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badlydrawnmanic · 3 years

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you’ve all wanted it, and i’m not ready to go to sleep yet, so here’s the latest installment of the sonic underground rewatch!

episode 6 thoughts under the cut!

• unrelated to the episode but there was some lego ninjago commercial that showed like. non-lego versions of the main characters and it looked nice. don’t know if it was for a show or the website idk i wasn’t paying attention • [GUITAR RIFF] SONIC- • i will literally never get tired of the opening theme and you can’t change my mind, i would die for a remaster of this. it doesn’t even have to be a cover. gimme a live performance and i will cry • “tangled webs”. spider concerns already • ooh, swatbot factory. interesting • manic just slid down a little rocky hill on his ass and that’s gotta hurt • sonia stop shining that laser pointer in manic’s eyes you’re gonna kill him • “switch six, switch six...” reminded me of the fun fact that your brain can only identify numbers up to a maximum of 4 or 5 at a glance, i forget which. but like... notice how if you only look at something very briefly you wouldn’t be able to immediately know “oh there’s 27 objects there” but you can very quickly identify 1-4 • sonia stop hitting manic with the drone what is wrong with you • some of these background characters are passable and some of them are hideous, there’s no in-between

• oh it’s the lion boy!! his voice is weird but it’s him!! • god dingo’s face is all kinds of fucked up in this close up as he’s talking • why is robotnik’s cape flowing so far behind him when he’s walking at a somewhat slow pace • i find it funny when eggman’s henchmen mock him when he’s not around, but i didn’t expect sleet to do that • “intruder .8 kilograms? what?? • how does it weigh a drone that is hovering in mid-air • somehow dingo identifies the drone as being piloted by sonia despite it being a hunk of metal with cameras on it • dingo being or looking like in the case of my headcanon a grown man and slobbering over sonia is kinda freaky (it’s partially why i made the hc so it’s less yikes but it’s still uncomfortable and i’m definitely gonna tone it down because fuck) • sleet don’t hit him!! • sonia is clearly frustrated during her conversation with manic (he’s being reckless as fuck) but the animators decided to give her a dead eyed smile for the whole scene • i wonder how they made the mechanical sounds? like the electronic shweeshweeshwee of the robots walking or the whoosh of doors opening? foley stuff is fascinating to me and i wanna know if they had to do any weird shit

• sleet is monologuing about how he hears the pitter patter of manic’s little feet and oh my god his eyes • how is dingo sneaking up behind manic he’s so fucking huge and noisy • sleet says “sylvia” before whacking the drone out of the air with what looks like an entire swatbot he just sort of picked up? i don’t get the reference and since when is he so strong • okay in the next shot it’s just an arm but still • “sometimes you just have to get their attention”? • cool transition between scenes with the camera glitching and shutting down from the perspective of the drone, that’s neat • dingo picks up sonia but wasn’t he just behind manic? once again the pacing is confusing me • “oh, ick” me too sonia • manic and sonia are tied up and were but in gigantic chairs and it looks so funny • “now, sarah” okay i get the “sylvia” thing now, sleet’s just forgetting sonia’s name somehow • sonia says “twit-face” and i feel like she could be more clever than that • “whatever, sophia” • “where’s sonic!?” [NYOOM] • sonic’s voice sounds... really weird, is that what jaleel white sounds like when he isn’t trying to sound all nasally and shit? also he burps and it’s gross • god the movement in this scene is very janky in general • sonia starts lecturing sonic but gets interrupted by a laser blast and manic pipes in like “can we talk about this later?” • sonia strong • is sonic just spilling lava everywhere??? • you’d think there’d be more sounds here • “am i good or what?” feels like it was pulled from satam? • “you’re insufferable” “thank you” • sonia’s voice is so shrill jesus christ • i feel like this is a pretty good confrontation of how sonic not working as a team with the other two can cause pretty significant problems • sonia i don’t think robotnik would throw you in prison, that’s what the roboticizer is for and i don’t think he’d keep y’all separate from that • cyrus does a weird double take and i think it’s an animation error • this cyrus kid is pretty sus- who is this hippie dude- • CYRUS SUS CYRUS SUS • there was deadass just a normal animal bird with some kind of accessory on its neck as a background character • damn it cyrus • SONG TIME??? • apparently no • once again manic and sonia are tied up which lasts 2 seconds • aosth slow-mo beam, purple flavor • what are these background characters they’re so ugly • OH NO I REMEMBER WHAT SANCTUARY IS NOW • children... i’d love to see the tiny babes but they’re undoubtedly ugly as fuck • ROBOTNIK WANTS TO MURDER CHILDREN • one of the kids looks like reptar • SONG TIME NOW • why is this so. idk, whimsical? idk how to describe this but i already don’t like it • they forgot to draw manic’s head quills in a shot • why is cyrus looking so pissed at these children • sounds like a weird off brand christmas song. don’t like it very much but i guess it isn’t bad. maybe a 2/10 • sdnjksg assaulting your siblings with a cloud of flour sounds fun if not wasteful but still, manic seems to be enjoying his little tech demo • sonia says “this place is gross” and manic goes “hey, you’re talking about my childhood home” and i think it’s a good thing that the show didn’t just forget where they all came from and how this can create very minor conflict between them? like manic and sonia seem to slight each other rather frequently when it comes to sonia’s attitude towards dirty places and manic finding it comfortable there due to familiarity even if it wasn’t all that good. i can relate to that • sonic walks off the right side of the screen after refusing some goggles then. pops up and puts on the shades again? i don’t get it • oh my god sonic knocks cyrus (and manic by extension) over and they literally just. rotate the asset in place and leave them planking. there wasn’t a water splash or change of pose or anything • how does sonic zoom past a swat bot looking directly at him without triggering any alarms? why didn’t it notice him • why are there so many regretful traitors on this show • how does sonic not notice the clearly a hologram man in front of him • god the animation in this episode in general is abyssmal • ah jeez manic and sonia have been captured again • “attention sonic hedgehog” • OH NO CYRUS’ DAD but the expression he made in response to seeing him roboticized killed it

• i know he didn’t snort here but i can feel the little “snrk” sound here. it was at this moment he knew he fucked up • PULL THE LEVER, SLEET • that little drone thing is fucking insane, it melted the entire roboticizer?? • i much prefer when background characters resemble actual animals • aww hug • poor cyrus :( • GOD SONIC AND SONIA SIT DOWN TO COMFORT HIM BUT MANIC LAYS DOWN ALL DRAMATIC JUST SMILING, READ THE ROOM BUD-

#sonic underground #ooc #not an ask #sonic underground rewatch!

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sadsappylee · 4 years

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Inexplicable

Spencer Reid x Reader

This is a ticket fic, if you don't wanna read that scroll my dude.

Every now and then, you would get into these warm, sunny moods for no apparent reason, and Spencer couldn't figure it out.

Derek would always joke that you must've gotten laid, but as a profiler he knew how to read you well enough to know it wasn't that. He couldn't tell what it was, and that was what annoyed him.

Today was a day like that, your unusually bright disposition had been going strong for a day or two before and today was no exception. He was quite frustrated actually, angry at himself for not being able to figure out what caused these periods of peculiar behavior.

He definitely wasn't complaining, he thought that you were rather adorable when you got like that, you would smile and laugh more, joke around with Morgan, and make nerdy references with Penelope and himself. You were often times the ray of sunshine that kept the team going during hard cases, and that was especially true when you had those periods of unexplainable potential energy. You had an arsenal of unbelievably warm oversized sweaters that you seemed to reserve for specifically times like this, which he thought suited you quite well.

There were downsides, of course. You seemed so tired, what he thought was a product if not being able to sleep due to heightened energy levels. You also seemed more distant, and (though the logical side of him knew this couldn't be caused by a simple mood) he couldn't shake the feeling that even your physical body was practically freezing cold. On top of that, you seemed to recede into your head more often.

He knew from experience that that was never a good thing.

This was what you had learned was called a 'lee mood'.

You had a pretty embarrassing secret- you really liked being tickled. Maybe it was because you liked the feeling of being able to trust someone enough to be completely vulnerable and helpless with them, or because you liked having an excuse to be carefree and laugh. It gave you a chance to just let go and be happy. You liked laughing, and you guessed that that just carried into the rest of your life that way.

You had these periods of time since as long as you could remember, but you had only just stumbled across the term a few weeks past after falling down a tumblr rabbit hole late at night. See, you and Spencer were alike in many ways, but one especially stood out- your pension for research in the face of confusion.

So, being the research prone person you were, that was what you did. The amount of firewalls and incognito tabs you put up to make sure no one ever saw said research was almost ridiculous, but you needed to find out why you were the way you were, or if other people were like this too. (Basically, what the literal hell was wrong with you)

That was the answer that you got, and apparently the answer was yes, other people were like you. That was how you found out that not only were these phases normal (for some people), but they had a name. It was still embarrassing, but at least you knew you weren't alone.

There were downsides to this too, of course. It wasn't all sunshine and giggly happy rainbow dreams or whatever.

It was being even further touch starved than you were usually, to the point that you thought you might genuinely cry if someone hugged you for too long. It was being almost constantly tired but unable to sleep, and it was having reason whatsoever for feeling that way. It was yearning to feel close to anyone, emotional or physical.

Still, you didn't exactly have an outlet for these moods, so they basically just came and went as they pleased, and for now, the mood seemed impossible to shake.

It had been going pretty strong for the duration of your case, and the case was finally over. It was hour (2? 3?) Of the flight back home, and everyone in the plane was asleep, bar you and Reid, whose nose was in a book while you listened to music.

You couldn't help but watch him while you listened, he was a fascinating person to look at, (and you had a bit of a crush on him) but he was especially fascinating while he was reading. He was a speed reader, but he always looked so concentrated and entertained. He was almost as enamored with reading as you were with him, and you couldn't help but watch him. It seemed almost....intimate.

He glanced up at you for a moment. Just a moment, and you knew he had caught you staring, knew he saw you. But you couldn't drag your eyes from his, so instead, you just kept looking.

The moment ended, and he looked up, not at you, not at his book, just vaguely forwards as if he was considering something. Whatever it was, it seemed he decided on it rather quickly, looking back down and dog-earing the page of his book before folding it gently closed and setting it down.

He stood up from his seat and walked swiftly towards you, he didn't speak , just looked your way with a slight smile, before dropping down into the seat right next to you. Once situated, he began to speak.

"You know, I've been trying to figure you out for the longest time," he started, observing you as he spoke. "Half the time you're a cold, calculating realist, leaning on the cynic side, and yet the other half, you're like this," he gestured vaguely with his hand.

"Well, I'm sorry I've been troubling you," you joked, a brow raised in his direction.

He rolled his eyes, falling silent for a bit. The tentativeness he usually held resurfaced when he looked around, scratching the back of his neck.

"You don't- I know I've known you for a while, and you seem alright with physical contact, but you don't, uhm, you don't have any problems with contact, right?"

You almost had to laugh. If only he knew, with how touch-starved you were? It might be impossible for you to have a problem with physical contact.

Then again, your mind wandered.

Mainly, to why Spencer was asking you that. Heat rushed through your cheeks as you considered all the possibilities of what he could've meant by that.

"I- well no, Spence, I don't," you cleared your throat. "I don't have problems with that, why?"

"Oh good," he spoke, ignoring your question as his confidence quickly returned.

Without any more warning, he reached out and tazed you in the side with his fingers, smiling slightly as you squealed, edging away from his hand.

"Spencer! What was that for?" You chastised, more than a little flustered, sure that your could feel the blush rise in your cheeks.

"I'm just...." He trailed off as if looking for the right words, a confused look (that you would never admit to thinking was adorable) for a mere moment before his head seemed to clear. "Let's call it testing a theory."

With that his hands latched to your sides, digging into the skin there and smiling as it pulled sweet laughter from you.

"See, I think that this is what you've wanted all along. Your moods, I haven't been able to figure them out, so I kept searching. I was worried about you. I thought maybe they were manic states, but you don't have any of the other traits of bipolar disorder. Then I thought maybe something good just happened to put you in a good mood, but nothing new had happened during those times either."

"ihihihi- ihihi hahahahave noho ihidehehehea whahat youhohohoure tahahalking ahabout!" You denied, attempting to stifle your laughter and batting his hands weakly away (though you didn't really want him to stop).

"So," he continued, rolling his eyes at your denial, "I started searching symptoms; often tired but rarely sleeping, brighter moods, hightened levels of elation, loosely bounded sense of humor. Now, I didn't find anything official, per sé, but I did find a quite interesting little section of the internet that offered up a pretty simple explanation," he smiled gently, continuing that sweet form of torture, and all you could do was laugh, clutching against his shirt. You chose to bury your head in his chest and save yourself from the embarassment of your reactions to his words.

"Did you know, it actually makes sense- laughter and physical contact are the biggest suppliers of the chemical dopamine," he explained, as if he wasnt currently tickling you to pieces. "When someone is touch-starved, they lack most of the dopamine that comes from physical contact, so the brain decides that the best way to replace that missing dopamine has to be some sort of human contact that results in laughter. Ergo- tickling." You just tucked your head further into his chest, attempting to muffle your laughter in his shirt and hide your steadily reddening face.

"Spehe-spehehehenceheher!" You giggled, unsure what to say and settling on his name. You knew there wasnt much of a point trying to hide that you obviously enjoyed this from Spencer so you just sat there and took it, hiding in his shirt, though you knew that by your red ears he could tell your face was flushed.

"Yeah (y/n)?" He asked far too casually, always attentive to what you had to say, while still continuing to tickle you senseless, scratching your sides, hands worming their way under the fabric of your sweater.

"Ihihi dohohohont- ihit tihihihihicklehehes!" You whined, aware that you weren't technically complaining or asking him to stop, also aware that Spencer knew that perfectly well too.

"I know," he tsked, feigning sympathy but continuing his actions, with a smirk that you could almost SENSE on his face. Admittedly, this interaction wasn't just for your sake, he was certain that hearing your laughter and seeing you lose your typically well-maintained composure like that was bringing him quite a bit of dopamine as well.

So, instead of trying to think of something else to say, you just clutched at his shirt to stop yourself from pushing him away, trying to keep your laughter in check so as to not wake up the rest of the team as you just let yourself feel the tickly sensations flooding through your nervous system. You practically melted when he moved one of his hands to spider up and down your back, falling into snorting giggles. The other moved to flutter behind your ears, and you sighed through your giggles. Your back and ears had always been some of your worst spots, but at the same time it was incredibly soothing, the kind of thing that could put you to sleep, and the conflicting feelings absolutely maddening.

"Oh, did I find good spots?" He cooed, noticing how you went limp in his arms, aside from the occasional squirm when he brushed against a bad spot.

Your skin tinged a further red, (if that was possible) at the teasing. "...Maha*hic*haybehehehe.." you squeaked, again realizing that there wasn't a point to trying to lie to Spencer.

"I'll keep that in mind."

He stopped for a moment to give you a break and you sat up to try and catch your breath.

"For now, i think that if we really wanna fix this mood of yours we should pull out the big guns," he teased pausing to make sure you were still doing alright before moving his one of his hands to flutter at your neck, while the other dropped to your knee and began squeezing, laughing along with you when you squealed and shot your hands up to cover your mouth and try to muffle your laughter, which had gone up significantly in volume.

He moved his hands so quickly, between squeezing at your knees, drilling his thumbs into your hips, clawing at your stomach, running his hands up and down your sides, and fluttering at your neck and ears, it felt like his fingers were everywhere at once, and you were barely holding it together. You moved to bite down on your sweater sleeve to muddle your desperate laughter, losing all coordination and thrashing as his hands continued their onslaught against your senses.

He grinned at your (franky rather adorable) reaction, laughing along quietly with you, finding it precious how you tried to hide what was clearly hysterical laughter. In reality, behind the muffling of your laughter, you felt that you were losing your mind at the sensations coursing through your veins. Still, you wouldn't have it any other way, pure glee shining through your eyes.

Just that look was worth doing the a million times over, and it was then that Spencer realized he needed/enjoyed this just as much if not more than you.

When your laughter started growing hoarse he slowly backed off, bursting into quiet laughter at the adorable, almost dissapointed puppy-dog look on your face when he stopped.

You sucked in air like you had never tasted it before, a few stray giggles slipping out to disrupt the silence. Spencer had stopped, but you could swear you still feel the ghosts of his hands against your skin, the tingling feeling still refusing to leave your body, leaving you flustered and giggly.

But you were happy.

Elated, actually. What he said about the endorphins produced from what had just transpired must've been true, because you felt almost lightheaded, warm and pleasantly tired and unable to stop smiling.

You were still on his shoulder, practically laying on him, though he had long since stopped.

Neither of you minded

You hadn't really been able to be this kind of tired in a long, long time. You felt like you could fall asleep right there and then. You'd forgotten how nice it was.

"...thank you."

The words came out of your mouth before you could stop yourself, and you shifted your eyes down, flushing bright red in embarassment after realizing what you had just said.

For a moment, Spencer studied you. Leaning against him, head against his shoulder, cuddling into his side.

You looked tiny.

It was the first time he'd ever really realized how strikingly small you were. In the field you were tough. You seemed so much more formidable than the fragile looking person curled into his side.

Your sweater sleeves were down way past your hands with one sleeve slipping off your shoulder and your undershirt untucked and rumpled. Your flushed complection, eyes closed, the hair sweat-stuck to your forehead, out of breath and panting slightly. You looked like you had just walked through a hurricane, the only indication of what REALLY happened being the soft smile plastered to your face, and the occasional quiet giggle slipping in between your breathing.

You looked absolutely breathtaking.

"Any time," he spoke softly.

He looked down at you, and he could swear his heart melted. You had fallen asleep on his shoulder, and you'd never looked more peaceful.

He could get used to life being like this.

#fanfic #tickle community #tickle fic #ticklish reader #ticklish!reader #criminal minds #dr spencer reid #cm

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noobsomeexagerjunk · 4 years

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thoughts on starry after multiple listens

(dated July 8, 2020 because i might make another one)

Edit: I SHOULD FACT CHECK MORE

the Starry soundtrack is as impressionist as the painters it invokes by energy alone, which is impressive given the style of music used (of which i’m fine with, but not partial to)

the Prologue does this right off the bat

the people of Monmartre are very critical of the rest of France and I adore it

i can feel theo’s overwhelment in Impress Me

Impress Me does a wonderful job at introducing the setting of the show

that song is a ball of pulsating yearning—no wait that’s the whole show

Theo got so stressed he walked blindly into Madame Segatori’s cafe

learning that the Le Tambourin was named as such due to its tambourine aesthetic via Vincent’s portrait of Segatori is just incredible to me; the table is shaped like a tambourine

“If Paris is the world, Monmartre is Bethlehem; and art is our Amen” sounds so powerful

A New Horizon is so warm

i expect Theo and Vincent to be very cuddly with each other everytime they interact

“dream with me, dear brother” is the energy of this song

french wheat fields will forever haunt me because of this damn musical

*insert Do You Like the Color of the Sky? post here*

like, so much emphasis to the sky

Vincent’s dreaming leaking into Theo’s trading practice surely must be a sight to see

chain imagery hits hard after hearing Wheat Fields/Finale Ultimo

in this yellow house, we dream of freedom

“should I really take this giant risk?” “brother, I took a giant risk coming here—fuck yeah do it!”

United in Distaste reeks of Vincent’s intimidation—it has new kid in school energy and I am living for it

Vincent coming to Monmartre (and when he arrives in Arles) like “Hey, I’m new in town, and it gets worse,”

Bernard has apparently spent enough time with Theo to be able to identify Vincent by frowning alone

Rude of Gauguin to yoink Vincent’s painting like that; Segatori immediately hangs it tho—

Gauguin sounds like he’s going to corrupt anyone who approaches him—dude announces his horny nature during his introduction

Gauguin IS a savage and a whore and the best thing about that is that he knows it; even better knowing the vision of his costume

Segatori’s displeasure throughout the song implies that the artists that frequent her cafe also argue amongst themselves frequently

“keep in mind that we’re academic rejects, Vincent”

with the way Degas, Pissarro, and Morisot tease at Gauguin (noting that Gauguin, Bernard, and Toulouse-Lautrec are together in a later song), it sounds like they’re are hurling insults from a separate tambourine table

Toulouse-Lautrec sounds dramatic; Bernard sounds like he’s not sure where he is artistically—both are a mood

Of the post-impressionist table, the only one retaliating with genuine insults is Toulouse-Lautrec; Bernard and Gauguin only end up defending themselves while Toulouse was ready to tear down Degas and Morisot

Pissarro IS old (at this period in time in the musical) damn

Morisot is unyielding with her insults, “speaking of size—“ holy shit oh no

i reiterate—why is Toulouse-Lautrec the only one actually speaking in a French accent; almost everyone there is French

since I’m aggressively referring to him, I think Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec merits a musical of his own, and that’s based on what first learned about him when I first listened to Starry

by extension, also Berthe Morisot

Monmartre’s artists be like “We’re very critical of ourselves and each other, and while that’s worth being intimidated by, don’t be intimidated by us! What do you have to bring to the table, foreign painter?”

Something poetic about how what Vincent wants being what all the artists want hereby making him a member of their squad is so warm to me—galleries are gravity INDEED

“We will embrace the madness we design, or lose our mind,” IS THIS FORSHADOWING BECAUSE IT FUCKING SOUNDS LIKE IT

“i am loving this! YES, GET ANGRY!” if only i can identify who said this

Something After All is directed towards Vincent, right? It better be, I lack context

Theo’s yearning is so relatable and I fear not being able to fulfill it

bless Kelly and Matt for giving Jo so much depth in Enlightenment

apparently she deadass learned English for the purpose of translating the letters she had compiled??? yo i love that

poetic how Jo invokes making a legacy since she’s the one who actually preserves her brother-in-law’s legacy (and by extension, herself and her husband’s legacies)

at first listen, i immediately drew a comparison to Hamilton’s Eliza; Jo is better both musically and literally, given that Vincent van Gogh is far more relevant than Alexander Hamilton will ever be, even with LMM’s musical

not trying to start beef, just an observation

Jo’s yearning is also such a mood

fire, light, and road imagery being invoked huh

it is by this point i’ve to the realization that the reasons one goes to Monmartre that was cited in Impress Me tie in very well to the individual characters’ desires in this show

Where Are We Going? goes so hard ugh yes

“I need a stronger strategy to seize my immortality!” Gauguin’s incredible ambition is the root of his dissatisfaction; doesn’t help that he’s impulsive both in the musical and IRL

Toulouse prioritizes integrity and Bernard prioritizes progression—I wonder what this means for their characters in the show

Toulouse and Bernard calling Gauguin out on his known shitty behaviors feels like they’ll be problems Vincent will have to deal with in Act 2, when they live together

this is where Gauguin leaves for Martinique, right???

which one is the act 1 closer, really??? The Sower or The Road??? help me please

everyone in town is really concerned for Vincent

it wams me how much Segatori believes in him

Bernard’s right, Vincent van Gogh’s artstyle IS a melting pot

learning that Toulouse-Lautrec capitalized on his art during the peak of his career really adds weight to his concerns on Vincent’s inability to sell

i like to imagine the everyone’s in the gallery during The Sower

Theo and Jo’s relationship progressing as Vincent’s works don’t sell hits upon realization

Theo falling hard when he learns that he and Jo yearn for the same thing tho

recontextualizing the imagery that Vincent found beauty in into imagery that demonstrates his person is just mighty good of Kelly and Matt

then again, so much of his person is in the artwork to begin with

“and everyone knows your reap what you sow.” w o a h!!!

The Road starts like a dramatization of one of Vincent’s breakdowns and how he copes with them, or perhaps this starts after one??? The opening verses suggest a lot

also ties his road to his dream of freedom with what i believe is his travel to Arles

“North, South, East, West—navigate from inside you,” = “With conscience as my compass,”

“i am guided towards the night” this Vincent knows the answer but is so clearly far from its reach and is desperately trying to figure out how to

soul of fire, crystal heart and blizzard-like brain; the man is passionate and everyone knows it

“Fascinating, but maybe just a little too soon,” sounds like that at this point, Toulouse-Lautrec and Bernard genuinely recognize and admire Vincent’s talents, but also understand that the world is still against him and that they have the experience to prove it

the “sunlight and storms” imagery always concern Theo, Jo, and Vincent’s relationship with each other

Gauguin popping up in this song with the compass imagery implies the show’s going to make him a pretty interesting foil to Vincent; this sounds like him traveling back to Paris, or at least him attempting to vibe in Martinique

this hurts when you remember what happens to Vincent

“curse of the gifted” is a phrase i am too afraid to understand

DYLAN SAUNDERS CAN SLAY ME WITH HIS VOICE

The Yellow House sounds yellow somehow

who clears their throat before writing a letter???

Gauguin’s frustration’s against Vincent’s admiration of him is amusing

sounds like Gauguin hasn’t found his “freedom” yet

Theo is one generous fellow

this arrangement lasts for only 2 months; given the apparent span of this musical, The Yellow House is a very “calm before the storm” song

wait a minute—

apparently, Vincent REALLY admired Gauguin and was so excited for his arrival at the yellow house

i fear the dramatization of their disagreements

“Don’t tell Theo I said that,” it amuses me how the van Gogh brothers’ relationship is so well-known to these painters

based on the gifs lurking, the ear incident WILL be dramatized and I am terrified for my heart on how it will be depicted

Sunlight and Storms quotes the original letter from Jo to Vincent surprisingly well (i attempted to read some—there’s so many! this was one of the first ones i came across)

this song hurts when it hits how little time Jo and Theo had together as a married couple

I am convinced a lot happened between Sunlight and Storms and On the Threshold of Eternity

this definitely was after a breakdown

i skip this song just so i don’t think about the obvious implications, i must confess

the meaning of “sunlight and storms” hits the hardest here

“we will not let your illness keep you from finding your freedom”

The Red Vinyard is so full of a brother’s love

this hits me, and i speak as an only child

“You’ve carried me more than you’ll ever know,” AH—

when Theo finally sees the new horizon, Vincent is seeing it too

and what Vincent saw he put on a fucking canvas

“i can see it—a new horizon” = “the sight of the starry night”

they say that at the time, not much was thought of the iconic painting

i could only wonder what might’ve happened between The Starry Night and Wheat Fields

all the piano motifs coming together in Wheat Fields/Finale Ultimo, just like that

“I’m ready for harvest time” is melodically similar to “The road is bright”, particularly when it’s just Vincent singing the line alone

despite the obvious, I don’t think I’ll grasp the meaning of the final song; i also skip this one so i don’t think about it

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misha-moose-dean-burger-lover · 5 years

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College au- we're the only two people in this club. What is this club even for + sastiel

"Excuse me, I'm sorry, am I la-" Castiel pauses, freezing mid-step as he sees the hall absolutely empty, save just one guy sitting on the third bench - neutral good, his brain has somehow conjured up, before he can stop it for being that weird. Castiel has never seen this guy before, but for a moment, he can't stop looking - the stranger has boyish bangs brushing over his brows, and a beautiful face - lips drawn into an obvious frown, as he looks down at his phone screen, not having heard or noticed Castiel. He's in an oversized grey Stanford hoodie, and is massaging his head with one hand, with his sleeves pulled up just enough to put on display a pair of slim wrists, as he types away using his other hand on his phone nimbly.

Though the guy has still not noticed him, Castiel feels a shiver go through his spine as his manners perhaps return all at once, and he looks away - this time, at the blackboard, which has absolutely nothing written at the place where the name of the club should've been.

"Why -" He begins, and no sooner has he uttered a single word that the guy in the hoodie is looking up at him and standing up instantly. And he has got to be at least 6'5, so Castiel can almost imagine him towering over him when they stand closer.

"Go -" Castiel can see him almost wishing him a good morning - Dammit, it is kind of embarrassing to almost have gotten confused with the club mentor - before he probably realizes that Castiel looks more his age. Probably to confirm, he says, in an uncertain tone. "Wait a second. Hey?"

And shit, that's a wonderful voice too. "Uh, hey." Castiel hurriedly replies, walking towards him, so that he doesn't have to yell from the teacher's stand. "I'm not - I mean, not at all, okay? I don't even know what this club is for, like hell I'd be mentoring it."

The other guy blinks, and after a moment, seems to find this piece of information very amusing. "Would you believe it? Me neither!"

Castiel pauses. "Really?"

The guy nods, with an easy smile. "I know, it sounds ridiculous. But I was really drunk when I accepted this pamphlet from this one guy, okay? Can't even remember his name now, though we had a whole conversation about this "club" - I think - but it was a typical white guy's name, and well, whatever. It was like an extension of my brother's 'don't take a joint from a guy named Dan' speech. Then, I don't know, but when I woke up today, I didn't remember what it was about or anything but I had multiple reminders set in my phone, at various points in the morning - and all of them telling me to get to this room, at 3 pm, for club. That's it. Club." He snorts at himself, incredulously. "The last time I left a reminder for myself drunkenly was about a deadline that had been preponed, and I suffered 'cause of it, so I didn't take any risks and showed up. But guess what? Drunk Sam can be all strict about timings and crap, but not the purpose of doing things." He's offered his hand to Castiel while he speaks, and Castiel takes it in his.

"Honestly? I wouldn't be able to relate. I do procrastinate through amazing lengths of time when I'm sober, but drunk Castiel is all about the purpose of doing things. I've been known to be a pretty philosophical smartass." He confesses, and is a little bit stunned at how openly he's conversing with this guy - no, Sam - who he didn't know, till a few minutes ago.

"Well, I guess if you'd been with me then, we could've probably known what this club was friggin' for." Sam winks, and Castiel is stunned because he just got winked at, but before he can fry his braincells some more about this, Sam rushes, "I thought I was hungover, but I'm just now realizing that I might have a little alcohol left in my system. So, uh, shut me up if I get weird, okay?" Castiel smiled, as he nodded. before adding his own question. "And, what's your excuse for not knowing why we're here, Castiel?"

"It's kind of a ridiculous one." Castiel admits. "My mother thinks I don't do enough things for a college-kid, and asked my cousin to set me up for things. Like I need someone else to plan my life for me. Especially someone like Gabriel -" He could've easily talked for hours on that line, because Sam was listening with clear hazel eyes and interest - but then he remembered that Sam didn't know him or Gabriel that well. "And well, I had to do what they plotted for me, so out of spite, I didn't read any brochures." He ends, awkwardly.

"A weird kind of spite." Sam says, throwing his head back and laughing gloriously, as Castiel feels his eyes inevitably staring at his neck. He reprimands himself, and averts his eyes, wondering when he crossed the threshold from frustrated to so incredibly frustrated, that he couldn't keep his eyes to himself?

"I was a confused rebel, okay? Had to let it out somehow, and it couldn't have been acapella."

Sam stares at him in disbelief. "You -"

"No, don't look at me like that," Castiel babbles. "I just meant - I was simply looking for sympathy regarding the fact that I had to spend yesterday in acapella club, okay?"

Sam laughs once again. "Dude, you're hilarious, and I have nothing but sympathy for you, okay?" And for the first time, Cas doesn't turn away a compliment, and smiles himself. Hell, this guy was doing things to him.

Sam stops laughing eventually, but the gigantic, and stupidly contagious smile remains.

Castiel basks in it.

And doesn't realize that it's almost a full minute of complete silence - with Sam's laughs he earned, still ringing in his ears, and Sam seeming to be as distracted as he is. It is as if they're both shaken out of their reverie synonymously, as their eyes meet.

"Uh." Castiel says, eloquently.

"Yeah." Sam sighs, straightening his face into a concerned frown. "Let's start worrying where the rest of our club is, shall we?"

"How about we start worrying with where the mentor could be?" Castiel suggests, wryly. "I mean, even if this were a really unpopular club and we turn out to be the only two members - there has to be a professor with us too, right?"

"Yep." Sam agrees, glancing at his watch. "I've been here almost fifteen minutes now."

"Well, I showed up ten minutes after it was supposed to start, because I wanted to get into their bad books." Castiel gestures with a tilt of his head at the lecturer's stand at the front, which was completely empty.

Sam chuckles at that, and honestly, Castiel can't believe that this guy found him funny, because people rarely ever did. Castiel likes him a little more, just for that.

There's a sound outside the door, and Sam hails the janitor there. "Hey, excuse me! Here!" He calls, and the man in the uniform walks in the door - giving them weird stares, as he accepts that they're the only ones in that huge hall. Sam goes on. "Isn't there supposed to be like a club here or something?"

The janitor gives them another look, and then wordlessly shakes his head.

"Are you sure, because we could bet we were told to come here," Castiel joins in, with an apologetic smile.

"I don't know," He says, this time. "Maybe there is. There's a new club almost every week now, so there's a chance you're not wrong."

"You think you could go check with someone for us?" Sam asks this time, pleading. Castiel sees what he's doing - using his large, brown eyes to try and convince the man to do it for them. Whoa, that has got to be effective, because the janitor who was pretty disgruntled already, nods slightly. There's a fleeting thought in Castiel's own head, that he's never going to stand half a chance against Sam looking at him like that - if such a situation ever arose.

"I'll take a look at the timetable for y'all." The janitor says, and Castiel and Sam thank him in unison as he leaves.

Sam shrugs at Castiel. "Well, that's the best we can do for now." And Castiel silently nods, exhaling. "I don't wanna go back to my room yet, 'cause my roommate has his girlfriend over, so I guess I'm going to wait some more." And Castiel doesn't even need to be asked - he's waiting too.

Maybe he lives an incredibly dull life, but there's no place he'd rather be.

Some more time passes, and Castiel is leaning on a desk now, quiet; and Sam is sitting on one, his legs swinging slightly.

"This is weird." Sam declares, after another beat of silence, which didn't seem like any time at all. "We're literally the only ones here."

"We're the only members of this club." Castiel adds, glancing at his watch once again. It's late, now. "And I'm gonna be bold enough to say that we're probably gonna be the only members of this club forever."

He leans into the space between them, and Sam does too.

"Because," He adds, in a mock whisper. "I don't think anyone else knows this club exists."

And then Sam is laughing again, and Castiel is staring at him, with fascination. Because this guy is perfect. He laughs at the things he says, and has a beautiful laugh and a contagious smile, and is tall and nice, and -

"You know what?" Sam interrupts him. "This might seem weird, but just because we're the only ones here doesn't mean it can't be a club."

Castiel raises his eyebrows.

"Because clearly now this is our club." He justifies. "I'm the founder, because I showed up first, and you can be president, because I don't think I like politics." Castiel chortles at that, but Sam keeps going. "And we could totally lead this club."

"By ourselves?"

"By ourselves." Sam beamed, and Castiel has to stifle his own laughter because Sam has this serious - and Cas can't tell if its deadpan, sarcastic or sincere - look in his eyes; but anyone could tell now, that he is at least a little bit tipsy.

"Fine, then. What's the first order of action?" Castiel queries, going with it, because why the hell not? "And don't quote me on that, I don't think that's a real phrase."

"I think it is." Sam assures him. "And the first action is that we need to go get some coffee." He pauses, and Cas looks at him, waiting. "Together." He brightly suffixes, and Castiel all but melts at his smile.

"That's an activity I can get behind," Castiel tells him, as they both straighten and begin to walk out of the hall they'd been waiting in - for club, to goddamn start - since the last half hour. "Excellent idea, Mr. Founder."

"Oh, Mr. Founder is my dad, Cas. I'm just Sam." Sam grins, and it doesn't quite make sense - because Sam might have been growing more drunk through the course of their conversation or maybe Cas has just started to notice it.

Because he notices that Sam may have just called him by a shortened version of his name, and he can't stop smiling because of it. "Alright, Sam." He mumbles, mostly to himself. "I hope you're not drunk enough to realize that you just asked me out."

But then Sam, really slowly, takes his hand and entwines their fingers, and at this point, he can't seem to mind anything anymore - not even the fact, that maybe the latter heard him say that.

(Not much later, the janitor comes into the hall to announce that there was no 'club' supposed to be there, though he did find a note in mostly-unreadable handwriting near where the timetable was pinned, addressed to 'Cassie' and 'Samsquatch' from (a not-very-anonymous) anonymous.)

***

Okay, so I wasn't sure if my taglist would all be interested in this, so I'm only tagging the people on my list who I think MIGHT be into it: @petrichoravellichor @rauko-is-a-free-elf (both of you, I am in love with the prompts you've sent, and I promise I'm working on it uwu) @screamatthescreen @3dg310rdsupreme @hellfire37 @noemithenephilim @impulsivedandelion @ladywaywarddsc @all-or-nothing-baby @moderatelypanickedbiromantic @iamcharliebradburylevelperfect

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clumsybookworm18 · 5 years

Text

and my burden to bear is a love (i can’t carry anymore) | pt.2

Jossam + Ghost AU

Summary: After the events of Blackwood, Josh’s ghost is stuck in limbo. Sam is the only one that can see him (much to her chagrin) and has to put up with his ghostly persistence. Who knew that even in the afterlife he could be so annoying.

[Read on AO3], Moodboard, part 1 / 3 / 4

Josh watches.

Whoever said death was peaceful was full of shit.

For him, death was cold. It was lonely. It was boring as fuck.

After the monster- Hannah- squashed his head, Josh didn’t immediately realize he was dead. The first few days had been the worse. It took him awhile to notice he wasn’t hallucinating. That his friends had made it out of the mountain but he didn’t. And that he never would. Not alive at least.

Needless to say, Josh didn’t like to dwell on his current circumstances.

He had tried to communicate with the others. Had wanted to make them understand that he was still here. That he wasn’t really gone. But nothing worked.

Josh refuses to believe he sucks at being a poltergeist. Completely unacceptable. Joshua Washington, son of horror mogul Bob Washington, did not suck at scaring the shit out of people. If anything, his prank on Blackwood proved exactly that. Even if things turn out the way he wanted at the end.

Finally, he has the inherent ability to scare the shit out of people that comes with the territory of being a ghost and these assholes don’t even let him have a go at it. Even Chris didn’t react when Josh tumbled over a few stuff at his place. The dude survived a night in a mountain full of supernatural creatures and still doesn’t believe in ghosts. His friends- if he can still call them that- were the worst at getting haunted. That was the only explanation.

She was an exception.

Josh watched as Sam roamed around in her room, preparing for the day ahead of her. She moved slower now, her movements heavier, as if there were a weight pressing in on her. That energetic edge she had about her gone.

Sam was the only one that actually interacted with him. Even if she thought he was a hallucination and ignored him most of the time, it still didn’t change the fact that she could hear him, that she talked back to him, and as recent events showed...

She saw me.

Josh was still processing it, trying to figure out how the fuck he did it. He was still learning what he could do, trying to understand how to manipulate his surroundings. He knew the basics, of course. It was the things that took more… concentration, to say the least, that were giving him trouble. Like a child who has already mastered their gross motor skills but was still honing their fine ones. But if Sam saw him then Josh must be doing something right.

He still couldn't believe it, after all these months…. He remembered the shock and grief on her face, the panic creeping into her eyes. It wasn’t exactly the reaction he was aiming for- at least not from her- but it was better than nothing.

Josh goes to stand behind her as Sam plops down in front of the dresser mirror, both of them looking at her reflection. Her pale face stares back at herself, and unknowingly at him, her hazel eyes bright but hollow above her sharp cheekbones. Her lips thinned as she tried, and failed, to gather her hair into a bun, the blonde strands slipping between her fingers. It had been months since The Big Chop, as he likes to call it, but it was still too short, barely beneath her chin now.

He recalled the feel of his thumb brushing against the nape of her neck, the way her long waves tumbled down her naked back. How his fingers threaded through the soft tresses, savoring those rare moments Sam decided to let her hair down. Both literally and figuratively.

Again Sam tried to amass her hair, letting out a sigh when the strands fell back to her face.

Josh thought it suited her.

Giving up the fight with her hair, Sam strode over to her armoire, yanking open the doors, her hands pushing and pulling the clothes as she searched. Josh tried not to react as she walked right through him. It still freaked him out a bit when people do that.

It was frustrating. Watching as she wasted away. Not able to do anything about it. Reduced to a useless presence, a mere bystander watching from the sidelines, useless to help her like he couldn’t help his sisters.

So Josh being Josh did what he was best at: run his mouth off.

“Going out today, are we?” he teased as Sam kept aggressively rifling through the clothes, pretending she couldn’t hear him. “I wonder what could be so important that put moping around in your sweatpants on hold.”

Sam didn’t answer him but Josh already knew. He’d seen the text Emily sent her last night, asking Sam to meet her for brunch this morning. Good. She needed to get out and distract herself. As delightful as those creepy paintings of hers were, Josh was bored of watching her being cooped up all day.

Besides, he enjoyed watching her squirm when he chattered her ear off in front of other people, trying to keep her features on line and her scowling to a minimum everytime he says something to deliberately provoking. It takes a lot to get on Sam’s nerves, oh but once he does, it’s so worth it. Just because he’s dead doesn’t mean he can’t have fun.

Sam clenched her jaw but still didn’t acknowledge him, her search becoming more vicious. Every once in awhile she’d pull something out, only to frown at it and put it back in.

Josh smirked, peering over her shoulder. “Look at you, actually making an effort to look like a lady.”

Sam abruptly stopped her ransacking. Slowly, she pulled a dark blue sweater- his sweater. The one he left the last time he stayed over. He’d left that morning on a haste, eager to get back to Blackwood, his plan already in motion.

He had been a fool.

Her hand brushed against the soft fabric of its sleeve, the touch feather light. Her other hand glided down her necklace, finding purchase in the key resting atop her breastbone. Blinking furiously, she swept it aside just as brusquely as when she stopped, before finally pulling out a long sleeved dress and slipping it on.

He found it fascinating how Sam could put moments like this aside as if nothing happened, yet still clung to what happened in the mountain. Letting it consume her. It had been over half a year now, and she was still a ghost.

The irony wasn’t lost on him.

The fabric of her dress slid over her shoulder as she bent over to tug on her ankle boots, her collarbones jutting over the loose collar. She was so thin. So damn thin. Had she noticed how much weight she’d lost?

Does she even care?

Sam kept going on her gloomy way, oblivious to his worrying. When she was already halfway down the hallway she paused, half turning, those hazel eyes searching.

Josh crossed the space between them. His gaze raked over her face, looking for some kind of recognition, a sign.

Look at me. He begged silently at her. I’m right here. Look at me.

Sam shivered. Her eyes flickered over to where he was standing, and for a moment, just for a moment, something like hope dared to flare in his chest.

He wanted her to know. He wanted her to see. He was here. He never left.

Just as fast as it happened, her gaze slid right over him, unseeing.

The feeling in his chest sunk, instantly swept by a spark of frustration.

The lights flickered. Once. Twice.

“Freaky...” Sam whispered to herself. She opened the door, throwing another look over her shoulder before walking out.

Josh wasn’t going to stand on the sidelines anymore.

***

She couldn’t sleep.

It was going to be one of those nights, it seemed. Full of tossing and turning, sleep failing to come to her as easily as it did before. The frustrating thing was that she was actually tired- so tired. Had spent all day fighting the immense heaviness that now lived inside her. But as soon as her head hit the pillow…

Sam sighed sharply, pushing the covers away. A lick of cold went down her spine, sliding along her bones. She ignored the way it made her skin prickle. At the implication of why, exactly, she was so fidgety.

It had been a few weeks since the Josh incident, or whatever it had been. She hasn’t told anyone about it, nor she planned to. Hell, nobody even knew that she could hear Josh talking to her in the first place. Not her mom. Definitely not her friends. They already worried enough.

For something she had come to consider as a minor blip, Sam had been going around the matter a lot. There were a bunch of plausible explanations for why she’d seen him. Stress. Lack of sleep. Maybe she had smelled a bit too many paints that day. Maybe she had a brain tumor. Or maybe-

You’re overthinking things.

Sitting up and turning on the lamp by her bed, Sam grabbed the diary stowed away on her bedside table for times like this, already full of entries and drawings that typically wouldn’t be in a diary of a girl her age.

So what if Sam saw him- or thought she did. She hears his voice in her head all the time, which lately had been more insufferable than usual. She was making a big deal out of nothing.

And yet the feeling of being watched never went away.

Wait, why am I still racking my brain over this? And when the hell did it get so cold in here?

As if summoned by her thoughts, a deep voice drawled, “And here I thought you’d be catching up on some z’s right now.”

Ah, there he was. The bane of her existence.

“Can’t sleep?”

“Go away, Joshua.” she said, not really in the mood to deal with this bullshit tonight.

He chuckled, the sound low and soft. “Joshua? You must be really pissed.”

“Am I? Gee I hadn’t noticed.”

“So grumpy tonight, Sammy.”

Sam scowled and kept scrawling stubbornly on her diary. Maybe if she ignores him, he’ll go away.

Another chuckle. “Can you at least tell me what’s got your panties in a twist?”

She squeezed her eyes shut. Not real.

“Saaaaam.” he went on.

Silence.

“Sammy.”

Sam still didn’t answer.

There was no quip from him this time, and Sam almost sighed in relief but kept her mouth shut instead, trying to bask in the seconds of peace that, somehow, she knew wouldn’t last very long.

She startled at the caress of something on her ankle, letting out a curse as her back slammed with the headboard.

“I figured that would get you to stop ignoring me.”

She lifted her eyes, immediately regretting her decision as they zeroed in on the source of her distress.

Sprawled on the foot of her bed was Josh, head propped up by a hand and smirking.

#chapter 3 already on AO3!#until dawn #josh washington #sam giddings #jossam #josh x sam #ghost au #until dawn au #ghosts #ud sam #ud josh #until dawn fanfiction #jossam fanfiction

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twinflameshardcore · 7 years

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Human-angelic inner war

Firstly, if you are on a verge of breaking up with the true twin, hold on. There’s a strong solar wind operating on Earth now but we felt it earlier and it was very disturbing for senses and mentality during the last 3 days. Our light bodies are lhuge and are anchored in us but spread into the atmosphere and above so we feel everything what’s going on there - solar flares, winds, near-Earth asteroids passing and anything affecting the electro-magnetic field.

I was so angry and sad during the last few days that I only anted to quit with everything and float away into a limbo. The void which was never useful now seems to be the only environment, to close my eyes and forget myself and everything. No drugs.

There’s a mad Mars/Saturn square which will be triggering the ego for 2 weeks. Mars - I am warrior, I’ve my power, I do things my way, I hate being stuck, I’m too impatient to stay and wait any longer. Saturn - I’ve prepared life for you. Participate.

Additionally, there’s Mars in Gemini (my natal :/) which hates feeling ‘abandoned’, ‘misunderstood’ and having no communication with those who it wants to share with. It adds impatience even more. The problem is there’s no motivation, no goals, no missions, everything feels completely dead and it’s irritating. Everything what was t be ditched which felt naturally because our vibration had changed (lower to higher) made us float away from people and places, jobs we no longer felt belonging to. Yet nothing was offered in advance.

This is so frustrating that I’m finding myself beyond myself. I just don’t want to be in my body anymore, not on Earth. I want to be with my galactic family, on a spaceship, detached from anything low vibration. The worst to me are people who do not heal themselves but worry of others. Like that fake service to others. They feel like a big black hole and they can suck in. People who live in the past are another example, they block the energy flow and any progress. You know how it feels if you live in a city which is old and full of museums, and where local and national newspapers return to the past all the time, to dead people, past events, war events. Places where governments spend thousands of $ to build yet another monument for a dead person yet those alive are struggling with establishing own identity and are unable to move on in life because they’re unsupported. Unfortunately it is taking a toll on us now, while we’re literately, energetically forced to detached from lower vibrations, from the dead energy because our own body/soul vibration cannot handle this anymore. The body’s ‘door’ had been closed. The body has no capacity to process that old vibration yet there’s no where to go as directions, goals were not provided. Andrew Bartzis, the Galactic Historian who has access to his own DNA and deeper knowledge said that a museum is a place which stores blocked energy, and this feels unhealthy. I hate going to museums, I hated it already as I was a child - as students we had to visit a few with a teacher. I felt as if objects of the past tried to suck energy from me because they weren’t left alone, buried underground and I felt dry and depressed when I left outdoor where there was life and motion.

All these made me figure out that currently there’s an inner war between our human and our angelic energies. It may well feel like this:

Human (Mars & Draco origins, 40 years old, dissatisfied, sad, angry, mid-life crisis, feeling like losing it all, follows the brain; complains): You’re aging and you’ve achieved nothing. You were more satisfied having sex with others before you met that ‘twinflame’ but you had lived afar for so many years. It’s making you look old, sad, you stopped going out, stopped meeting people. You’ve never exposed your beauty enough, you’ve never chosen a career, you’ve never left to live in another city or country, you’ve never gone for what you wanted, you’ve wasted all what you are. Look at others, they use life, they move, drive, have connections, families, boyfriends, they go to places. Even people who have talents like you do something about them. And yes, I’ve tried many things but each time they never felt perfect enough.

Angel (Galactic origins, billions years old, sad, dissatisfied but still hoping, subconsciously remembering what he was promised but rewards are not coming, follows the heart): I never knew what I wanted on Earth, this is not my environment. I was always too sensitive to go for the boxed, established, material, stiff, dry and logical = career. I was pushed here yet I was taken away all my former skills which didn’t need any additional learning. Vibrational density here is unbearable, makes me choke. I’m no more able to create with thoughts or will in this density. Humans do not understand my energy, my greatness, my being One with everything, my detachment from the material. Humans want to talk ordinary things instead of sharing great thoughts and ideas. They don’t read others via their hearts, their inner scanner but they judge based on the eyes and the brain. They are non empathetic. Or if they are, they take it wrong again, they look up terms in psychiatry books then then label my behaviors and symptoms. I never knew how to operate amongst humans. I tried to have relationships with similar souls which could lead me to a marriage, family, house etc. None of them lasted long enough to establish anything. I tried to work but they were forcing me to do things which they didn’t pay for, and I didn’t incarnate in that new body to be a slave once more. I want respect as I had as an angel up there. I enjoyed greatly when I met that guy who is my other half and eventhough he feels the same about me, he runs away and he won’t explain why. He discourages me from reaching out, from dreaming of the next, of wanting a marriage, living together etc. and everybody around are telling to do just that - to dream and create. How? He creates blockages fro my dreams to materialize. It needs the two but his human being plays havoc with his angelic. His angelic is not aggressive, won’t force him to do things in tune with our destiny. I’ve been ready to connect into One. All what he does is not in tune with what I remember about him from the old galactic times when we were One and even when we met as humans. The Earth is a beautiful place but its low energy sucks and it distorts humans. I love it when waves of higher vibration come however, they make me feel at home with everything I am and the surrounding. I barely ever resonated with humans here. Do you remember my pictures when I was a few months old? I had hatred in my watery childish eyes for how I had to reincarnate again, not only as a child who had to again learn everything from 0 but also as a woman where I was used to incarnate as a dude before, the dude who was free, raging and was a warrior who comes and takes! This sex change confused me the worst. I met a few humans who were equally fascinating and we had a mental connection. But they have chosen a material life, less wisdom, less knowledge, female partners weaker or stronger than themselves just to control or be humiliated by them. Beauty and aging - remember human when the DNA cleans up, the skin looks older, the body aches, but when it’s purged, the skin looks very fresh, the body feels 20 years younger, and the spirit feels just as it is - immortal. These come in phases. Whatever you try to force me to do, you have to collaborate as we’re two in this body. You want to use life on Earth. You human want to do things but recall that most of the time you took action in the past, you were mislead by dark forces, you set yourself away from your Path because you have a little implant in the brain telling you to self-destruct by giving away your power to others or make wrong choices rather than achieve anything. Thus you have to detach from the head and use my angelic heart only to navigate safely. I, angel want to go back to where I came from, right now. I feel no connections on this planet. I’m more connected to stars, constellations, I know there are beings never seen here yet, who I met, they love me, they know me, they understand my position, they know my history and they feel for me. But they’re told to stay where they are at the time being. They will arrive sometime soon, this was promised. All I enjoy is spreading myself afar, above, and being one with the nature and All that Is. Because I AM Authentic. I believe that my other half returns and we’ll live and create together but he needs to have a human-angelic inner conversation to decide about his return to the ‘better bubble’.

So this is a depiction of a struggle between 3D human and +5D angel. Both don’t now how to live here, both haven’t achieved anything special yet they knew they were meant for something greater, both compare what they were taught/promised and what didn’t happen, both need a goal to get motivated. Both wanted to love but met blockages and discouragement. Both transmute with control and energetically but the results are unseen. The answer is = WTF??

This is such a nasty period of time that we’re forced to go through validations and it seems these are related to known attributes of zodiac signs we’re passing through during the year. I really felt myself when Sun was in Aries. Then I felt I was tossed from a corner to corner or kept ‘underground’, completely stuck for the time of retrogrades. Now with Gemini dominating, I am dealing with a mental chaos. It’s like each moth we’re asked - Are you using this, are you that? Are you free (when Sun in Aquarius)? Are enjoying yourself (Leo)? Are you safe (Taurus)? Are you satisfied with your professional life, achievements (Capricorn & Saturn too)? Have you expressed what is you?(Aries)? What have you created (Pisces)? etc. Overall: What does your heart like - home & family (1 home) or learning other cultures and places through traveling (home everywhere)? Yet even if your human is dramatizing now, look into your eyes in a mirror - you may see somebody else inside of you. Brighter, potent, sharp like a steel, radiating, very DIFFERENT ‘no compromise’ sovereign being. This is your angel replacing the human slowly but permanently. The living diamond within which is like a fluid, ghost, plasma, energy, you name it. I’m really curious how it’s going to play out in June... Every month I receive different energies, so it’s low and high, glimpses of the best, followed by the reality of hopelessness next. I hope it’ll end soon because those mood swings related to the brain and nervous system rewiring are maddening! If you have issues, detach from the head and go in the nature, look at ants, birds, trees, bark, shapes, colors, etc. these make us live in the now.

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#mars square saturn #human versus angel #human angelic #i wanna go home #inner war

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ohlookamiraculousblog · 7 years

Text

The Great Hair Dared

Chapter 1 – Dares. Focused on Hairs.

“Since TECHNICALLY Alix never won the race,” (everyone’s brain simultaneously: since she kind of tried to murder everyone over a watch), “then TECHNICALLY I don’t have to stop giving out dares!” Kim claimed triumphantly.

Alix couldn’t deny it, she hadn’t raced him

‘Or rather couldn’t remember racing him the one time she did, but that didn’t count because, well, breaking time and all.’ Marinette’s brain reminded her as she casually eavesdropped. It’s not that the story Alya was telling wasn’t interesting, but she had heard three times this morning of how Ladybug roundhouse kicked the last akuma.

The classwide outcry of groans was swiftly suppressed when Kim yelled out, “SO ADRIEN AGRESTE.” Invoking four heads to pop up and look back at Kim’s seat. “I challenge you to a dare!”

All eyes turned anxiously to a blonde-haired-green-eyed boy. An unamused glare glazed Adrien’s eyes and an annoyed sag fell over his shoulders. “What is it this time?”

“Hmm, honestly I’ve gotten bored with picking them. I think someone else should decide the dare.” And a genuinely thoughtful gaze crossed over the class. Scanning over he chanted, “No. No. Nuh-uh. No. Nah. Nope.” His eyes stopped on Alya first, “mmmmnnnoooooooo”

While Kim wasn’t afraid of much save spiders (which is fair) but he didn’t want to chance a dare coming from THAT mind.

His eyes quickly snapped to Marinette. He pointed, lurching forward in the motion.

“You!”

“Me?!”

“Yeah you! You’re gonna choose what the dare is.”

It didn’t bother Marinette, in fact she might even be able to help out Adrien. She shrugged, “ok I don’t min-”

“AND you have to be in on the stakes as well!”

A chorus of “ooooooh"s flooded the classroom. In an instant, the class had quite sharply turned on Marinette, if they’re enthusiasm was anything to go by. Soon the whole room was buzzing with excitement, Adrien himself included.

He had faith in her, Marinette couldn’t possibly let him down!

'WHAT?! Okay hold up Marinette think, think! THINK!!’ Marinette visibly struggled to come up with the perfect dare. She puckered her lips and looked from the ceiling to the floor as though she would physically find the answer.

It had to be something that Kim could never be able to do, and that Adrien and Marinette could breeze through. Mathematics came to mind, and while it wasn’t her strongest suit, Adrien had it down to a science. (literally)

But she couldn’t do that, no matter what the stakes, she couldn’t embarrass Kim like that. Yeah he could be obnoxious, but just because he preferred sports over studying didn’t give her a reason to humiliate him she decided.

Mulling it over further was put to a halt as Miss Bustier walked in and instructed them all to sit down.

She had time now, she had a chance to think.

And think she did, over the entire class period. Alya, knowingly, began writing up a second set of notes. She knew better than anyone that once Marinette was on a mission, not hell or high waters would stop her.

'Especially since this mission involved 'saving’ her beloved Prince Charming’ Alya inwardly giggled.

In the meantime, Adrien couldn’t help the occasional humming sound from behind him. Sometimes he would hear her whine lightly, he took note that there was a positive whine as well as a negative whine.

The positive whine was hopeful almost, as though she were saying, "yeah that might work!”

Mostly they would immediately be followed by a negative whine though. It was lower pitched, monotone, only a second or two long, and the piano portion of his brain told him it was a C sharp.

He tried to take notes, honestly! But the moment he saw Nino taking a second set he gave up. He resigned himself to taking mental notes.

Of the sounds he heard.

Coming from behind him.

Until finally he heard a gasp. She just had an epiphany, he just knew it. 'Double underline THAT noise in my memory.’

Now he had to wait.

It was horrible, waiting till the bell rang. 15 mins felt like another 6 hours. When the bell finally did ring, he had been sitting there for almost almost 36 hours.

As soon as the bell rang every student in the room turned towards Marinette.

Marinette stood reverently to address Kim. “I have decided.”

The silence stiffened in the room. All the students stared, paying much more attention than they had to the lecture not even a minute before. Marinette took a breath and spoke again, “instead of a dare, how about a bet?”

Kim’s face immediately scrunched up, “Ehhhhh…” he started.

“Now hold on! You chose me to pick the dare, so listen up!” Kim sat straight back down from where he had begun to stand in protest.

“They’re having that fireworks display by the Eiffel Tower tomorrow night, and I have it on good authority that Ladybug and Chat Noir will be there together.”

'What? I didn’t know that!’ Thought both Adrien and Alya. Both felt rather scandalized, although for very different reasons.

“Kim, you think they should get together don’t you?” Marinette continued, blissfully unaware of the two whirlpools of thoughts swirling behind her.

“You mean do I ship LadyNoir? Yeah of course!” To which a majority of the class nodded or hummed in agreement.

Miss Bustier was fascinated, here they were sitting and discussing like normal humans. It was so very different from class time, which could, at times, be rather frustrating. She couldn’t bring herself to break them up, so they continued on without interruption.

“Well, if you’re so certain that they’ll be together, it would stand to reason they would be on a date when they go to see fireworks.”

“I still don’t see what your point is Marinette.” Kim stated, balking at this lame idea.

“What if they kiss?” She stated simply.

It was quiet at first, but she heard it behind his voice. The intrigue.

“What?”

“You heard me,” she sassed, “I don’t think they’ll kiss. But if you’re SO certain that 'LadyNoir’” she mimicked, using air quotes to add to the teasing, “is legit, then if they kiss, you win.”

She already saw it in his excited eyes, she had one this. It was in the bag for her this time around. Was it cheating? Yes. But Kim never said she couldn’t bet on something she had direct control over!

As Kim’s eyes widened, Adrien’s shot to the floor. He suddenly had a battle of desires before him. In the unlikely case that Ladybug DID go, he now couldn’t even try to kiss her.

In Paris.

Under the Eiffel Tower.

While literal sparks went off around them.

This was going to be a difficult bet for him.

Even though he technically had control over his actions, he knew himself better than that. If his Lady allowed him, he wouldn’t think twice about losing some silly bet. Speaking of which, what were the stakes?

As if on cue, Kim spoke up. “Alright, fine. If I lose, I’ll shave my head.” This solicited a gasp from the class, everyone knew Kim adored his hair. “But if Ladybug and Chat Noir kiss, YOU have to get your hair cut like mine,” he directed towards Adrien, “and YOU have to get a pixie cut!” He said pointing to Marinette, yet winking towards Adrien, who suddenly sported a blush.

The whole room burst into excitement. Marinette’s logical side noted that that oddly enough the guys seemed to like the idea of a hairstyle change more than the girls.

The rest of her brain freaked.

Marinette squeaked. “W-what! That’s mental! That’s-” and she stopped short when she felt a warm hand on her shoulder.

Adrien looked, piercing her eyes with a shy smile before turning to Kim. “Give us a minute would you?”

With an approving nod from the athlete, Adrien led Marinette into the barren hallway. He knew exactly what this was about. ——— Earlier that day, the guys at P.E. (Kim included) had been talking about this very thing.

“Dude, pixie cuts are the cutest thing. You have to admit it man!” Nino proclaimed. All the guys hushed him so the girls weren’t alerted to their “scandalous” conversation. At least in the mind of 15 year old boys it was scandalous.

Kim was the first to agree, “oh yeah! I bet if anyone would go for that, it’d be Juleka.” Followed by sounds of agreement.

“She does seem that type.” Max added on.

Nathanael surprisingly was next to speak, “what about Rose? She basically already has one right?”

“No,” Max objected. “I believe we’re speaking strictly of girls with long hair, as well as a buzz cut.”

“Well, who else would look good with that hair? I know Alya wouldn’t.” Kim continued.

“Hey!!”

“Oh come on Nino, I didn’t mean like that. Just that the pixie cut wouldn’t work.”

“Mmmm. Fine.” Nino begrudgingly replied. “Okay here’s how I see it. Alix and Juleka would look good with it. Any other girl is a no go.”

Adrien finally spoke up. “What about Marinette?”

All the guys looked at him, non-verbally demanding him to defend his choice. “W-well I mean, not with pigtails obviously. More like…if she let her hair down and maybe a bit longer?” He slowly relaxed as each boy contemplated the idea. Each mind picturing a raven haired girl with about a third or maybe even half of her hair buzzed short.

“I think it’d look pretty good.” Ivan said breaking into everyone’s thoughts.

Kim finalized it. “Well, we all know Ivan isn’t biased for Marinette since he’s with Myléne.”

But before they could continue, Alya attacked. Poor Nino never saw it coming. Jumping onto his back with grace Adrien had never seen from her before, Nino was forced to stagger forward. Her arrival promptly ended the discussion.

—— “Marinette, we’re gonna take him up on it.”

“WHAT?! Except that I like my hair, Adrien!” Her panic and anger at the idea of losing her hair managed to overwhelm any thoughts of stuttering in front of Adrien.

“But has Ladybug EVER showed interest in Chat Noir?”

Marinette was taken aback at the very idea she would betray her precious Adrien like that. “She most certainly has not!” Both of them were giving a little more info than they should’ve known, but since they both knew it, they assumed it as common knowledge.

“Then what’s the problem?” Adrien reached out and Marinette felt a supportive and calming pressure hooked around her wrist. “LadyNoir won’t happen.” Adrien gave a sharp and dark glance to the ground and after a beat of silence, came back at her eyes with the same model smile she had seen plastered to street signs. “Then Kim has to shave his head! Surely he’d cool it with the dares after that.”

Marinette began to untense her shoulders, 'As much as Adrien doesn’t realize it, he has a point. Ladybug won’t kiss Chat Noir.’ (he did realize this)

'I’ll make sure of it!’

Inhale. Exhale. “You’re right, I’m getting worked up over nothing.” And as she brought her lips up into a reassuring smile, it dawned on her who was still holding her wrist.

Luckily Adrien already started dragging her into the classroom, so he didn’t hear the loud yelp echo through the courtyard.

#miraculous ladybug #miraculous #chat noir #adrien x marinette #adrien agreste #adrinette #tales of ladybug and cat noir #ladybug and chat noir #fanfic #fanfiction #the Great Hair Dare

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