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baby-yongbok · 3 months

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Sun Shower & Golden Hour

Han Jisung x Reader

☼ Genre: Fluff ☼ Summary: Jisung wants to kiss you in the rain. ☼ Word Count: 1.4k

☼ This One shot was Inspired by the song Golden Hour by Jvke

✧ Masterlist ✧

The sunset in Seoul is on another level tonight. The golden rays reflect off of every surface it can reach, creating a beautiful field of deep orange around you. It was Jisung's idea to go on a drive, he wanted to get out of the house and proposed that the two of you grab something to eat and find a place to sit. It started raining shortly after you picked up your food but the last thing on your minds was going home. You drove around, the savory smell of your meals taunting you as you searched for a pretty shot to park and eat. Once Jisung found the perfect spot you set up quickly, eating and talking like you haven't been laid up on each other all weekend.

The car fell quiet when the rain picked up a bit. There were barely any clouds in the sky, the early evening sun caught the reflection of each droplet that fell from above. Turning it into a drop of honey for just a second before it pooled on the concrete. The view that the two of you found was beautiful. It's a small spot, almost hidden, you'll miss it if you don't look for it. It overlooks the Han river at a breathtaking angle. There's just enough room in front of the car that you could have a picnic here if you wanted to. You'll remember that for next weekend.

“Baby.” Jisung calls to you before taking another bite of his food. “Wanna do something?”

You hum, swallowing what's in your mouth and keeping your gaze on the evening view. “Like what?”

“I dunno.” He stares down at the food container in his lap, pondering his thoughts for a second before a soft grin pulls at his lips. “Can I kiss you?”

A light chuckle escapes you and you cover your full mouth as you smile. “You've never asked permission for that before, Ji. Of course you can.”

He closes his container, stuffing it back into the take out bag excitedly. “Can I kiss you… in the rain?” You turn to him, taking in his wide and eager smile as he waits for your answer.

“You wanna do that tik tok thing?” You ask with a grin. Jisung can be sweet sometimes - all of the time - but he's never wanted to do something like this.

“Yeah, I wanna do the tik tok thing. Do you wanna?” You close your food container, putting it in the bag with his and brushing off your hands. You stare out into the rain for a second, taking in its beauty and considering his offer.

“I dunno.” You sigh, it would be super romantic.

“Last one out of the car drives home.” Jisung rushes his sentence as he turns to exit the car. He pushes his door open quickly, stepping out into a puddle and cursing through his gleeful giggles.

“Jisung!” You giggle, scrambling to get out of the car, you step over the puddle on your side and slam your door shut. The cold rain sends a shock to your system and you fumble with the zipper to your hoodie, pulling it up further as an extra layer of protection.

Your boyfriend is close to the edge of the small cliff that you're parked in front of, taking in the view as the pouring rain flattens his now curling hair. He's caught in the golden hour sunset, causing his eyes to shimmer like freshly tapped tree sap. The smile adorning his lips is sweet like maple and you find your heart bursting at the seams at the sight.

“Look at this.” You gaze with him. Taking in the moment like you're the main character in your favorite romance novel. That's how Jisung makes you feel anyway. Alive. Loved and untouchable.

He reaches for your hand, turning to you and pulling you closer to him. He's cold to the touch and you're both soaking wet but everything warms up once he smiles down at you. His cheeks growing red with a cherry blush. Has the sun created a shield around the two of you? Preserving the moment in an eternal glow for both of you to enjoy. You smile at the thought.

“Come here.” He wraps his arms around your waist and you snake yours around his neck. He leans in, brushing the tip of his nose against yours. “You're pretty.”

You smile up at him, a blush as red as his creeping up on your lips. “Kiss me.”

“Happily.” He raises a hand to cup your cheek as his lips brush against yours in a feather light kiss. You can't help but to smile against him as he kisses you again, harder than before. He sighs and his eyelashes flutter against your skin. He mimics your smile, trying his best to fight back a giggle as he deepens the kiss.

“You're making me laugh.” He whispers against your lips, causing you to smile wider. “Jagi, come onnn.” He whines at you, resting his forehead against yours.

“I'm sorry you're just so cute, baby.” He rolls his eyes playfully, running his thumb over your cheekbone.

“Well then let me be cute and have this moment with you without you making me smile like an idiot.” He leans back in, brushing his lips over yours and falling into a deep passionate kiss. It's your turn to sigh against him as you savor the feeling of him, soaking wet yet warm. Sweeter than the purest honey and making you happier than anything else you've ever prayed for. You relax into him, taking it all in when he smiles, breaking the kiss and squeezing his eyes shut with a faint chuckle.

“I was being serious and now you can't be!” He laughs harder at your exasperation. Resting his head on your shoulder as he tries to calm himself.

“I'm sorry I'm sorry I just couldn't help it.” He stands straight, looking down at you with sparkling eyes. “I just… love kissing you. I feel so happy every time I get to feel your lips on mine. You're like a dream.”

He brushes a strand of wet hair sticking to the side of your face behind your ear. He lets his touch linger for a second or two as he takes you in. The sun is creating a halo around you like it's presenting him with the celestial gift of you. Is he falling in love all over again?

“How did I get so lucky? There Isn't a day that goes by where I don't ask myself that question. You're everything that I could ask for and more. You're everything that I've ever wanted, all that I'll ever need.” Tears well up in your eyes and fall with the rain. They catch in the sunlight and become golden fractals before they can hit the ground.

“Ji…” You turn your head into his palm, snuggling into his touch and kissing his wrist. “You confessed already, ya know.”

He smiles, shaking his head and wrapping his arms around your middle. He picks you up, spinning you and pulling a surprised laugh from your chest. He laughs with you as you call out his name, a half hearted plea for him to put your feet back on the ground. When he does set you back down he kisses you quickly. wrapping his arms all the way around you and holding you flush to his chest.

“I'll keep confessing.” He rubs his hands up your back, smoothing the wet fabric against your body. The rain has slowed now or maybe he's made time stop around you. "Call it practice for my vows. I want to tell you that I love you in every way that I can think of. I find a new way to appreciate you every day.”

“I think that I'm the lucky one here.” You mumble as you search each other's eyes. “I love you, Jisung. So much, I love you endlessly. You make me so happy, I had no clue what it was like to feel this way until I met you and I never want to let it go.”

He looks away for a second, blinking up towards the sunlight in an attempt to keep his tears at bay. “Dance with me?”

“We're gonna catch a cold.” You laugh but Jisung shakes his head.

“We're already wet, why not dance before we go.” He can see that he's convinced you by the way that you look up at him, he can also tell that you never truly planned to object at all. “Pick a song.” He moves to hold you in a ballroom dancing position, squeezing your hand lightly once it's laced with his. “I'll sing it, any song.”

“Golden Hour.”

A/N: I'm sorry if this sucked. I was listening to Gold Hour by Jvke at 3 am and just started typing away. I suck at fluff and I'm so nervous to post this.

Thank you for reading, I hope that you enjoyed! Feedback and reblogs are extremely appreciated! All support makes my day. 💕

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astroa3h · 17 days

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Sabrina Carpenter & Her Venus Love Style Reading

Sabrina has Venus in the sign of Cancer @ 3 Degrees

— Sextile Mercury in the sign of Taurus @ 5 Degrees

First, let’s talk about Venus in Cancer. Venus is the planet of love, beauty, and attraction. When Venus is in Cancer, love takes on a nurturing, emotional, and home-centered vibe. Sabrina, with her Venus in Cancer, craves deep emotional connections. She’s not interested in surface-level flings; she wants the real deal. She’s the type who will go above and beyond for her partner, showering them with affection, care, and attention. Her love style is protective and nurturing. She wants to create a safe, cozy, and loving home environment for herself and her loved ones.

Now, let’s add 3 degrees to the mix, which brings some Gemini influence here - it is a Gemini degree. This degree suggests a charming and well-liked personality, which aligns perfectly with Sabrina’s public persona. Like Princess Diana, who had her natal Mercury at this degree, Sabrina’s Venus here makes her naturally charismatic and approachable. She has an easy-going charm that makes people gravitate towards her. This degree enhances her communication skills in love, making her adept at expressing her feelings in a way that’s both heartfelt and engaging. I sense that Sabrina’s ability to articulate her emotions beautifully is one of her standout traits in relationships.

Now, let’s look at that sextile to Mercury in Taurus at 5 degrees. Mercury, the planet of communication, in Taurus, suggests a practical and grounded way of thinking and expressing oneself. Taurus is stable, patient, and values consistency. Sabrina’s communication in relationships is likely to be straightforward, sincere, and reliable. She doesn’t play games; she’s all about honesty and clarity.

The 5 degrees adds a Leo influence on this Mercury is crucial here. Leo degrees are linked to fame and recognition, but this one often comes with a cost. I sense that Sabrina’s path to fame hasn’t been without its challenges, especially in her personal relationships. The sextile aspect between Venus and Mercury means there’s a harmonious flow between her need for deep, emotional connection and her practical, straightforward communication style. She’s able to express her needs and desires clearly, which is a major asset in maintaining healthy relationships.

Let’s not sugarcoat this. Venus in Cancer can sometimes lead to clinginess and a tendency to hold onto past relationships or emotional wounds. Sabrina might struggle with letting go and moving on, preferring to nurture old connections even when they no longer serve her. This placement can also make her susceptible to mood swings and emotional turbulence in her love life. The Leo degree fame influence on her Mercury means that her words and actions in relationships are often magnified. This can lead to misunderstandings and conflicts being blown out of proportion. Sabrina needs to be mindful of how her communication is perceived, especially in the public eye. The cost of fame here is the constant need to manage her public persona while staying true to her emotional needs.

On the flip side, this Venus-Mercury sextile is a beautiful aspect for creativity and artistic expression. Sabrina’s ability to pour her emotions into her music and public appearances is a direct manifestation of this astrological influence. Her charm, eloquence, and emotional depth are her greatest assets, helping her connect with her audience on a profound level.

I sense that for Sabrina to find lasting happiness in love, she needs to focus on balancing her emotional needs with her public life. She should seek partners who appreciate her depth and are willing to support her through the ups and downs of fame. Clear communication, honesty, and mutual respect are key. Sabrina’s chart suggests that she thrives in relationships where she feels secure and valued for who she truly is, not just her public persona. By staying true to her emotional core and communicating openly, Sabrina can find the love and connection she craves!

xoxo Astro Ash 🤍✨ Get your own reading: astroash.net

#sabrina carpenter #astrologer #astrology #astrology readings #astrology aspects #natal chart #pop culture #celebrity #astrology degrees #astro community #astro observations #venus #cancer venus #mercury #mercury sextile venus #barry keoghan #fame degree

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sakebytheriver · 2 years

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I think my biggest issue with what I've seen from the Wednesday show is that it is just so surface level aesthetics only and nothing more

I mean, the Addams Family has definitely been watered down over the years in popculture into just being the perfect thing for a man like Tim "black people don't fit my aesthetic" Burton to cannibalize and use for his white goth aesthetic fetish, but when the comic first came out it was clearly a labor of love made by a man who literally gave his creation his own family name and while what he was doing was a pretty simplistic inversion of the cliche nuclear family sitcom it ended up revolutionizing the entire genre and leaving a mark on the history of this country to the point that The Telegraph literaly called them one of the most iconic families in American history, up there with the Kennedys and to see them just get crappy adaptation after crappy adaptation these days especially after how well the 1990s Adams Family and Adams Family Values movies were able to bring them back to the limelight and cement their legacy in the popular zeitgeist for a new generation, I just wish there was a way to divorce this family from the formulaic capitalist nonsense that Hollywood has become and bring back that beautiful artistic notion that birthed the Addams Family in the first place, because as it stands to me the Wednesday show looks like someone just decided to take the aesthetic of the Addams Family, turn Wednesday into a goth manic pixie dream girl, separate her from the rest of her family, and then basically just write a Chilling Adventures of Sabrina knockoff, because they know the Riverdale aesthetic and Netflix formula gets you the clicks.

It doesn't feel like someone rebooted The Addams Family because they love the source material, it feels like someone rebooted The Addams Family because they like the way they looked and nothing more

#ignore me #the addams family

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sin-sidejob · 1 year

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I'm bored. Tell us more about your OC?

I’d love to talk more about her! Especially if it’ll quench your boredom!!

Okay!

Delaney’s mainly shipped with JR but deep in my little heart I have an alt au where she’s paired up with AB Robotus (I’m an absolute SUCKER for inhuman pairings, especially a bond over a mutual hatred)

But regardless, she’s essentially a cliché hot attorney blended with “gives mother / serves cunt” vibes if that makes sense — here to do here job and little else, not the type to fuck around, especially not for shits and giggles. Unapologetically feminine but will not hesitate to rip a bitch apart, physically or verbally.

At work, she’s mainly nose-deep in paperwork from business deals and transactions, like the acquisition of Rightswipe, and the logistical moves of power from Rand and JR as co-CEOs to JR, then to Reagan — etcetera. Her role doesn’t not directly interact with the remainder of the cast, doing background work.

Outside of work however, she’s most likely waiting for the weekend. Her fun nights come Friday night and Saturday, with Sunday being a reset day for her to get her shit done, the self work for the week, etc. Her time outside the office is most likely spent reading, relaxing at home or with her family, or shopping. She invests majority of her money, but a moderate portion she devotes to fashion and looking like she strutted straight off a runway like a 90s Ralph Lauren model.

Additionally, since there’s the theme of conspiracies, the supernatural, and cryptid nonsense, I made my little sona a demon! I’m sticking (for now) with the concept of her as some sort of eldritch creature, using her body as a vessel in some weird cyclical nature born by the ways of the shadow board — something akin to having a “scribe” or agent linked to them, reincarnated through the generations for convenience rather than fully inventing the wheel and trusting it to complete strangers, risking more than they can afford.

Delaney’s ambiguously in her mid 30’s, one of those people that gives easy information on surface level matters for appearances but leaves no traces as to anything deeper, no information available to anyone. So there’s very little the cast know about her personally, just as their lives as very surface level initially before the bonding and duration of both parts of season one. She’s southern, has that heavy drawl that usually comes out when someone else speaks southern or when certain topics are discussed, leaving her accent usually more diluted and moderate.

ALSO some songs I attribute to her, the first was recc’d by @olexxx

Femme Fatale by Coyote Kid

I Want It All by Arctic Monkeys

Short Skirt / Long Jacket by CAKE

Diamonds Are Forever by Sabrina Carpenter

#inside job #personal inside job #my inside job #my oc #my sona #Delaney #jrdelaney #thank you for asking about her anon!#I don’t discuss her all that much tbh #I should do that more lol #or finally make the masterlist of her information and links from a massive google doc I have

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drafgost · 2 days

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Grippy

Man I’m so pissed that this is gonna be my first post but I have GOT to break my silence for Grippy. I need to know why these cheeks hit the fucking airwaves. She a ten piece like a mcnugget. What else can I really say? We’re talking about Grippy by Cash Cobain & J. Cole.

I’m not usually going to dive into the lyrics this much, but something about this song broke me. Every bar is straight ass and I’m compelled to talk about it. Grippy. I’m also going to be much more organized than this, but I’ve lost my. Fucking. Grippy. On what semblance of sanity I retain.

The song starts immediately with a dull ass beat and J. Cole briefly describing the progression of a relationship between him and a girl.

“She like my kick game

And when you know me, you don’t kick game

I put her front row at the Knick game

Now she in my phone with a nickname”

Unfortunately for us all, after a line where it seems like he’s actively trying to come up with said nickname because he’s just saying “it’s, it’s, ummm”, he tells us that she’s down in his phone as Grippy. Why? Don’t worry, he guides us through his thought process, just in case we were lost.

“Grippy, I call her that ‘cause it’s grippy”

What else, Jermaine?

“She thick in the hips, she a hippie

And she thick in the lips, she gon’ lick me”

“When she see me, she say she gon’ strip me

She gon’ chew on this stick like it’s Wrigley’s”

I don’t want to know that, Jermaine.

I don’t know why he thought this next bar would be a reasonable thing to say, but he also just said he wanted Grippy to gnaw on his wood like a beaver so I think dude was just operating on some real hell dimension vibes.

“She said she was gay until I slayed

Now she strictly dickly”

There’s no bars of noteworthy ass past this point from J. Grippy pages him and he hits 150 to get there, running Hollywood Cole a $100 base fine for speeding if the Grippyverse takes place in Cali. He has a Grippepiphany. We learn that Grippy is wet. Cole introduces Sabrina and Tiffany and they only pass one third of the Bechdel test. After he states that he “tryna see how that glove gon’ fit” (this is what OJ died for) and that he “wanna feel like [he] touchin’ [Grippy’s] kidneys”, he offers to take her kids to Disney.

That was utterly terrible, but we’re not done. You fucking buffoons have sorely neglected the real villain of this track: Cash Cobain.

“I wanna kill it like rest in peace

Eat on that pussy like it was a recipe”

So far, not worse than Grippy. A real Trojan Horse of pussy verses. How bad could it get?

We have a brief respite while Cash fucking rambles while saying random women’s names, but then he throws us one of his best bars on the song:

“You piss my bitches off like a potty”

More woman rambling. He wants to make Jess a mess, he has something he must confess, he wants to see her undress and is about to send her his address. He wants to fuck Millie ‘til she’s dizzy, and wants her to “suck it sloppy, make it spitty”. Finally, while still addressing poor Spitty Millie, he delivers his magnum opus:

That’s all lots of unpack, and we can truly only scratch the surface. The Grippyverse is immense, and I was certainly overwhelmed by Marvel-level character buildup clogging the narrative artery. Grippy, Sabrina, Tiffany, Destiny (rest in peace), Pregnancy Scare Shanti, Zari, Mia, Jada, Mash Potatoes Kayla, Good Vagina China, Shy Niyah, Toni Macaroni, Polisher Lexi and a possible second Destiny, Marni and her immense conflict, Jess the Mess, and Spitty Millie are all introduced in the freakiest fucking four minute role call I’ve heard to date. How do they relate to each other, if at all? We know the first three are friends, as Cole state’s he thought the whole clique was bad but liked Grippy the best. Are the two Destiny’s aware of each other? Did Polisher Destiny murk Destiny Rest In Peace to take her place? Why doesn’t Cash want to talk to Marni? What did she do to piss off bitches like a potty? Why is the beat so fucking boring?

I haven’t touched on how the song sounds. It sounds the same. The whole song sounds like a trickle of consistent noise. The beat is boring as shit and remains boring as shit the whole run. I listened to the song a few times to really get a feel and kept forgetting it was on once I began to ignore the lyrics.

The one ounce of joy I derived from this song were the initial Genius annotations that were later replaced by people just desperately trying to make sense of this pile of wet sawdust by explaining the potty bar, and what a pager was. “UNC FREAKY” was a much better thing to read than exposition on why Jermaine Lamarr Cole immortalized some poor woman as Grippy, which was readily evident within context.

My Final Rating of Grippy

Lyrics: 2/10

One point awarded for the potty bar. I won’t explain myself. Another point awarded out of respect for Destiny Rest In Peace (peace be upon her, Amen)

Vocals: 5/10

Literally just so average. Nothing special and nothing terrible, and just not worth giving anything other than an average score.

Sound: 5/10

Once again just so infuriatingly bland. Absolutely nothing special about it whatsoever, for better or worse.

Overall Score

Averaging my numbers equals out to

But I will not tarnish my good name by rating this hot bowl of mac n cheeks so high, so it gets a

#music #music review #j cole #grippy #cash cobain #review #grippyverse #drafgost #aoty #album of the year

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taste-in-music · 1 year

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taste-in-music’s top 30 songs of 2022

Hello everyone! Welcome back to my annual countdown of my 30 favorite songs of the year. 2022 had a lot of great music releases, and I’m so excited to recount the songs I replayed throughout the year. Now, on with the list!

This year was so jam-packed I have ten honorable mentions to share before we get to the list proper: tears in the club by FKA Twigs ft. The Weeknd, Destination l’amour by Pi Ja Ma, Little Freak by Harry Styles, Fast Times by Sabrina Carpenter, EMPATHY 4 BETHANY by Saya Gray, Be Cool by Maggie Rogers, This Hell by Rina Sawayama, Heavy Heart by Bartees Strange, Karma by Taylor Swift, and Shotgun by Soccer Mommy

F2F by SZA: “F2F” was a fast favorite that came late in the year, mostly for how pleasantly surprising it was. The 2000s pop-punk revival has been percolating for the past few years, and SZA’s entry into the genre suits her frighteningly well. She’s written on the complications of revenge sex and missing an ex before, but the area-ready bombast of the guitar-driven instrumental elevates it to the next level. It may have looked to the past for sonic inspiration, but it feels fresh.

君に夢中 (Kimini Muchuu) by Hikaru Utada: I didn’t know what to expect when I clicked play on J-pop icon Hikaru Utada’s new album on a whim, but when I heard “君に夢中,” which translates to “crazy about you” in English, I was immediately struck by a feeling of familiarity. It may be because the opening synth riff reminds me of “Boys Of Summer,” it may be Utada’s impassioned delivery, it may be the rattling hi-hats that instate an undeniable groove on the song’s back end. Whatever it is, Utada managed to capture something ethereal on this track, and I can’t wait to explore more of her catalogue in the future.

Flower (In Full Bloom) by Luna Li ft. Dreamer Isioma: Romantic angst never sounded so damn dreamy. On “Flower (In Full Bloom),” Luna Li pleads with a lover that refuses to put in the effort in a relationship, while Dreamer Isioma provides the opposing perspective speaking about how the spark has already died. As the song progresses, the cushy soundscape of twinkling keys escalates to a bitching guitar solo that makes for one hell of a final moment.

Kissing Lessons by Lucy Dacus: If nothing else, “Kissing Lessons” is a marvel of concision. Each detail Dacus compiles, bracelet charms, hair tosses, dreams of buying a three-story house, all come together to form a rich vignette about a young girl’s budding sexuality and growing inculcation into gender roles in just under two minutes. Place those details over a rollicking rock instrumental and you’ve got on special sucker punch of a song that gives you just enough to want to know more. The only choice, then, is to hit repeat.

It’s Raining by Superorganism ft. Dylan Cartlidge and Stephen Malkmus: For Superorganism, there is no sample too silly, no instrumental flourish too strange to throw into their melting pot. Describing “It’s Raining” from their sophomore album World Wide Pop means describing the barrage of baffling moments it throws at warp speed. Frontwoman Orono Noguchi sings about a “cyborg grilled-cheese-sandwich machine” over thunderclaps. English rapper Dylan Cartlidge spits bars about Elon Musk over a backing chorus of what sounds like demented Muppets. Pavement frontman Stephen Malkmus’s lyrics about riding a horse-drawn carriage are ushered in with clip-clopping hooves and a sample of a neigh. These moments come together to form a loopy, loping confection that’s as absurd as it is addictive.

Superfan by Chelsea Jade: On “Superfan,” Chelsea Jade navigates the blurred lines of talking to a crush, a situation where you’re trading adversarial jabs and confrontational quips and you can never tell if you’re flirting or fighting. Ultimately, Jade reveals the obsession lying beneath the surface, identifying herself as a “superfan” trying to play it cool. Driving home the playful awkwardness is Jade’s use of vocal samples throughout, whether they’re narrating along to her conversation or splicing through the chorus with hiccup-y clips of harmonization. It’s a song that cuts through the guise to reveal the vulnerability at its core.

Holding Back by BANKS: In the years since her debut, BANKS has become my go-to artist for electropop bangers that conjure emotional vulnerability and goddess-level confidence alike. “Holding Back” may be an outpouring of memories in the wake of a doomed relationship, but the hard-hitting electronic groove and boosted bass breathe new life into a familiar concept. As BANKS switches between vulnerable coos and full-chested belts, she unleashes the innermost desire for her care to be reciprocated. “I wrote you a melody,” she sings in the chorus, “can’t you see that?”

Whatever Fits Together by Skullcrusher: Skullcrusher has perfected the art of weaving immersive tapestries from whispy sonic fragments, a strummed guitar here, a gossamer synthesizer there, a lyrical fragment about leaving home to tie it all into a single package. “Whatever Fits Together” pulls disparate pieces from their distinct places in the ether to form something transient and melancholy, the mournful tone of Helen Ballentine’s voice balanced by a sunny tambourine. It’s ephemeral, it’s beautiful, it all fits together perfectly.

Another Man’s Jeans by Ashe: Ashe may have broken onto the pop scene with brokenhearted ballads, but there’s always been a confidence and cleverness to her delivery that’s made her stand out. On her comeback single “Another Man’s Jeans,” she douses her witty songwriting with pure funk concentrate and struts through a kiss-off to a situationship with more swagger than she’s ever showcased on tape before. It makes for one of the most fun party jams of the year.

girlfriend by hemlocke springs: I first encountered hemlocke springs via an Instagram Reel where she posted a video propositioning “do u wanna hear the weirdest bridge you’ll ever hear in ur entire life?” The subsequent bridge shows springs hurling her voice up and down the scale with reckless abandon over a spritely synth groove, and wile it might not be the “weirdest bridge” I’ve ever heard, it certainly was one of the most memorable the year had to offer. The rest of the song, a blasé kiss-off to a potential suitor, pulls of the rare achievement for a viral song and lives up to the catchiness of the initial clip.

Spitting Off the Edge of the World by Yeah Yeah Yeahs ft. Perfume Genius: “Spitting Off The Edge of the World” is awesome in the archaic sense, encapsulating the simultaneous awe and terror that comes from facing something so much bigger than yourself. It’s a song that earns it galactic sense of scope from the quiet moments it provides to contrast it, as Karen O and Perfume Genius trade demure, flitting verses before the chorus kicks in on the heels of a larger-than-life barrage synths and guitars. It’s titanic, it’s triumphant, it’s just awesome, (in that it’s also just damn great.)

The Loneliest Time by Carly Rae Jepsen ft. Rufus Wainwright: I remember when this song was released just ahead of The Loneliest Time album and questioning how this collaboration could possibly work. As soon as I heard it, the answer was clear: never question Carly Rae Jepsen. At this point, Jepsen has boiled pop music down to a science, but that doesn’t mean it’s sterile or forced. The string-adorned, disco-inflected groove on “The Loneliest Time” is the perfect landscape for Jepsen and Wainwright to trade verses about giving an old flame a second chance. It all culminates in that excellent bridge where Jepsen enthusiastically declares “I’m coming back for you baby / I’m coming back for you!” I, too, will continue coming back to this song, and Jepsen’s catalogue as a whole, when I need a pick up from my own personal loneliest times.

fairy song by beabadoobee: Throughout her second album Beatopia, beabadoobee’s jaunty melodies and sugar-sweet vocals just barely cover a greater desperation for care and connection percolating beneath the surface. The best demonstration of this is “fairy song,” where a running list of self-care tasks atop perky pianos slowly cracks apart until it fully breaks into a buzzy whirlwind of distortion and beabadoobee’ screams just barely audible in the background. Then, just as the pandemonium reaches its peak, the song pulls itself back together and returns to the chipper atmosphere it began with. Ignoring one’s distress will only take you so far before the weight becomes too much to bear. Sometimes, drinking water and going outside isn’t enough. Letting the mess fly free every so often might just be the key to moving forward.

Cardigan by Sophie Cates: “Cardigan” is my silly pop song of the year, the track I turned to when I needed an instant sugar rush of endorphins. Sure, Sophie Cates rhymes “again” with “again” with “cardigan” with “again” again on the hook, but when it's set against the most instantly catchy melody of 2022, I hardly even notice. That’s not a slight against Cates’s writing though, the other choice details she employs throughout the song paint a vivid picture of a romance that’s lost its sparkle, and the wistful desire for the magic to return. It’s that undercurrent of longing that elevates “Cardigan” from being just a silly pop song to a great silly pop song, one that sticks around long after the initial rush has passed.

Bump by Dora Jar: Dora Jar’s music captures the dark whimsy of a fairy tale, but the real fairy tales where the pixie dust and glass slippers come with a hungry wolf or vengeful witch lurking in the shadows. It’s a musical world that’s a little spooky, rife with curiosity, and lit up with a flicker of excitement. “Bump” is one of the best demonstrations of this quality, with Dora Jar describing the wonder of a chance encounter that may escalate into something more. The song is accented with astonished gaps, a swampy chorus of backing vocals, and an air-tight beat. It’s sweet and wondrous and a little claustrophobic, sonically capturing that tight-throated, heart-hammering anticipation to see what comes next.

In The Eyes Of Our Love by Yumi Zouma: “In The Eyes Of Our Love” is good in a way that just feels obvious, providing a breezy yet danceable energy that’s poised to play out the romantic climax of a teen movie from the 90s. Beneath its cheery surface, though, is a tremor of anxiety. Lead vocalist Christie Simpson signs of crumbling walls, splitting lips, and looming storms, worries that accelerate and melt away over the song's duration. Every great pop song grows all the greater with a sense of urgency, and “In The Eyes Of Our Love” threads that needle effortlessly while still being danceable as hell. What more could you want?

Part Of The Band by The 1975: Over the past few years, The 1975 have twisted the anthemic pop-rock that put them on the map to reveal the absurdity and anxiety at the heart of modern life. On “Part Of The Band,” the band’s first single off their 2022 album Being Funny In A Foreign Language, frontman Matty Healy’s musings on social upheaval are equal parts hilarious and insightful. After stuffing the song full of dizzying rhymes, (“vaccinista tote bag-chic baristas” with “communista keisters” especially comes to mind,) Healy finishes on a searing moment of self-reflection: “am I just some post-coke, average, skinny bloke / calling his ego imagination?” With a twitchily elegant backdrop crafted from plucky string swells, chopped-up vocal samples, and quivering synths, it’s a song whose catchiness, cleverness, and creativity lives up to the critiques on display.

ALIEN SUPERSTAR by Beyoncé: It was difficult to pick a favorite track from RENAISSANCE, an album so consistently excellent in its delivery of dancefloor euphoria. In the end, I had to go with the self-love celebration “ALIEN SUPERSTAR.” Every element of this song oozes self-assurance, from the spacy disco instrumental to Beyoncé’s vocals, which switch from sensual cooing to a British accent-inflected declarations to braggadocious belting at the drop of a hat. The result is a track poised to dominate dancefloors across the galaxy for years to come, and who’s surprised? She’s one of one. She’s number one. She’s the only one.

Nothing Gives Me Pleasure by Girlpool: I clicked play on Girlpool’s fifth album Forgiveness without any clear expectations. I certainly wasn’t expecting to be blasted with a wave of distorted synths followed by the most memorable opening line of the year: “Do you even want me if I even have to ask? / Break it to me gently with your fingers up my ass.” It’s an unforgettable one-two punch that immediately establishes the core themes of the album, trying to reconcile the desire for emotional and physical intimacy, and how those desires often conflict with and contradict one another. “Nothing Gives Me Pleasure” walks the power balance in a relationship built on mismatched expectations, trying to sate yourself with sex and coming up short. The soundscape skitters and heaves, the distortion ratcheting up as Harmony Tividad reiterates the title line over and over: “Nothing gives me pleasure like the words I know you won’t say.”

cool by Uffie: Uffie made a name for herself in the bloghouse scene of the early 2010s, a musical moment defined by glitchy earworms, a punkish dedication to keeping the party going as long as possible, and lots and lots of glitter. For her 2021 comeback single with Company Records, “cool,” Uffie evolves the quirky maximalism of her past into something slick, modern, and effortlessly, well, cool. On “cool,” Uffie digs for gold in moments of stillness amidst chaos, chronicling moments of reprieve during a night out: sleepy Uber rides, poolside kisses, eating cereal with her partner. The best demonstration of this comes when, at the precipice of each chorus, all the music cuts out for a moment before Uffie ushers in the razor-sharp groove with a simple utterance of the song’s title, delivered with a blasé surety of someone who’s seen it all. As she sings in the song’s third verse, she’s “got nothing left to prove.”

HENTAI by ROSALÍA: Amidst the raucous genreclash that makes up the rest of the MOTOMAMI tracklist, the gentle pianos of “HENTAI” may initially feel a bit out of place. But if you listen closely, there’s much to discover beneath its deceptively simple surface. First off, the lyrics are filthy as hell, (I know, big surprise for a song literally called “HENTAI,”) but the cheeky references to bike riding and tape making are balanced out by a tender backdrop that knows when to up the bombast. Whether it be the barely-there string flourishes, fluttering vocal runs, or the skittering blast of drums that drives the song’s closing moments home, “HENTAI” provides just enough off-kilter details that make the song transcend from mere sexy piano ballad into only “La ROSALÍA” could provide.

Simulation Swarm by Big Thief: Despite Big Thief’s fifth album Dragon New Warm Mountain I Believe In You dropping all the way back in February, I found “Simulation Swarm” shamefully late in the year. But as soon as I heard it, I knew it would be on this list, and pretty high up too. Adrianne Lenker crafts songs that are immediately familiar, like I must have been listening to them from childhood. The details she employs throughout "Simulation Swarm” balance beauty and malice, painting the dark fairy tale and casual terror of modern life “crystal blood like a dream true,” “swallows in the windless field,” “river of light who I love / That I sing to in the belly of the empty night.” Set against a locomotive folk instrumental, “Simulation Swarm” feels like a gentle hug from the abyss, voicing the ability to face danger and walk forward with hope.

Till We Run Out Of Air by Hatchie: I thought I knew what to expect going into Hatchie’s sophomore album Giving The World Away. Early singles like “Quicksand” and “This Enchanted” delivered another helping of the joyful shoegaze pop she’s been delivering for years. It’s a sound I’m always willing to gobble up, but there was an echo of something greater hovering right beneath the surface. With the final song on the album, Hatchie delivered a falcon punch of a finale that transforms that spark into a fireworks show. With its susurrus of swirling, watery synths and arena-ready chorus, “Till We Run Out Of Air” plows right through me with each repeated spin. It’s a song enraptured in the fine line between destruction and exhilaration, tracing the final moments in a romance with larger-than-life bombast. Perhaps the best encapsulation of this euphoria comes at the precipice of the chorus. “Open the curtains and let in the light,” Hatchie sings, before a glowing blossom of synths barrels the listener right into the song’s most anthemic refrain. It’s like the light at the end of the tunnel finally breaking through the darkness at just the right moment.

doomsday by Lizzie McAlpine: On her second album five seconds flat, Lizzy McAlpine elevated her personal songwriting with a cinematic scope. This approach is immediately introduced on the album’s opening “doomsday,” a slow-burning ballad chronicling a breakup though the lens of hindsight. McAlpine circles through deathly metaphors throughout the song: pulling the plug, violent ends, her partner as a “murderer” initiating their split on Halloween, the sample of a bone being split in half. This ghoulish gravitas of is backed up by an orchestral swell that makes the melodrama feel earned. These compounding elements build up the song’s momentum until McAlpine’s final revelation slams into you at full force: “I would’ve married you / If you’d stuck around / I feel more free than I have in years / Six feet in the ground.” The relationship may be dead and gone, but McAlpine makes it clear that she’s only getting started.

Lullabye by Grace Ives: Throughout Janky Star, Grace Ives concocts idea-stuffed soundscapes that vacillate between the anxieties and thrills of young adulthood. The earworms come so casually that they even materialize in the album’s moments of brevity. “Lullabye” is a perfect example of this. As the album’s closer, it shows the chaos winding down, giving way to moments of reflection. Ives’s breathily narrates the “lovely mess” of her life: watching movies on repeat, casually attempting gymnastics moves in the kitchen, and swapping confessions with a loved one late into the night. Set against gauzy landscape of synths, skittering drums, and chirpy backing vocals, I turned to the casual wisdom of “Lullabye” all the times this year when life got overwhelming. “No it’s nothing to be sad about,” Ives sings in the song’s closing moments, “It’s just something I’ve been thinking about.” It’s a welcome reminder of the power ruminating on small joys can hold.

Say It by SASAMI: On her latest album Squeeze, SASAMI took to flipping white male-dominated genres like punk and metal to articulate her own rage. One of the best examples of this is “Say It,” an unapologetic frenzy of glitchy rock scuzz. In an Apple Music interview, SASAMI stated that the song was “about the pain of someone not communicating with you,” carried out as she trades places with a bassy, distorted mirror of her own voice. Situated atop a strutting groove concocted of squealing guitars, grumbling bass, and booming drums, it all comes together to form something equal parts cathartic and terrifying. “Say It” might be one of the best rock songs the year had to offer, but amidst the ruckus, it’s first and foremost a call to throw your repentance to the wind and speak your mind.

Yuck by Charli XCX: If you’ve been on TikTok for the past year or so, odds are you’ve come across the idea of “the ick,” the moment in a romantic relationship where something as simple as watching your beau chase a ping-pong ball across the floor flips your feelings of adoration into disgust. It only makes sense that one of pop’s most forward–thinking artists would capture this cultural phenomenon with masterful specificity and simplicity. Over a bouncy synth-heavy beat, Charli XCX lays out the moment when her love interest’s gooey romantic devotion starts to drive her away. Throughout “Yuck,” she takes romantic tropes like puppy dog eyes and bouquets of roses and flips them on their head. The result is the definitive song to throw on when the candy hearts get cloying. After spending the last few years of her career pushing pop to its very limits, her latest album Crash was a welcome reminder that even without all the hyperpop flourishes, she can still write damn good and effortless catchy bangers like this.

Free by Florence + The Machine: How do you persevere in the face of suffering? seems to be the question Florence Welch fixates on most throughout her projects with Florence + The Machine. She’s turned to several places in the past: making a break for freedom on her breakout hit “Dog Days Are Over,” self-destructive love on rock bangers like “Ship To Wreck” and “Shake It Out,” and reconciliation on her previous album, High As Hope. While the definite answer for such a question may never materialize, Welch has recognized how music can be one of the most potent salves for such woes. Her 2022 album Dance Fever provides several welcome additions to Welch’s growing catalog of musical catharsis, but it was “Free,” a free-spirited banger co-written by Jack Antonoff, that ended up hitting me the hardest. “Free” taps into something primal yet graceful, a raucous recognition that sometimes, the most inspiring feelings of freedom come hand in hand with singing at the top of your lungs. “For a moment, when I'm dancing,” Welch declares with titanic vocals over a propulsive drum beat and glittering keys, “I am free.” This relief may be temporary, but for the moment, it’s nothing short of magical.

American Teenager by Ethel Cain: On her debut album Preacher’s Daughter, Ethel Cain chronicles a journey of adolescent ennui and religious turmoil through sprawling, atmospheric ballads. Before she gets into all that, she also proves that she can write a teen pop anthem for the ages. “American Teenager” is the first official song on the album, and while it may be shorter and more immediate than its predecessors, it’s no less deftly crafted. Cain harnesses the larger-than-life, anthemic synth pop of the 80s, accenting the soundscape with shining synths, booming drums, and a bright saxophone solo. While the song relishes in altruistic Americana imagery of crying on the bleachers and whiskey-fueled rebellion, Cain also acknowledges the darkness lurking beneath the jubilation on the surface. The opening verse describes her neighbor’s brother being shipped home in a coffin, “another red heart taken by the American dream.” Still, despite this darkness, there’s a hope at the core of “American Teenager” that catapults it into the stratosphere, that suggests that maybe someday, those promises might come to fruition.

touch tank by quinine: I first came across “touch tank” as a fragment on TikTok, a looping clip of quinnie lip synching along to the first few lines of the chorus: “He’s so pretty / when he goes down on me.” And what an attention-grabbing set of lines they are, it’s not everyday that you stumble across a sweet, unassuming bedroom pop song explicitly discussing cunnilingus. But it isn’t just the refreshingly matter-of-fact references to sex that make “touch tank” stick in the memory, it’s the atmosphere of intimacy quinnie builds around those lines. In its final form, “touch tank” builds an aqueous wonderland of small yet palpably intimate moments, freshly laundered t-shirts, discovering new tattoos, choosing to be gentle. “touch tank” is a tribute to those early stages in a relationship where you’re poking and prodding with care, trying to reach tender places without drawing blood. Rounded out with warm guitars, cooing flutes, and just a twinge of vocal distortion, it’s a song that feels lived in, welcoming, drawing you deeper into its depths with each repeated spin.

What were your favorite songs from this year? Did I miss anything? Leave a comment or tag some in the reblogs and let me know.

This year has been an absolute whirlwind, and I hope you all have some good memories from it. Here’s to a safe, healthy 2023!

#songs #song recommendation #taylor swift #SZA #lucy dacus #carly rae jepsen #beyoncé #charli xcx #florence + the machine #ethel cain #taste in music 2022 faves #taste in music

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hometownrockstar · 1 year

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Do you have any recommended reading material for fat politics?

Fearing the Black Body by Sabrina Strings (link) so vital to understand the antiblack origins of fatphobia and how the western ideal of bodies was originally more "average" (dislike calling bodies average but essentially the perfect body would be regularly be described as not too thin and not too fat) until racist eugenics science and artistic ideals began demonizing black people and equating fatness and blackness, thus spurring medical and societal fatphobia as a reaction to not wanting to look black.

What We Don't Talk About When We Talk About Fat by Aubrey Gordon (link) talks more about the effects of structural and societal fatphobia and its impact on fat people, when fat people are often blamed for being fat as a justification for their oppression.

Health at Every Size by Lindo Bacon (no link bc its not on libgen unfortunately) and more reading u can find on intuitive eating is not only great for deconstructing internalized ideas you may have about "good" and "bad" foods and dieting, but its also a good mindset to learn just personally, its very helpful especially if you struggle with restrictive eating tendencies or guilt associated with it.

I also recommend looking for fat liberationist podcasts (i dont listen to podcasts so i dont have many recs) and activists on twitter and who write articles, specifically people who are fat, there are several who are doctors or dieticians who even debunk and challenge fatphobic myths propagated within the medical industry. fat liberation is a better term to search for than fat positivity or body positivity because while the movement can have good intentions, it doesnt really examine root causes of fatphobia nor societal and structural angles of it, thus it is pretty ineffective at challenging fatphobia and only covers surface-level attraction politics

#fat politics

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raylex · 1 year

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Crystal, moon, pink comb jellyfish! —canon-can-fight-me

hiii sabrina!! I hope you're having a lovely day/night, thank you for the ask! (⌒∇⌒)ﾉ

[CRYSTAL JELLYFISH] ~ How does your F/O act in public? And in contrast, how do they act when they’re in private with you?

surface level-wise? ray is mostly the same either way! he's goofy and fun-loving no matter whether he's with me or his friends.

on a slightly deeper level, though, he's a lot more open and lets himself be emotionally vulnerable with me. I headcanon that he's a guy who often prioritizes other people's needs over his own, so he sort of just... closes off his own emotions instead of dealing with them at times. but he's learnt to be open about it with me ❤

[MOON JELLYFISH] ~ If you had to compare your F/O to any sort of cosmic entity (planets, meteors/comets, stars, black holes, etc), what would you pick and why?

OHH OHHH OKAY THIS IS A FUN ONE!!! I love space!!

my initial thought was the sun. because, y'know, HE'S MY BELOVED RAY OF SUNSHINE. warm and comforting and - not to be cheesy, but - my light in the dark.

however, ray was conjured up from moonbeams! so I feel it's only natural I do associate him with the moon, too. I'm the earth... and he's both my sun AND my moon. 🥹

[PINK COMB JELLYFISH] ~ How clingy would you say your F/O is?

we're both insufferably clingy, HAHAH. can barely go anywhere together without being physically close in some way, whether that be holding hands, or having a hand around the other's waist, or anything like that. though those are just somewhat small gestures - when alone, we're just even MORE affectionate with eachother. snuggles and cuddles are absolutely a daily thing! 😅

#ask games #canon-can-fight-me #💜☀️ray of sunshine☀️💜

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pansyfemme · 1 year

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i understand as a die-hard archie comics fan who knows the majority of the official lore who has watched one episode of riverdale i am the oppisite of the normal demographic who talks abt it (has watched riverdale, very basic understanding of comics) but what i will say abt it is i think a lot of you are misunderstanding one very important detail about riverdale, and that’s the people who are writing about it are definitly huge archie fans. Like, just from my dad’s recaps and the list of characters- i cannot emphathize how much a deep dive some of these names are, not surface characters. In fact, every character in the show no matter how minor ties back to a real character in the comics- including ones that are like. not surface level at all. True, none of the characters in the show actually resemble any of the originals in any meaningful way, but like, i feel like the show is often painted as made by ppl who know nothing abt archie but there is very clearly some knowledge there, which is why its so painful how awful some of the characters are written- and i can’t imagine it’s not a little purposful. like there is absolutly some weird ironic part to it. another part that’s often brought up is that the show’s creator- Roberto Aguirre-Sacasa, was indeed sued back in the day for creating a gay archie stage play. People often act like riverdale was an act of revenge, which is like. i guess, maybe? but what’s missing from that story is that Roberto is a huge figure at archie comics. He’s one of the most important people at the company currently, he is a die-hard archie fan and cares a lot about the company- riverdale isn’t like an insult to them, it’s the most popularity the franchise has had in years. like before riverdale, archie was still doing weird shit all the fucking time. do you remember when archie got shot and died in life with archie? the chilling adventures of sabrina show is a spinoff of just one of the many horror themed comics they tried to make, there were zombie and werewolves and murderers.. they rebooted the whole comic (the run where jughead was famously made asexual) not to mention their collabs with food network, kiss and the show glee of all things. Riverdale is ridiculous, yes, but it is defintly purposful- its not like the writers have no idea what they’re doing like it’s often seen as. i just wanted to shine some light on it since i think its often taken out of proportion when it’s really what archie had always been trying to do- appeal to a new generation and keep afloat through insane methods. (like don’t look at jughead’s time police and jughead’s diner and the other weird spinoff shit they were doing in the past and tell me they don’t deeply enjoy a weird fucking concept.)

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thegirl20 · 1 year

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Yeah, I mean I really can see why people see the mother/daughter thing, although I also like to argue that a mother can have more than one child and yet Tissaia cares about Yennefer than all the others combined lol. Fine, I suppose some people would still see it as parent/child but there would certainly be no small amount of people shipping them. And very few would judge those people for shipping.. Oh I'm under no impression that there's any indication of their relationship going/being romantic

Are you saying Tissaia plays favourites?? How could you suggest such a thing? Perish the thought!! 😉

Yes, Yennefer is Tissaia's favourite, but I think we do get to see her brand of care and compassion for her other wards. She tries to help Fringilla see the error of her ways and return to the right side. She keeps Triss' presence a secret (initially) to protect her and is visibly upset when Triss is angry at her betrayal. She calls them 'my girls'.

I don't actually think we got enough time with the mages to really understand what's going on with them and how everything fits together. I've gleaned a lot from what others have told me about the books, but the show is very surface level in terms of history and lore.

If I'd been writing the show, it would have been called 'Aretuza Academy' and would have shown all of the relationships develop and grow between the sorceresses and would have explained more about the heirarchy of the Brotherhood and how the Council works and stuff.

As it is, I don't think the show does a good job of even telling us where Tissaia sits in the pecking order. In Season 1, she's essentially a teacher and is overruled more than once by others (Yennefer's placement, going to war against Nilfgaard). In Season 1, we barely saw her use magic at all, other than to redirect the lightning bolt Yennefer directed at Sabrina. I've said this elsewhere, but I don't think Fringilla's use of dimeritium to disable Tissaia was actually all that effective, because we as an audience had no idea what level of threat Tissaia was to the other side. If we thought that Tissaia was a high level mage/archmistress and that she single-handedly could have taken down Nilfgaard, then taking her out of the game would have been an 'oh fuck' moment. But we had no basis for thinking that, as we had not seen her unleash her power. Personally I think the gravitas of MyAnna's performance was the only reason anyone had to think that Tissaia was a powerful player, because I'm not entirely sure the narrative supported that. In the first ep of Season 2 we got to see her use her powers more than we had in the entirety of season 1 (seemingly unaffected by inhaling lungfuls of dimeritium), but her level of influence with the Brotherhood and the Council still doesn't seem all that impressive (telling Yen she has to kill Cahir because others want her to etc).

Anyway, I digress.

What I was trying to say is that I think a lot of how we view the characters and relationships in The Witcher comes from our own interpretations and fanon and knowledge from other versions rather than what's been presented on screen, because what was presented on screen was relatively little.

#badassheda #tissaia de vries #yennaia #yennefer x tissaia #the witcher

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charlotte-of-wales · 10 months

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idk if you’ve read them, but all of emily henry’s previous books are romance books alongside the arc of the fmc’s life undergoing a massive change. but the romance definitely is the more important plot. happy place however is very women’s fiction with a romance arc. in other words, the romance isn’t as strong and there’s a lot of heavy topics explored. I LOVED pwmov and went into happy place thinking it would be same… definitely had to stop a short bit in bc I couldn’t get into it. but once I realized what it was and adjusted my expectations I liked it a lot more. it also helped me to have taylor swift in the background lol. it’s a good book imo, it’s just not what many people were expecting yk?

I've read all of her books actually and I am obsessed with book lovers and beach read which is why I had such high hopes for happy place. I've always loved how the main focus of her books aren't just romance but she also focus on the fmc's family relations and past traumas and book lovers especially hit me in the gut when it came to nora's story but in happy place the non romance bit just feels.....surface level? like she's addressing it but not really? granted I have 100 pages to go and things could change but idk. and the romance isn't that great either, these two clearly have issues and instead of talking it out they just have sex. plus sabrina makes me want to punch people <3

#was about to write a goodreads review here damn #answered

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doodlegirl12345 · 2 years

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Sugar Rush {2/2}

Would you believe that this was originally supposedly be an one shot. It's just goes to show that things don't always match up to your expectations. Just like...wait I'm saying too much. Hello my everyone, it's Doodle here with the newest part of the story "Sugar Rush". I hope you like it! 💕

Also available on Wattpad

Sugar Rush {2/2}

Respite.

Time moves quickly, especially in moments of crisis. It’s natural to have the urge to race through things to get the desired results. But in these moments tunnel vision develops causing us to block the truth around us of what seems to be a surface level problem. However, it’s important to take your time to understand the situation that’s right in front of you. Sometimes, it’s a necessity to slow down so your emotions won’t rule over you. When we allow ourselves and others a chance to breathe, the realization will arrive that the solution is actually not that far out of reach.

She could feel herself pleading with the universe while the scales continue to tip against her. If only her wishes could be answered so this current crisis that loomed over the city could be resolved. However she was aware that this cruel world did not work like that. These bitter realities are what brought Sabrina Raincomprix into a wave of internal uproar. She felt powerless where she stood, in line at Rosie’s Café.

Calm surroundings that contrasted with the feeling of distress that had seeped into her veins. Onlookers would rationalize that Sabrina did not have much to worry within the confines of the cozy café. The scenery was pleasant with the interior’s light green walls, dark wooden tables and chairs that filled the dining area. A rustic brick wall behind the main counter that held the cash register. Beside it was a large illuminated dessert case filled with croissants, bagels, muffins and various flavors of cookies. The redhead did not even appear to be in a state of physical disarray.

In fact, Sabrina was dressed quite nicely. She was wearing a light yellow flutter sleeve blouse, a black knee length button up skirt, black lace flats and a black crossbody bag with a triangular white flap with two black bows atop of each other. A part of her hair tucked behind her ear pulled back by a silver hairpin with a diamond bejeweled bee on the end. Sure, the line was long but again there were worse places to be during summer Saturday afternoon.

There were worse places to be in Paris.

Just a few blocks away a city block became stomping ground for an akuma attack. A group of villains calling themselves The Cynical Seven arrived ambushing the heroes who recently resolved a previous attack. The group’s numbers had recently dwindled to four thanks to the solo efforts of Chat Noir in battle. Although the cat’s era of triumph quickly ended almost as soon as it had started with his leg currently pinned against the city’s asphalt by an anvil.

But Sabrina knew about those things as she had watched those events unveiled. Mostly through her phone screen as the local news was broadcasting the fight from a helicopter via the news app that she had downloaded based on her father’s insistence.

Her teal eyes remained transfixed on the screen as she stepped forward in line. Before adjusting the black wireless headphones in her ears. The camera was still panned down on Chat Noir and the remaining members of The Cynical Seven. To watch this felt like an obligation even if that meant with baited breath. Still compromised, Chat Noir struggled to pull his leg from the anvil that brought him down. Meanwhile the residual villains from the hero’s previous skirmish: Pixelator, Horrorifcator, Evillustrator and Volpina loomed over him.

Horrificator bared her razor sharp teeth like a vengeful wolf. Pixelator lightly tapped the crowbar in his hand against his knuckles. Evillustrator kept his pen against the drawing tablet attached to his arm as several darts floated midair pointed at the hero. His eyes laid steadily on Chat Noir, waiting for any sudden movement to vanquish. While the fox villainess herself, Volpina had one end of her flute pressed underneath Chat Noir’s chin.

“Now you three knows the rules,” Volpina gleefully turned to her teammates. “The leader gets the first hit. So Chat Noir this is your last chance. Tell us where Ladybug and the new bee girl is and we might go easy on you.”

“Wow you might? You four are so kind,” the cat snarked while tilting his head to the side. However the pain in his eyes was evident. “That almost makes up for the anvil on my leg. Almost.”

“Oh shut up!” the fox shouted. “I don’t know why you’re acting so smug considering the situation that you’re in!”

“It’s because what you’re trying to do is all one big joke.”

“Big joke?”

“Yeah, I just said I wouldn’t tell you anything. But I am willing to talk about something else. So what do you think of the weather lately? I heard the next couple days are going to be pretty hot.”

“Why you-“ Volpina started before her eyes widened. “Wait, you think so? Shadow Moth says that you’re stalling.”

“Me stalling? Why would you think that?”

“You just asked me about the weather.”

“It’s better than asking something that you will never get an answer to beyond what I told you. If Ladybug has been taking this long she must be putting together one of her elaborate plans,” Chat Noir raised his ring hand. “Or she’s gathering an army, maybe I should join them! Cata-“

But before the cat could finish that phase strips of plastic and nylon wrapped around his face forming a muzzle-like mask suited for a human over the lower half of his face, snuffing out his voice. Chat Noir’s eyes filled with shock. Sound came out but it was completely unintelligible.

“Shadow Moth said that would try something like that,” Evillustrator explained. “Don’t even try to take it off as I made it impossible to do so.”

Chat Noir did not obey as he tried to pull it off with all his strength. To only recoil in pain as if it had merged with his skin.

It was true. There were worse places in the city. But that was the thing…Sabrina actually wanted to be there. She wanted to be that fight. She wanted to fulfill her duty. She wanted to share the weight of the world on her shoulders.

That is what she did as Honeybee, the second bee miraculous holder.

The redhead ran a hand through her hair to pull out a lock to twirl to ease her nerves. She felt the cold metal of the silver hairpin behind her ear, bringing her down into a deeper level of apprehension. The burden of having access to the tool needed but not the ability to use it.

It was bee miraculous hidden in camouflage mode.

Sabrina stepped forward in line as a long string of people followed behind her. This predicament was unplanned, of course. Today was supposed to be her first patrol run with Ladybug and Chat Noir similar to the other reserve heroes before her. Plans already steered off course due to prior akuma attacks that involved the city’s zoo animals. Now they were completely off the map. Within a purple fog, The Cynical Seven arrived shortly after both Ladybug and Honeybee used both their powers in battle. Chat Noir told the girls to recharge and he could hold off the villains until they came back. All three of the heroes were unaware of the problem that soon faced them. That between the heroines neither of them had a morsel of food between them for the kwamis.

Ladybug was quick to blame herself but was brought back to earth by Sabrina. Since this was an fixable problem the girls made an agreement that they would go their separate ways to get food in one of the nearby shops and return to battle immediately after recharging. But when the redhead arrived at Rosie’s Café it was swarmed with customers. The assumption was people decided to take shelter here due to the attacks. Sabrina stayed figuring that it would be more logical than running across the city to find an empty shop, wasting time. She had taken her place in line while Pollen sat patiently in her purse.

Without the glamor of her miraculous she would have to follow the rules just like everyone else. But that did not make it easier to see one of her teammates in trouble and not having the ability to do anything.

“You know what you tried to do for a second could be seen as impressive,” said Volpina. “If you weren’t already several steps ahead of you, Chat Noir.”

Chat Noir said something but just like before his words were intelligible. His eyes hardened while reaching toward the fox presumably to grab her necklace. But Volpina harshly struck his hand back with her flute.

“You need to remember your place,” the fox hissed. “The only reason why we haven’t seen your ugly mug underneath that mask is because your bait for Ladybug to come back. So unless you want me to rip that ring off your finger, right now. You’ll learn to play nice.”

A chill ran down Sabrina’s spine at how pointed Volpina’s words were. It also unlocked another fear.

Where was Ladybug?

She hadn’t arrived on the scene yet and that deepened her concern. Her teammate has a bit of a spiral after finding out the issue with the snacks. But at the same time in the short time that she had personally known her. The redhead knew she wouldn’t intentionally leave them high and dry. But that still didn’t lessen the worry.

“That’s right Kitty,” the fox twirled her flute between her fingers. “This time I’m going to finally win. This won’t be like at the TV station.”

The cat’s eyes widened, it appeared as if something had clicked together in his mind. At that moment Evillustrator looked up at the sky, right at the camera.

Suddenly the darts that were floating above Chat Noir changed direction with a slide of a pen. The darts launched into the air akin to missiles flying straight at the camera and presumably the helicopter. This was followed by a barrage of arrows that flew toward the camera causing the camera’s perspective to tip over towards the side. An arrow pierced the camera’s lens causing the picture to become fuzzy for a few seconds until reaching a state of complete blackness.

The broadcast had been disconnected.

Sabrina could feel her heart plummet. Her window to the other side of her life had been abruptly closed.

She started to shake her phone almost as if the bottle holding her concerns and worries had just shattered. “What no! This can’t be happening! You can’t do this! You need to come back on! I need to know that he’s okay!”

Was the city doomed?

“Excuse me?” asked a voice. “Are you ready to order?”

The redhead looked up from her blank phone screen to see the male cashier behind the counter in front of her. The cashier looked to be in his early twenties, he had curly black hair, fair skin and brown eyes. He was wearing a green t-shirt and black apron with a matching name tag that had the name “Mitchell”.

A shade of red overtook Sabrina’s face as she suddenly could feel multiple sets of eyes right on her. She took a long deep breath while pulling her wireless earbuds off and put them in her purse with her cellphone.

Just remember the thing about penguins. She thought. Even when given the short end of the stick they make use with what they have.

“Yes, I’m ready,” Sabrina told the cashier. “Can I have one snickerdoodle cookie please?”

“Sure,” Mitchell entered the order in the register. “Would there be anything else?”

“Um…” Sabrina started as the rich smell of chocolate began wafting through the air.

The redhead noticed to the right and a few feet back from Mitchell was a doorway in the brick wall where it seemed the smell was coming from, presumably the café’s kitchen.

Her eyes laid on the dessert case once more. She looked at the cookies, granted she wasn’t exactly hungry right now but it could be saved for later once the current crisis is over.

At least that was what the optimistic side of her would like to think.

“I’ll also take one chocolate chip cookie, please,” Sabrina told him.

“Sure,” Mitchell inputted the second order. “That will be three dollars.”

Sabrina paid, receiving two large individually wrapped in white paper cookie pouches. She put the snickerdoodle in her purse for Pollen to start eating. Meanwhile the chocolate chip cookie was still in her hand as she walked toward the exit. As she opened it a familiar face came through the door.

Her friend, Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

“Marinette?” Sabrina smiled as her friend entered. “I would love to chat but I gotta-“

However before she could finish Sabrina took a closer look at her friend. Marinette looked frazzled, there were deep dark circles underneath her eyes and it looked like she had been crying recently. Her usually sleek pigtails looked messy as if she had been recently pulling on them. Overall, the designer looked disheveled not just in appearance but also in spirit.

“Hi Sabrina,” she waved.

“Hi,” the redhead nervously bit her lip. “How are you?”

“Fine, I just came here to get a cookie. Oh, aren’t you leaving?”

“Yeah, but you need a cookie from here? A daughter of two bakers isn’t that sacrilegious or something?”

“My parents don’t mind, especially since I’m pretty far from home,” Marinette sniffled. “It’s really not a big deal.”

“Hey is everything okay?” Sabrina sounded concerned. “Not trying to sound mean here but…you don’t look okay.”

“I’m fine!” the designer plastered a big smile on her face that would make circus clowns envious. “I just need to get my cookie and everything will be fine. Now weren’t you leaving? Don’t let me waste anymore of your time.”

It was true, Sabrina was supposed to leave but after seeing her friend. There was something making her unable to pull away. Marinette faced the line which appeared to consist of at least fifteen people similar to when Sabrina had originally arrived.

“Is that the line to order?” she looked back at the redhead.

“Yeah, it’s pretty long isn’t it?” Sabrina said. “I was talking to the lady in front of me. She said it seems that many people had taken shelter because of the akuma attacks.”

“Yeah I heard about them. Even watched a part of the news broadcast with Chat Noir fighting those villains on the way here. It looked like it had gotten pretty bad before the broadcast got cut off…” Marinette trailed off while she turned back around.

Suddenly tears appeared in the designer’s eyes as she started to cry. She rubbed her eyes as if that was an attempt to stop herself but it seemed that the storm just continued on.

Sabrina’s eyes widened but without another thought she walked over to her crying friend, giving her a hug. It seemed to take the designer by surprise but after a few seconds she embraced it. After a moment the redhead let her go.

“Okay, I’m going to ask this again,” said Sabrina. “Are you sure that you are okay?”

“No not really,” Marinette admitted while wiping away her tears. “I…I’ve been having a pretty bad day. A day when I really have a full plate nonetheless. It just feels that no matter what I do things are just getting worse. It feels like everything is my fault.”

“I know how that feels.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, there’s been a couple days that I know I won’t include in any scrapbook anytime soon. In fact, I would delete a lot of them from memory. But I’m trying to start to give myself a little more leeway.”

“I don’t know if I can do it today. Especially when I really need a cookie from here.”

“Wow you must be really hungry and specific.”

“Technically it’s not for me…it’s for one of my cousins, Tessa. I’m supposed to meet her today at her place as we have plans to see a play. I brought a…cupcake for her. But I had forgotten it on the bus and didn’t realize it until after I got off.”

“That’s terrible.”

“I know it already made this less than stellar day worse. But felt like I couldn’t go empty handed as I…already texted her that I was bringing her a sweet surprise. So I went to Desrosiers’ Bakery first but it had a sign attached to the door that said ‘closed for the weekend’.”

“Yeah I heard that the family that runs it went to the beach for the weekend.”

“So I came here Tessa doesn’t mind either place as both are close to her home when she can’t stop by my family’s bakery. I just wanted to make up for my mistake even though I’m on a timetable. Things didn’t go as planned even before I got on the bus. So when I saw that long line it’s like I broke for the moment.”

“It’s okay, that happens. Sometimes when you don’t have a chance to pause your emotions can rule over you,” Sabrina told her, remembering her outburst just a few moments ago. “But even then it doesn’t make you a weak person. It just makes you human. As my aunt always suggests, just take a few breaths.”

The designer took a few deep breaths, like she was trying to relieve tension.

“Do you feel better?” the redhead asked.

“Much better,” her friend replied. “I shouldn’t be wasting any more of your time. I need to get in line to get Tessa’s chocolate chip cookie. So I’ll see you.”

“Wait, did you say chocolate chip?”

“Yeah…it’s Tessa’s favorite thing from here. It’s the least that I can do to make up for what happened. I just hope it won’t be too late.”

Sabrina looked at the cookie pouch in her hand for a moment. “You know, you remind me of someone.”

“Really?” Marinette suddenly looked a little nervous. “It’s not Chloé, is it?”

Sabrina laughed while shaking her head. “No, it’s not her. In fact I don’t think she would go to this length just to fix a mistake. I was thinking about someone else who was also having a tough time today. I told her about something that my aunt did for me with penguins.”

“Penguins?”

“Yeah, long story short it’s a way to take a moment to pause and gain a more level head in a crisis. There was one thing that I didn’t have a chance to tell her since I was in a rush. But one thing about penguins is that even though they can’t fly, they are excellent swimmers. When given the short end of the stick they work with they have. It’s something that I think a lot of people should take note of.”

“That’s good advice.”

“That is why I want you to follow it. Penguins got their ability to swim and you got me,” Sabrina offered Marinette the cookie. “Take it, it’s a chocolate chip cookie.”

“Really, are you sure? You’re willing to help me even though my problem seems pretty small.”

“If it’s something that’s involving my friends, then the problem is never too small. I will always have your back. Now go, I’m sure your cousin is starting to wonder about you. I doubt you want to miss that play either.”

“Thank you so much,” Marinette smiled, it really seemed genuine. Her blue eyes were practically shining with happiness. “You’re literally a lifesaver.”

“I always try my best. We’re still on for starting my fox miraculous cosplay at your place tomorrow, right?”

“Definitely, I’ll see you tomorrow,” the designer called back as she raced out of the cafe.

Sabrina smiled before darting out of the café herself. Eventually she entered an empty alleyway when Pollen popped her head out the redhead’s purse.

“That was really nice what you did for your friend,” said the bee kwami.

“Of course, Marinette has always been so nice to me. Especially these past couple weeks,” Sabrina told her. “Hopefully she will have a good time at that play with her cousin. I’ll see how she is doing tomorrow just to make sure that she’s actually okay. So are you full?”

“Yep and there’s still half of the cookie left.”

“Perfect, that means if we need another recharge we don’t have to go back. Now let’s go as we got a city to save. Pollen, buzz on!”

A few moments later Honeybee flipped onto a rooftop as her trompo retracted back into her hand. Suited up in her costume, a black collared jumpsuit with matching full length gloves with fluffy pollen like cuffs. The suit had a bright yellow torso with a black v-shaped stripe across the chest with two similar shaped stripes underneath. The lower half was black with tall boots with thin triangular bands at the knees and yellow platform wedges at the bottom. Her mask was yellow and back with the colors divided longways with yellow on top and black on bottom. Her long reddish orange hair with jet black highlights was pulled back into a high ponytail by a black headband with ribbons like antennas sticking out, sharply contrasting with her fair skin and teal blue eyes. But the most important thing of note was the golden bee themed hair comb placed on the right side of her head.

The bee was back.

She leaped from rooftop to rooftop in a form of a blitz, ready for the battle. A few seconds later she saw Ladybug on a rooftop ahead of her leaping in her own brisk pace. The bee picked up hers, eventually running side by side with her teammate.

“Great to see you back in action,” greeted Honeybee.

“So I’m I. But I would be lying to say that there hadn’t been any struggle,” Ladybug admitted while they leaped onto another rooftop. “Luckily, a friend was willing to help me out.”

“Sounds like your friend came at the right time for you.”

“Yeah, she did. I’m really thankful that I met up with her. It’s great to know that one choice I recently had made was a good one.”

“The local news broadcasted the fight between The Cynical Seven and Chat Noir. It was getting pretty bad before the broadcast cut off.”

“I saw it. That’s why we need to get Chat out of there soon as possible. I figured afterwards we can get the other heroes like Rena Rouge and Carapace after getting him to safety. Especially since Chat might have to sit out the rest of the fight.”

The heroines continued launching themselves from rooftop to rooftop. But once they got closer to the root of their problem all of a sudden Ladybug had stopped right in tracks.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Honeybee slowed down after realizing.

“It’s just…I hear something,” Ladybug told her. “Don’t you?”

The bee stopped while cupping her ear. “Yeah it sounds like a kid laughing nearby. What does that have to do with us?”

“Think about it, we aren’t in a residential area and there aren’t many people outside. So why are we hearing this so close? We might have to change our route.”

“Huh? What about Chat Noir? You just said we had to save him.”

“If I’m right then this is going to help Chat Noir more than us back there. Look, I know that I haven’t been on my A-game today. But I need you to trust me on this. Can you do that for me, Honeybee?”

The bee stared back at her. A few seconds of deliberation went by before giving a simple nod.

“Thanks,” Ladybug tossed her yoyo toward the complete opposite direction of their original route. “Now follow me.”

A moments later Honeybee and Ladybug hid behind a building’s rooftop air conditioning unit. The girls peeked from the unit’s sides to examine the rooftop a couple feet away from them. On the rooftop there was a little girl sitting alone. She had on a puffed sleeved black layered fairy dress with multiple cyan accents on the sleeves, skirt and bodice. Black long fingerless gloves were on her hands while black stockings donned her feet. Her skin was light purple while her hair was styled into high free standing pigtails with long light cyan spike-like tips on each.

In her hand was a black star shaped wand with cyan on each of the star’s points. She waved her wand at rag doll versions of Volpina, Horrifcator, Evillustrator, Pixelator, Animan, The Mime and Troublemaker. The Volpina, Horrorifcator, Evillustrator and Pixelator dolls were actively moving on their own and kept striking downwards like they were attacking. Beside her was a purple cardboard box that had a sheet of paper attached to it.

“I knew it,” Ladybug whispered. “That laughing sounded too familiar. All this time this was Puppeteer’s doing.”

“Who is…” Honeybee trailed off while whispering back.

“Right, I forgot that you’re still new around here. But I did put her in the database. Chat Noir and I had fought with her twice a few months ago. She used dolls that her babysitter had made to turn people back into their villainous personas and control them. She was obsessed with beating us, this is probably why she doesn’t have Ladybug or Chat Noir dolls with her.”

“Well, what’s the point of trying to win a game if you are just handed things?”

“Exactly, as where’s the fun in that? I wouldn’t be surprised if that was the logic that Shadow Moth used with her.”

Honeybee shuddered with the thought of being forced back into one of her villainous personas. Especially since she liked to think of them as bad remnants of a less than favorable past. She faintly remembered one night months ago when her father came home from work, she asked how his shift was. He slightly brushed her off but did mention something about having an encounter with an akumatized child and some dolls. It seemed that her father did not want to talk about it and she did not want to push as this was a time when akumas was still seen as an oddity.

“I noticed that the villains did sound pretty juvenile while talking during a few moments,” the bee admitted. “But I really never questioned since I never fought them before. So wait, does that mean she got those dolls from her babysitter?”

“I doubt that, besides Evillustrator, none of the other villains have returned from the first fight. Shadow Moth probably made those dolls himself or got them commissioned. That just makes me wonder how long he had this plan in the works.”

“So what’s our plan?”

“Relying on the tried and true,” Ladybug tossed her yoyo high in the air. “Lucky Charm.”

A sheen light shined over the bug’s suit turning it into her lucky charm suit. The yoyo spun, releasing little hearts that formed a large object that landed in the spotted heroine’s hand.

It was a large ladybug patterned doll box.

“A doll box?” Honeybee questioned. “Well that’s fitting considering our situation. But what’s in it?”

“It’s you,” Ladybug turned the box over to show her.

Inside of the box was a doll version of Honeybee. The doll was about forty inches and dressed in the bee heroine’s costume. It had the same reddish orange hair pulled into a high ponytail and bright teal blue eyes. In other words, the doll was a spitting image. Instead of being a rag doll like the villains it was hard plastic like a Barbie doll. The box was labeled “The Heroic Honeybee”. Besides the doll itself was a miniature toy trompo and yellow plastic doll hairbrush.

“Wow I appreciate your kwami’s craftsmanship but what are we supposed to do with this adorable thing?” the bee questioned. “You know, besides selling it online.”

“Nah I’ll rather give it away,” Ladybug ran her finger across her yoyo to open it. Once it did she pulled out a small rectangular white carton and opened it revealing a rainbow of macarons. “Care for a cookie?”

Meanwhile Puppeteer still seemed to be having the time of her life as her laughs continued to echo throughout the block. However after a few seconds it had died down.

“So when is Ladybug and that new bee girl coming back?” Puppeteer questioned as she watched her dolls move. “No I’m not talking to you, stupid cat! Mr. Shadow Moth, this is getting boring. I did what you told me and said what you wanted me to say. How I’m supposed to win if Ladybug doesn’t show up.”

There was a beat of silence.

“Patience! Patience! Patience!” she shouted. “You sound just like my mommy. You remember her, she was the one who wouldn’t let me play with these new and improved dolls that were at our front door this morning. Even though it had my name on it, not hers! She said she didn’t want me playing with them. Since she didn’t know where they had come from and took them away before going to work. Why do all you grown-ups sound the same?”

Suddenly there was a soft thud from behind, causing Puppeteer to turn around to see the Honeybee doll facing her.

“Ooo, what’s this? she asked, putting her wand down and approached the box. “She’s so pretty. I didn’t know that they had a doll of her.”

Puppeteer smiled as she was about to pick up the box. “Where did it come from? Who cares? It’s a free doll and a big one too. You…you sound just like my mommy! So it’s true, all grown-ups do sound the same!”

She stomped her feet.

“I don’t know why you are worried. I can use my wand on this to control Honeybee,” the akuma explained, resting her hand on the doll box. “Just like I did with Chat Noir the first time.”

“Control me?” said a voice above. “Good luck with that as those days are long over.”

Puppeteer looked up as she knocked over the doll in shock. Up in the sky floating in front of her was Galaxy Bee, the flying suit version of Honeybee. The black stripes of her costume had become a bright neon blue. The pollen cuffs were replaced with rocket-like fins and had a yellow space helmet that left her long ponytail exposed. On her back was a small jet pack that resembled glass paneled bee wings.

“Wait, how did you know about me?!” Puppeteer shouted. “I was supposed to be a secret!”

“You can thank Ladybug for that, she was the one that figured out that The Cynical Seven is actually The Egregious Eight. She’s the type that can’t fool for too long. But wow, Shadow Moth I knew you had no dignity but using someone who’s probably not even out of primary school yet,” the bee kept her hands behind her back. “You really do just throw stuff at the wall and see what sticks, don’t you, Mothy?”

The akuma glared at her. “He says that he doesn’t like that name.”

“Well Sweetie, I’ll stop calling him his new nickname when his audacity stops interrupting my Saturday plans. Besides Mothy, I thought you realized after the earlier fight that I like to mock. Personally, I would rather use gravel chunks for bubblegum before directly insulting a child. And no, just because you have the mindset of a child Shadow Moth doesn’t mean you are exempt from this.”

“Be quiet you super meanie!” Puppeteer shouted, throwing The Mime doll at the bee.

The bee simply moved a little to the left causing the rag doll to fly past her. “You missed.”

“Where’s my wand!” the akuma turned around. “You’re in trouble now! My puppets will get you just like they did with Chat Noir. Where’s my w-“

“Looking for this?” Honeybee moved her hand from her back showing off the wand in her hand. “You gotta love these jet packs, they’re so silent you don’t even hear them. Even when they’re right behind you. So, let’s do this. Volpina, Horrorifcator, Evillustrator and Pixelator freeze!”

She waved the wand at the dolls causing them to freeze.

The bee waved the wand again. “Volpina, Horrorifcator, Evillustrator and Pixelator step away from the cat and sit on the sidewalk.”

The dolls followed orders as they walked toward the edge of the rooftop and sat down cross legged. Honeybee smiled, figuring that the real life counterparts were doing the same thing a few blocks away.

“GIVE ME BACK MY WAND!” Puppeteer soared into the air charging right at the bee.

Swiftly, Honeybee flew down avoiding the akuma’s hands and landed on the rooftop. “Let this be a lesson to you for the future, people aren’t toys. And they are definitely not tools to hurt other people!”

The bee threw the wand on the ground and stomped on it with her wedge heel. The toxic butterfly flew out of the wand’s shards and started to flutter away.

“NOOOO!” Puppeteer screamed before grabbing her own head as it appeared that Shadow Moth had quite a few words for her.

“It’s on you Ladybug!” Honeybee shouted.

The bug emerged from behind the air conditioner unit and threw her yoyo into the air, catching the butterfly in mid air. She spun her yoyo while leaping onto the rooftop with Honeybee, purifying the insect.

“Bye-bye little butterfly,” Ladybug released the now white butterfly. The bug picked up the Honeybee doll and tossed it in the air. “Miraculous Ladybug!”

A wave of ladybugs began washing over the city to repair damages.

“Well your flair for perfection has returned Ladybug,” Honeybee held up her fist the usual celebratory fist bump as her teammate approached her. “Nice job figuring out about Puppeteer. I would have never would of consider-“

Before she could finish that sentence Ladybug pulled her into a tight hug.

“I never had a chance to thank you for what you said back there before we separated,” she said. “Thank you, with all that I’ve been through lately. I needed to hear what you had said. You were amazing out there with Puppeteer.”

“You literally did the same for me weeks ago,” the bee hugged her back as waves of Ladybug flew around them to clean the rooftop. “The least that I can do is start paying it forward. Just what I said to another friend of mine, I will always try to have your back.”

Suddenly there was a buzzing sound causing Ladybug to look at her yoyo in her hand. The center spot had the phone symbol in the middle.

“It must be Chat,” she told her while letting go. “He’s the only other person that has this number right now.”

“He is probably calling to ask what the heck just happened,” the bee speculated as she saw a dark inky cloud of darkness formed over Puppeteer. “Not that I’ll blame him.”

“Sorry that your first patrol run didn’t go as planned,” Ladybug slid open her yoyo.

Honeybee smiled. “It’s okay, that’s what happens when you share the weight of carrying the world.”

The End.

Thanks for reading! 😊

Holy plot twist, Batman! So did any of you see the ending coming? I hoped you like this story, this was the first time that I had done an intentional plot twist so I hope I did thrown anyone too off. Mainly I wanted to do with this story was attempting to balance Sabrina and Marinette's friendship. As if you look at the previous stories Marinette has done a lot for Sabrina and while it's not like Sabrina never done anything for Marinette.

Heck, her becoming Honeybee is an significant contribution for Ladybug. But at the same time for the couple Sabrina stories is going to have them as really good friends. So I wanted firmly set the stage for this as being more than just Marinette's kindness. But it's because during one of Marinette's most stressful days Sabrina did not hesitate to help and console her. Let's think of some of the people who can be put in that category: Alya, Chat Noir and Luka.

Obviously there are other people that been kind to her but those three characters had been there to lean on. These are people that Marinette does think highly of. So this could be something that Marinette consider another person for that list (at least in this AU because their friendship is nonexistent in the show. If only.) As for the Puppeteer twist, I always wanted to use some of the previous villains and found a good way to unite them. It's also made logical sense why so many people in different walks of life and different social circles got all upset at once that made them targets for Shadow Moth.

The song for this week is pretty retro. It technically came out before I was even born. As one thing you might not know about me is that I do have an soft spot for retro media. But I think it does fit the theme.

The song this week is "Best Friend" by Brandy.

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This is also available on Wattpad

Next time I'm considering doing something a little different compared to the recent post. So stay tuned.

See you next time. 👋

#miraculous ladybug #ml fanfic #miraculous au #sabrina raincomprix #ml sabrina #ml chat noir #ml ladybug #sabrina redemption #bee!sabrina #miraculous fanfic #bee miraculous #my writing #wattpad #fanfic

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fimproda · 18 hours

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do you have aswell some movies or tv series with also good plot twists, or that in general you like narrative wise?

Dude, how can I tell you this...

I've got too many 🫠

TV Shows:

Sense8 on Netflix. I'll never get over its cancellation. It was such a good story, with great actors and characters, a compelling narrative, wonderful music and photography, and it was created by the Wachowski sisters of Matrix fame. At least we got two full seasons and a final episode that wrapped up all the plot lines as best as it could.

Anything by Mike Flanagan. You can find The Haunting of Hill House, The Haunting of Bly Manor, The Fall of the House of Usher, Midnight Mass, and The Midnight Club on Netflix; if I recall correctly, there's also his adaptation of Gerald's Game from the homonymous book by Stephen King (but this one is a movie). As for Guillermo del Toro, I think Mike Flanagan's brand of horror is more of a gothic story, with ghosts and other paranormal elements. He always chooses stellar actors and the photography is just top tier.

Dark on Netflix. It's a German show that deals with time travel and its respective paradoxes, and that's how much I'm willing to tell you.

The Umbrella Academy on Netflix. I wouldn't have even begun to care about this show if it hadn't been for Robert Sheehan, but it's actually nice, all things considered; it has a very peculiar aesthetic that not many productions can hope to achieve.

Chilling Adventures of Sabrina on Netflix. It's one of the cringiest, most senseless things I've ever had the displeasure to watch, but God if it makes me laugh. For all the wrong reasons, sure, but it does. I hate Sabrina so much, I want to slap her across the face so much, that rewatching this garbage fire of a show serves as an outlet for all my frustration and anger. I rewatch it religiously at least once a year.

Good Omens on Amazon Prime. Speaking of this, I forgot to recommend you the homonymous book by Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett, which is one of the most hilarious books I've ever read. I'd only advise you to watch season one, though; I haven't watched season two yet, but I've heard about it, and it's kind of meh narrative-wise.

American Gods on... I don't know, the Starz network? I read the Nail Gaiman book and loved it (forgot to recommend it to you, too), and I really liked season 1. Season 2 was meh, just like Good Omens. I think they made a third season, but I'm not sure. Anyway, both the book and the show are a must if you like mythology, in my opinion.

Let's stay on the Neil Gaiman train: The Sandman on Netflix. Tom Sturridge's performance as Dream (especially his voice) makes it worth a watch by itself, and if I hadn't already realized that I'm an uncurable bisexual, seeing Mason Alexander Park as Desire would've done it. But jokes aside, it's a lovely, well-made show that surely won't waste your time.

Westworld on HBO. At surface level, it's a story about a Far-West-themed park populated by androids. I only watched season one, so I don't know how the show develops from there, but I can tell you that the plot twist is *chef kiss*. Terrific actors, too — and I seem to recall a pretty naked Ben Barnes in one memorable scene.

Speaking of Ben Barnes, Shadow and Bone on Netflix. It's one of the few times an adaptation is better than the book(s) it's been adapted from, and I'm still not done being salty about its cancellation. I think that the show's new storylines fit the characters better than the books', and those things I didn't like in the books have been explained and/or done better by the show.

Brooklyn 99 on Netflix (at least, it's on Netflix in Italy/in the EU). It's a completely different thing than all the other ones above it, and I think it's fitting as my last entry for this list. It manages to combine a comedy show and a cop show in a perfectly natural way, and even the last two/three seasons, which are considerably worse than the previous ones, still remain funny and enjoyable. Plus, Jake Peralta and Amy Santiago are Cassian and Nesta in another universe. Change my mind.

Movies:

Call Me By Your Name. I would never recommend you the book, as it's some of the most pretentious, boring shit I've ever read, but the movie is another thing entirely. Although, might I say, I haven't been able to bring myself to rewatch it since all the allegations about Armie Hammer came out. Pity; I liked him and his chemistry with Timothée Chalamet in this one.

Donnie Darko. This movie turned 20 years old a couple of days ago, but it's still great even in the Year of the Lord 2024. It's a bit cryptic, sure; I myself have never been able to completely understand it. 10/10 anyway.

The Shawshank Redemption, adapted from a novella by Stephen King titled Rita Hayworth and Shawshank Redemption. It's a story about a prison escape, and I'm not going to tell you anything more than this.

Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind. This wonderful title has been translated in Italian as Se mi lasci ti cancello, "if you leave me, I'll delete you". Too spoiler-y of a title if you ask me, but this should give you an idea of what this movie is about.

The Truman Show and the Matrix trilogy, which are adaptations of Plato's allegory of the cave — and which, indeed, my philosophy professor made us watch at the end of the third year of high school.

Shrek 2. Yes, the second one specifically. Best movie ever made.

#ask response #ask reply #tv show recommendations #show recommendations #movie recommendation

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pm-memeteam · 3 months

Text

Following the blueprint of the initial turret design, I crafted a second variation, distinguished by its larger size and capability to unleash powerful plasma beams. This upgraded version not only enhances the threat level within the environment but also adds diversity to the challenges our duo will encounter.

In line with the development process of the initial turret, I created a rough low-poly animation to demonstrate its emergence from the environment. This animation provides a visual representation of the turret's mechanics and how it integrates seamlessly into the surroundings, adding depth and immersion to the gameplay experience.

I found Gabriel Radic's Ion cannon to be a particularly insightful reference that resonated with my design process. The intricacies and innovative features of Radic's work provided valuable inspiration and guidance as I refined my own concepts and techniques.

youtube

Further Notes

While looking at turrets and hard surface design I found a new Artist I really liked! Sabrina Garcia. I haven't seen her before, but her work was fronted on Art station and she seemed to be a newer artist rising up and making a name for herself. I thought her concept art was ground-breaking, and presented in a excellent and unique way.

I'm unable to upload it here but this Turret includes a video with sound, of how it open out from the wall. This can be viewed here:

I found it very impressive. The design boasts excellent shape language, and I believe my own turret designs would have benefited from discovering her work sooner. My turrets seem to lack the intricate hard surface detailing that makes hers stand out. However, I intentionally opted for a more minimalist design to simplify the modeling process for our 3D team and ensure timely completion.

While not a turret, another concept I truly admired is this sci-fi fighter/space jet cockpit.

This also has accompanying video's to compliment the concept, these can be viewed here:

I'll definitely keep an eye on this artist. She has set a new standard for presenting concept art, and I aspire to reach this level of quality in my own future presentations.

References

Gabriel Radic. (2019). Ion Cannon - Retractable Turret Test Animation. [Online Video]. Available at: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ARLOr9aOKCI [Accessed 11th March 2024]

Garcia, S (2024). FD-03 Point Defence Turret. [Digital Art]. Available at: https://www.artstation.com/artwork/lD2k0z (Accessed 11th March 2024)

Garcia, S. (2024). Portfolio. [Online]. Available at: https://www.artstation.com/sab_3d (Accessed 11th March 2024)

Garcia, S (2023). SUPA-SONIC Cockpit. [Digital Art]. Available at: https://www.artstation.com/artwork/140YN2 (Accessed 11th March 2024)

#Youtube

0 notes

night-garden-fic · 6 months

Text

Interlude: A Heart-Shaped Prism

(Read on AO3)

"How did this go so horribly wrong?"

Interlude: A Heart-Shaped Prism

When Sabrina first arrived in Kardia, Lady Ann didn't think much of her.

Neither party was particularly at fault for this The newly-widowed Lady of the Inn simply found the young fisherwoman's light, careless approach to life a bit difficult to stomach alongside her own struggles and still-fresh grief; though she knew, on some level, that Sabrina must have seen some struggles of her own, given that she was raising an infant son on her own in that tumbledown shack by the sea.

Nonetheless, and despite their differences, it was almost inevitable that the two would form some sort of friendship. They were—discounting asocial ageless oddities like Mei and Sharron—the only grown women in their tiny village for quite some time, and that at least counted for something; even if, at the end of the day, they had little in common besides motherhood and men.

It helped, of course, that it had often been the same man. In good times and bad, they always had something to discuss over tea.

"...You're still seeing Russell, right?"

Lady Ann watched as Sabrina refilled their cups, and couldn't help but notice that her typically bright-eyed friend looked strangely pensive.

"I am, yes."

Sabrina blew ripples on the surface of her cup, brow furrowing slightly.

"How does he seem to you?"

Lonely. Tired. Desperate.

Lady Ann blew on her own cup with a sigh.

"Oh, you know... He's Russell. Seems a little spaced out, maybe a little down..."

Sabrina gazed deep into her teacup, as though trying to read the leaves before the tea had even been drunk.

"So, nothing out of the ordinary?"

What, indeed, was ordinary?

Lady Ann remembered their last meeting; the glassy eyes, the bad hangover, the vulnerable gaunt ridge of the spine. The frenzied ardor in his posture as he leaned across her desk, and in his jaws as he bit down on her hand. It all painted a somewhat concerning picture, but surely they had both seen him worse.

"I don't know... I guess he seems off, but I think we've all got a little cabin fever right now. And he's been losing weight all winter, but didn't you say that was normal for him?"

It must have been, because Sabrina looked troubled, but not at all surprised.

"Russell... Slows down this time of year."

Lady Ann wasn't sure if "slow" was quite the right word. Russell had seemed a bit run-down and depressed of late, but there was a frenetic core beneath all that listlessness; a careless urge to test his own limits that went beyond even her own considerable comfort zone.

He keeps asking you to touch the candle flame directly to his skin.

"Well, then I can't wait for spring... You know he... Well, we both know Russell likes to play rough. But honestly, I've been afraid to even do anything to him lately. The way he's been... I'm scared I'll hurt him for real."

In spite of her troubled mood, Sabrina smiled slightly.

"Oh, I wouldn't worry about that... He's always been sturdier than he seems."

In her gut, Lady Ann felt that, at least for now, the opposite was the case.

But that was just a feeling; those notoriously unreliable old things.

She briskly cast it aside, allowing the conversation to move on to Neumann's good-natured bumblings and Nicholas's wild adventures, both of which brought to mind her own feckless son. Yet more masculine mayhem, to be sure, but of an almost comforting kind. The two friends laughed and sipped and commiserated, until it was time for them to return to their respective duties.

On the short walk back to the Inn, Lady Ann's mind returned to Russell once more. Absent-mindedly, she stroked the edge of her hand, where he had briefly sunk in his teeth.

It didn't even leave a mark.

For some strange reason, she almost wished it had. It was just so sudden, and so unusual, that it should have left some tangible proof. A tiny, ephemeral souvenir of her lover's passion.

Is that why he likes it so much?

She supposed there could have been any number of reasons.

Lady Ann could dissect Russell's odd, brittle psyche forever, but often found herself disinclined. Theirs was a casual affair of the heart; more like a pair of friends who occasionally met for drinks and conversation followed by chess or lawn games than a standard romance, and that suited them both just fine.

A least, I know it suits me.

She knew, on some level, that Russell wanted more.

Perhaps not the full love-and-marriage package, but more. More nights with her breathing next to him in bed, more mornings where he didn't have to wake up alone, more reassurance.

More, in a word, feelings.

I think that's what they really mean, when they say men only want one thing.

If she thought about it too long, she also thought about her departed husband; a tender, romantic man who died senselessly in a caving accident. The similarities between him and Russell were relatively few, but they still weren't lost on her. The reticence overlaying a disquieting lack of caution, the sensitive, heat-seeking bodies.

The way they made me want to do things to them.

And then came another thought, which made Lady Ann sigh as she entered the warmth of the Inn and took her place at the front desk.

I think I'm done with men.

It was a thought she'd had before; most frequently after she'd been widowed in such a pointless, tragic fashion. And she assumed it was the truth back then, until Sabrina—bawdy and potted as usual—had to go and gossip about Russell, and all the interesting things he'd let her do.

Lady Ann—who had also done her part to drain the bottle of wine they'd been sharing—found herself oddly intrigued.

"...Do you think I could borrow him from you for a night?"

"I don't see why not!"

Lady Ann had meant this as a joke, but when she realized that Sabrina's reply was completely serious, she decided that she might as well be, too.

It took a few weeks to get Russell into bed, and a few more to tease out the extent of his proclivities. But once she had, she couldn't believe what she'd managed to find.

Apparently, the quiet, drab-looking man who employed her daughter was a wanton daredevil between the sheets.

For the first time in her life, Lady Ann found it deliciously difficult to keep up with this enthusiastic new lover. Russell would let her do things to him that she had previously only savored in fantasies; his delicate skin able to absorb surprising amounts of pain, which he took into himself with an almost unsettling zeal.

He was everything I'd always wanted.

Of course, few things were ever quite so simple.

For one thing, though he worked hard to keep the extent of his damage to himself, it eventually became apparent that Russell was a bit emotionally unstable.

And then there was the matter of that tender, withered scar; the skin stretched over the arched junction of his ribcage so thin that it seemed to give unwanted access to something inside him, something perpetually sore.

Needless to say, these contradictions had led them into some peculiar situations.

She could flog him all night, but an accidental brush across the chest could elicit a different kind of shudder entirely. They could talk and laugh for hours, but one drink too many might make him start crying. Too often, she found herself scrambling to pick up pieces of Russell that she hadn't even wanted to see, let alone touch.

Lady Ann hated to use the phrase "damaged goods," mostly because she knew it could just as easily be applied to one such as herself, but she could find no other words to describe him. Russell had been treated, for years, with inhuman roughness. And it had damaged him terribly.

But, in those golden early days, she figured his damage didn't really matter. Or if it did, it did so only in that Russell needed to be handled with a bit of finesse, like all fine things. And truly, she had taken as much pride in her ability to do so as she did in the countless marks she had left on his skin.

And now...

...Now, well, she was tired of finesse.

And perhaps, once more, tired of men.

But are women all that much different?

Lady Ann didn't have the experience to say. Sabrina had propositioned her a few times, but—fearing the inexperience in question—she'd always declined.

So, she supposed she had lost her chance to ever find out. Sabrina was married; clinging to monogamy for dear life against the gale-force winds of her enormous, hungry, wonderful heart.

No, I suppose we aren't.

~*~

You dressed different back then.

I remember that mismatched garb well; the trousers from your old uniform, a cotton tunic that you buttoned all the way to the throat, a blue wool cloak that you clutched protectively around yourself in all seasons.

And you looked different, too.

Your hair fell nearly to your shoulders, and had a way of hiding your face. It surprised me when I learned you'd wandered into town after a lengthy tour of duty; not because you were so quiet and bookish, but because you seemed so frail. You didn't square with my image of a soldier.

But then I got to know you, and it all made sense.

The trials of war hadn't built you up. They had only worn you out, leaving you as thin and threadbare as that old third-hand cloak of yours.

Well, worn-out or not, I knew I liked you very much from the very first time we met.

You said your name was Russell, and I thought of dead leaves and dog-eared pages.

I thought it sounded like you.

When I first arrived in this town, I found myself all alone, save for my son. And I found you all alone, save for your daughter. I loved the sea, you loved your books. And, before we even realized it ourselves, we came to love one another.

Our children would grow up together.

So, in a way, would we.

You probably guessed that it doesn't usually take me so long to act on my feelings. But, with you, I found myself strangely hesitant. You were so emotionally and physically tremulous, and I felt like it would be all too easy to hurt you; so easy that I might not even notice it happening.

By then, I knew enough about you to know that the last thing you needed was more hurt.

So I'm thankful, to this day, that we both like to drink.

It was something we did often; put our kids down for an afternoon nap, walk together to the Pub, then wander back to the Shack in a blissful haze and maybe catch a quick nap ourselves. It was a much-needed reprieve from the stresses of new parenthood that we both seemed to appreciate greatly.

And, honestly, I loved those afternoons because back in those days, they were the only times I ever saw you pink-cheeked and smiling.

Then, one day, we decided to go out in the evening, and everything changed.

Looking back, I can't say what it was. Perhaps it was one more glass of wine than usual. Or, perhaps, it was the sheer size and brightness of that dazzling moon, pulling the tides of our twin seas into one.

All I know is that something compelled me to take your hand in mine; not with the playful roughness I had so often in the past, but with a new, lingering tenderness.

And I said, "Your hands are so cold."

And you said, "They are. But I think that one's warming up."

Gods, how I wanted to warm you up. I didn't care anymore that you were fragile, or that my heart didn't always know its own strength. All I wanted in that moment was to pull your body into mine.

So that was exactly what I did.

And, before I knew it, my mouth was pressed against yours.

At first, you seemed a bit stunned, and when your back began to stiffen up, I was prepared to pull away. But then your spine seemed to melt under my hands, and I felt the shy tip of your tongue beginning to part my lips.

I'm not sure how we decided to crawl under the pier that night, but we couldn't get there fast enough; couldn't undress fast enough, either. You spread out your cloak in the sand and lay there gazing at me. So patient, so eager.

When I first saw you in your totality, lit by the slivers of bluish moonlight that shone through the worn slats of the pier, your scarred ribs and sunken belly made me so sad that I almost changed my mind.

Then all of that was blown away by one look at your face.

Still, I took care as I climbed on top of you, straddling those rawboned hips and entwining my fingers with yours.

I said, "Seems like your hands aren't cold anymore."

And you didn't say anything at all.

You just smiled up at me like you thought I'd hung that dazzling moon with my own two hands, but couldn't quite believe I'd accomplished such a grand feat.

When it was all over, I lay there with you in the dark, listening to the wild surf.

My first thought was that holding you felt like carrying a bundle of driftwood.

My second thought was that I never, ever wanted to let you go.

(I haven't, have I?)

~*~

As Sabrina washed the dishes clean of the stew she'd prepared for dinner, she found her mind repeatedly wandering back to the afternoon's tea.

"...A little spaced out, maybe a little down..."

"I guess he seems off..."

"...Didn't you say that was normal for him?"

She supposed those vague statements shouldn't have surprised her. The intimacy between Russell and Lady Ann was primarily relegated to the physical; they were buddies and playmates more than anything else, and Russell wasn't exactly quick to trust when it came to the internal conditions of his body and mind.

At least, not when he's sober.

Or unless something is going horribly, horribly wrong.

Sabrina knew he trusted her; indeed, that she might be the only one he truly trusted at all. And, the last time they'd spoken, it was an understatement to say that he hadn't been sober.

But is something going horribly wrong?

Frustratingly, she couldn't say for sure.

Russell had certainly seemed a bit unstable, and there was reason to worry that he might be ill. But then again, he was drunk, and had never been one to thrive in the cold. Perhaps she'd seen nothing more than a particularly bad night?

No, that doesn't make sense.

Sabrina knew full well that, in the driftwood-smooth ribs and shoulder blades quivering beneath his worn flannel pajamas, she had felt a long string of bad nights. At least a month's worth; poorly-concealed behind his usual air of cheery, impassive detachment.

Oh, Russell. You're not doing so good, are you?

Briefly, she hated herself for not being able to know.

Though, it wasn't for lack of trying. As promised, she had tried to check in on him the previous afternoon. But Tori had said he was sleeping, and Sabrina supposed that was fair enough, having lingered in bed until late morning to sleep off a mild headache of her own. So she came back just before dinnertime, but this time Tori told her he was out.

Probably, she assumed, with Lady Ann; making some sort of strange attempt at finishing what they hadn't quite started.

What would you have done if he'd gone to you instead?

Sabrina's hands froze around a freshly-dried plate, where she studied her faded reflection in the glossy porcelain.

I think we all know.

Deep down, Sabrina knew she was naturally disloyal.

Are you really?

It depended, she supposed, on who you asked.

She had friendly hands and wandering eyes that made her seem, upon first appraisal, a somewhat disloyal spouse.

The problem was, saving all that love for one person felt disloyal to everyone else.

Another problem was, as much as she loved Neumann, she loved Russell equally well, and with all her heart.

And now she had, she felt, all but abandoned him; left him at the mercy of the cruel winter and his own terrible pain. All because she'd feared squandering her second chance, and because of an agreement made years ago, before she was really sure how she felt.

"He may win me back yet, you know. And I'll probably take him if he does."

"I understand. That's probably what I would do."

Of course Russell understood. At the time, he'd spent the majority of his adult life being treated as something interchangeable, an unfeeling warm body to be moved around and used up and thrown away.

And, in the end, Sabrina supposed she'd only reinforced that.

(Took advantage of it, more like.)

I'm just trying to love everyone as best I can.

Sometimes, it felt like there was no trying hard enough.

And other times, it felt like she was the only one who was actually trying at all.

Even Neumann, for all his jealous insecurity, had faltered. All that fretting over those days when he'd caught her giving a shoulder rub to one of her fishing buddies, just for her to catch him drinking from one of her family heirlooms with a total stranger.

Suddenly, the whole mess seemed incredibly silly, so Sabrina turned her disloyal back and ran; skirting up and down the coast for the better part of two months, chasing fish and lovers without a care in the world.

Until, one foggy morning, she found herself violently ill; huddling around the commode in her tiny rental cottage, knowing in her bones that everything was about to change forever.

Knowing, she supposed, that the arc of this new life would one day lead her back into her once-upon-a-time husband's arms.

I knew. The timing didn't quite line up for anyone else.

(...Well, maybe one person. But I seriously doubt Nicky could have been hers.)

And, in the end, that's what it came down to: together, Sabrina and Neumann had begun work on a person, and it seemed only right to finish the job together, disloyal as they both had been.

Besides, we're even now.

Getting even, of course, hadn't been why she'd done what she did, though it was a comforting thought whenever she remembered the incident with the chalice just a little too bitterly.

No, she'd done it because she and Russell hadn't had a last time. At least, not a proper one, where they knew it would be the last. Simple as that.

Considering the circumstances, it was an uncomplicated affair, but Sabrina remembered it with an almost aching fondness.

It was golden.

(...We were. We were golden.)

The sweet, cozy dimness of the bedroom above the Library enveloping them protectively, shielding their bare, tender bodies from the judgemental afternoon light. Russell at his healthy springtime best; slim and reedy as always, but with a hint of solid muscle at the shoulders, the slightest lamina of temptingly soft flesh around his middle, a youthful fullness to his cheeks.

They fell into each other as easily as they always had, almost drunk on a bittersweet sort of joy.

And then, it was over. For good this time.

And now...

...And now, Russell was gods only knew where; in obvious pain, possibly sick, knees still bleeding, nothing solid or soft left to protect him.

You think you're not disloyal? Then prove it.

Sabrina slid the last of the dishes into the cabinet, then called out towards the sitting area, where her husband and son were making up some silly game as they went along.

"...Hey! I'm all done here, so I think I'm going to take a little walk."

Neumann mumbled something to Nicholas, then raised his voice in reply.

"Have fun! We're gonna hit the hay in a little bit, right Nicky?"

Gods, these silly early risers of mine.

Sabrina smiled at them fondly, threw on her coat, then vanished into the snowy night, on her way to the Library.

When she arrived, it was Tori who answered the door.

"Hey, Tori... Is Russell in?"

The shy young woman shook her head, looking deeply worried.

"I-I don't know where he is... I c-came back with Cecilia, and he wasn't here, s-so..."

Sabrina felt her mouth go dry.

"...So you really don't know?"

Tori shook her head again. Sabrina, absurdly, felt herself nod.

"Right... Well, I'm going to go ask Emmett now. Thanks, Tori."

Thanks for nothing.

At the Pub, the response was less stuttered, but even more ominous. Emmett offered her a free drink, and said something cryptic and evasive about having seen Russell early in the evening. When pressed, he simply stated that he didn't trade in gossip, and would say no more.

Okay, so he's almost definitely with Lady Ann. This'll be a little awkward, but we'll all have a good laugh.

Except, the Lady of the Inn was stationed behind her desk, fully clothed and wrapping up work for the night. And she hadn't seen Russell, either.

Where else? The Church?

No, she'd never known Russell to be particularly religious. And anyway, the Church was closed.

The Bathhouse?

Sabrina found no one there but Melody, who immediately began trying to sell her ridiculous teas and soaps. It was all she could do not to bite the poor girl's head off.

Maybe he finally went to the Clinic. Maybe Ed had to keep him there.

As it turned out, Edward had seen him, but it was while visiting the Library, and that was several hours ago by now.

Okay, now where?

But there was, she realized, nowhere else. Unsure of what to do next, Sabrina stood for a while in the middle of the street, snow gathering on her shoulders and in her dark hair.

Something has gone horribly wrong.

~*~

How did this go so horribly wrong?

Lynette sat alone in her dark cabin; half-dressed at the foot of the bed, the last few hours feeling disjointed and surreal.

A moment, Russell smiling pleasantly at her from the other side of the Library. Another, the two of them drinking together, her falling fast for his strange, subtle charms. Another, and he was half-delirious and bleeding from the mouth in her bedroom.

What had he taken? Had he been out of his mind with fever the entire time? How did she fail to notice until he was half-naked in her house?

Remember, you were told to stay away from him.

Not long after Lynette had defected and settled in Kardia, the stern innkeeper had noticed that—if only from afar—she had taken something of a liking to Russell. It was nothing serious, no deep yearnings. She simply thought he had a pleasant face, and found his quiet bearing relaxing, so she enjoyed watching him sometimes.

Even so, the innkeeper issued a warning: Russell had spent quite a bit of harrowing time as a Norad soldier, and probably wasn't interested in friendship—let alone anything else—with the likes of her.

Lynette replied that she wasn't expecting him to want anything, and that she didn't even want anything herself.

And, until tonight, she'd presumed that was the honest truth.

What I should have said was, "I think it's you that sees me as the enemy."

She'd seen them together, and it didn't take a strategist to figure out what was going on.

In the end, the ominous warning only served to intensify that casual interest.

For one thing, she was a soldier, and wasn't about to let some territorial harpy push her around.

For another, she hadn't assumed that she and Russell would have anything in common, and was interested to learn that they did.

But, I guess we were a bad match after all.

Lynette thought about this for a minute. Whether they were or they weren't, that didn't seem to have anything to do with what had just transpired.

In fact, the most troubling thing was that it didn't seem to have much to do with anything at all. Russell entered her home of his own free will; broke down mentally, physically, completely. Then he left just as quickly as he'd arrived.

Was that the point? And if so, did he even know?

Sighing to herself, Lynette stood, turned on the lamp and resumed her place at the foot of the bed, staring at the floor. Some flimsy, unfamiliar garment was crumpled there; abandoned next to a few drops of glistening, darkening blood.

When she realized what she'd done, Lynette's own blood chilled.

I should never have sent him out there by himself. What made me do such a thing?

It didn't take long for her to realize why.

This was simply how she'd been taught to treat people. And it was how she, herself, had been treated. The last time she'd ever seen one of her former superiors, she was flatly commanded to die, and had been fully prepared to go through with it until the young farmer intervened.

I guess I still have a lot to learn from this place.

(Or, you're really irredeemable after all.)

No. He can't have gone far. I can still change this.

Without bothering to dress, Lynette leapt from the bed, and hurried, dishabille, for the front door; cracking it open with an unexpected tentativeness.

"...Russell?"

Stepping out onto the porch, her bare feet stinging in the snow, she scanned the white blur of the landscape around her, but couldn't find him anywhere. There were a few indentations that might have been footprints, but they were rapidly filling up with snow. In mere minutes, tracking him would be all but impossible.

Don't tell me you failed another mission.

As the biting wind goose-pimpled her naked, delicate skin, Lynette wished she had never been convinced not to raise that cruel blade to her chest.

~*~

Sharron didn't see things before they happened. Not precisely.

But she often found that she knew things.

Usually in odd or vague ways, but sufficient to guide her with a strange certainty; if she only paid close attention, if she was wise enough to heed herself.

On this night, for example, she knew to let her explorations in the ruins run long, and to not return to the Inn come nightfall. When she stepped out for a bit of brisk air and found the snow nearly blinding, Sharron figured she knew why.

I understand. Thank you.

She would sleep tonight on a soft patch of moss, in the ruins' springlike warmth; waiting out the storm in those mysterious corridors that felt, to her, more like home than any inn.

But, when bedtime finally arrived, it brought with it another knowing, leaving the wise oracle uncharacteristically stunned.

I have to leave, don't I?

(I have to head for town.)

At first, Sharron was hesitant. She had never known her intuitions to so rapidly contradict themselves.

But, then again, she had never known her intuitions to so rapidly contradict themselves.

Whatever she was feeling, it must have been urgent. So she took a quiet moment to center her mind, then left her blessed stone fortress to brave the storm outside.

In honesty, she had never much minded the cold. In fact, she almost seemed born to it, nearly blending in with the ethereal silver-white of the scenery. As she walked briskly along the path through the forest, her long skirts trailed in the snow, growing damp and diaphanous as the ice sheathing the branches overhead.

Slow down now.

Again, she wondered what her intuition was trying to tell her.

Was this not an urgent matter?

On the other hand, she was quite close to town, so perhaps it was simply time to greet her mysterious purpose.

What is this? Perhaps a meeting at the crossroads?

Cautiously, she pressed on, keeping her eyes open for signs, for portents, for strangers.

And, when she saw the dark shape at the bottom of the roadside gully, she knew.

At first, she didn't know who it was; or indeed, even whether it was a "who," or merely a "what." But she knew that this—whatever it was—was that to which her arcane mind had led her. She gathered her skirts, and descended the shallow slope.

Oh no... Is he alive...?

Now that she knelt beside the prone, snow-dusted form, she realized that it was indeed a "who." Moreover, it was no stranger. They hadn't spoken often—for Sharron rarely spoke to anyone but Melody—but she knew this face well. They had passed many times, in the dim hallways of the Inn.

The innkeeper's lover.

(That's none of your business.)

She knew his name was Russell, and she knew that he ran the Library in town. But she did not know, with any certainty, whether he was alive or dead. He was awfully pale and still, and there was dried blood caked around his nose and mouth, as though he had smashed his face on the way down.

Poor thing... Let's see...

Upon centering herself once more, Sharron felt the flame of his life; so dim that it was nearly drowned out by her own, and those of the scores of dormant trees around them. Then she watched as his back arched in a rattling, laborious breath, and a weak puff of white escaped his slightly parted lips.

Thank goodness... He won't last long out here, though.

Sharron knew, in the more pedestrian sense of knowing, that she had to get him to the Clinic. What she didn't know was how. Russell wasn't large or heavy, but the years spent honing her mind had left her body somewhat wispy and frail. She'd never be able to lift him.

But who could?

(The Clinic!)

Suddenly, her mind was flooded with images of a sturdy young man, who spent most of his days hoisting great bales of hay for a stable of grateful Monsters.

Camus! He lives above the Clinic! He's the doctor's son!

Turning towards Russell again, Sharron almost whispered "wait here," but this struck her as absurd, so she said nothing, briefly pressing one hand to his frigid face. Then she scurried up out of the ditch, gathered her skirts once more, and ran the rest of the way to town.

All the while trying, with all her considerable psychic might, to hold that dim flame in her mind.

~*~

Edward still wasn't entirely sure what, exactly, was going on.

Not ten minutes ago, he and his son had been woken by a ferocious banging at the front door, then an unfamiliar, somewhat feral feminine voice shrieking Camus's name into the night.

It was Sharron—the strange scholar of the ruins—and something was wrong.

Someone was hurt, but that was all he could gather. He wasn't sure who or how, because Camus had taken off after her into what had, in the hour they'd been sleeping, developed into a light blizzard.

Which left Edward standing alone in the Clinic's waiting room, trying to figure out what the hell could be happening at this hour.

If Ann's halfwit son was out caving, in the middle of the night, in the middle of a snowstorm, I swear...

Edward felt himself growing irritated, but he didn't have time to get truly worked up. For Camus soon returned, and the limp form he carried didn't belong to Zavier.

It was Russell.

And, at first, Edward was almost certain that he was dead.

Fortunately, a rather breathless Camus set the record straight.

"I don't know what... He's breathing, though... What should I...?"

Edward rushed into the exam room, snapped up a clattering assortment of tools, and returned to the waiting room, the sheer panic leaving him feeling a bit out of breath himself.

"Just lay him out flat on the floor!"

Camus did as he was told.

"...Okay! What now!?"

Edward winced as he heard himself snapping at his frightened son.

"...Now you go to bed and let me work!"

The strapping young man seemed to shrink a bit, then vanished upstairs; where both he and his father knew full well that he wouldn't sleep a wink.

That was no concern of Edward's. The important thing was making sure he wouldn't be distracted as he attempted to put his closest friend back together.

But first, he had to work out exactly how Russell had fallen apart.

Blood from the nose and mouth, and he's not responsive. Check his pupils.

Upon inspection, they appeared mostly normal. However, Edward did note that they seemed slightly constricted.

Please don't tell me you...

Edward felt himself growing frustrated again, but it flared out quickly, fading to a dull, flat despair.

...I'm sorry. I knew something wasn't right. I should have pushed you to come see me when I dropped off the book.

The despair and guilt soon faded as well; to a quiet, resolute determination.

Well, I have you here now, and I'll fix you up. I promise.

For the first time since he'd escaped it, Edward found himself longing for the city. For the hospitals there, filled with strange, shining devices; for the slender lines that could deliver air directly into the lungs, fluids and medicines directly into the veins.

Here, in this small country clinic, he had no such magics.

All he had were his own two hands.

And, in that moment, they were looking terribly inadequate.

They'll have to be enough.

The first step, he figured, was to get Russell dry and warm. And, to accomplish this, Edward would have to remove his layers of cold, wet clothing.

This is a cruel joke, isn't it?

Edward had, of course, imagined undressing Russell before.

It was something he found himself doing whenever a particularly charming man entered his life. His was an active, inquisitive mind, and he had always found a bit of fantasy to be the very thing when he was feeling particularly lonesome, or just in need of a few quick thrills. He was aware that it could make things feel awkward down the line, but he never let that bother him too much.

The doctor was, after all, excellent at compartmentalizing.

He had simply cut Russell into three, and gotten on with things.

Well, it looks like there's only one of him now, and this is the one you get.

(I don't want this.)

He diligently undid Russell's various findings, and found the task so sad and repellant that he nearly wept. This was nothing like all those warm, sentimental mid-afternoon fantasies.

In fact, it had more in common with the cadaver dissections Edward had participated in during medical school. Russell's skin was freezing cold; drained paper-white save for a bluish cast to the lips. His slight muscles offered no resistance. Only the occasional shaky breath broke the illusion.

It's okay. You're not dead. I'm not going to cut you open. Don't be scared.

He did, however, have to cut Russell out of his undershirts, and the sensation was unpleasantly familiar. Except instead of the sick grey of pickled viscera, Edward's surgical shears had only revealed more pallid, bruised skin, stretched over a heartbreakingly corrugated sternum.

Cautiously, he ran his knuckles along those delicate bones, applying some mild pressure. This made Russell's breath hitch a bit, but failed to rouse him. Then—hating himself for what he was about to do—Edward slid his hand downward, onto the withered skin over the solar plexus.

That, too, was not quite enough to wake him. But it had, as Edward thought it might, induced a stronger response. Russell flinched and exhaled with an unhealthy sputter, spraying them both with fine droplets of blood.

Edward—having lost all sense of medical protocol—scooped Russell's cold, limp body off the floor; holding him close, whispering "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," with no thought as to whether his friend could hear him.

All he knew was that he needed to gather Russell in his arms.

Every last bit of him.

That ingenious, knowledge-hungry, broken brain. His gentle heart, his hard-working liver, his blood-drenched lungs. The strange, lopsided tattoo that Edward hadn't even known about until now, and the stained plasters on his knees. The slack joints, which gave his body the impression of something falling to pieces.

I need to put him back together.

Edward fought back tears.

"I'm sorry I hurt you... I just needed to know you were in there."

Russell, of course, gave no reply. But Edward knew from the painful, one-sided quality of his breathing that he would soon need to hurt him even worse. And he wasn't sure if he could bear to.

Of course you can. You'll do whatever it takes to get him well.

Whatever it takes?

Whatever it takes.

Gently, Edward laid Russell back down on the floor, resuming the examination.

By the time he was finished, dawn was beginning to break, and Lara was arriving to start her shift.

When she saw the scene before her, she nearly froze solid in alarm.

Calmly, Edward looked up to meet her wide, terrified eyes.

"Help me get him cleaned up."

#rune factory #rune factory 1 #rf1 #rf1 russell

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