’re in trouble. Besides, you’d do the same for me too right? We are equals. I want to prove that to you. Please let me.

> i undrstnd, focus in clss , il b alrite, thx prtnr ..

> Remember that I’m here for you. Text me if there’s anything alright?

> i will , cya ltr :)

> :)

Yosuke stared at the screen, breathing a soft sigh. Things were definitely difficult at the moment but everything seemed like they’d turn out fine with Souji’s reassurance. It’s probably wrong, weird and girly to rely on a guy so much but for now that doesn’t matter. Souji may have left Inaba, but he definitely did not leave Yosuke. And Yosuke was content with that.

[deliverydefresas]

it seems to me, for every time, i’m getting more openhearted

okay here i am catching up with prompts that have been sitting on my waiting list since the beginning of the time. this in particular has been there, half written since before season 2 started lmao 

and tbh, at this point i can’t even remember who asked for this so im so so so sorry but i hope you like it still

im trying my best to finish most stuff before lutteo’s ficweek but we’ll see how that goes xD 

what even is proofreading am i right 

prompt: simón comforting ámbar after being left by her squad (delfi bc of pelfi’s break up and jazmín bc she has a crush on simón but he has one on Ámbar)

“Why the long face?”

She had been distracted watching (and cursing) her two friends three tables away from her; mad at them for being childish and leaving her sitting alone, making her look like a complete friendless loser, that she hadn’t realized when the guitarist had taken the seat beside her.

Simón’s voice surprised her.

Ámbar turned to look at him, but was unsurprised to his always present grin and friendly eyes looking at her, honest concern hiding behind them. She almost groaned out loud.

The least thing she needed was to talk to one of the reasons her friends were acting ridiculously for.

“I was born with it, can’t really do much about it.”

His grin got a little bigger.

“It’s a pretty face,” he agreed, “but I’m sure a smile would make it even prettier.”

She had to contain the grimace from appearing on her face. “Right.”

Simón laughed, “I’m just trying to be nice.” She didn’t know what to respond to this, so she just waited until he said something else. Simón paused for a moment, unsure how to continue and do what he had come for; he then looked past her, and nodded to where Delfina and Jazmín were, before finally asking, “did something happen between you and your friends?”

“Corny and nosy.”

“It’s called being nice.” He tried to defend himself, but it only made her shake her head at him, “you can tell me, you know? I won’t judge or tell it to anybody.”

“Anybody but Luna, I’m guessing.” She snorted, not believing his word. The boy grimaced a little, however, it didn’t stop him from trying again.

“I tell Luna a lot of stuff, but I can keep secrets, Ámbar.”

She eyed him carefully. After being her skating partner for three months, she knew he was a nice guy. He worked hard, and would fight anyone to defend what he thought was right, even her. They’ve had their own little disagreements over steps and lifts, but the moment they stepped out of the rink it’d be as if her little dabs were never told, and go to his usual friendly and nice self. He was like his best friend in many ways, always choosing to be nice over a grudge. She guessed that’s why they got along so well, because they were basically the same person split in two bodies.

“I doubt it,” he was about to protest, but she didn’t let him, “and you can stop. We both know you know why they’re acting this way.”

“Pedro may have told me a little, I guess.” He admitted sheepishly.

“Delfi blames me because he keeps turning her apologies down, as if I was to be responsible for his attitude,” she huffed. Simón blinked a couple times, confused.

“Weren’t you the one that told her to change?”

“She was the one who decided to come back and. I never told her to.” Simón could tell his words had offender her, so he placed his left hand on her right, squeezing lightly as an apology, as she continued, “and independently if she changed or not, that’s on them, I can’t do anything to help with that.”

Simón stared at her for a minute, and she looked right back at him. He was clearly looking for something. What, she couldn’t guess, but she could play along until she found out.

“Fair enough,” he finally said, and folded his arms on the table, “what about Jazmín, though? How come she took Delfi’s side when she…” he thought about it for a second, “idolizes you?”

“Don’t remind me.”  

As if she would tell him Jazmín was mad because she thought Ámbar liked him.  Which, by the way, was ridiculous. First, she couldn’t believe her friend was stupid enough to go after a guy who clearly had no interest in her, and secondly, she couldn’t believe said friend blamed her for said guy’s lack of interest.

“Do you miss them?” he asked softly, when he noticed the frown she now held on her face. She had forgotten he held one of her hands on one of his, so when he started making circles on it with his thumb she was surprised once again.

“Well, they’re my friends.” Simón’s lips twitched when she blinked at their hands, “stupidity and all, I like them.”

“You should really stop calling your friends stupid,” he half joked, half meant it. “Or bringing them down altogether. That’s not what friends are for.”

She sighed, “stop. I know, okay? I’m trying.” He raised an eyebrow at her.

“Okay, I believe you.”

Her frown deepened, “you don’t sound convincing, guitarist.”

He ignored the nickname, and leaned in a bit closer to her. His eyes held such sentiment, she felt a bit lightheaded. Stupid beanie boy, with his stupid nice guy attitude.

“It’s just, isn’t it better be the hero of your own story than being the villain in someone else’s?”

“Are you implying I’m evil? Because, rude.”

Simón laughed, taking distance and shaking his head at her comment.

“Not all villains are evil, Ámbar. Some are misunderstood.”

“You’re still saying I’m a villain, and again, rude.” She retorted, deep down offended he thought such a thing of her, but she could understand where he was coming from. After all, she had spent most of the time he’s known her trying to ruin his best friend’s life.

“Here I am, trying to be poetic and you’re killing me.” He mocked offense.

“Believe me, I’m doing you a favor.” She raised her eyebrows, “somebody’s gotta save the world from your sappiness.”

Simón chuckled lowly, his eyes twinkling with amusement as Ámbar rolled her eyes at him, something that happened a lot. Ámbar was sure he was already used to it, since it happened so often both off and on the rink, many times directed at him. He must have seen it so much he was becoming immune, or simply didn’t mind.

“I beg to differ,” he joked, “many people love my sappiness and corny lines.”

“Equally sappy and corny people, I’m sure.” Jazmín came to her mind, and added “or very delusional ones.”  

Simón, who hadn’t taken off his eyes of her, noticed the little twitch in her face when she spoke the last sentence, and how her eyes travelled once again to Delfi and Jazmín’s table, and asked, “is Jazmín the delusional ones?” Her back tensed, but didn’t turn back to him. Instead, she continued looking straight at her friends. “I’m going to take your silence as a yes. Is that why you’re fighting? Because you think Jazmín is being delusional with something?”

“I don’t think she is, I know! How would you call being after a guy who clearly has absolute no interest in you? I’m just telling her the truth but of course, I’m just being the mean, bad friend!” Ámbar’s scowl was deep, disgusted at the situation.  She just wanted to scream at Jazmín to have some self-respect, but the girl was enamored by the idea of the boy next to her, and would listen to nothing.

“I’m sure Jazmín just wants a little support from you. I mean, what if the guy is interested in her and you just don’t know?” He was trying his best to sound calming, and she was grateful. However, that didn’t stop her from laughing in his face.

“Are you, though?” she turned to look at him in the eyes, his own widened when he realized what she was asking. “Am I lying? Are you actually interested in her?” her words were sharp, daring him to prove she was in the wrong. Gulping, he shook his head.

“Don’t get me wrong, I like her, she’s a nice and funny girl but she’s not- she’s just-” he sighed, “I just can’t see her as more than a friend.”

“She’s set on that you’re soulmates, and thinks I’m telling her to forget about you because I’m crush-” Ámbar stopped herself a second too late, and Simón definitely caught on her slip.

He inclined closer, teasing smile with underlying hope in his eyes, “you’re…?”

“Nothing. Just Jazmín being Jazmín.” She shook her head, and avoided his eyes once again. His smile weakened a bit, but didn’t push the subject, which she was thankful for. The least thing she needed right now is to talk more about inexistent crushes.

“Well, miss Smith, I think you’re a good friend.” Ámbar’s barely audible huff made him take her hand, squeezing a little so she’d look at him. When she did, he continued, “Seriously. You could have encouraged a fantasy and give her false hope, but you chose to be straight forward about reality. Jazmín’s going to thank you one day, especially after I tell her I’m not really interested.”

Ámbar frowned, “she’s not going to be thankful, if anything, she’ll get crushed.” Maybe blame me more, her mind added.

“She’ll have you and Delfi to fall on.” His smile was soft and reassuring.

It only made her doubt more, “aren’t you forgetting they’re pissed with me?”

“Now, not for long. I’m going to talk to Pedro, so he can talk to Delfi and maybe get their business straight. They both have been stubborn for too long.”

She looked at him for a long moment. Her eyes searching for something to indicate he was lying, but she could only see honesty and open concern.

“Why are you doing this? I’m not your friend, you don’t have to help me.”

Beanie boy grinned, amused at her words, “you’ve said so yourself, I’m a nice guy, I like helping people.” He tapped her nose slightly, confusing her and making her frown a bit more.

“You’re a weird guy, Simón Álvarez.” She sighed, erasing her frown; her lips twitched upwards as she went to sip on her drink.

“I believe the words you’re looking for are thank you, Ámbar Smith. But I’ll let it pass this time, because we just became friends.”

“Keep dreaming, you sap.”

Ámbar nearly chokes on her smoothie when he spoke again, even daring to wink at her.

“Oh, I will, except… In my dreams, we’re more than just that.”  

[draconicroyalty]

A Squad Isn’t a Squad Without a ChatRoom

My excuse for this is that I love chat room fanfics. Also, huge crossover and massive oc x canon.-

Fandoms: DMC, Bayonetta, Inuyasha

Genre: Crack, with a side of romance

Chapter One - Furries, Monster Fuckers and Dinner

                                     [BALDER created Group Chat]

[BALDER changed the name Group Chat to Fucking Insomnia]

[BALDER added SPARDA]

[BALDER added TOUGA]

[Balder added DANIYAL]

DANIYAL: who tf is creating group chats at 4am BALDER: me, dipshit, i can't sleep DANIYAL: well boo hoo, suck it up and bang your head against somethin BALDER: why are u so cranky DANIYAL: it's 4am and my first class tomorrow is maths do you really wanna ask me why tf i'm mad BALDER: fair enough BALDER: is sparda awake DANIYAL: nah DANIYAL: has been snoring for a good 5 hours BALDER: wait, he snores?? DANIYAL: ya BALDER: omg DANIYAL: what about dog boy BALDER: playing dating simulators DANIYAL: you're kidding BALDER: i wish i was DANIYAL: YO DOG BOY WTF TOUGA: TF U WANT DANIYAL: STOP TRYING TO GET INTO A BISHIE'S PANTS U WEEB, GO TO SLEEP FFS TOUGA: why are u awake BALDER: yeah nice question DANIYAL: um DANIYAL: studying? TOUGA: bullshit BALDER: bet you're playing lol again and mad cuz of the trolls DANIYAL: IT'S 4AM, TROLLS AREN'T SUPPOSED TO BE HERE, WHY DO I ONLY GET YASUOS IN MY TEAM BALDER: there there, baby, there there SPARDA: Dafuck is all this noise DANIYAL: u r awake??? SPARDA: yah, someone mutters what they type a bit too loud DANIYAL: srry bae SPARDA: np bby TOUGA: stop DANIYAL: why BALDER: you're reminding him he's single DANIYAL: that's cuz he's a furry SPARDA: LOOOOOL DANIYAL: before anyone asks spar actually laughed while typing that TOUGA: ASHFKDSKGHKSJAHL BALDER: touga, words. not keysmashes. TOUGA: IMF NSOT A FURRTY DANIYAL: what??? SPARDA: i think the poor furry is trying to type he ain't a furry

[DANIYAL changed the name Fucking Insomnia to FURRY CONFIRMED]

BALDER: lol BALDER: dan u r aware that he will try to kill you tomorrow DANIYAL: np i got a spray bottle TOUGA: KLHAFDSHGKGH FUCK U DANIYAL: MY PARTNERS DO THAT BALDER: sometimes i forget our boy's poly DANIYAL: i love all my boyfriends, girlfriends and significant others equally and if anyone hurts them i'll pull their guts out and eat them TOUGA: ew BALDER: scary SPARDA: i say him throwing a guy that was harassing one of his classmates into the trash once DANIYAL: i was practicing slam dunks and he looked like a basketball TOUGA: how does a guy look like a basketball DANIYAl: he was wearing orange and black BALDER: fair enough SPARDA: like this is fun but SPARDA: it's 4:22 am SPARDA: we should sleep TOUGA: alright mom BALDER: goodnight mom SPARDA: mom?? pretty sure i didn't conceive such ugly children DANIYAl: OH SNAP BALDER: SPARDA WE'RE LITERALLY TWINS?? SPARDA: LOOK AT ME, I'M THE PRETTY ONE BALDER: BEAUTY MARKS DON'T AUTOMATICALLY MAKE U THE PRETTY ONE TOUGA: aaaand there they go DANIYAL: babe stop angrily typing SPARDA: he started BALDER: NO I DIDNT??? DANIYAL: i know babe i know BALDER: HE LITERALLY STARTED THIS??? TOUGA: give up bal it's better BALDER: jsfslghjhg im going to bed TOUGA: nighty night BALDER: stop playing dream daddy and go to sleep too TOUGA: make me DANIYAL: WAIT U PLAY DREAM DADDY??? TOUGA: YA DANIYAL: favorite dad? TOUGA: brian DANIYAL: ....your fave's the bear. u furry. TOUGA: shUT UP TOUGA: who's your fave?? DANIYAL: matt TOUGA: why am i not surprised DANIYAL: he's a cINNAMON ROLL AND I WILL PROTECT HIM WITH MY LIFE SPARDA: babe log off lol DANIYAL: but babe...the IP.... SPARDA: tomorrow, babe, tomorrow DANIYAL: fine...night, u furry TOUGA: aadlkfjsghAHJSGHSKJ NOT A FURRY BALDER: furry [BALDER is OFFLINE]

[SPARDA is OFFLINE]

[DANIYAL is OFFLINE]

TOUGA: fuck y'all [TOUGA is OFFLINE]

[DANIYAL is ONLINE]

[DANIYAL added EVA]

[DANIYAL added AMASIS]

[DANIYAL added MAALIK]

[DANIYAL added JUURAH]

[DANIYAL added NATHANIEL]

[DANIYAL added LUKAH]

EVA: baby! DANIYAL: babe! AMASIS: what tf is this DANIYAL: balder couldn't sleep and created a group chat DANIYAL: so since i liked the idea and was super supportive when he created it i thought about adding more people AMASIS: oh JUURAH: LMAO IS THE NAME OF THE GROUP CHAT ABOUT TOUGA DANIYAL: scroll up bro JUURAH: omg that furry MAALIK: why tf were you all awake at 4am DANIYAL: balder had insomnia, i was playing league, touga was seducing daddies and i woke up spar MAALIK: that game's not good for u, i'm tellin ya DANIYAL: too bad i don't give a fuck MAALIK: ow DANIYAL: where's my baby boy? NATHANIEL: for the last time i'm 2 MINUTES YOUNGER THAN U DANIYAL: baby boy <3 EVA: (*^_^*) thats cute DANIYAL: you're cute

[SPARDA is ONLINE]

SPARDA: you're both cute AMASIS: sparda is summoned as soon as eva and dan start being cute, wow SPARDA: you do it too AMASIS: not with eva AMASIS: no offense darling EVA: it's ok (*´∀`*) DANIYAL: so pure MAALIK: if we're talkin about being cute and stuff MAALIK: i have some baby dan pics DANIYAL: *softly* dont MAALIK: don't try to meme your way out of this LUKAH: give them to us EVA: Lukah, you're here! (*^.^*) LUKAH: ...pure maiden LUKAH: i mean hi love LUKAH: anyways SPARDA: pics now AMASIS: i demand pics DANIYAL: pls no [MAALIK sent chubbycheeks.png] EVA: AWWWWWWWWWWW JUURAH: omg is that his old bib??? that thing was so cute SPARDA: brb dying cuz of cute AMASIS: i'm saving that and nobody can stop me LUKAH: !!! LUKAH: baby freckles LUKAH: omg

[TOUGA is ONLINE]

TOUGA: i'm saving it as future blackmail potential DANIYAL: fuck u SPARDA: dog boy don't lie SPARDA: u also think he was cute af TOUGA: nah TOUGA: maybe a little TOUGA: ok look he has really chubby cheeks and he's hugging a dog plushie, I AM WEAK EVA: Daniyal never lost his cuteness over the years ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ DANIYAL: aghgihrhgrih that'snottrue SPARDA: oh he's blushing AMASIS: you're his roommate, pinch his cheeks for me LUKAH: and for me EVA: for me too!! ʕ￫ᴥ￩ʔ JUURAH: why do you like those emojis so much eva EVA: they're adorable DANIYAL: ow ow ow SPARDA MY CHEEKS SPARDA: they're so soft omg AMASIS: now kiss them better SPARDA: done AMASIS: u know what i'm going there EVA: count me in! LUKAH: im on my way rn

[BALDER is ONLINE]

BALDER: y'all really love him don't you SPARDA: balder. brother. good friend of mine. he's literally a ray of sunshine that covers anything that's evil and putrid in this world AMASIS: he's the personification of a cool breeze in a warm summer day EVA: he's huggable like a teddy! LUKAH: ... LUKAH: thicc. LUKAH: jk, he's literally a mix of everything that's good and sweet DANIYAL: ASFJKGSHG STOP IM CRYING I LOVE U ALL SO MUCH TOUGA: SOME OF US ARE STILL SINGLE DANIYAL: that's cuz you're a furry TOUGA: stop DANIYAL: i saw your internet browser history bruh TOUGA: I DIDN'T KNOW WHAT A FURRY WAS DANIYAL: SO U RESEARCH IT ON TUMBLR 2 TIMES A DAY?? DANIYAL: yeah right bro TOUGA: im pulling out the receipts Dan DANIYAL: do not TOUGA: i may be a furry, but have you seen the amount of times you're in the terato tag?? TOUGA: u monster fucker

[Touga changed the name FURRY CONFIRMED to DAN WANTS MONSTER D]

DANIYAL: hOW DARE SPARDA: tbh, unsurprised AMASIS: like, he blushes when there's big creepy monsters in movies EVA: i heard him saying a monster lady could break him in half and he'd thank her LUKAH: ya dan's always been a monster fucker JUURAH: i can confirm that MAALIK: wait so all those trips to find big foot were due to Dan's horny ass NATHANIEL: nah that was me NATHANIEL: he's more of a loch ness monster guy DANIYAL: Nessie is a beautiful independent lady and also gay af so we're just besties MAALIK: i'm kinkshaming DANIYAL: u can't kinkshame if kinksame MAALIK: what DANIYAL: one word. actually, one cryptid DANIYAL: mothman MAALIK: ASDFGHJKL SHUT UP BALDER: honestly BALDER: i think being a furry is worse TOUGA: thanks for the damn support bro, wait til i kill you while u sleep SPARDA: did u just confirm you're a furry TOUGA: fUCK JUURAH: i always knew it NATHANIEL: i mean why would he nickname himself dog boy BALDER: lmao do u have a fursona touga?? TOUGA: fuck off TOUGA: why not tease Dan for being a monster fucker?? AMASIS: if u dated him you'd know he's into even kinkier stuff SPARDA: yah EVA: yah LUKAH: yah TOUGA: wait what DANIYAL: qwertyuiioponfds save m BALDER: what is going on over there AMASIS: we're drowning him in affection and i think he broke LUKAH: bara machine broke BALDER: tf's a bara TOUGA: urban dictionary says it's a person (usually male) with a large, somewhat muscular, and fairly hairy body type NATHANIEL: lol JUURAH: if there's something Dan ain't, it's hairy EVA: tru SPARDA: never caught him shaving tbh DANIYAL: i'll never reveal my secrets TOUGA: late bloomer DANIYAL: iM NOT DANIYAL: i simply dislike body hair on me TOUGA: what about other people DANIYAL: it's their body and they can do whatever they want and honestly?? cute. BALDER: why not apply that concept to yourself DANIYAL: never MAALIK: i know we are all having fun chatting and stuff MAALIK: but like MAALIK: it's almost dinner time MAALIK: so go get somethin to eat DANIYAL: but daaaad MAALIK: im not dad. dad is straight. NATHANIEL: lmao, right JUURAH: our family is so gay i sometimes forget that DANIYAL: mom's bi af tho JUURAH: i took after her DANIYAL: anyway if u don't mind im getting my lovely gfs and bfs something to eat AMASIS: we could eat u AMASIS: out DANIYAL: thank god u said out cuz if not i would kick u DANIYAL: this is a vore free chat SPARDA: vore is strictly banned TOUGA: kinkshamers BALDER: ... DANIYAL: touga wtf

[TOUGA is OFFLINE]

DANIYAL: ...

[DANIYAL changed the name DAN WANTS MONSTER D to TOUGA: CONFIRMED FURRY AND INTO VORE]

BALDER: tbh?? he deserves this EVA: what's vore LUKAH: such a pure innocent soul SPARDA: don't tell her DANIYAL: guys. eva's anything but a pure innocent soul. DANIYAL: at least when it comes to stuff LUKAH: ok, tru SPARDA: u woke the femdom monster in her DANIYAL: and you're grateful for that SPARDA: can't say i'm not AMASIS: can we go eat now DANIYAL: actual dinner or ( ͡~ ͜ʖ ͡°) BALDER: is your lenny face winking MAALIK: that is extremely concerning NATHANIEL: welp, people, im outtie JUURAH: same, wanna eat MAALIK: im escaping before this gets anymore sexual

[NATHANIEL is OFFLINE]

[JUURAH is OFFLINE]

[MAALIK is OFFLINE]

BALDER: im going to find touga and kinkshame him

[BALDER is OFFLINE]

AMASIS: so SPARDA: hm EVA: mcdonalds or subway? (´∀`) LUKAH: i'm in the mood for mcdonalds DANIYAL: yeah same SPARDA: can we watch a movie too?? since we're going to the mall AMASIS: sounds like fun DANIYAL: im paying LUKAH: no ur not wtf DANIYAL: I PAY

[DANIYAL is OFFLINE]

SPARDA: STOP HIM BEFORE HE GETS HIS WALLET

[SPARDA is OFFLINE]

[EVA is OFFLINE]

[LUKAH is OFFLINE]

[AMASIS is OFFLINE]

[writingguide003-blog]

Fresh voices: 50 writers you should read now

New Post has been published on https://writingguideto.com/must-see/fresh-voices-50-writers-you-should-read-now/

Fresh voices: 50 writers you should read now

Which debut novel should you reach for this spring? Heres our guide to the most exciting voices in fiction, politics, SF, graphic novels and more

Fiction

Ruthlessly beady eye Sally Rooney. Photograph: Richard Saker for the Observer

Sally Rooney Irish writer was just 26 when her debut Conversations With Friends took the publishing world by storm last year. Its a barbed, witty page-turner about being young and fragile in the new Ireland, set in a perilously privileged milieu of performance poetry and small magazines. Narrator Frances is out of her depth, negotiating love, sex, friendship and ambition while trying to maintain a brittle sense of self. Rooney has a ruthlessly beady eye and an effortless comic style. Her second novel, a love story across the class divide called Normal People, will be published in September.

Guy Gunaratne Gunaratne worked as a video journalist reporting on post-conflict zones before writing his blazing polyphonic debut In Our Mad and Furious City, out next month. Set over 48 hours in a north London estate, where the killing of a soldier-boy by a homegrown bredda and the torching of a mosque spark a riot, it reveals London as a conflict zone for its five narrators. These include a would-be grime artist and a teenager resisting Islamic radicalisation, as well as older immigrants from Belfast and the West Indies.

David Chariandy The Canadian writers masterly second novel, Brother, was published in the UK this month. It interrogates family, community and masculinity as it tells the story of Michael and Francis, the sons of a Trinidadian single mother, coming of age in the 1980s in a poor immigrant neighbourhood. We were the children of the help, without futures. In understated, classically beautiful prose it moves towards disaster with the terrible inevitability of a Greek tragedy.

Jessie Greengrass Greengrass published her unusual and wide-ranging short story collection An Account of the Decline of the Great Auk, According to One Who Saw It last year; this February she followed it with her first novel Sight , now longlisted for the Womens prize for fiction. Her narrator is agonising over whether to commit to parenthood, looking back on the trauma of her own mothers death and remembering childhood holidays with her analyst grandmother. There are echoes of WG Sebald and Rachel Cusk in this thoughtful, digressive style that swirls together the historical and the personal, but Greengrasss questing intellect and elegant prose are all her own.

Eley Williams Small presses are making a big noise at the moment, and thats down to such brilliant books as Attrib. and Other Stories, which took the Republic of Consciousness Prize for Small Presses this month. Williams had been publishing her playful stories in magazines for years, and its no surprise to learn that her PhD was on dictionaries: her stories focus on words and meanings, riddling away at the gaps between thought and speech, sound and silence, lovers and strangers. They

Politics and ideas

Holding up a mirror to contemporary Britain Reni Eddo-Lodge.

Mark OConnell OConnells captivating book about transhumanism and solving the problem of death, To Be a Machine, which saw him navigate some of the stranger byways of Silicon Valley, was shortlisted for the Baillie Gifford prize, the Royal Society science book prize and recently the Wellcome prize. Having taken on immortality, the Dublin-based writer is set to tackle the end of the world, in what promises to be a companionable and quick-witted exploration of apocalyptic anxieties.

William Davies One of the most interesting commentators on political ideas, Davies teaches political economy and sociology at Goldsmiths, University of London, and is the author of two books, The Happiness Industryand The Limits of Neoliberalism. He is as lively discussing Brexit and the culture of the Home Office as he is the current crisis in capitalism. His next study, due later this year, will be Nervous States: How Feeling Took Over the World.

Suzy Hansen The author of the elegant and persuasive Notes on a Foreign Country: An American Abroad in a Post-American World, Hansen is based in Istanbul, where she moved from the US following 9/11. Hisham Matar hailed her debut as remarkably revealing a deeply honest and brave portrait of an individual sensibility reckoning with her countrys violent role in the world.

Reni Eddo-Lodge Eddo-Lodges debut book Why Im No Longer Talking to White People About Race, published last year, has recently won the Jhalak prize it was praised by the judges as a clarion call for action, which not only holds up a mirror to contemporary Britain but also serves as a warning. Marlon James called it essential.

James Bridle Bridle is an increasingly talked-about artist and writer who considers the relationship between technology, culture and consciousness. Among the subjects of his art are drones and self-driving cars. His ambitious debut book, New Dark Age, which argues that the digital era is radically shifting the boundaries of human experience, is out in July.

Poetry

A fresh take on urban life Kayo Chingonyi. Photograph: Roberto Ricciuti/Getty Images

Kayo Chingonyi Kumukanda, Zambian-born Chingonyis much feted debut, presented a fresh take on contemporary urban life shot through with an appreciation of traditional modes of living and storytelling. He reflects on identity and race, culture and masculinity with a thoughtfulness and lyrical elegance that conveys anger as well as a tender melancholy.

Ocean Vuong Night Sky With Exit Wounds picked up a rare double when it was awarded the TS Eliot prize and the Forward best first collection award. Vietnamese-American Vuongs work nods to both New York-school poets such as Frank OHara close observations of street life, frankness about sex and the historical myth-making of Homer. The Eliot judges hailed the definitive arrival of a significant voice.

Richard Osmond Osmonds job as a wild-food forager makes it unsurprising that his debut collection, Useful Verses, should be such a treasure trove of information. But what gives his poems energy is not just that they exhibit a deft authority on plants and poisons, remedies and roadkill, but that they are equally attuned to human and digital environments. The result is a work that reveals much about the world, both ancient and modern.

Tara Bergin This Irish poets 2015 collection, This Is Yarrow, is a wryly unpredictable set of poems that challenges our familiarity with the world around us. Last years equally intense and funny The Tragic Death of Eleanor Marx explores the life and eventual suicide of Karl Marxs daughter, the first translator of Madame Bovary. A rare originality of voice and vision.

Hannah Sullivan The long poems that make up Sullivans debut, Three Poems, are wise and witty, and spaciously unfold an account of a young womans love, disappointment and resilience in New York City, with Heraclitean philosophical musings and autobiographical reflections on birth and bereavement.

Memoir and biography

Compelling topicality and novelty Maggie Nelson. Photograph: Dan Tuffs for the Observer

Paul Ferris Football memoirs rarely produce great literature but Ferriss The Boy on the Shed is a glistering exception, which sets a short career with Newcastle United against the background of a Catholic childhood in a Protestant stronghold of Northern Ireland. Hes witty, emotional and painfully self-revealing. If, as Alan Shearer intimates in the foreword, a second book is on the way, he may turn out to be the new Frank McCourt.

Edmund Gordon How do you tell the life story of a woman who was, by her own admission, a born fabulist? Debut biographer Gordon disentangles myth from truth in The Making of Angela Carter, an elegant and well-judged life of the author.

Kapka Kassabova The Bulgarian-born writer takes a journey through the mysterious region where her home country, Greece and Turkey meet. Borderis a hybrid work that mixes memoir with travelogue as she putters across the land in an old Renault, recording the oral histories of the people she meets and crunching them with what she knows of the deeper past in an attempt to exorcise her own ghosts.

Patricia Lockwood Already beloved for her silly, often filthy verse, Lockwood burst into the almost mainstream with her memoir Priestdaddy, centring on her father: a Catholic priest with five children and a penchant for guns, prog rock and cream liqueur. While her poetry is brilliantly bizarre, Priestdaddy revealed a dazzling new voice that flourishes in a longer form.

Maggie Nelson The compelling topicality and novelty of her subject matter earns Nelson her place.The Argonauts is an uncategorisable book, that animates queer theory through the no-holds-barred story of her own love match with a trans man. Here are pregnancy, birth and family-making as you have never seen them before.

Graphic novels

The Arab of the Future Volume 2: A Childhood in the Middle East, 1984-1985 by Riad Sattouf. Photograph: Two Roads

Kirsten Radtke Imagine Wanting Only This begins with the death of Radtkes uncle Dan from a hereditary heart condition that could kill her and moves through her young life, taking in love, backpacking, loneliness and visits to ruin after ruin. Her memoir is stuffed with fascinating anecdotes and great drawings that show everything from bus-borne squabbles to tight herds of sheep and abandoned cities. It ends in New York, where the 30-year-old illustrator and editor now lives, and this intelligent and passionate work makes you wonder where shell go next.

Hamish Steele Steele works as an animator as well as a comic book artist, and humour and energy bubble through his work. His debut, Pantheon, a savage take on Egyptian myth, was self-published after a Kickstarter campaign before being picked up by NoBrow. His new book, DeadEndia: The Watchers Test, revolves around three amusement park workers and a genuinely haunted house.

Nick Drnaso The Illinois native picked up an LA Times book prize for his excellent 2016 debut,Beverly, a series of sad and lyrical interconnected stories. It sets dysfunctional young Americans against an eerie backdrop of highways, motels and couches, lust and despair pushing up against the clean lines and pastel colours of his artwork. Drnasos latest, Sabrina, follows a US airmans investigation of a missing woman.

Emil Ferris My Favourite Thing Is Monstersemerged to wild applause last year. A brick of a book with something to treasure on every page, it takes the form of the journal of Karen Reyes, a 10-year-old obsessed with drawing, monsters and the fate of a woman who dies in her apartment block. Karen fills the diary with vibrant beasts and the details of her detective work. Ferris makes her humans and monsters leap off the page, and Book 2 (due in August) should be another cracker.

Riad Sattouf Sattouf spent a decade writing for Charlie Hebdo, but only came to the attention of English-speaking readers in 2015, thanks to The Arab of the Future, which follows his childhood as he moves between France (where his mother was born), Syria (where his father was born) and Libya. The whims of Sattoufs increasingly authoritarian father drive volumes one and two, which mix darkness, dry humour and sharp observation. Volume 3 is out in August.

Crime and thrillers

Books that are sharply observed and crackling with energy Joe Ide.

Jane Harper Winner of the Crime Writers Association Gold Dagger, Harpers bestselling first novel, The Dry, is both a riveting detective story and a powerful portrait of a small Australian town in the drought-stricken middle of nowhere, riven by poverty and alcoholism. Her second book, Force of Nature, which features the same investigator and concerns an elemental battle for survival in the unforgiving Australian wilderness, lives up to the promise of her stunning debut.

Joseph Knox Sirens, Knoxs debut, is a pungent slice of urban noir featuring disgraced Manchester detective Aidan Waits. Having blotted his copybook by stealing drugs from the evidence room, Waits is forced to go undercover and finds himself deep in a world of ruthless drug barons and corrupt politicians. The start of what promises to be a classic series as proved by the equally vivid and uncompromising follow-up, The Smiling Man.

Joe Ide Set in Long Beach, California, Ides novel, IQ, is the start of a projected series featuring Isaiah Quintabe, a modern day African American incarnation of Sherlock Holmes. We learn his back story derailed in high school when his brother was killed, and turning to crime before realising his true calling as he finds out who is trying to murder a famous rapper. A second outing, Righteous, was published in February; both books are sharply observed and crackling with energy.

Sabri Louatah A bestseller in the authors native France, Savages: The Wedding is the first novel in the Saint-Etienne Quartet. Its the eve of the presidential election, and it looks as if Idder Chaouch is about to become the first Algerian premier. To some, the French Obama holds the promise of a post-racial society based on liberty, equality and fraternity, but not everyone agrees. Exhilarating, sharp-edged, and complex, this is a compelling hybrid of family saga and socio-political thriller.

CJ Tudor In The Chalk Man, 12-year-old narrator Eddie Adams enjoys communicating with his friends using a secret code of chalk figures until a series of anonymous drawings leads to the discovery of a dismembered girl in the woods. Fast-forward 30 years and Eddie receives a visit from an old friend and a drawing of a noosed stick-man arrives in the post. This assured debut is very much in the Stephen King vein creepy with plenty of menace.

Children and young adult

Grisly, child-empowering edge Little Red by Bethan Woollvin.

Bethan Woollvin Little Red, a feminist retelling of Little Red Riding Hood with a grisly, child-empowering edge, won Woollvin the Macmillan Illustration prize in 2014. Her second picture book, a prince-free Rapunzel, features the same mixture of stark black and white and a single colour. Her words share this lack of obfuscatory prettiness, a deadpan, terse narrative voice complementing her sharp illustrative style. Look out for her forthcoming Hansel and Gretel.

Joseph Coelho Overheard in a Tower Block, Coelhos newest poetry collection, was longlisted for the 2018 Carnegie Medal. Arguing parents become electrical forces or duelling knights; the bin-chute mouth of a block is fed the stuff of its residents lives. Rich with metaphor and secret meaning, his poetry is deeply welcoming, and his sensibility is both mythic and urban; his freed Prometheus, unearthed from eons of eagle droppings, hears the god-whisper of a city, the electric thrum of buildings, the digital hiss of a new world.

David Solomons The Scottish screenwriter represents the best in contemporary comic writing for children splendidly zany, full of irresistible trivia,but never scrimping on the emotional undertow that ensures longevity and heart. His first book for children, My Brother Is a Superhero, is subtitled I could have been one too, except I needed a wee; the story of comic geek Luke and his older brother Zack, unfairly given superpowers by a visiting alien, it won the Waterstones prize for childrens fiction in 2016, and its two sequels have since been flying off the shelves.

Lucy Strange The Secret of Nightingale Wood, Stranges debut novel for age 8-12, is set just after the first world war, and features Henry, a determined heroine grieving her brothers death, protecting her younger sister Piglet, and contending with sinister doctors who conspire to commit her mother to an asylum. Strange elegantly blends a sense of period with compelling emotion and excitement. Her new novel, Our Castle by the Sea, is due in November.

Tomi Adeyemi The Nigerian American authors debut, Children of Blood and Bone, has generated considerable excitement, with film rights already sold. The first in a trilogy, this ambitious book is told from three perspectives; central is that of Zlie Adebola, who takes on the monarchy in a bid to restore magic to the world of Orisha.

Literature in translation

Brilliant evocations Maylis de Karangel.

Maylis de Kerangal Winning last years Wellcome prize for Mend the Living, her brilliant evocation of a day in the life of a heart as it is rushed from one body to another, should raise the French authors profile, but as yet only two of her novels have made it into English. In both she makes character subservient to scenario, whether dealing with coronary transplant staff or workers on a six-lane suspension bridge in a fictional US town.

Samanta Schweblin Argentinian Schweblins brilliant and terrifying debut, Fever Dream, unfolds like a hallucination. A sick woman is confronted with a revenant child in a dialogue that combines the superstitions of a rural society with fears about agricultural abuse by big business, in a novel that was shortlisted for last years Man Booker International prize.

Olga Tokarczuk This time last year, the Polish novelist was the biggest star youd never heard of, but Flights put her on the map. This dazzling novel of fragments makes a passionate plea for connectedness through stories that somersault through time and space. Her back catalogue is now being published, with the Blakean Drive Your Plough Over the Bones of the Dead due this year, followed by her historical epic, The Books of Jacob, one of the biggest literary bestsellers in Polish history.

Andrs Barba After surviving the car accident that killed her parents, a wounded and traumatised seven-year-old girl is sent to an orphanage with her only surviving friend, a doll apparently brought to life by her distress. In Such Small Hands, Barba plays with the conventions of the ghost story to create a powerful fable of the malice and the erotic power play of children too young to put their fears into words.

Ahmed Saadawi Absurdist morality fable meets horror fantasy in Frankenstein in Baghdad, as a victim of sectarian violence is brought back to life in the aftermath of the US invasion of Iraq. Saadawi unspools an apparently endless causal chain of folly, corruption and tribalism.

Science and nature

Witty and elegant Cordelia Fine. Photograph: David Levene for the Guardian

Eugenia Cheng The mathematician remembers the day her mother first told her about graphs she felt as if her brain was contorting, and its a feeling she still gets when doing research. Its one her readers can share. Beyond Infinity begins with an energetic exposition of endlessness, before exploring the mathematical territory the concept opens up with the help of iPods, snorkelling and Winnie-the-Pooh. The Art of Logic is due in September.

David George Haskell On a cold January hike in 2004, Haskell, a biologist, found himself confronted with a choice. He could carry on writing scientific papers, following his enthusiasm for poetry and meditation on the side, or he could bring these interests together. The result was The Forest Unseen, a lyrical account of the year he spent returning to that very spot. His 2017 book The Songs of Trees explores the interconnectedness of nature through portraits of 12 individual trees.

Lindsey Fitzharris Fitzharriss hugely entertaining debut Read more: http://www.theguardian.com/us

[gsmatthews95]

War tourism: dutyful or distasteful?

So its been a while since I was active on this social media forum. Read "a while" as almost a week ago. It has been a productive week, one that has seen us discover Bosnia, learn about recent travesties and eat copious amounts if grease, yum. Bosnia it is safe to say has blown our expectations and left us suitably whelmed (yes the word whelmed is a thing in our vocab. It is when you are not over nor under whelmed so you are merely whelmed.) Having dithered about actually coming to Bosnia having bit heard much about it, our decision to come has proved very right and we're very glad we've come. Coincidentally, we're still actually in Bosnia and Herzegovina (currently in Herzegovina) at the seaside yaaaayy the sea. Its mid thirty degrees, finally we can see what everyone is england and Germany has been complaining about, and were camping for €5 euros each a night, perfect. The Bosnian coast is pretty funny cause its sandwiched in between two parts of Croatia, split and Dubrovnik and is only 12km long, luckily for us though it is 10 times cheaper than Croatia, which is why were here obvs, same coast but way cheaper. We are heading to Croatia next tho woooo but only to Dubrovnik to see some game of thrones, yeah baybey. But that is for a later post at a later time. Back to the present I am writing this currently sat on the stone beach overlooking the beaut sea under a palm tree. So let's recap the last week xoxoxo. The title should give a nice indication for the flow of this piece I believe. Bosnia has been tormented in living memory by the plight of war, siege and ethnic cleansing. The two cities we visited: Sarajevo and mostar are two of the main examples of these with the town of serbrencia (or something like that) being the third most eminent example of this. We went to a photo gallery/museum on sebrencia to gain an idea of the horror that occurred there. It was striking in Sarajevo how central war tourism was to the city and its culture. Unsurprising when the city has undergone a 44 month siege under 25 years ago. But every shop is selling bullets, guns, used helmets and some of the hostels are even called the Franz Ferdinand hostel (as ww1 started there) and the war hostel (a bit morbid eh?). The wars have dictated the tourism and a lot of the city. So, we decided to do a walking tour (free obvs. Who do you think we are?! Rich. Uh no.) It was good, we were the obly two on it, the guide was nice, it was chilled and we had fun although it didn't mention the siege much at all, you had to do a 20 euro tour to hear about that, no thanks. So we took history into our own hands and visited two museums, cultured AF I know. One as mentioned on the serbrecnia genocide and one on the siege of Sarajevo. They both helped impress the horror and death and destruction of the two events into our brains. It was all quite morbid and depressing really but also eye opening how such awful things could have happened in Europe in the age of the un during (just) our lifetimes. Mad. And we've barely heard anything of it. My degree was international relations and I'd only even heard of Bosnia because of a single case study I'd done in lower sixth, madness. Anyhow we feel a duty to preach the terrors we now know to be true. Expect a much more serious George when I return. The city of Sarajevo tho even after these atrocities was beautiful in the old town centre. Very ottoman Turkish styles with small stores, nice restaurants and cool bars with a lot of shisha. Everywhere had shisha. We wandered around d the outer parts of town too which bore much more of the remnants of the war. Bullet holes were a standard in most building and whole, empty and abandoned buildings were a norm, really sad but very striking. Im glad we saw it all. Oo last thing on Sarajevo. We wandered to a fort. The fort wasn't that exciting but the view was immense over the town and across a graveyard of identical white tombstones, another foreboding reminder of the past. It was jokes tho because there was a wedding photoshoot going on and twice we we in their shots and asked to move with the second time us actually having them taking our spit that we were in first, obvs we just know the best spots and they were jealous he he he. The last part of our time in Sarajevo was catching the bus to mostar, should be easy its just a train after all. Firstly we got there 1.5 hours early having got the wrong time for the train. Secondly we had no idea what platform to use as there were no signs and they were so unfriendly. It was deceptively stressful but we got our train. The reason we took the train by the way, not the bus, was cause it was cheaper, shock, and it was meant yo be very picturesque. Spoiler alert: it was. Mostar. We'd been recommended a documentary on the war in mostar as some homework so we'd understand the situation there fully. We did. It was grim. Mostar was massacred and when we saw the resultant city, we got it. Our hostel there was nice. It was small, cheap and had nice owners. The old town if mostar is beautiful. It was completely destroyed in 1995 but was removed with 11 million euros donated by sine eurozone countries. Its very small, cobbled streets and cramped shops. It had an old style beauty to it. Very touristy, thats a given and it was this very busy on these tiny winding roads but that didn't take away from its boutiquey prettiness. What is the main mostar attraction? The old bridge. Built by the Ottomans it was the only bridge, and had the longest arch, 30m, for a long time. It was nice. It was also the spit where locals jump off it Into the river 22m below. Thats very high. I get scared jumping off like 10. Some tourists also do it after a little intro course. It was funny, people give them money, its all good sport. A nice little watch. It was also well hot there, mid thirties. The water was freezing, maybe 10 degrees or lower, very refreshing but bloody freezing. We went for a few swims. We did another walking tour here, shock. It was good but not overly exciting. It was a nice few days capped off by me buying some new trainers. Fake adidas all stars. They look nice let's just hope they dont die on me. Bosnia has recovered a bit from its horrible recent history but is still baring a lot of the brunt of it. They have used the war to promote tourism which, while distasteful in that it caused so much damage and was so recent, has brought in money and promoted awareness of what happened here, or at least in our case. Its been good and I'll write another post after we've left Dubrovnik. What is dead may ever die. G.

[thejournalheist-blog]

Disclosures.

So yea, screw it. I’m too tired of this crap. So I’m listening to this playlist that I’m kinda foreign with, since I don’t really listen to it always. But like the line of this song I’m listening to that goes, ”gonna fuck it out” literally puts the way I’m feeling. So here I go.

Yeah, you’re my friend. She’s my friend. Ya both like each other and yep, I’m basically one of your couple band-aids that goes to the rescue whenever something’s wrong. Actually, as a matter of fact, I might be one of those overly used ones, mainly because I have the guts to spill this thing to the other. I’M BASICALLY A NO FILTER MESSENGER OH MY DARN.

but here’s the thing: I like you. Holy fuck right?

I told you that I liked you but whenever I fessed up and told you that I cover it up telling oh but I don’t like you anymore now, I like someone else now. BECAUSE DUH, I DIDN’T WANT TO GET AWKWARD. Annnddd, you drew the line a zillion times, yup. Not intentionally just slapped me with these omygosh-i-really-like-her-but-im-not-gonna-make-a-move moments hmmm I should prolly do a raincheck if you two are gonna argue again because you guys always do. It’s cute you know? It really is. So even when it hurts I have to give advices and what-nots to you both hmm.  But let’s get to the point. I like you and holy fuck it’s been say, 10 months and I FUCKING HAVEN’T BEEN OVER YOU YET.

Help me just help me.

Because I’m just tired okay?

-Having to feel whirls inside of me whenever we have remarkably memorable moments which I just restrain myself of enjoying too much I’d know it’ll hurt.

-Having to feel blue whenever you pesk me too much it just hurts

-Having to feel confused and frustrated OVER YOUR MIXED SIGNALS.

I MEAN ONE TIME YOU’RE ALL OVER THE PLACE, MY SPACE AND I WOULDN’T KNOW WHAT TO DO AND THE NEXT THING I KNOW YOU’RE AS DISTANT AS THE NEXT GALAXY--

and we even just breathe in the same classes together! TOGETHER! BECAUSE WE HAVE THE SAME CLASSES, COURSE EVEN! ugh.

-I’m tired of restraining. Fuck it. It’s either I show it(WHICH AS HECK I’M NOT GONNA FUCKING DO) or get rid of it.

-I’m tired of our pointless shenanigans when we try to talk every time something off happens between us--our friendship I mean, IT  JUST RANDOMLY TRANSFORMS INTO A DEBATE! LIKE HEY, OKAY I GET YOUR FUCKING POINTS BUT THAT’S NOT THE FUCKING POINT! and then the whole talk just goes to a larger hole in our prob and we’ll be like idiots just randomly fixing it anyway.

Remember that time on my 16th birthday? I was ignoring you before because, I was trying to get over you before I even reach 16. Yeah, some crazy unmature way. I mean I knew my feelings for you wouldn’t last that long anyway but I guess I was just too fucking sick of my feelings, these unhealthy feelings for you. So there. And when I decided to talk to you, you gave me the cold shoulder and I remember back then we stood there, because we’re in a Christian school and before and after classes we’d pray so there. While I was next to you, I asked if you were mad and you just raised your brow nonchalantly signifying yes, with a rather straight lined mouth, and I could feel the annoyance and the mood killing vibe coming off from you. I asked why and I got cut off with the opening prayer in Computer class. That moment ran with questions but one answer seemed ringing in my head already. Once the prayer ended, I asked why again and you nothing came out and I could tell that hmm this was a bad time so I let it pass until we got into the computer classroom. I was working fast on my seatwork and stuff and still the answer was still hanging in the air. So once the bell rang, we prayed and I caught up to you and I was like hey, why are you mad? AND THE FUCK YOU CONTINUED TO WALK DOWN THE DAMN HALLWAY ONLY THIS TIME IT WAS DAMN FASTER AND I GOTTA FUCKING ADMIT TO YOU IT WAS HARD CATCHING UP TO YOU LIKE HELLO I HAVE SHORT FUCKING LEGS AND YOU’RE THIS LEAN LONG LEGGED AND FOOTED GUY AND WHILE IT LOOKED LIKE I WAS RUNNING IT LOOKED LIKE YOU WERE JUST A GUY BRISKLY WALKING DOWN A FINE ALLEY AND YEAH, I KINDA LIKED THE PART WHERE I SAW YOUR FACE PISSED. Hehe, it was a little bit of pleasure that I finally cracked that nut and pissed you off. But while I was chasing you, I asked why over and over again, just to taunt. I thought you were even gonna blow up in the middle of the hallway or no, just ignore me and rub the annoyance on me but nah neither happened. We were one the first ones to get back to the homeroom(some guys were walking fast to huh, never noticed that before) and I was asking why again you intently stared blankly into me and said these unsurprising set of words I have thought of, but never really chose you’d reason out with,”Because you’re ignoring me without any reason”.

And I gotta admit at that moment I tried my hard not to snicker or laugh at your face or smile at this kind of reason but the annoyance level was so high I could tell and I didn’t wanna be rude.

Sooo, I made this long message(lol, it was in a memo and it wasn’t even long you def beat me at that game) and did a fucking farewell message like if this is how it’s gonna be then goodbye because it’s been days! A week even and I was only ignoring you for 2 or 3 days the fuck? yea so there. And then, I sent this to a REALLY close friend of mine who’s close with you too and there and lo and behold on my birthday I received these pics of screenshots from my really close friend and hah, I knew it was your reply the moment I saw the fucking first word and literally just rolled my eyes I did not want this bad vibe on my birthday so yeah this and that stuff and then it was night time and darn the whole thing just circled in my head so I read it and wow, never have I ever felt so misjudged and disappointed hmm so I messaged you telling I recieved your message and asked what exactly is it that you wanted AND HAHA your reply was, “It feels bad being ignored huh?” with that close eyes while smiling emoji and I’m just like, okay uh where’d that come from? because I wasn’t really feeling bad in being ignored I felt confused with your so-called points in our argument--I mean, clarifying messages so yea I was like,”Nah i’m actually fine, just frustrated with your words because you obviously didn’t put my message into your understanding that well” with the -_- emoji and told you I was tired with this shit because I’ve been trying for a few times this week and I’m just done all it mattered to me was what your whole main point was and you replied,”I really hate long messages you know that--” AND I DIDN’T KNOW. BOY WAS I AN ASSHOLE LOL “--specially if it needs to be subjective and substantial anyway my point is, DON’T YOU GO IGNORING PEOPLE RANDOMLY SPECIALLY IF IT’S JUST YOUR MOOD” and I,trying to hold my annoyance typed hard and fast,”I TOLD YOU BEFORE IT’S NOT A MOOD! I don’t know about you but you really didn’t read my initial points fuck” and I was annoyed as fuck now, and I was NOT gonna back out of this shit. and you pushed your points and I told you that you didn’t read the other parts in my note and I’m sending and typing and my internet connection suddenly slows the fuck down and i’m like I’M IN THE MIDDLE OF AN ARGUMENT I CAN’T FUCKING LOSE and you suddenly popped,”Okay I’m done arguing” and then another,”Sorry?” AND BOY WAS I NEVER FIRED UP HECK YOU DON’T DO THAT!!!  and I just continued and you asked sorry again and I told you a really long message about me not wanting to talk to you BECAUSE IT ALWAYS ENDS UP IN A DEBATE and you were all, ”ya” ”so I give up” “be honored” and I reply, “THE HELL YA WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU TRYING TO POINT OUT THIS TIME?” “nothing” “I back down” “You’re right :)” “I’m too insensitive”

and I tried to argue with you but you calmed the fuck down and something happened with your project and I was taunting you because I was on fire with rage and wanted to argue with you more and I guess you felt tired lol so you told me I could beat the shit out of you if it makes me happy so I was about to agree but I was too annoyed and I told you that you’re really a frustrating asshole and you greeted me happy birthday. WOW. THAT WAS IT. Sooo I told you I was gonna ignore you the whole day in class and stuff. 

So that day in class I completely ignored you and meh, once the clocks ticked 5 I messed your hair hair up and just continued saying “Hi, welcome back” and you’re just like that older brother who just let her little sister play with his hair, and we were like that. 

And now, you’re ignoring me again with no apparent reason. I miss you again asshole.

---

But hey, you know what? I like you. I really do. But meh, I’m contented. Still hurts, but you’re a big brother material. lol you will be once I’m not entranced by you and you told me we were family kind of friends, friends for a lifetime. anyway, I hope you’ll stop ignoring me soon I don’t even know what I did this time! ugh