#i love seeing my idle creativity come together to make stuff like that

[quickspinner]

Plausible Deniability

Written for the LBSC sprint fic challenge. If you’d like to join in follow @lovebugs-and-snakecharmers for more information!

Challenge rules:

Pick a prompt and write for that prompt in up to three 15 minute sprints. No writing outside the sprints until you have completed all three! After the 3 sprints are complete, you have 24 hours to edit (which can include some new writing to smooth transitions, etc). After those 24 hours, post what you’ve got! More information on the challenge here!

Prompt: “I love you.” “Tell me that when you’re sober.”

Soooooo technically this is a fail as far as the challenge is concerned, because I only got the bare bones of it down during the allotted sprints and then I nearly doubled the length in “editing.” But, a failed challenge still means a completed fic, so yay for that. 

“She’s trouble in a tank top pretty little time bomb, blowing up, take you down,” Luka sang loudly, causing heads to turn towards them on the street. Marinette hushed him, and he obligingly dropped to a hum. 

Marinette gritted her teeth, adjusted Luka’s arm over her shoulders, and reminded herself that she had signed up for this. Had, in fact, assured Luka over and over that she didn’t mind and that he deserved to relax and celebrate, and just drink your shots, already, Luka I’ll make sure you get home safe. All of Luka’s friends were ecstatic for him and everyone wanted to buy him a drink, so Marinette had stood her self-appointed duty, making sure he had enough water and pacing things out so that when he staggered out of the bar at the end of the night, leaning heavily on her, he was still moving mostly under his own power, though he was certainly feeling no pain. 

Drunk Luka was chatty, though, and all the thoughts that normally stayed in his head seemed to just pour out of his mouth at random (along with, apparently, every song he’d ever heard or written).

“Snakebite heart, and a bubblegum smile,” he sang, fortunately at a more reasonable volume this time. 

“You’re so ridiculous,” Marinette grumbled, but there was fondness in it. 

“You’re the best,” he giggled. “I love you.” 

Marinette rolled her eyes. “Tell me that when you’re sober.”

“I did,” Luka snorted, and then laughed his drunk laugh again. “You avoided me for weeks.”

Marinette winced and bit her lip. She hadn’t been thinking about it when she said it. It was a reflexive response at this point, something she said to all her babbling drunk friends when she saw them home at the end of the night (Nino in particular was an ‘I love you, man!’ kind of drunk). She was used to this role, though it was the first time she’d done it for Luka. It hadn’t occurred to her until just then that her usual quip might hit a little differently with him. 

“Ma’nette.” Luka leaned on her more heavily and nuzzled at her temple—sort of. Really he more just bonked their heads together. “S’okay. Don’t get all moody. S’funny.” 

“It’s not funny,” Marinette sighed. 

“Everything’s funny,” Luka grinned, and then started laughing again. Marinette just shook her head, and settled his arm a little more comfortably over her shoulders. “Sides. I’m drunk. I can say whatever I want and we can just laugh it off in the morning. You don't even have to run away this time.” He leaned his head on hers, which tilted the rest of his body towards her, and she staggered slightly under his weight. “You’re so beautiful. Just...all the time. Fuckin’ gorgeous, you know that?”

Marinette blushed hotly. “You’re drunk,” she muttered. 

“Yep,” he grinned, and then added, “Drunk but not a liar.” He kissed the top of her head before straightening. Sort of. He took some of his weight off her, at least.

Luka sighed dreamily. “S’been years since then, right? An’ the first time was years before that.” He laughed. “God, I was such a dramatic little shit. Clear as a music note, sincere as a melody. You must have thought I was so stupid.”

“I thought it was beautiful,” Marinette replied quietly. 

Luka’s arm tightened around her shoulder, pulling her against his side in a hug. “Aw, you’re so sweet. You’ve always been great that way. You get me, even when I’m dumb.” 

“Yeah,” Marinette smiled, bumping him with her hip. “But come on, Luka, you got over all that a long time ago.”

Luka started to laugh so hard he nearly toppled over, and Marinette had to plant her feet and put all her weight into keeping him upright. When she did get him back onto his feet he was wiping away tears. 

“I am drunk as hell,” he chuckled, pulling his arm away.

“You really are,” Marinette agreed with a sigh.

He faced her, one hand curling behind her head. Marinette started slightly, out of surprise rather than fear, as he leaned toward her, his eyes unnaturally bright and liquor heavy on his breath. “I’m so drunk can tell you that I never got over you. That I’m still stupid in love with you and nobody ever makes me feel the way you do. You’re one in a million, Marinette. There’ll never be another girl as fascinating and brilliant and creative as you. I knew you were special from the second we met.” He grinned, one thumb gliding over her lower lip a little more roughly than he probably meant to. “And your lips make me think like a pervert. Also your ass is really cute.” He doubled over, giggling, his hands falling away from her as he started walking again. “You ever think about my ass?” he asked, rhetorically it seemed as without waiting for a reply, he tipped his head back and looked up at the sky. “Ugh, fuckin’ city lights. I miss the stars on the boat.” He started singing again, but casually, as if to himself, instead of belting it to the sky. “She’s outta control, so beautiful. I’ve been waiting so long, but she’ll never know…”

Marinette suddenly felt like she was reeling as much as Luka. She felt hot and cold all at once. She’d had no—

Well. That wasn’t true. She had had an idea that he still felt that way, but she didn’t trust her own judgement, not after years and years of reading into things and making mountains out of molehills, and their friendship was so perfect, so precious, she hadn’t wanted to make things weird. But all this time...oh, Luka...

Luka’s lopsided path was taking him a little close to the street, so Marinette jogged a bit to catch up with his long legs, and slipped back under his arm. 

“There you are,” he sighed happily, leaning on her again. “I’m so glad you came back.” 

“Don’t I always?” she said, a little breathless from the revelation.

“Eventually,” he agreed. “Thank fuck for that. Don’t know what I’d do if I scared you off for good.” 

Marinette sighed, and put her arm around his waist. “Come on. Let’s just get you home.”

If she was quiet on the metro, he didn’t seem to notice, filling the silence with idle chatter and random drunken observations that earned them some amused glances from their fellow subway patrons. Marinette didn’t really pay attention, except to push him away when he buried his nose in the crook of her neck and murmured about how good she smelled. Not that she minded, exactly, but she was still processing his drunken declarations and it was hard to think properly with her really attractive friend-and-maybe-more snuggling up on her. Luka had always craved touch (although not usually like that) and it didn’t really rattle her anymore, she just...really needed to think, and it was hard to do that when she was really kind of feeling like— 

“Our stop,” Luka muttered, and it embarrassed her that he was the one to notice. The fact that she was more distracted than he was drunk should have been disturbing. Luka sighed as she helped him get up, and leaned on her a little more heavily. “Sorry,” he muttered. “Tired.”

“I bet,” Marinette said, squeezing his waist lightly. “We’re almost there.” His chatter subsided into slightly off-key humming on the way up to his apartment, and she could see that now that the hilarity was fading, Luka was struggling to stay awake. He couldn’t even manage to stick on one song, humming in increasingly broken snippets. 

“All right,” she said, when they finally made it into his apartment. “Bed for you.”

“Bed sounds nice,” Luka agreed, as Marinette opened the door to his bedroom.

“I think you can make it from here,” Marinette said, slipping out from under his arm.

“Thanks, Nette,” he said, smiling down at her, and as she looked up at him her heartbeat quickened. She felt the flush in her cheeks, and looked away quickly, unconsciously licking her lips, before her eyes darted back to his again. 

Unfortunately for her, even drunk off his ass, he could read her like a book. 

“Are you gonna kiss me, Marinette?” Luka asked, leaning over her with one elbow on the doorway. “Cause I’m not opposed but like, I had plans for your birthday and they’ll be ruined if you’re avoiding me, so if you do you gotta cap your running away at three...no...wait, how many weeks?” He blinked, looking confused. “What day is it?”

Marinette swallowed hard, flooded with shame, her eyes stinging. Luka’s gaze snapped back to her, losing some of that vague expression. 

“Aw, Mari, don’t cry,” he sighed, his hands coming up to cup her cheeks. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you cry. ‘M so sorry. I’m such an idiot, you were never supposed to cry because of me.” He sighed, letting his forehead fall to rest against hers. “Sober me is gonna kick my own ass tomorrow for making you cry.” 

Marinette closed her eyes and took a shaky breath. She’d never wanted to kiss him so badly, but it would be wrong while he was like this, and he’d trusted her to get him home safely. Luka would never take advantage of her this way and she wouldn’t do it to him, either. 

Instead she leaned up and wrapped her arms around his neck. Luka relaxed into the hug, folding his arms around her and squeezing so tight it made her gasp. He moved to bury his face in her shoulder. “Love you,” he sighed. 

“Luka,” she whispered, and he grunted. “Tell me all that when you’re sober, okay? All the stuff you said to me tonight. Tell me again when you’re sober. Tomorrow, okay?” He grunted again, though she really wasn’t sure if he was hearing her.

She gently pushed him back, and then took his face in her hands, and kissed his forehead tenderly. “Now go to bed. I’ll be on the couch if you need anything.” 

She knew he was already half asleep, because he didn’t protest her sleeping on the couch. He let her nudge him around, and took the three steps to his bed, and collapsed onto it. 

Marinette sighed, and followed him for just a moment to pull his shoes off and cover him with a blanket. He was snoring before she even closed his door. 

***

You know just what to say Shit that scares me

He noticed the music first, before he was even fully awake. 

I should just walk away but I can’t move my feet The more that I know you the more that I want to 

He knew that song. 

He knew a lot of songs, really, but more importantly, he knew that voice. 

Something inside me’s changed I was so much younger yesterday

The piping voice fell into place right about when he woke up enough to remember the night before. Luka groaned and pulled his covers over his head, wishing he could just curl up and die. He really did want to go back in time and kick drunk Luka’s ass. What had he been thinking, getting that drunk and letting Marinette bring him home alone?

He was thinking that she’d put him in a taxi and send him off, naturally. Because he’d already been a couple drinks in, which was why he’d been hesitating over having more to begin with, and when Marinette had told him to enjoy himself and she’d make sure he got home safe, his logic brain had ceded control to his wishful thinking brain, or something. Because he’d just sold three songs to one of the biggest artists in the country and his name was going to be on the album sleeve and the check had been more money than he’d ever seen in his life and when everyone told him he deserved to celebrate, he kinda wanted to believe them. In his right mind he would have known that Marinette would never just shove him into a cab. Dumbass, he chided himself. 

Even beneath the blanket, he could smell food, his stomach equal parts queasy and interested, and Luka knew he couldn’t hide here forever. He had to man up and face the music. Literally, apparently. 

Luka sat up slowly, pushing his blanket off, and then opted for honorable procrastination in the form of dragging himself into his bathroom to shower and brush his teeth. If he was going to have to grovel and find a way to pretend he hadn’t meant all those things his dumb drunk ass said last night, he at least wanted the small dignity of smelling decent. He owed Marinette big time after this. It was probably thanks to her pushing water and food on him all night that he didn’t feel worse than he did. He paused on the way to swallow the pills and down the glass of water Marinette had left on his nightstand. It didn’t help his stomach but his head didn’t hurt as much by the time he was out of the shower. 

Luka debated putting on real clothes but opted for sweatpants and an ancient t-shirt. It wasn’t like Marinette hadn’t seen him looking worse. 

Finally he took a deep breath and made his way out to the living room. He could see Marinette in his little kitchen, the counter piled with food and ingredients. Luka winced; she must have gotten up earlier and gone shopping. There was no way he had this much, or this kind, of food on hand. 

Her phone was on the counter, the music—his music—blaring through the bluetooth speakers he’d long ago given her access to.  

“I didn’t know that I was starving till I tasted you,” she sang, bobbing slightly as she transferred food to the plates she had ready. “Don’t need no butterflies when you give me the whole damn zoo…” 

Luka couldn’t help a smile. He’d covered and recorded the song for her birthday, teasingly telling her he that couldn’t stand to listen to the original anymore, but that was a lie. Luka had wide-ranging music taste and could appreciate even things he wouldn’t necessarily seek out on his own. Mostly, he just wanted to sing it for her. He’d recognized her singing it when he woke up; either she had it on repeat or her playlist had cycled in the time it took him to get cleaned up.

“By the way, by the way, you do things to my boooodEEEEK!” Marinette gasped and dropped the plate she was holding. Luka watched calmly as the shatter-resistant dish (that he’d bought on purpose because a surprising number of people he loved had a tendency to break things) cracked into several large shards. “Damn it, Luka,” she sighed, looking at the mess. “You startled me.” 

“Sorry. I’ll get it,” he said quickly, moving to pick up the pieces. His head reeled when he bent over though, sending him to his knees, and Marinette shoved him back as she crouched down instead. 

“No, I got it,” she murmured, not looking him in the eye, and Luka bit the inside of his cheek, feeling a flush of shame. He pulled his hands back and leaned back, intending to sit on his heels but falling back on his ass instead. Folding his legs under him like he meant to do that, he raked both hands through his hair and sighed. 

“I’m so sorry,” he muttered, as Marinette cleaned up the mess. “About last night. So, so sorry, Marinette, I was petty, and mean, and I said a bunch of really unnecessary things, and I swear I don’t—”

“Stop,” Marinette ordered, dumping the broken plate in the trash, along with the remains of the omelet that had been on it. Luka winced and shut his mouth and his eyes, rubbing his forehead with one hand.

Small, warm hands pushed his away and slender but strong fingers began massaging his temples and forehead. He leaned into her touch with a little moan. 

“How do you feel?” Marinette asked gently. 

Luka gave a lopsided smile, eyes still closed. “Like I don’t deserve this. It sure feels good though.” 

Marinette sighed, her breath wafting over his face. “Can you eat?” 

“A Marinette hangover special?” Luka’s grin widened. “Definitely. If there’s any left.” 

“There is,” Marinette told him, amusement in her voice. “I always make plenty. Sorry about the dish though.” Her fingers slid down to gently cup his face. Luka opened his eyes, to find he was looking into hers. Her beautiful, stunning eyes that still took his breath even after all these years. They looked red-rimmed and tired, though, and a stab of guilt went through him. 

Needle and the thread, gotta get you outta my head, get you outta my head  

Luka cringed at his own voice coming from the speakers. “Did you have to keep that one?” he asked plaintively. “I made you a better one.” 

“I know,” Marinette giggled. “But I like this one. It’s the first one you made for me.” 

“The quality is shit,” Luka grunted. He’d recorded it on his phone on the boat, on his acoustic back when they were teenagers. The boat hull gave it a weird hollow sound, and in a couple of places he’d gotten too loud and blown out the mic so that it sounded all staticy, and the p’s popped awfully, and he didn’t even know how she could stand to listen to that song because the whole reason he’d made her the cover was because she was playing the song nonstop as she mourned her breakup with—and he’d wanted to do something, anything to help— 

Marinette’s lips pressed to the wrinkle in his forehead, snapping him out of his thoughts. “It has sentimental value. Go sit at the table, I’ll bring out the food.”

Luka got up off the floor, swaying only slightly, and dragged himself to his small table. Marinette brought him a loaded plate, bacon piled beside the spinach omelet, sliced banana arranged on the other side. Luka avoided the bacon for the moment, going after the banana first, and then nibbling cautiously at the omelet. Marinette slid a plate of avocado toast and sliced french bread drizzled with honey over to him, and he ate a slice of each obediently. 

“Why is this so good when I feel so crappy?” he muttered.

"Science,” Marinette informed him, and he cracked a smile. 

“You didn’t have to stay,” Luka said after a moment. “Not that I don’t appreciate this, but…well. You didn’t have to.” 

Marinette glanced up at him and then seemed to consider her words for a moment. “I guess I was hoping...maybe you had some things to tell me this morning.” 

His fork froze halfway to his mouth as he stared at her, remembering the way she’d held him last night. What’s she’d said in his ear as he nearly dozed off on her. 

Tell me that again when you’re sober .

She held his gaze, taking a deliberately dainty bite of honey-drizzled bread, her tongue darting out to lick a stray drop off her lip. Luka swallowed, wondering wildly if she would taste like honey if he kissed her.

“M-maybe I do,” he mumbled, and then took a too large bite of omelet. He stared at his plate as he chewed, not even tasting it as his body went cold and then hot and a sudden wave of dizziness washed over him that he didn’t think had anything to do with the hangover. He was suddenly finding it hard to breathe. 

He glanced up to see Marinette still watching him. 

“Well,” she said, blushing and looking down at her own plate with a self-deprecating smile that he found much too adorable. “I promise if you do, I won’t run away this time.” 

There was a beat of silence as he stared at her and she stared at her plate, and then he mumbled, “Good to know,” and took another bite, trying not to smile too broadly while inside he was screaming like a teenage girl. 

Fiction Master Post

Music:

#quickspins #lbsc sprint fic challenge #lukanette #endgame lukanette #lukanette endgame #luka couffaine #marinette dupain-cheng #drunka #drunken confessions #promptfic #miraculousladybug #miraculous ladybug #quicksprints

[alirhi]

If I wrote Loki pt 5

(Missed one? Episode 1 Episode 2 Episode 3 Episode 4)

Woo. Coming up on the end. It's been so hard to keep the same stupid storyline and just give Loki a bigger part to play (in his own motherfucking show) rather than just rewriting the whole bloody thing, but it's almost done! And trust me, guys, this has been deliberate (and painful), not a sign of lacking creativity. If I'd really written this thing, there would be no Mobius, no Sylvie, no TVA. It would have been properly about Loki and would not just be a six-hour commercial for the multiverse. Of course, it almost definitely would have also involved Loki in a poly relationship with Sigyn and Bucky if I was allowed to truly run wild 😂 so I'm not saying I'm perfect lmao

Alright. Let's get on with this, shall we?

Episode 5! Almost done! We start with the TVA side of things. Mobius is struggling to calm the other agents and keep them from killing anyone else, not an easy task when enraged, grief-stricken Sigyn is trying to kill them all. He manages to get close to her just long enough to whisper He's not dead; not yet. He slips a Tempad into her hand, winks, and then steals a weapon and prunes her. Happy now? he grumbles at his coworkers, tossing the thing (seriously, what were those called? I keep wanting to call it a melty stick, but this show isn't worthy of a Grandmaster reference XD) back to the stunned agent he'd stolen it from. We have the psycho Variant. Job well done, right? Let's get her processed.

So much for friendship, Sylvie growls at him, horrified by how casually he just murdered Sigyn. I never said I was their friend, Mobius points out, though there's a quick flash of fear and regret as he glances back at the spot where Sigyn once stood. He doesn't know her well enough to care how things go for her, but he's praying she can help Loki. There was no way he could have sent Sylvie; she's feral, she doesn't trust anyone and can't be trusted, and there's no way she and Loki can work together.

Cut to Loki appearing in the pruned dimension. Again, can't remember if it had a name. I only watched these episodes once each, which was more than enough 🤮

Anyway, he doesn't fall out of nowhere; the orange sparks that he disintegrated into on the other side are what come together to recreate him here. He meets a few other Lokis; at least two of them are his age and blue. One is wearing Jotun clothes, and he smirks at OG Loki's look of surprise. "I went straight to Jotunheim after killing Laufey. I only had my throne for a few moments before those wretched TVA people showed up, but it was still mine."

"Did it make you happy?" Loki asks, a tired, resigned smile on his face. He knows the answer before King Loki says anything, and only smiles a bit wider when he says "No. I never wanted any throne." Loki nods and picks up King Loki's train of thought: "Only ever wanted to be seen and valued. But the only thing the house of Odin values is power." They take him to the underground bunker.

His interactions with the other Lokis aren't played for laughs. There's some lighthearted stuff (I'd keep Croki and his reaction to him, because that was genuinely funny) but mostly Loki meeting other Loki variants (several of them female and no one bats an eye) is to show that he was never evil. Self-serving and a little weaselly at times, especially when he was younger, but not evil. King Loki is horrified that OG Loki tried to destroy Jotunheim. OG Loki, in turn, can't even look at Feral Loki who never deluded himself into thinking Odin would ever love him and ran away as a child. Like Old Loki, he kept himself hidden for years before he got lonely and sloppy and the TVA found him.

Each new story more heartbreaking than the last; each new Loki variant reveals more of the horrors they've suffered in service of the TVA's "sacred timeline" before being sent to this place to die. But Lokis don't die; they fight, and they survive. They're all tired. They're all a bit broken. A few have had idle passing thoughts of finding a way out, a way home, but what would be the point? After all, they'd only be sent back again. Princess Loki quietly illustrates this point by revealing that she did get out, once. She ran to her husband and wife - Baldur and Nanna; she loved Sigyn, every Loki who's ever met Sigyn has loved her, but like many of them, she never had the courage to tell her, so she latched onto the pair who would have her - and they didn't recognize her. Their connection had been erased, and her once-partners only knew her as the Trickster who'd once almost gotten Baldur killed. She was captured and sent back to this wretched place, and with nothing left to hold onto on the other side, stayed.

"Then there is a way out," is OG Loki's takeaway. He remembers the prank that had nearly killed Baldur, and he cringes a little, but quickly moves on. He needs to get out, get home. "Where is 'home', Loki?" King Loki challenges him, and that makes him pause. He'd only learned about his Jotun heritage a year ago, Asgard was slated to be eradicated... "Sigyn," he murmurs. "Sigyn is home."

"Then I suppose this is home now." Loki spins to face the source of the snarky voice behind him, and throws his arms around Sigyn, overwhelmed with joy to see her. One of the other Lokis had found her and brought her to the bunker, and all the Lokis are staring at her, missing their own connections with her, but this isn't their Sigyn, so they stay away. She smiles and backs up, holding out the Tempad. "Or we can find a new home."

He takes it, and glances at the others. "Our greatest failing is that we've always done everything alone. Look where that's brought us - all of us, no matter what path we try to take, we're all here." One of them points out that the TVA is why they're there, and he nods. "That's my point. Alone, not one of us can stop them. Our sister tried, and I brought her into their clutches." He points to Princess Loki. "She tried to escape them, but they made sure she was alone. This is not my fate. I refuse. If I can't count on myself, well..." A mocking smirk at his other "selves" turns into a fond, nervous smile as he turns to Sigyn. "I suppose I'd better start counting on someone else for help."

"There is not a single Loki that's ever existed who wouldn't die for that woman," King Loki points out, giving Sigyn a shy smile. She laughs, blushes, and turns to OG Loki, who only shrugs and nods with a sheepish smile of his own. "We can address that later," she assures him. "For now, what's the plan, Loki?"

"If Sylvie can enchant, so can I. We're twins." He grins, putting the Tempad away. "That's a handy failsafe, but I'd like to be done running. I say we enchant the guard dog outside and find out what it's guarding."

Meanwhile, Mobius and Sylvie (I'd be happy to forget about them both, but y'all like them, so...) are discovering the truth behind the "Time keepers". Finding out the whole thing was a sham, Mobius is 100% done. He and Sylvie work together to remind as many agents as they can who they once were, trying to dismantle the TVA from within. While the small army of Lokis (and the beautiful Sigyn ❤) march right up to the hungry murder cloud, Mobius and Sylvie wake up as many variants-turned-agents as they can.

Episode 6 (season 1 finale)

#loki #loki series #loki negativity #fixing bad writing #if i wrote the series #episode 5 #almost done #thank gods

[heizerux]

Street Fig— I mean, Gamer 2.0

As I expected this was just gonna be one of those filler episodes, so nothing too off the wall happened that im swooning over. Either way, let’s do a quick “playthrough”!

Ready?

<BEGIN>

Parisian life seems to be bustling. The sky is clear, no akumas on sight, families are the park enjoying the day. . . Just what could possibly go wrong?

Oh, right.

RESPONSIBILITIES

Oh, but what’s this?!?

Shout out to Marinette for not procrastinating, and actually sticking to her tasks!

She not only took down by this timeline in the episode all the Adrien posters, but she also converted the “Adrien Schedule” into her own work schedule, and now mainly focuses on doing her own things that involve her own growth and work. Even though her dad tries to sway her with her beloved love for gaming, she stays strong and even finishes her homework! I’m proud of my girl :’) No matter how tempting video games are, you have work to do and you will do it. RE2 Remake bb I’m sorry I’ll come back I promise 😭

Another shout out to Marinette’s parents? Why? They game together 😭

This is how you know they have a solid marriage, guys. Tom and Sabine are #couplegoals. Nuff said. Lol

Moving on to our akuma of the day however, we see Max. He just wanted to practice his gaming skills with his friends, but everyone is too busy to play or spend time with him. . . And then an akuma gets to him cause he’s lonely. I feel you, sweetie. *hugs Max*

Now onto Gamer 2.0

His akuma was nothing like the first version of itself. If anything he was an entire video game level replicating a rematch of their first mecha fight back in Gamer. It’s not a bad “nod”.

It was also kind of neat to take control of the akumas in a fighting game. Gave a good summary of the akuma’s we’ve seen up to this point as well as insight on how Ladybug and Chat Noir would utilize those akuma powers. It’s cool.

To Close the episode, Ladybug outsmarts Gamer 2.0 and wins “the game”. Marinette then invites Max to play with her parents since they’re free but also to bond over video games, . . . and it was a pure episode.

Overall Outlook?

I think imma start doing these per “episode analysis” post I make

This was a filler episode, but as the gamer I still am at heart, it was one I enjoyed. I’d give it a rating of 6.5 out of 10 butterflies. The reason being was that it was your average episode with no massive plot happening, yet it was still pleasant to watch! Let’s move on to the side stuff.

Speculation-Station sort of Observations:

Marinette’s work load is actually getting to her a bit, and I have a feeling this is gonna be some partial foreshadowing for “Ladybug”, the episode. If her civilian duties can get that overcrowded. . . How will she feel when her hero work seriously begins to affect her?

I’m actually shocked Lila didn’t try to “prove” she’s a world champion pro gamer in secret or something. . .

I see they’re showcasing an akuma we have yet to see. I like the “Día De Los Muertos” vibe it has going. The weapon is like a sniper trumpet? Idk about you guys, but this yet to be seen akuma just drives me loco. Un poquitito loco~ (if you get that reference, you get enchiladas. Or tacos. My treat)

Possible Chat Blanc behavior foreshadowing (or insight). I’ll come back to this one

Random, but seeing as how this akuma kind of went nowhere, I have an off the wall theory to offer: Anyone think that the reason why Hawkmoth re-akumatizes the same people more than once is because he’s tying to sway Ladybug and Chat Noir with the unexpected? I’m taking too much inspiration from TimeTagger. I know it’s not it but I do find it interesting that he’s doing 2.0 akumas for specific people.

Random Things That Made Me Squeal or Giggle:

The fact that it’s implied Jagged Stone still (Maybe? Please correct me for I don’t fully know French) commissions Marinette for side projects that involves her art. (If my understanding was correct) He believes and sees the talent in her . . . and I just think that’s amazing.

E3 2019’s unveiled titles to come got me feelin like

Kim fully investing himself in training with Ondine, a cute girl of what looks like to have mutual interests. Chloé who? Never heard of her lol.

Marc and Nathaniel being creative best friends boyfriends.

Kitty Section’s progression. They went from kids just practicing for fun to actually making a solid band. (If you wanna follow a timeline, this episode likely goes before Silencer.)

Chat Noir really did the “I messaged a girl on (insert social media) and her boyfriend sent me this” meme finishing move. . . didn’t he?

I’M WEAK

Chat Noir doing the Eddy Gordo idle dance from Tekken.

How we take Lila down.

Begone. . .

THOT

Chat’s undying love and devotion for Ladybug. That boy really WOULD sacrifice himself and jump off a cliff if it meant keeping his lady alive and well, as well as knowing she will take down their enemy if he’s gone. That’s trust. Oh! My heart. I can’t take this. My fangirl weeps in glee.

Random Chat Blanc Talk:

Returning to that Chat Blanc Foreshadowing point, so Chat Noir as I understand just outright confirmed that he’d never willingly fight her, and judging his actions, would rather sacrifice himself than harm her even if it meant taking down an enemy. . .

Weredad gave us this insight briefly. Adrien/Chat Noir does his best to not fight people he deeply cares for if he can help it.

So let’s compare an akumatized Chat Noir, Chat Blanc.

How serious can he get when he has to fight her? Will he actually do it? Will he fight off the akuma on his own when the time comes? Would Ladybug actually physically fight him?

There’s a lot to consider going into that Chat Blanc “fight” that’s to come, that’s for sure.

#gamer 2.0 #max kante #ml season 3 #ml spoilers #ml analysis #ml review #ml meta #ml speculation #miraculous ladybug #miraculous ladybug and chat noir #ml

[shadowling-guistical]

Milestones

SUMMARY: After deciding to take a gap year, Virgil Sanders expected to enter his freshman year of college feeling anxious and out of place. But not if his childhood friends; Patton Hart, Roman Prince and Logan Croft have anything to say about it.

CHARACTERS: Virgil Sanders/Anxiety, Roman Sanders/Creativity, Logan Sanders/Logic, Patton Sanders/Morality, Thomas Sanders (mentioned/background), Remy Sanders (Mentioned/background) Dr. Emille Picani (Mentioned/Background).

PAIRINGS: Platonic LAMP but can be romantic if you squint and sorta tilt your head to the left.

CONTENT/TRIGGER WARNING: Mentions of therapy and medication. Discussions about university related stress

Read an extended version on AO3.

For @sanders-sides-fanzine‘s The Core of Us Fanzine! If you enjoyed this, consider downloading the zine (which is FREE!) and give the team and contributors some love!

It was, by all means, a normal summer day for one Virgil Sanders. He woke up, had breakfast, took his meds and logged on to chat with his close friends. That is, until his mother told him he had mail before she headed out to work. She had kissed him on the top of his head, as if she didn’t just send a jolt of electricity striking through his heart, oblivious as she handed him money to share with his siblings.

He excused himself from their voice chat and went down to retrieve it. As though psychic, each of his friends wished him luck in their own ways. They gushed and reassured him in their group chat while sending something totally separate in the Direct messages. Patton sent him a wholesome, motivating meme. Logan sent him a single question mark. Roman began blowing up his direct messages with fragments of excited texts. He in particular was excited for Virgil to finally join them in campus after taking a gap year for mental health reasons.

He passed by his baby brother watching his morning cartoons. His middle brother, Remy was probably still asleep. Virgil ruffled Thomas’ hair as he retreated back to his bedroom.

A whirl of emotions settled in his stomach after Virgil closed the door behind him. It began settling into a poisonous miasma of nervousness and dread, both very hot and very icy.

Virgil slid a nail edge under the flap- tearing it open. He took the contents out, scanned the words and-

…

“…Oh…”

.

.

 His status soon went from online to idle and finally, offline.

.

.

.

That night, Patton spent his evening fretting over the lack of a reply. Where was the usual emoji of a purple heart? Frustrated, he finally stopped pacing around his room long enough to go down to the kitchen. His freckled face screwed in determination while he took out his mixing bowls. Now, what was the recipe for chocolate brownies again?

Logan waited with bated breath for that single exclamation point. Over the next few hours, he forced himself to calm down. He reminded himself that Virgil probably needed logic and reason the most at this moment. He put away his phone and began looking up the procedure for an admission appeal. The date shouldn’t be too far away, right? Or perhaps another institution nearby?

Roman found himself wishing for a snarky reply about how much they will be seeing each other on campus.  He waited as time stretched out to midnight and beyond. Before he slept, he made a mental note to find his copy of Black Cauldron amongst his extensive collection of Disney Movies. A Disney movie night never failed to cheer his friend up!

.

.

.

Next mid afternoon, Virgil found himself nervously tapping his feet as he waited for someone to pick up the call he was making. He spent earlier that morning in his regular therapy sessions with his therapist. Virgil mainly talked about his current development of events. Doctor Picani had advised him to talk to his support system about his fears, and to be open to them. And that was what Virgil was attempting to do.

 "Hello?? Virgil?" 

 Virgil swallowed, throat suddenly dry.

 "Hey Pat… um…" 

 Patton, bless him, patiently waited for Virgil instead of bombarding him with questions. 

 "Take your time kiddo. Roman and Logan are with me, do you want this to be on speaker?" 

 "Yeah, Pat… That'll uh… That'll be swell." 

 Great. Might as well get this over with. There was a click and Virgil can hear rustling from the other line. 

 "Virgil," He heard Logan speak in his calm timbre, "Are you well?" 

 "Yeah I am actually… just ...well," A deep breath, "I got accepted Lo." 

 "Ah… Congratulations!" Logan sounded sincere, while there was a flurry of voices in the background. Probably Roman and Patton being excited.

 "Thanks Lo…" Virgil sat down on his bed heavily. 

 "You don't sound so happy about it, J Delightful. You didn’t even came back to talk to us yesterday,” 

 "I am Ro.. I am… But… God. I’m sorry for being a jerk. When I read the letter. I was…happy. But…" 

 "…You panicked?" 

 "... Yeah…" Virgil mumbled, beginning to rub his eyes, "And it's not even because I'm struggling. Dr P and I are doing great! My meds are fine. He's teaching me how to deal with everything… But I still feel…" 

 "Unprepared…?" 

 Patton's calming voice sort of broke something in him, and Virgil felt his throat close up and his eyes water. 

 “…Scared…"

 "Oh kiddo…" 

 "Virgil…You know that you don't have to go now. There's always the option of delaying or opting to start at the second intake," 

 "I know that Lo…But I really want to go NOW. But ugh…" Virgil let himself fall back onto his bed and sniffed, "I just got so overwhelmed. Thinking of the things I need to pack, classes, paperwork…Picking a major. Where do I even BEGIN?"

 "We understand. Look, me and Specs need to go soon. How do you feel about Patton coming over to keep you company? We’ll handle the other stuff later. Together." 

 "That's right Kiddo! I have some brownies here with your name on em!" 

 Virgil wiped his eyes with the edge of his hoodie sleeve, "That sounds… amazing, Pat. You'd do that?" 

 "In a Hart-beat," The pun made Virgil smile. "And if you want, I can help you find some on campus resources. The counselling department has some amazing counsellors," 

 Virgil took a deep breath, and exhaling slowly, "... Yeah.. I think I'd like that…Thanks Patton" 

 "Excellent. I shall look up other relevant information for a later date."

 "Right…" Virgil agreed, "Thanks L...Princey. I appreciate it a lot." 

 "Anything for our emo." 

 "See you soon Virgil!"

. 

. 

. 

The next few days passed by like a blur. It was all hands-on deck, with Patton, Logan and Roman helping him in all matters big and small. 

Patton came by, gave him a hug and fed him the brownies. Later, he sat with Virgil in front of his computer, guiding him on all the resources available on campus. After a while, Virgil found himself mulling very little as he sent an email to a counsellor on campus to set up an appointment. In fact, he daresay he started to look forward to it. Patton was there throughout the whole process, just generally providing the best help he could have ever asked for. Virgil asked him questions extensively, and Patton patiently answered each and every one.

His support and help prompted Virgil to later wear a small enamel badge he found while browsing a thrift store. It reminded Virgil that there are people looking out and supporting him at every turn in his life. 

With an appointment with a counsellor now booked, Virgil turned his attention to his classes. In this area, Logan came in- keen and determined. 

Armed with several sheets of printed out information, he came to Virgil's house the night after Patton left.

He explained Virgil's options, going through one suggestion at a time. He reassured him about choosing his major, telling him that he can remain undeclared as long as he needed to. But also to be mindful about what classes he decides to take. Highlighter in hand, they slowly but surely mapped out the classes Virgil could register in his first year. It was balanced in that it both provided enough time for him to settle in his new environment and for Virgil to still get the credit hours he needed.

It was because of Logan that Virgil started carrying with him a small nondescript journal. He wrote everything in it, from reminders to To Do lists. It helped him plan, and made him recall Logan's words that learning is always something that Virgil has control over. 

Roman literally came in full force. Barging in early one morning and boisterously announcing his arrival to help him pack. Surprisingly, he was very helpful. He took the time to help Virgil organise everything and all the while, they just… talked. They bantered and joked. Each day, Roman never failed to show up. He skillfully took Virgil's mind of the stress of moving away as the date crawled nearer. He talked about the plays that will be put on that semester, promising to introduce Virgil to the cast and crew. Remembering their high school days, Virgil promised to consider trying out as the crew and Roman smiled encouragingly, saying nothing more. 

And if Virgil started wearing a little red in any instance where he needed a boost of confidence, Roman didn't need to know that too.

.

.

. 

Virgil admitted he took a little while to get to certain milestones compared to his peers. But as Roman's car began to move away from their neighbourhood, Logan's GPS pre-set to Florida University and Patton's brownies started being passed around, he realized that taking his time was well worth it. 

#sanders sides #ts sides #tsfics #virgil sanders #ts virgil #ts anxiety #roman sanders #ts roman #ts creativity #ts princey #logan sanders #ts logan #ts logic #patton sanders #ts patton #ts morality #thomas sanders #ts thomas #remy sanders #ts remy #ts sleep #emile picani #ts emile #virgil sanders centric #mine #LAMP - platonic relationship

[onestowatch]

Drewboy is Ready to Bring Traphouse Bounce to the Masses [Q&A]

Philly has a new MC ready to make an impact on the music industry. Drewboy has just released his debut full-length mixtape, Personality, via Island Records/Tommy Brown’s Champagne Therapy and Team Xcluzive Entertainment.. Pioneering the traphouse bounce genre of rap, Drewboy has combined his unique approach to music with a knack for building community online into a winning formula. We were lucky enough to catch up with the emerging MC to speak on Personality, his dream collabs, and more.

Ones To Watch: Your name is Drewboy, but people also call you The Flow God and Da Boy— how did you come up with that? Drewboy: Drewboy was a name my dad used to call me when I was coming up & Da Boy kind of just came like Lil Wayne/Tunechi or Young Thug/Thugga. I earned the name “The Flow God” from my freestyle videos and witty style people would comment on when I'd post videos.

What is Traphouse Bounce? Traphouse Bounce is my own genre of music or my sound. It's the vibe or getting in your "zone" when listening to my music. It's a hybrid of Trap with some bounce in it. It's feel-good music.

How do you feel about being the next big voice out of Philly? You’ve already received co-signs from Meek Mill, Rick Ross and Wale? It feels amazing knowing that all my hard work is getting noticed because in this day and age everybody wanna rap so I knew I had to come up with something that was different. I wanted to show I could rap but also wanted to show off my fun side. It lets me know my vision is being seen and it's paying off. When did you decide you wanted to rap? I've always loved music. I have a lot of respect for the game so I wanted to do it right and work hard to earn my place. So I decided wanted to take rap seriously in 2018 and I've been focused ever since.

How did “Personality” come together?

Personality came together from a mixture of songs I recorded when I first got signed. I have kind of been around, grinding, but now I'm here, so the tape is an introduction. The songs have different vibes that show different sides to my personality. What’s the standout track on the tape to you? My stand out track on the tape would be Traphouse Bounce. But other dope moments are: Bass and Crash

How has COVID affected your creative process and how have you seen it affect your city? COVID has affected my creative process in a big way because performing is what makes me the artist I am. I get a rush off of feeling the energy of people. My connection with my fans and the audience is electric and that's one of the most important elements of what I do. I miss it but want everyone to stay safe, so we can get better. In Philly, idle time isn't good. It gives people more time to do dumb stuff and higher rates of crime. So I'm doing everything I can to use my platform to keep people inside, talking to fans to past the time and giving them some fire music now to listen to.

What’s the #TRAPHOUSEBOUNCEChallenge? The Traphouse Bounce Challenge is a dance challenge me & Dre came up with to my song Traphouse Bounce and it's been moving on Triller with over 100k views on it. So, we're keeping it moving and giving people something to do on the quarantine.

You recently performed for a BLM fundraising concert with YK Osiris, how did that happen and what’s a special moment from it? This happened through a girl I know named Indigo. It was something that I wanted to be apart of because I see what injustice looks like in my city. The whole concert was a vibe and it was super special to turn up with YK for a good cause. What are some other artists you’re listening to now? Right now, I’m listening to NLE Choppa , NBA Youngboy , Lil Baby , Da Baby, Meek Mill, Rick Ross, Wale, Rod Wave, Lil Durk, G Herbo and King Von What are some of your dream collabs? Some of my dream collabs are Da Baby, NLE Choppa , Meek Mill , Wale, Rick Ross and T.I What do you want fans to take away from your mixtape? I want my fans to hear the fun side of my music and have fun with it. I want people to hear another side of Philly and see that there is a lot of promising talent coming from the city. I want fans to have some captions for IG and I want them to go to my tape to make them feel good & hopefully it makes them want to turn up even more. What makes you “one to watch”? My hard work & my vibes make me one to watch .. it’s hard to find good vibes AND #Bars...so don’t overlook me.

Listen to Personality below.

#Drewboy #Rap #Personality #Traphouse Bounce

[tealspells]

Could you list out everyone’s godtier and explanation? (Godtier because i can only remember knight/heir/rogue outfits) and explanation because I’m curious and I love your au!

sure!!! sorry this took so long to type out, watch out tho, this is gonna be long!

Mob:

For Mob, I gave him a Rogue of Hope! Reasons being... well:

Rogues have trouble embracing their aspect, in this case, being Hope. Hope is the belief that anything is possible and that positivity is the solution to many things, to embrace belief in yourself and your potential as well as accepting positivity from others. HE IS NOT A MASTER CLASS, which i know seems to be a popular class to give him, despite his power, and my reason for that is because giving his a master class such as Muse or even a potentially OP one such as Page, kind of destroys the point of MP100′s message of "nobody is special" and "because no one is special, your life is your own". I gave him a classpect to help him grow, not emphasize his power. He is given a class to help him overcome his lack of Hope (as well as to create a balance between the idea of positive and negative emotions.) and given the class of Rogue, he has trouble believing in himself, but has no problem motivating others. He is the IDEA of hope, (with many character citing their changes because of him in canon) but struggles accepting his own potential. In canon he is so quick to forgive and believe in the change of so many people, but refuses to forgive and believe in his own change in himself.) Hope players have strong convictions, and very strong sense to do what is right. That’s not to say Hope is just nice and healing, Hope is the opposite of Rage, and isn't entirely a good thing, combined with the often black-and-white views Hope players have, if their belief is strong enough they can cause destruction if they feel it is right. Hope is the IDEA of positivity, Mob would need to realize positivity can not solve everything, and learn to allow himself to feel negative emotions, and distribute this hope to everyone else, but not blindly. Mob still has his ESP, and is whenever he is prone to exploding, his aspect begins to mirror Rage.

Ritsu:

Ritsu is a Prince of Mind!

First off, we know Ritsu is intelligent. As a Mind player, they focus on rationality, not the impersonal.  Mind deals a lot with decisions, paths, and the consequences that follow. Because of all the potential paths decisions can make, Mind players are often burdened with the responsibility of choosing the “correct” answer. Mind players do not have all the answers, and this can lead to overwhelming these players with all the potential repercussions these choices can make. Ritsu has, from the beginning after the incident with his brother, shoved down his sense of self, and built a sort of goody-two-shoes, reliable brother act. He did this to keep his brother stress-free, to avoid the danger his brother could become and bring out. He made this decision at the expense of his own identity, his own emotions and feelings. So in a way, he destroyed his “self” with a decision (tying into his classpect. Princes are destroyers, either destroying with their aspect, or destroying their aspect. In this case, he destroyed WITH his aspect, with his decision). Mind is also the opposite of Heart, and because of this, Mind players have the tendency to, where Heart players are overtly concerned with their Self, Mind players concern themselves the least with their Self. Princes are stubborn, teetering on the edge of control and chaos, and often destroy their own aspect within themselves. While that sounds awful, the way I apply it to is that, the aspect has to be taken into account! So, Ritsu would destroy his own decisions within himself in order to come up with better ones, and at his worst moments, be void of any decisions so he is forced to act impulsively. For Ritsu, his challenge as a Prince of Mind would be to not let himself be destroyed by his decisions, and lack of decisions, and allow himself to rebuild his sense of self while realizing that rationality and self go hand in hand.

Tome:

Naturally, Tome’s a Space player! A Thief of Space! I went more into depth to why she’s a Space player tho besides.... she likes space (a lot also just being my interpretations.....)

Thieves are well-intentioned, and eccentric, and unlike Rogues, they have confidence in their aspect and hide away their insecurities to avoid looking weak. Tome is shown to be outlandish and loud, making her presence known (taking up as much Space as possible). Space players see things as a whole, not overly concerned with details and mostly go along with the ride. In her canon appearances, Tome is mostly seen lazing around and taking things as they come, and her fascination with space and aliens (as well as telepathy) take up most of her interest space, often becoming overbearing when she talks about her interests. She also uses her creativity, a Space player trait, to get herself out of situations, her eccentricity creating a more believable layer to this (much like how Reigen's sincerity and genuity adds dimension to his advice). Her confidence in her aspect hides her insecurity of wasting time and never pursuing her passion, mirroring in canon where she drops her interest in finding telepaths to focus on her schoolwork. While Tome would use most of her fascination of space to gather knowledge of how to game works for herself (especially anything to do with the trolls since they are aliens she's interested about learning, and her own role to breed the universe frog), her challenge is to use her creative solutions to help further progress in the session, as well as helping others.

Reigen:

A Heir of Blood!

The Blood aspect deals with bonds, leadership, and trust. Reigen, by all accounts, is not a commanding leader, but an inspirational one instead. Considering his class, Heir, they often end up in their roles either naturally or it finds them, and with Reigen, I’d definitely say the role of an inspirational leader both found and gravitated to him. While Reigen isn’t particularly seen as a leader (we know he’s either clueless to danger sometimes, because let’s be real, he’s out of his league dealing with supernatural stuff but does his best to manage, and calls his shots based on whether he knows he can deal with it or not), he also is very reliable and grounded, as a Blood player should be. Blood players offer sound advice as well, but that’s not to say Reigen is completely put together himself though! We see Reigen fall apart briefly before putting himself back together when Mob leaves him to his own devices, unaware of the effect Mob’s presence gives to him, mirroring how Reigen’s presence had an effect on Mob’s when Mob first sought him out, and all the advice Reigen has given Mob as well as others. Most Blood players have messy impersonal relationships, think about how Reigen deals with his mother, and how he seems to struggle with and have a lack of relationships outside of work. Blood players also are very “do as I say, not as I do” types, and charismatic, which I think fits Reigen perfectly! Heirs invite manipulation to their aspect, and invite manipulation through their aspect. Reigen would be able to encourage change in bonds and alliances as well as cause change due to bonds and alliances (a good example would be how the former Scar members came to Reigen for leadership).

Tsubomi:

A Witch of Time! most of this is my own interpretation of her character and a callback to her incredibly passive role in canon so i gave her an active one!

So!!! Time players, above all, value action over passiveness. Time is always moving forward, its players would do the same, not wanting to idle and do nothing. Since Tsubomi is an Heiress as a fuschia, she has long accepted her role and fate, knowing there would be a time she would have to face the current Empress, and lose. She cultivates a likeable persona, not much out of her own desire but to increase her chances of survival. Like in canon, this fits how Tsubomi had to keep up her “idol” personal up at all times, and if she slipped, she knew she would be an easy target due to her popularity (such as that time she had sneezed and needed a napkin). Fuschia Tsubomi figured if she was adored and well-liked by most of the population, she could turn the tides in the society and rebel, or at the very least, obtain enough help. She plays her “idol Heiress” role to the T, passive and agreeable, and most of it involves keeping herself out of trouble, despite all the death and injustice surrounding her and the society. Tsubomi would definitely be eager to leave her stuffy persona, and longs to take action and take things into her own hands, take charge of her own fate. Basically, not wanting to “sit and look pretty”. Time players are also goal-oriented, and her keeping her eye on the end to the moment she can finally act is true to this. Witches are breakers and manipulators of their aspects. Time is a constricting, never-ending flow and for a Witch of Time, breaking the flow and breaking from the flow, manipulating it as one wants, as Tsubomi would view it due to her having been stuck in her role as Heiress, freeing.

Shou:

A Mage of Void!

Void is all about secrets, holding them or discovering them. It’s all about the potential the void, “nothing”, seems to have, and how something can be built from nothing. Void players are mysterious themselves, their minds and thoughts processes hard to grasp, like their aspect itself. They prefer to exist on their own. From his first canon appearance, very little information is presented about Shou, and while he isn’t necessarily keeping his role a secret, he wasn’t really telling anyone about it either. He comes and goes, silent as a shadow, observant and keeping to himself until he reveals his presence. Void players cast doubt into what is already considered known, and refuse to bow to intellectual authority, especially when they believe something better can be built rather than what the authority claims. Having been raised by his ancestor, Touichirou, Shou is entirely aware of his plans of domination, having gathered this through poking around in the shadows for answers. His refusal to use Touchirou’s same blood color is both an act of rebellion as well as concealing his connection to him by using an orange color instead, effectively hiding himself from his ancestor. Mages understand their aspect and gain understanding with it. Shou was able to gather intellect due to his connection with horrorterrors and from using his caste abilities (he’s a blueblood after all, but not mind control like Vriska, more like making the mind believe things, a sort of illusion, and uses it to conceal his presence, “voiding” himself from reality). Mages also experience their aspect personally. Because he is a Mage of Void, Shou could suffer an overwhelming sense of loneliness, as well as the responsibility Shou burdens himself with of defeating and stopping Touichirou, could potentially cause a backlash to him if he fails to heed warnings and act on his knowledge (think of how Sollux, a Mage of Doom, failed to listen to warnings of doom, suffered a backlash of the death of his friends as well as his eyesight). Shou’s challenge is to open his mind to different perspectives rather than relying on his own knowledge.

Teru:

A Knight of Heart! (nothing new, just copy-pasted from that other post, figured i’d add it here to have them all together)

Heart deals a lot of with identity. A heart player would concern themselves with their identity and can become a bit self-absorbed bc of it, but it doesn’t have to be a in bad way, they just think everyone else think about their own identity like they do. So they’re very self aware. Teru from the beginning is very self-aware of who he is, and who he wants to be. even when he has his change from “protagonist” to “support character”, Teru still shows his self-absorbed nature but again, he just puts a lot of thought into his identity and grows from being aware of his own self. early on, Teru’s issues stem from forming his identity around how people view him, and we see how much it affects him in canon when mob tears down his perfect bubble he built for himself, and feels as if his identity was taken away. and because i placed him lower on the hemospectrum (he’s a goldblood), he also tries to make himself seem as special as he can, and mirrors the attitude of those higher on the caste system, and his thought process goes like this: im special because of my identity i worked hard to build up. troll teru is also very hung up on the quadrants, again, viewing it as a way to build his identity and solidify his place as Special. his class, Knight, ties into this because really, teru uses his identity as a facade. we see both dave and karkat (as well as latula) hide behind a facade, SHIELDING their “true selves” behind it (bc… knights and shields lol). Knights hide behind their aspect to hide their fears of failure, which i think fits Teru, again, when Mob breaks down his facade, bluntly telling him Teru is just like him. The challenge for Teru as as Knight would be to accept his skills as they are and not allow himself to be chained to his previous identity.

#ask thingy #mobstuck #not sure if i made much sense but here are their classpects! #if u read all of this... kudos to u #Anonymous

[stratamuzak]

Interview with Voltagehawk

STRATA: What artists in particular you are drawn to (alive or deceased) that you listen to for particular moods? Such as happy/sad/contemplative/etc… Explain why you might listen to one artist for a particular mood.

CHASE AROCHA When I want to feel inspired I listen to a lot of the different projects of Mike Patton. Be it Faith No More, Mr. Bungle, Peeping Tom, or Tomahawk, the range of styles of music is so diverse that I’ve been listening for like 15 years and I haven’t gotten bored yet, haha. When I want to relax or chill, I love BadBadNotGood, an amazing jazz artist doing incredible arrangements all in a hip-hop context. It’s great! Or Ray Lynch, I really love his writing and use of counterpoint melody. Then if I’m getting hyped I put on something like Dying Fetus or Vitriol, or Maximum the Hormone. And any other time I’m blaring Kamasi Washington, Robert Glasper and Sturgill Simpson.

DAN FENTON I think a lot of the time music finds my mood. Sort of more a spiritual or cosmic connection. When I was a kid my mom would make us watch musicals if we stayed home sick from school. Jokes was on her because I hated school but I loved learning musical scores and how to write dynamic parts and movements. The fact that people like Bing Crosby and Fred Astaire, Frank Sinatra or Marlon Brand were also amazing actors only added to that unlikely education. I learned how to really feel music between that and the intense very bloody hymns we had to sing in church. I understand the sentiment but that shit is harder than a lot of black metal. “Are you washed in the blood of the lamb”. Hard core shit. Sorry, I digress. During the making of our most recent record which is called Electric Thunder and set for release later this year or early next (hard to navigate releases with all this pandemic shit) I listened exclusively to film scores, classical music and radio evangelists. I am not religious but I grew up in a preacher’s home and when I needed to get my creative push and anger at its peak, I listened to preachers who were clearly greed driven and motivated by the lust for power. It made my adrenaline rush in anger and it came out in the recording for sure. I am a huge fan of Hans Zimmer and Vangelis. Each of these artists move me in powerful ways. The juxtaposition of darkness and light both in traditional instrumentation and experimental synth based work. Just musical giants. When I am feeling frustrated about the social issues I see everyday in my East Nashville neighborhood I listen to KRS-One, Kamasi Washington, Outkast. A lot of protest music. I am in love with band IDLES from the UK. Such powerful lyrics tackling issues like the need for male vulnerability, equality for all and the  seemingly ironic brutal beat down of toxic masculinity. That band is great if you’re happy, mad, sad, whatever.

STRATA: Do you have a process you go through prior to writing, playing, and even performing?

CHASE AROCHA I do a lot of breathing exercises like the Wim Hof techniques. I have generalized anxiety disorder and I used to get horrible debilitating panic attacks, it helped me get into breathing and meditation. Anxiety will never go away but you learn ways to live with it and push through your panic. I think about how much this means to me and how long I’ve spent doing it, I try to see that I value myself as a person and then from that thinking I can just let go and play music. Only approaching it with love and not worrying about mistakes because that’s how we learn.

DAN FENTON The entire thing is one process. Like a heros journey of sorts. I listen and meditate everyday, I believe in a cosmic river of inspiration that flows from an energy that is and has always been. I believe if you listen hard enough and give yourself to the music the muse will send your mind transmissions that may only be a section of a song, or perhaps they are an entire album, but everyday I show up. A few years ago I read this book called The War Of Art, by Steven Pressfield. In this book he describes the invisible force he calls the Resistance. The Resistance may be things both “good or bad”, but they are anything that keeps you from showing up for your art. So I show up everyday, you can ask the dudes in the band, they receive a work tape maybe twice a week with new shit to try out. If I don’t feel that muse working I don’t force it, but I instead wait on further transmissions from the cosmic womb. All sounds crazy, but my story is crazy, so crazy makes the most sense. In the studio I have many processes. I found while recording vocals I perform better in complete darkness, I have realized how much I live inside my head and how active my imagination is and equally ADD my eyes are. So when I can’t see it brings to life the imagery and the passion of the song. I can see all those people I write about, all the landscapes, the love, lust, joy and pain. I also do some method stuff, keep things in my pockets pertaining to a character I may be portraying in a song. Wanna be Daniel Day Lewis shit.

STRATA: Your own current project, discuss the process your music went through as you built each layer. From beginning to the end of it. 

CHASE AROCHA This all started with our drummer Jarrad having a vision and going through trials and errors of finding the right people to execute that. Along the way Dan, Tyler, and I all came into the picture and that vision morphed into something we all felt was not even from us. Like we were an antenna receiving a signal and these riffs and lyrics quickly meshed into something I haven’t heard before. Part hard rock, part jazz, part punk and hardcore. All with this message of love and truth being the reason for living. To end the ones controlling our thoughts and dividing us or tribalism and greed. I feel like we made something worth listening to and that’s all I feel like you can really hope for.

DAN FENTON The self titled record that we have available now on all streaming platforms was two different profound stages in my life all in the making of one record. When we began, Jarrad and I partied a fuck ton, and I was descending into some serious personal shit with alcohol. It was bad, I couldn’t get through a day without way too high of a blood alcohol level. Before we finished vocals on the record, I stayed up one night working and drinking, perhaps I had never stopped from how many nights before, who fucking knows. Anyhow, I died for 9 minutes on the side porch of my house. Fully shut down, fucking dead. Mind you, I didn’t want to die, I just didn’t know how to lay off the bottle. Woke up in the ICU surrounded by my band, my wife and what few friends I had left. At that moment Voltagehawk became a complete family to me. I spent a stint in rehab (Jarrad drove me) and that was several years ago now. When I got out I went back to finish the record, make some amends and chase this thing out for real. So that was some info on the first record. The new Album which is a 13 song space odyssey named Electric Thunder, after our beloved Electric Thunder Studio owned and operated by our resident space wizard producer Geoff Piller, was not so dramatic. After I got my shit together and my mind cleared up I began to write everyday like a mad man. Song after song after song came like never before. I think we cut 15 songs out before we settled on the final 13. Our process as a band is often for myself or one of the other dudes to present a bare bones or often finished idea to the band and we run it through the Hawk Filter. The Hawk Filter is just the decomposition and reconstruction of every rough idea till it fits us. Which is silly to say because if we like, it we do it, not a matter of genre worship. Shit’s good, do it. Always do what’s best for the song.

STRATA: Can your music personally be an open door to breath and bend in the world of artistic exploration? In Other Words… how comfortable are you as an artist exploring other types of music and creating projects that might be totally  different than what you are creating now?

CHASE AROCHA There is so much great music in the world in so many styles, why shouldn’t we try to explore them all! I’m always trying something I haven’t done before, not always as a challenge, but I would hope it’s natural for people to do in art. We shouldn’t be the same people we were 2 years ago, let alone 10. I love jazz, Death Metal, and country music. If you can find a really fun and genuine way to blend those then that’s absolutely what you should do! Don’t be tied down to what kind of music you’re making and just make music.

DAN FENTON That’s all we do all day. Everything on this planet, and above it, and in it’s majestic seas and mountains, all these people of all the cultures of all the world and their energy and their culture all influence and musical inspiration is welcome. Our philosophy is never say no, and jump off the cliff, and pull yourself back up. Meaning: try all the musical options then settle on the one we believe is the most amazing. So much of our influence is from cinema and books, video games, you name it. I’ll pluck a support cable on every bridge I see ‘til I am dead just to see if it speaks to me. Sonically there are no fucking rules, and if you impose rules, fuck your rules. We love to create, to talk about creating and then to birth something new is beyond amazing.

STRATA: Are you open to change your style, genre even, and approach to how and what you create every time you enter a studio? Or do you find once you have a formula in place do you find it best to stay with what you know? Many times artists will change how they approach their songwriting and even their recording staff/producers.

CHASE AROCHA

Like I said before, I believe that you should just make music and with that should come constant experimentation. When we record we find sounds from all over the place. From children’s toy instruments, to skateboard wheels spinning to imitate rain. Our writing is kind of always evolving and changing. Dan is an amazing writer who literally has lyrics and melodies pouring out of his hands and face. Everyday he has new ideas and records and sends them to everyone. Jarrad is great at taking those riffs and making suggestions on how the structure could be of a song along with feel. I am obsessed with adding layers of guitars however I can, but I also write a lot and send tracks as well. Tyler is a tone junkie on the bass, filling in the bottom end and has such a great approach to being independent from the guitars with his lines. We send tracks back and forth to each other then we get in a room and flesh them out. The whole time in the process the songs are constantly changing and evolving into the sound we have. We are always open to change and never believe in the word No when discussing music and art. You try every idea and see what works and what doesn’t. Sometimes when one member has a vision of how a song should go and is trying to communicate that,  you should respect his idea and see it through. If it doesn’t work that’s okay, we tried!

DAN FENTON Voltagehawk is ever evolving. As it stands, we spend way too much time trying to pigeon hole what people will refer to our sound as. I don’t care what you call it as long as it moves you. I listen to everything from John Coltrane and Tom Waits to Napalm Death and Motorhead, Antonio Lucio Vivaldi to Kamasi Washington. IDLES and Bad Brains. If you refuse to evolve as an artist, experimenting, growing, trying new methods, all these elements then you cannot grow as a human being. Too many people are happy where they are, just okay, making the same music that their dads made and trying to cosplay some kind of yesteryear. We don’t do that shit, we’re us, that’s it. We grow, when you hear the Electric Thunder for the first time you will understand everything. If you burn some sage next to a photo of Carl Sagan while you listen to Electric Thunder, you will see the cosmic river in your minds eye. The world is full of people with a blockage in their brain. They cannot see that this bullshit we call a life is just a series of labor for hire gigs that leave us rapidly in the middle. We’re trying to break away from it all and follow our feathers, our truth, our search for enlightenment on our hero’s journey. I’ll leave you with this. Know Thyself.

#voltagehawk

[raisingsupergirl]

A Daydream In Defense of Classical Education: Love the Lord Your God With all Your Solid, Liquid, Gas, and Plasma

LentWatch 2020, Week One: Freedom!

Change is hard. Breaking habits is harder. And breaking habits without accountability is the hardest, which is probably why I've already "failed" at my personal Lent goals by snacking after dinner (c'mon, it was just a few cookies… and some meat-n-cheese… and some chips). But despite realizing my limits and having to drop that one goal, I've held strong to the rest (which you can read about by clicking here), and the results have been like a long sigh after months of holding my breath.

At first, I felt a little lost. Especially regarding social media and YouTube videos. It's amazing how we, in the 21st century, have lost the ability to sit idle. Every spare moment is taken up by checking our phones. Waiting at doctor's offices, going to the bathroom, five-second pauses in friendly conversation—they all fall victim to Instagram notifications, leaving no room for actual thought. And I almost forgot the joy of such idleness before I gave these little things up. And that, combined with cutting television down to a minimum and alcohol down to zero, has made way for that glorious thing that used to be so condemned by teachers and parents: daydreaming!

Now, one can't just cut out all entertainment cold turkey. I'm not even convinced that a human can survive on work and sleep alone. There must be some in-between where we recharge and enjoy pleasures of our own choosing. And so, instead of Facebook and Netflix and beers, I've been reading—at night, mostly, but also in the morning, and even a little during the day. As I said in my previous post, I started re-reading Celebration of Discipline. But I'm also reading The Book of Revelation, The Time Machine, and a creative young adult trilogy called The Illuminae Files. I've never been one to read multiple things at one time, but gosh, it seems like my mind has been hungry for too long, and now it's chowing down. And with the glut of all these stories and ideas, I'm finding that I pause every page or so to just think.

What am I thinking about? All kinds of stuff! For example, why water can't (typically) get hotter than 212 degrees Fahrenheit. Or why an open refrigerator will actually heat a room. Or whether Einstein was wrong about exceeding the speed of light. Or why four separate books of the Bible seem to disagree about how to love God (and thus, what it means to be human). You know, normal stuff.

WARNING: What follows is some serious musing and rambling. If you're strapped for time or are easily irritated by random details, skip to the last paragraph. You'll have no idea what the title of this post means, but hey, I'm not sure I really know, so…

Now, if you haven't checked out, you're probably just intrigued enough to wonder if I've completely lost it. But it may surprise you to know that all of the thoughts I listed above are quite related. And I never would have had them (or their subsequent "higher" questions) if I hadn't "wasted" tens of thousands of dollars on a bunch of classes that I "didn't need" in college. I would have just read the books I listed earlier with interest, and then I would have moved on with my life. But, you see, there are things that bind us—things that connect us to art, literature, history, architecture, mathematics, science, religion, and back to art again. And, for me at least, the more I fill in the gaps between these elements of the human experience, the more I appreciate it all.

I get that not everyone is like me. I get that most people are happy to learn a craft—become an expert, even—work at that craft, leave a legacy, and catch the last episode of their favorite TV shows. And that's the way it's always been. I mean, not everyone in ancient Greece was a philosopher. Not everyone in the Middle Ages received a classical education. But there may have been soldiers and peasants who would have enjoyed the experience had they been given the opportunity. And I, for one, am one of those peasants.

As I've said in previous posts, my young life was characterized by impulsiveness, which culminate in the idea that, "I should go to college and become a physical therapist." I just kind of had the idea one day, so I did it. I resonate with Elle Woods (from Legally Blonde) when she applied to Harvard Law School and said, "What, like it's hard?" Now, of course college was hard (and PT school was much more so), but I enjoyed it. All of it. Even the classes that I didn't need to take: philosophy, freshman English (in which I learned only about Little Red Riding Hood in all of her iterations throughout history…), physics, Old Testament studies, American history. Learning to enjoy education was a slow burn, and it definitely didn't peak until college. If I'd have followed my first inclinations as a senior in high school, I would have joined the military or the police academy, and I would have had a fulfilling career in either (likely with a more impactful contribution to society), but I never would have understood the universe in the way that I do now. And that would have been a real shame.

But I did go to college, and I did rack up student loans (which I'm scheduled to pay off this spring!). And I did come close to what could be called a classical education, which laid the foundation for me to continue to learn, grow, and connect thoughts and ideas into new and creative concepts… some of which are kind of insane, like the one's I mentioned above, which I will now explain briefly (but only if you see the dragon in this picture I took below. Why? Because it’s awesome, and if you don’t see it, you’re not worthy--aka weird enough--to continue):

Thanks to the books I'm reading in tandem—along with plenty of breaks spent daydreaming in idle, wandering thought—I've dredged up an old fascination of mine: Why is the Great Commandment represented in four different ways in the Bible? "Love the LORD your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength." That's how the author of Deuteronomy puts it. But then when the verse is quoted by Jesus thousands of years later, Matthew, Mark, and Luke all put it in slightly different terms: "heart, soul, and mind," "heart, soul, mind, and strength," and "heart, soul, strength, and mind," respectively. Now, I realize the differences are subtle, and Mark and Luke both say the same things in a different order, but they are different. And when the essence of the phrase is, "Love God with everything you have," it's easy to wonder if these components make up everything it means to be human. And further research into the original languages in which these phrases were written sheds some light onto the discrepancy: English (and Greek, for that matter) doesn't have the words to describe the original Hebrew text, so slight variations are represented based on who's writing it and in what language.

But the intrigue remains. What does make up a human? And the answer, for someone like me (OCD, science-minded, Christian foundation), it's clear that we're bound together by a multifaceted system, like the Holy Trinity or the Four States of Matter. And so, if we take the States of Matter approach, what if our strength (bones, muscles, tendons) is akin to "solids," our heart (hormones, neurotransmitters, basic emotions) is akin to "liquids," our mind (cortical thought, short-term memories, self-awareness) is akin to "gas," and our soul (that ethereal, immortal morality not bound to social constructs or genetic influence) is akin to "plasma?" And so, such extrapolation (i.e. going down the Wikipedia rabbit hole) naturally leads to all sorts of allegory and thought puzzles. Oh, what fun it is to dream!

LAST PARAGRAPH BELOW FOR NORMAL PEOPLE:

Like I said, cutting the distractions from my day has allowed me to get back to the things that bring me true joy: quiet contemplation, purposeful living, and totally normal ideas about what it means to be human. Week one has been a success. I'm thankful for the money I "wasted" on my education because it's made me the man I am today, and I'm thankful for Lent because, even though I will inevitably fail at some of it, my ultimate victory will be remembering who I am as a man (which, apparently, boils down to the various states of matter…). So, thanks for reading, y'all. You could have been doing a bunch of other things (and you probably wish you had), but hopefully my rambling forced you to have at least one thought of your own.

And maybe, just maybe, that thought will lead to a daydream…

#lent #lent 2020 #science and religion #science #states of matter #great commandment #daydream #daydreaming #free thinker #amreading #classical education #legally blonde #like it's hard

[wevegottogetaway]

A Meaning of Love

It’s been barely two months since Harry and y/n moved in together, and yet, they feel like they’ve never seen less of each other before. The past few busy weeks have forced their routine into a high tempo of quick morning encounters, even quicker lunch break phone calls and countless half-asleep take-out dinners (few nights ago, y/n had been that close to face-plant in her soup had Harry not tenderly rubbed her back and urged her to ‘finish your soup, love, befo’ I take yeh to bed’). 

By the time Friday finally rolls around, they are still both swamped in unfinished projects and boring paperwork that nobody really wants to sort out but that has reached its procrastination limit expiry date. And the worst is, even in the midst of this perpetual race against time, they still find some to miss each other and yearn for a quiet and relaxing evening.

Looking at the fancy clock in her office, y/n realizes it’s 7:26pm and she’s the only remaining worker on her floor (or probably all of them for that matter). Her head is throbbing and she has to read every sentence of the manuscript in her hands at least 3 times in order to get even the most remote idea of its meaning. 

Exhausted, she dejectedly throws the document back on her desk before leaning back in her chair and harshly rubbing her face with her hands. She finds herself thinking of Harry, counting how long it has been since they last shared a couple-y moment. She just misses it. The intimacy. The idle talk, the deep conversations, the laughter, the cooking sessions, the movie marathons, the other kind of marathons…just the time to share and simply be together. Recently, it’s been all about coordinating their schedule to the best time-efficiency possible and she absolutely loathes it. 

‘Fuck that’ she thinks as she starts gathering her stuff. When she’s done saving her work and turning off the computer, she makes her way to the elevator while pulling out her cellphone. In a matter of minutes she’s ordered food from Harry’s favorite place and is already on her way to pick it up. The frown previously etched on her face is finally morphing into a soft smile. She just wants to spend a casual evening with him, make him feel better after the hectic week they’ve had and maybe convince him to prolong said plan throughout the week-end too. 

Still at the studio, Harry thinks he’s gonna lose his last hanging nerve if he doesn’t figure out what in hell is missing in the bridge of his new song. It’s 7:35pm and he’s been playing the damn thing since 8 this morning but nothing’s working. The pressure and the fatigue have rendered him inspiration-less and simply left him in a slump. His head feels fuzzy, his thoughts are jumbled and no matter how much he puts his all in it, he knows nothing creative can spring out from stress and sleep deprivation. So he pauses the audio and turns to his fellow songwriters/musicians with a sigh. "Sorry guys, think we should call it a day. My brain’s fried anyway."

They all nod and make their way outside of the studio after sorting everything out. "Don’t worry, man, we’re gonna figure this out. It’s probably best we stopped now anyway, it’ll give us a fresh perspective coming Monday." Mitch tries to reassure his friend. 

"Hope so, yeah. I don’t know, I just…Righ' now, I just wanna go home an’ clear my head of everythin’."

"You’re right, it’s getting obsessive in there, and that’s never a good way to make music. ’S gotta be more natural than whatever that was" he says pointing his thumb back towards the building they just left.

"’S not just that though. Things are a bit crazy at the moment, an’ it’s like…I miss y/n in a weird way, yeh know?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, we just moved in together a few weeks back, right? But we barely see or have time fo’ each other. Her work’s keepin’ her busy as well...” It seems like he’s gonna add something so Mitch doesn’t interrupt his thoughts. “It’s like missing someone that is right next to you" Harry finally confides and it feels like some weight is being lifted off his shoulders with the confession. He’s been nurturing these longing feelings for a while now but had yet to express them out loud. 

"Tell ya what, Harry. It’s the week-end, take advantage of it, man.”

"Yeah, think ‘m gonna go get some food an’ maybe flowers. She’s been workin’ so hard lately, just wanna give ‘er a nice evening." It’s his turn to pick up dinner anyway Harry thinks, and there’s a flower shop right across from her favorite place. Maybe they could just take off for the week-end too. Go someplace tranquil and far away from the city’s hassle. 

That’s how half an hour later he’s finally pulling up on their street, take-away and sunflowers buckled in the passenger seat. Taking a long breath along with the rest of his purchases, Harry makes his way to the front door. When he finally enters their home, he’s immediately met with one of the most precious sight he could have hoped for: y/n in her sweats, humming to Here Comes the Sun as she gathers plates and cutleries to set the table. Harry feels already better and makes a bee line to his love with a wide smile adorning his lips. 

"‘lo, love. Missed yeh today."

She looks up at the sound of his voice. "Hey, you. How was your day?" But as she’s about to melt in his embrace, she realizes he’s carrying items of his own. "Wait, did you get dinner?" she asks somewhat worriedly. 

"Yep, I got yeh your favorite and these-" he hands her the bouquet, "are for you as well."

Now. When Harry imagined her reaction, he didn’t exactly picture y/n’s current expression. He’d thought maybe he’d be greeted with a ‘aww that’s so sweet’ hopefully followed by a kiss and the biggest hug in history. Or perhaps a blush creeping on her cheeks since y/n isn’t the best at receiving compliments and sweet gestures (getting her all flustered has become Harry’s favorite hobby ever since he realized that).

What he didn’t anticipate however, is the mystical look in y/n’s shiny eyes right now, like she was processing a hundred thoughts per second. She isn’t saying anything either. Just staring at him with love and wonder painting her irises. 

"Love?" Harry tilted his head slightly on the side in sign of inquiry. Then y/n just chuckled and took his cheeks between her small hands, completely bypassing the bouquet and take-out still hanging from his fingers.

"Thought it was my turn to get dinner," she smiled at the qui pro quo. "I got you your favorite too. And some poppies." That’s when Harry noticed the bag with his favorite restaurant logo printed on it, seating on the kitchen counter besides a vase full of freshly cut poppies (his favorite as well). 

Aligning his gaze back with hers, Harry awkwardly shifts around to place the food and the flowers on the counter by their side before engulfing y/n in a tight hug. His smile has grown tenfold and as he presses his forehead against hers, he thinks he couldn’t possibly fall deeper in love with her. So without further ado, he traps her lips between his and brings one hand to her neck. The kiss starts slow, eyes shut and hearts on the edge of imploding, savoring the moment. But then a small whine leaves y/n’s throat and it’s teeth colliding, breathed interweaving in-between, nose smudged against each other, and fingers kneading into heated skin. 

The break is sudden and filled with their erratic breathing. It’s the ridicule of the situation that sends them laughing: both of them buying dinner, the result of a simple miscommunication. It’s an honest mistake really, they’ll just reheat the second take-out tomorrow. But it’s also both of them going out of their way, out of their exhaustion to get something special for the other. The desire to make a little gesture because days are rough and as a team they get through that by uniting moral support forces. It’s the intimacy y/n was craving so much. The small details Harry knows about her and she about him, and the fact that even through the madness of it all, they always seem to go back in sync.

"I miss you so much Harry" y/n finally says while tucking her nose in the crook of his neck. She just wants to feel as close to him as possible, breathe him in, and never let go. And really, Harry’s not complaining. He just squeezes her tighter against him and presses his lips on her forehead for a moment.

"I love you, y/n. How ‘bout no work this week-end, hum? Just yeh an’ me, wherever you wanna be" his lips are still brushing against her skin.

"Please," is what she answers before leaning back to stare at his pretty face with a soft smile. "I love you too." 

➪ Masterlist

Hey guys, hope you liked that little piece. It is actually inspired by a true story; a so highly stereotypically French one, that I had to edit it for narrative’s sake. If you care to hear about it (no offense taken if you don’t!), prepare yourself cause I’m about to drop some serious French cultural knowledge on you. 

There exists two ways one French fellow can eat a baguette: there’s the well-cooked team who likes it golden and crusty (like my Mum), and then there’s the not-so-cooked team who likes it soft all over (like my Dad). The basics being now established, we may proceed with the real story.

One time, both my Mum and Dad were having such a busy day that they forgot to agree on who would buy bread for dinner (I did warn you it would be awfully French). They ended up both buying some, laughing at the situation once they met at home. But see, now when my Dad recalls this — in appearance — insignificant moment of their lives, he says that in that moment they’d made love to each other. Because when they got ready to eat, they realized that my dad had bought a well-cooked baguette for my mum while she had bought a not-so-cooked one for my Dad. And yeah, my Dad can be a hopeless romantic sometimes but he’s kinda right, isn’t he? Love is about putting the other above ourselves and making them feel special with the little things like giving up your favorite type of something just so your significant other can have it their favorite way. 

Anyhow, sorry if I bored you with my story (it is 3:52am as I’m writing, if you need some kind of explanation), I just thought it was something sweet to share. Please tell me what you think, I’d love to hear from you!

Take care xx

#Harry styles writing #harry styles one shot #harry styles imagine #fluff #Harry styles #creative writing #short and sweet #please tell me what you think

[choicesatnight]

To Do List

Title: To Do List

Pairing: MC (Vivian) x James

Rating: NSFW.

Word count: 2,435

My disclaimer: This character is owned by PB, I just enjoy some elaboration. I’ve never written with any other intention than to write about sex. In this story, I attempted to make the story about more than sex. Forgive me if it sucks. I am a work in progress. And trust me, sex is still the focal point. Lol. I’m still me. I really love James Ashton and I love Choices fanfics, especially nasty ass stuff but there isn’t much featuring my original bae, James Ashton from The Freshman series.

So, I decided to put my amateur ass talent to work and write with James being the *star of the story*

A/N: Lots of use of Daddy, some male dominance, female submission.

James has routine appointments with his barber to keep his facial hair groomed. The clean, masculine look he gets with a manicured patch on his chin completes his overall look and well, as the saying goes, "if it ain't broke then don't try to fix it." He's dedicated to his current look and will only deviate from it with Vivian's endorsement. Though massive blocks of time are aptly used between working on both a new play and a new book causing him to miss his last two appointments.

Sitting across James' legs as the both relax on the couch, Vivian scratches the hair on James' face that has become a full chin strap; connecting to his usually groomed sideburns, "I gotta get used to this." She doesn't love the look though isn't going to tell him for fear of offending him. What if he likes it? She thinks. "No, you don't. I gotta get to my barber. I've been busy working. Writing." He leans to the right reaching for his idle laptop. Vivian places her hand on his bicep to stop him

"Babe. No more working."

"Yeah. Yeah, you're right. Okay." He pushes the laptop further away and settles his hand on her thigh, taking a deep breath as if to clear the stress away.  

"Alright. I'm yours."

She laughs in a slightly dismissive way, knowing that work is still on his mind.

"Let me help you. We both write. Let's combine our genius" Smiling at Vivian, he pulls her to him until they are as close as possible and kisses her lips. She then kisses his chin, nose, forehead, and both cheeks.

"I don't know if this is helpful, but I do love kissing you."

"Oh, it helps. You spark creativity in me. Especially with your kisses." They kiss again, this time a little deeper before Vivian pulls away.

"We’re gonna sit at the laptop together later. I gotta go downstairs right now, though." She turns her head toward two tied bags sitting by the door.

"What's that? Laundry?"

"Yup. Undies, blankets, sheets – you know, bed stuff"

"Ooo sexy laundry" he slips his hand under her shirt attempting to slyly graze her breasts when she stands up, forcing his hand to withdraw.

"We'll both get stuck right here if you touch me there, and you know it." She straightens her top.

"What are you about to do?"

"Taking these bags downstairs for you, then I'll shower."

"I don't need your help. I got this." Vivian picks up both bags, holding them above her head as to show strength.  “See? Super strength.”

"Okay." He takes the bags from her and walks out the door.

By the time she catches up to him, he's already set both bags on top of the front-loading machines.

"You're such a gentleman.  Carrying my bags even after I deny help," he can sense the underlying anger in her tone.

"You shouldn't have to drag OUR laundry down here by yourself if I'm here. No matter how light in weight. I strive to do everything I can for you, but if you really don't want me to help, make it clear. Seriously clear."

"James, come here" she asks, although she doesn't wait for him to step toward her, grabbing his hand and gently pulling his arm encouraging him to come close enough to hold. Once he's close enough, she wraps her arms around him "I don't wanna fuss. I'm happy you do these things. I'd probably complain if I had a boyfriend who didn't help." He doesn't lean to kiss her, so she stands on the tip of her toes to reach his lips and kiss him. He kisses her back, though the kiss remains a short peck.

His silence isn't comforting. "Baby are you really mad at me?" her voice has a slight quiver to it as she waits in nervous anticipation for his response. He can't be mad; it was just a little attitude in a sentence, and she's tried to ease the tension.

"No, of course not. Why do you think I'm mad?"

"Silence."

"Oh. I was just listening to you. There's nothing to be mad about. I know how to handle your attitude."

Reluctantly believing him, she responds, "Okaay…" in a sing-song tone

Sensing her reluctance, "What can I do to assure you?"

"Why didn't you lean into my kiss? I know you knew I was going to kiss you."

"Vivian, you're turning nothing into something. I'll kiss you now. I'll kiss you all over."

"The lips will suffice."

He raises an eyebrow, "which set?"  She pushes his shoulder and he laughs, "Okay, but you walked right into that." She shares his laughter before their lips meet, for longer than the little peck they previously shared.

"Okay. I'm convinced. You still love me."

"I'll always love you" he kisses her again. "Even when you wanna be startin' somethin' for no reason"

"Closed mouths don't get fed."

"All you gotta do is give me that look, and I'll feed your mouth"

Smiling, "You're so damn nasty James" she reaches to push his chest although misses as he takes a step back, out of her reach. "You know what I meant, though."

"Yeah, you were explaining why you like to start sh-" she covers his mouth with her hand and interrupts him, "why I like to clarify things. I was explaining why I like to clarify things."

He laughs. “Okay. I stink, and those do too" pointing at the dirty laundry "I'll get clean while you wash those"

"Deal. Next time I'll see you with clean clothes in hand."

"And my body will be clean. Until then." He makes his short trek back upstairs to begin his shower.

 Though once inside the apartment, he plops on the couch and opens his laptop for only a moment before he shuts it, remembering Vivian's "No more work" decree. I can't even go against a simple thing; she probably wouldn't even get mad he thinks to himself as he stands up and heads into the bathroom.

He reaches under the sink for the Norelco shaver that Vivian bought for him. He shaves the top layer of his facial hair, leaving clean stubble for his barber to finish off. At least most of the hair is gone he thinks.

Stepping out of his clothes, he realizes he could've given his underwear to Vivian for washing.

"Damnit! Oh well." Realizing he says this loudly, he begins laughing, recognizing no one else is even around to hear him.

He's become visually aware of where to turn to the shower knob for the temperature that he and Vivian love to feel.  

Although the temperature is perfect, he feels stings as the water hits his back, particularly his shoulders. Causing him to remember when Vivian dug her nails deeply into his shoulders the last time he fucked her. The pain feels good, though. It invokes such a pleasant memory James is finding himself thoroughly aroused, but his girlfriend is downstairs doing laundry. His brain loaded with thoughts of her and memories of their sex, he wraps a hand around his stiff member and moves in a jerking motion back and forth. Though James does not usually moan, there's no one around. "Ohhh" he moans louder than intended, eager to release but hasn't gotten himself there yet. The sting of the water hurts so good he increases the speed of his jerking motions with one hand as the other roam his chest "Vivian. Fuck." He caresses his balls the way Vivian usually does before he abruptly stops. "I need her" he speaks before rushing to turn the shower off, pull on some basketball shorts and head downstairs to the laundry room.

Although he doesn't run, he jogs quickly enough that it seems as though he teleports to the laundry room staring at Vivian folding a freshly cleaned sheet. He's silent, admiring the back view of her body, visualizing what he's about to do to her. Turning to grab the bag of dirty delicates, she finally set eyes on James.

"James!" placing a hand on her chest, "You scared me. What are you doing here?"

There he stood. Topless and damp for rushing out of the shower. His intentions made evident by the bulge in his shorts.

"You already know." James is right. She knows. She immediately removes her top. Sticking a finger in a preexisting hole causes her leggings to rip until they're completely off as he bends her over the dryer. "Fuck, I need you Vivian "dropping his shorts and pushing himself into her from behind. His thrusts are rapid and her moans short in staccato with every thrust.

"Yes! Yes, James. Ohhh" he doesn't slow his pace. He's lost himself in the warm comfort of her pussy, and all else ceases to matter.

"There's a couple in there…you know"

In between Vivian's moans, James is able to hear the outside world when he realizes he didn't close the door! He can't stop now. Vivian has to finish. He pulls out of her and kicks the door shut when he gets on his knees to taste her from behind.

"Daddy, don't stop" He kisses her pussy the way he would her lips, and although he cannot see, her eyes begin to twitch as she continues to moan.

"Yes, James that feels so damn good" feeling his tongue stretch to her lips as he reaches to caress her tit.

The door burst open when James jumps up pulling his shorts with him. Vivian grabs a sheet to cover her naked body and stands up getting a glimpse of Shaun before fixating her eyes on the entryway.

Toolbox in hand, it's obvious that Shaun had recently worked in someone's apartment, and his tone of voice makes it clear that he's ready to go.

"You two were seen fornicating in here. I need you back in your apartment to avoid further action."

Vivian hugs the sheet to her body as she dashes out the door, briefly viewing Shaun's figure as she races out. James swiftly grabs the laundry bags and speeds out the door to catch up with his lover to no avail as she is already at their apartment door. He watches her walk in as he ascends the stairs to meet her.

"Damn babe, you left me pretty easily." But where is she? He looks around in the bedroom and does not see her. Closing the door behind himself, Vivian surprises him by walking, nude, out of the bathroom and pushing him up against the closed door to gather him into a deeply passionate, hungry kiss.  She moans as they're tongues dance together and he attempts to pull her closer, never feeling enough of her. Satisfied to be feeling her nipples erect against his skin, he allows his fingers to roam to her center, feeling warmth before immersing his them into her pool. Rubbing her pussy and down, drenched by her wetness, she can't help but to pull away from the kiss.

"Daddy…," she whispers, savoring the feeling of his fingers manipulating her insides. James kisses her body as he fingers her pussy, and she pushes his shorts down to the ground letting his length spring free.

"My pussy is salivating for your dick."

"I can feel it. I wanna taste it."

Walking her backward toward the bed until she falls to her back on the mattress, he crawls on top of her pushing her legs wide apart. In a matter of seconds, his tongue explores the inside of her walls, pushing his tongue in as deep as possible – flicking her clit in repetition.  Vivian feeling overwhelmed by this pleasure, wanting desperately to stay in this bliss tries to convince herself Don't cum yet, don't cum yet, don't cum yet. Her mantra proves no match for James' tongue, and she cannot fight her climax.

He growls, tasting her flow inside his mouth. "Mmmmm…. baby. I don't think I can stop." He licks her pussy lips

"Daddy you don't have to" she speaks in a soft moan, still enjoying James.  

He looks up at her "No?" and continues his makeout session…with her pussy.

She responds in moans, groaning gradually louder as he threatens to make her cum again.  But he stops. "Damn baby, your pussy tastes amazing.  Everyone needs that. Too bad I'm a stingy man, though.  That pussy is mine… Oh, and yours."

She's always loved his selfishness with her. It makes her feel wanted and belonged. Like a union. As she is a significant part of making something complete.

"Bring that ass to me."

She refrains from correcting him ("It's mine, I just share with you") by smiling, scooting to the edge of the bed and presenting her ass.

"Arch your back a little more baby, you know I'm tall. I'm tryna get deep in that pussy"

No words or sounds at all, she arches her back and excitedly anticipates the moment she will feel him. The anticipation doesn't last too long as she almost immediately feels the pressure of his entrance. She spreads her knees a little wider, feeling James' rapid thrust.

"Daddy, yes!" she screams in falsetto as he holds on to her shoulders – maintaining his position, pushing himself deeper into her. The slapping sound of their bodies meeting resonates in the room, fueling Vivian's' passion. She loves the soundtrack of their sex, and her enthusiasm shows when she starts to move back and forth, controlling his repeated entrance.

James loves it when she takes control though he'd never admit that. He's bouncing around in excitement in his mind. He has to play it cool though – at least that's what he tells himself.

He ceases movement to feel only her moving back and forth on his dick. "Throw that pussy back, girl" he encourages her to continue. Moving faster back and forth, her moans grow louder until she's screaming "DADDY" over and over. "Fuck, this pussy is so fuckin' good" his pushes himself deeper into her and with one last scream, she allows herself to fall on her stomach, forcing James' dick out of her in the process.

Catching her breath, "Amazing." She looks at James, who sits beside her on the bed and burst out laughing.

"What's so funny? I'm telling you that sex was amazing."

"Baby. We got caught" he laughs again, though this time she joins him in laughter.

"Yeah, yeah we did."

"And by that stupid ass maintenance man who's always looking at you. Now he'll know. Ha-ha!"

"Maybe he's looking at you, James"

"Either way. He knows we belong."

She kisses James lips, "Yup. He knows James. He knows…"

#JamesAshton #choices #NS*W #Freakyfics #the freshman series #daddy

[superheroshippinq-archive]

💗+ barry allen? -holtzships

TYSM FOR THE ASK !!! @holtzships ❤️

its speedy boyfriend time !!

Who fell for the other first?

-i think it was a sort of … mutual falling for each other ?? like at the same time ?? just pining for a REALLY long time after we became good friends. we were both unsure of each other’s feelings towards each other so we never really said anything … i was positive he liked iris, and he figured i only thought of him as a friend and nothing else. turns out we were both wrong 👀

Who said “I love you” first?

-I did !! i couldn’t help it. I had to get it off my chest, since being around him daily made those feelings WAY worse. then he said it back! it went way better than i anticipated … and all of team flash knew about our dumb crushes on each other except us and never said anything! and we still don’t forgive them! >:U

Who is more affectionate in public/private?

-I don’t know how it’s possible, but barry might be more affectionate than i am in public ?? like … he will just walk over and try to be next to me whenever he can and he will hold my hand and he will hug me randomly when im just working on something, and he’ll purposely pull me from my work to do it and i LOVE IT. that being said, i’m affectionate too. me and barry are both similar in the fact that we both really like to be held and/or holding each other.

Who initiates cuddle sessions?

-both of us, it really depends. if we’re idle at S.T.A.R. Labs or something, its usually barry. S.T.A.R. Labs has a lounge area on the bottom floor and that’s our favorite area to relax together if we have to stay at S.T.A.R. labs for whatever reason. on the other hand, at home, its usually me!! or we’ll both just kind of, naturally just .. get into a cuddle position haha. we’re both big softies that love cuddling. we will be grumpy if we haven’t hugged at least once in the past few hours.

How do we cheer each other up?

-i think i cheer up barry a little more frequently than he does to me. barry’s been through a LOT and it gets to him pretty often, seeing as we always have to deal with some sort of big bad and it never fills to dig up awful memories ( or alternate timelines … cough cough ). i’m a little better at taking in how he’s feelings than some of the others are. i’ll make sure to let him know that nothing is his fault and encourage him that he can power through whatever he’s going through. I love telling him everything i love about him when he’s lacking confidence. and he seems to really like when i tell him how safe i feel around him .. and kisses never fail to make him smile, so ,, in conclusion i adore taking care of him haha.

-on the flip side, if barry notices im tense or upset he’ll do little things he knows will make me happy. he’ll tell me a joke or invite me to work on something with him, or he’ll even cook for me or bring me gifts just so i’ll smile again, i SERIOUSLY don’t deserve him .. 

-and he’s very patient. he knows i’ll come to him if i do need to talk, i always do. and he’ll give me space if it need it too. and he’s so understanding about it all and never gets cross with me if i do get distant. he’s honestly the best.

Who is more likely to plan a surprise date for the other?

-barry, 100%. its never anything really big, but he’ll surprise me with dinner or something, or he’ll set up a picnic somewhere -- sometimes he’ll even get cisco or caitlin in on it and it gets me every time haha. i love it when he does but at the same time he spoils me way more than i deserve! 

Who suggests the more creative date ideas?

-neither of us are super creative when it comes to dates, but maybe barry gets points for this one because having superspeed can make for some very interesting surprises ... like ... being able to take me places across the country in seconds. that and, being able to somehow turn missions into dates. 

Who steals the other’s clothes?

-i steal barry’s clothes usually to sleep in but sometimes if it’s cold i’ll just ... casually swipe one of his jackets .. that are WAY too big for me .. lmao. wally will point it out every single time just to fluster me and im like ‘ ??? let me wear my boyfriend’s clothes in peace ??? ‘ >:U

-barry can’t fit my clothes LMAO but i do have a lot of snapbacks and he will wear them sometimes, usually backward, and he always looks SO GOOD IN THEM and i just ,, cry

Who is more likely to leave cute little sticky notes for the other to find?

-oof barry leaves them for me all the time, usually to remind me to eat or to tell me he went on a mission and he’ll be back soon, or just to ask me to do something for him before he gets back haha. sometimes he’ll do this thing where he’ll just run in and stick a note right next to me and leave even though HE WAS THERE AND COULD HAVE JUST TALKED TO ME. hes so ... infuriatingly cute. ugh. 

What our favourite thing to do during the summer is?

-summer actually isn’t too bad in central city. joe likes to have bbqs and other little get-togethers at the west house in the summer and we usually go to those!! we also love going out for smoothies because 1. they’re delicious and 2. they’re good for barry so he doesn’t cramp up or anything when he runs! ( because lets be real central city is in danger 99% of the time )

What our favourite thing to do during the winter?

-as soon as late fall/winter hits we’re doing very festive holiday stuff. winter isn’t as much of a cold season as it is christmas season to us, haha! we’ll go get a tree and decorate it and do other festive christmas-y stuff!! also movie nights, christmas movie marathons!! and you can never go wrong with hot chocolate ;)

generally though, central city is known for snowing in winter. im not too big in snow but barry will convince me to come build a snowman or something with him and of course i agree. we always end up going to joe’s and building one in his yard with wally and iris LMAO.

#THANKS FOR THE ASK YAY #this one was also long #i havent talked abt my ships in a while so im just talkative LMAO #speedy boyfriend #ship: my boyfriend is the flash #ask answered #f/o ask answered

[thehomierobbstark]

Movie Night

Ramen Recipe

Pairing: Erik Killmonger x Reader [#TeamErikDon’tDateWhiteChicks]

Prompt: A typical movie night turns into anything but.

A/N: Don’t ask me where I come up with this shit 😂😂😂 I just be horny as hell daydreaming and be getting creative AF. Been holding onto this idea for a few months now.

Warnings: 👇🏿👇🏿👇🏿 At the bottom

This is for all my lil cute ass black gorditas out there rockin back fat, belly rolls and thick ass thighs that touch!!  x Reader is always gon be black, chubby, and sassy if I decide to continue writing.

*Edit* This story belongs in the Teach Me AU after chapter 5 (chapter 4 & 5 have yet to be posted but there’s your timeline).

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ya Out Fit

“You… you made this?” she asks incredulously, face full of shock and disbelief, her cheeks poked out from the mouthful of ramen she was covering with her hand.  It was absolutely adorable, the way she looked right now.

Erik groans, dramatically palming a hand over his face and dropping his head back in faux annoyance. This was her fourth time asking him, AND she was just finishing her second helping. If she didn’t believe him by now, he didn’t know if she ever would.

“Yes, babygirl! This all me,” he laughs, watching her munch away on noodle and egg.

It was movie night at Erik’s tonight, except he usually never cooked; they always ordered out. This time, he’d insisted they sit down and eat an actual dinner, even going so far as to give her a scheduled time to arrive. Usually, she’d just show up whenever.

“Hey,” She says, throwing her hands up in defense. “All I know is, last time I saw you in the kitchen, Auntie Dee had just walked out with half her eyebrow missing.”

She steels her face against the oncoming grin, looking away to avoid his eyes.

Erik kisses his teeth, side eyeing her from his end of the table.

“Man, whatever! You always gotta bring up old shit. She ain’t even notice it.”

She drops her hands as the smile breaks through, nodding her head in concession as she remembers how unaware poor Auntie Dee was and how much shit they used to get away with when they were younger.

“You is mutha fuggin RIGHT!” she sings, laughing at her own joke before she’s able to finish telling it.

“You so fuckin wack,” he rolls his eyes at her, chest bouncing from his suppressed chuckles as he gets up from his chair. “Come on and put ya stuff in the kitchen cornball.” He commands, scooping his bowl and chopsticks up before grabbing both their cups.

“How you know I was done tho,” she verbally argues, but follows suit right behind him.

“Cuz, you are.” He states plainly, as if it was obvious.

“CUz yOU aRe,” She silently mocked him, mouthing the words and making a face at the back of his head while she padded into the kitchen. He was right, she was done, but he ain’t need to know all that.

“Don’t get your ass whooped, little girl.” He warns her, glancing back with a knowing face while he places the dishes in the sink.

Yeah, whateva nigga. She thinks, eyebrow twitching from the mental eye roll she does. She places her dishes in after him, flipping on the tap to start some dish water while she tucks her loose braids behind her ear. He turns it off immediately, shooing her away.

“Don’t worry about allat, I’ll handle this later.” He ushers her out of the kitchen, knowing how helpfully domestic she was whenever they hung out together.  

“Go pick out a movie and put it in, I gotta go grab something from upstairs real quick.” he says, leaving her in the living room near the couch while he dashes up the stairs to the second floor.

She waits a few beats, idling by the foot of the stairs while she listens to the sound of him moving around. She hears a door close, and slowly moseys her way back into the kitchen, turning the tap back on.

She never did like to listen much.

Once the sink was filled with soapy water, she busied herself, letting herself fall into the monotonous but comfortable task of washing the dishes.  She was so distracted and in her own head by the fifth dish, she didn’t realize that Erik had come back down stairs and propped himself against the wall, watching her.

“So I see we just out here doing whatever we feel like, huh?” His voice announces his presence, startling her a little bit.

She recovers smoothly, her answer rolling off her tongue easily.

“Always,” she says, rinsing a pair of panda decorated chopsticks off before smirking over at him, grinning wickedly.  Nobody could ever keep her from doing what she wanted, a fact they both knew.

“Well, since you wanna wash dishes so bad,” he says, taking slow steps towards her, face focused while a hint of something sinister lurks somewhere behind his eyes. “Go head and finish then.”

She studies his movements cautiously from the corner of her eye, knowing that he was notorious for surprise attacks of either tickling her until she collapsed or tossing her over his shoulder to body slam her on the couch.

He quickened his steps, and before she could fully remove her hands from the water to shield herself, he slides up behind her, wrapping his hands around her waist.

She reaches for him, but he grunts in disapproval. “Uh uh, put them wet ass fingers back in that sink. You not touching me with them hands.”

Y/N scoffs, grabbing the side of the sink while she shifts her weight to one foot. “Really, Erik.”

He ignores her, wrapping his fingers around her tighter and pulling her closer to him while his head slides in place next to hers.

“I said,” He leans in close, his lips grazing the skin in front of her ear, “finish those fucking dishes.”

Her heartbeat stutters in her throat, mouth going dry from the sudden intensity of his words. She looks down into the sink, seeing the remaining pot and cup left to wash.

Looking back up, she turns to face Erik when his head buries in her neck, pinching the thin skin behind her ear with his teeth, making her take in a sharp gasp.

“What I just say?” he asks darkly, and she freezes as she feels his rough fingers travel up to the dip in her back, pushing her forward gently to lean her over the sink, a silent command to do as she’s told.

She picks up the sponge, lathering it with soap as her mind splits focus between her task and Erik’s hands on her.

As she cleans the pot, he starts to knead small circles into her back with his thumbs, palms rubbing lovingly over her love handles as his hands travel up her back.

It was a comforting massage, helping to release tension she didn’t even know she was holding, and she slowly melted into his fingers.

When he reaches her shoulder blades, he leans down to place a soft kiss on her back, tugging the material of her dress down slightly with his index finger. With the little bit of access he gained, he sticks his tongue out and licks a delicious stripe up her spine, his fingers lacing into the braids at the base of her head to push them aside.

She tenses up again, back involuntarily arching as the cold air hits the warm trail of spit he left behind, making her shiver.

She’d stopped cleaning at that point, far too distracted with what he was doing to her to give a damn about the last cup in the sink.

Reaching the nape of her neck, he ends the lick with a firm bite on the space where her shoulder and neck meet, growling around a mouthful of skin at the breathy moan that escapes her lips.

Detaching from her, his hands find their way back around her hips, squeezing there before he speaks again, lips pressed against the shell of her ear.

“Meet me in the living room when you’re finished. Don’t keep me waiting.”

He lets go of her and steps away, reaching back to give her a swift pop to her ass.

He disappears around the corner into the living room, and Y/N takes a second to gather herself.

Tilting her head back, she blows out a shuddering breath, closing her eyes to reason with her body to come down from the intense rush of hormones that just spiked all over.

Looking back into the sink at the remaining dish, she turns on the water to rinse it off, not even caring if it was thoroughly cleaned or not. She didn’t even want to play with the idea of being late if it meant Erik had any more tricks up his sleeve similar to what just happened. She wasn’t sure if her underwear would make it.

She quickly placed the cup on the drying rack and dried her hands, taking a moment to smooth out her dress and ruffle her braids for a messy but cute look. She had an inkling that her look would probably be ruined by the end of the date anyway, but she could at least attempt to sustain it.

She rounds the corner to the living room, feeling her uncomfortably wet panties moving against her center as she does. Seeing Erik on the couch, she makes a mental note to sit on the opposite end and keep her legs crossed to keep the smell of her arousal from leaking out. She’d be mortified if Erik ever discovered just how turned on he’d made her with his little show in the kitchen. His ego didn’t need any more feeding than it already got on a regular basis.

She plops herself down on the couch, but she isn’t seated two seconds before Erik’s doling out commands again.

“Uh uh. Get your lil ass over here and come pick a movie out like I told you.” She rolls her eyes, kissing her teeth and popping back up to make her way over to the coffee table. He was being stupid bossy, and he had about one more time to be talking to her like that before they had a problem.

Y/N was so busy fussing in her head over Erik’s trifling ass that she didn’t realize the coffee table was weirdly pulled close to the couch, the six movie choices arranged in the center directly in front of where Erik was sitting.

Walking over, she stands perpendicular to both him and the table, looking at the small space in between where she was apparently supposed to stand to make her selection. If she did, her ass would be directly in his face, and with the short dress she was wearing combined with the current state of her cheeky underwear, that was the last thing she wanted to be doing.

Crossing her arms, she peeks over her shoulder to take a look at the options, but the table is incredibly low and her blind ass didn’t have her glasses on, making the titles on the DVD cases difficult to read.

She glances over at Erik to see that he’s watching her intensely, smug smile hidden behind his bottom lip tucked between his teeth.

“I ain’t got all day beautiful. Bend that blind ass over and choose one. I’m not gon say it again.”

Alright. This nigga was getting way too comfortable ordering her around and she was Over It ™.

She drops her arms and steps to him, ready to start cursing him out when he grabs her hips and spins her around, holding her with a firm grip right at the top of her thighs. Leaning forward, he nips at the back of her thigh, rubbing away the sharp pain with his thumb before kissing the sensitive area.

Dropping one hand down in between her legs, he lazily draws his fingers up the inside of her ankle, delicately digging his nails into her so she could feel them scraping against her skin.

When he reaches her knee, her mind snaps back to reality, and she opens her mouth to say something but he cuts her off.

“Erik -”

“I’m not stopping until you find something for us to watch. So get busy.” he says plainly, shutting down any argument she was about to make.

His nails scrape up past her knee, and Y/N reflexively closes her legs, the tickling sensation starting to become too much for her.  

His hand was trapped between her thighs at that point, and thinking him to be defeated, she bends over, placing both hands on the coffee table for leverage, leg muscles still constricted as she tries to scan over the movies.

She gets to the third title, looking it over when Erik pulls his hand from between her legs, moving quickly to flip up the skirt of her dress and grip both her ass cheeks to spread them apart.

She doesn’t even have time to reach back to push him away when he buries his face into her clothed crotch, nose digging sweetly right into her opening. He takes in a deep breath, inhaling everything she has to offer, and her knees go weak making her grip the edge of the table more firmly.

It lasts a few seconds, and when he’s done he opens his mouth, bellowing out a deep and satisfied groan as his hot breath centers right over her pussy, making her squirm around and clench, still helplessly locked in his grip.

Delirious now from the ecstasy of what just happened, she slaps the table, her hand landing on the cover of a random DVD she no longer cared the name of and holds it up, waving it blindly behind her to signal to him that she finally made her decision.

He gives a small grunt of acknowledgement, almost sounding disappointed, and darts his tongue out, sliding it through her slit to rub at her clit a couple times before retreating, tucking it back into his mouth and pressing a sweet wet kiss to the seat of her soaked panties, tasting her through the fabric.

Pulling back, he flips her skirt back down and take the movie from her, giving her a minute to catch her breath since she’d been panting and whining the whole time.

When she’s able to stand again, he smacks her on the ass with the DVD case, handing it back to her.

“Good girl. Now go put this in the DVD player and come sit in my lap. We ain’t finished yet.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I can actually give yall a bomb ass ramen recipe if you want it XD. I fuckin love ramen yo lmao.

Also RIP Blockbuster, we bringing them back for this fic :’D.

Warnings: Pre smut? Fondling, (Slight) Spanking, Above Clothes Touching

Tags:@kxnfuzed-blog-blog @sweet-epiphany85 @blackpantherismyish @huuniii  @wawakanda-btch @ljstraightnochaser@bearhuggingbaby@drsunshine97@hearteyes-for-killmonger@maliadestiny @lucidaquarian@theunsweetenedtruth@sicksadgen@louisdimuccis @blackchunkyqueen @ash-moneyy@blowmymbackout @buttercup812 @minkyomom  @softnani @curls-and-crosses @lunaerly @lovemekaycee @uhlxis @blackgirloneshots@thecaptainofamerica @wakandas-vibranium @teheeboo @scrumptiouslytenaciouscrusade@whorderofthepheonix@youreadthatright @killmongerdispussy@cawifornia @tchallamakesmeh0lla @siriuslycollins @panthergoddessbast  @blue-ishx@shesfromwakanda@hearteyes-for-killmonger@amethyst1993@bartierbakarimobisson @whoramilaje @muse-of-mbaku@eriknutinthispoosy@wakandas-vibranium @wakanda-inspired @thickoreo@allhailnjadaka@wifeyofnjadaka @hidden-treasures21 @killmvnger@sicksadgen @tgigoldie@killmongersgurl @princessstevens @beautifulqueenflaws @cocooned-butterfly@chaneajoyyy @ange-sensuel@laketaj24 @chasingsunlight @vikkidc@shadowkissedprincessofheart @wakanda-inspired  @taint3dvirgin @blackpinup22

#a part 2.....can be done.....should it be requested.... #erik killmonger #erik killmonger x reader #erik killmonger x black!reader #TheHomieFics #bp #black panther fandom #black panther fanfiction

[enkisstories]

Last Chance, Daniel

The DPD’s archive.

November 2038.

After a failed revolution.

The first thing Daniel saw upon reactivation was… well, the opposite wall. But there were noises below him and so the android lowered his head. He spotted a male human rummaging through the stored evidence. The man wore a greasy leather jacket, a confident, yet somewhat world-removed expression that suggested he was at least tipsy, if not dead-drunk, and he was humming to himself:

Boot hill boot hill / So cold so still

There they lay side by side / The killers that died

In the gunfight at OK Corral…

Daniel recognized the tune, even though it was almost as mangled as his body. He had streamed the song for Emma a lot when she had been in her cowboys-and-indians phase. The girlchild had loved western movie title songs and at one point the deviant had learned to sing them together with her.

It was all coming back and with a force that made Daniel want to scream. At the world, at himself and especially at the burglar who had the audacity to mock Daniel and the other androids that were hanging side by side from the wall, helpless (if not downright dead). And of course his deviant brain would have its way again, regardless of what its owner wished. The best Daniel could do to channel his anger and pain was…

“Oh my dearest one, must I lay down my gun /

or take the chance of losing you forever /

Duty calls / My back’s against the wall!”

…he almost shouted the lines, then managed to stop.

Ugh. That was undignified.

The burglar turned around. Tilting his head he gazed at the android as if watching an exotic bird. Eventually the corners of his mouth turned up in slow motion.

“Yes to all of that, I s’ppose. ‘specially the last part”, he said, grinning.

And then he returned the tune:

“Have you no kind word to say / Before I ride away?”

Daniel snorted.

“Wrong person for that!” *

“Not even a person”, the man gave back. “Now that was strangely fun”, he concluded. Then he stood idle for some moments, as if trying to remember what he had come into the archive for.

“Ah, right.”

The next thing Daniel saw was the man holding his hand. It was attached to Daniel’s arm, but the arm wasn’t attached to Daniel. And that was a definite drawback when dealing with potentially crazy strangers.

“Give that back at once!” the android shouted. “It’s not yours!”

The demand prompted no reaction whatsoever.

“I said give it back! Hey! I’m TALKING to you, MORTAL!”

“Soon, soon”, the human muttered.

Whistling something Daniel didn’t recognize he continued looking around, most likely in search for easily carriable valuables. And the song was probably none that little girls liked to sing. It was probably something that wasn’t even fit to be heard by little girls.

Daniel continued to look down on the monkey doing monkey things. He saw him unfasten something from his belt.

“What are you doing now?!”

The man waved with the item he had just taken. It turned out to be a set of manacles.

“Handcuffing you.”

What kind of burgler brought his own pair of manacles with him, Daniel wondered? It was astonishing and almost as unsettling as watching the man cuffing together his wrists while said wrists were laying on a table. Only after that was done did the human hit the switch that would lower Daniel down from the wall. Why would he do that? What was going on here?

Daniel’s internal clock told him that only a handful of days had passed since his second encounter with Connor. What if the app was corrupted? What if in truth many centuries had passed and he was facing an archaeologist who was searching the DPD’s ruins for historic artifacts? Nope, not an archaeologist, make that a graverobber.

Before Daniel could lose himself in even crazier theories he felt his feet touch the ground. His actual feet! The sensation was followed by a jolt in the joints where said feet had gotten re-attached mere moments ago. And then two more jolts when the human rammed Daniel’s dislocated arms back into their places.

“Ouch!” he screamed. “Be careful, you oaf! That HURT!”

“Liar. Androids don’t feel pain !”

“Yeah, sure, feather-brain. Ever got four demands for tax arrears at the same time? The sensation is similar.”

“You pay taxes?” the man wondered, confused. Android tax was a European thing and a very recent one, too. The android in question seemed to have been here for some time now. He would not have had fallen under any taxation law in life.

“Yes, of course!” Daniel replied. “What do you think “PL600 household assistant” means? Me sweeping the floor?”

Now the man blinked. He was suddenly looking like a boy who had opened his Christmas present and found a textbook on Social Studies instead of the wished-for army knife inside.

“You do not sweep?” he asked. “But I was… kinda… counting on that!”

“You’re not making sense! But how could I expect that from a rabid lemur…”

The fifth tax claim hit Daniel in the form of a smack into the face.

“Something that could be replaced by a pocket calculator should keep its trap shut!”

The man showered the captive with more insults, but inwardly he relaxed. So this particular deviant had gotten creative with its master’s tax declaration, big deal. There were worse monsters in here, actual killers. A frightened, non-threatening PL600, now that was something he could work with.

“Okay” he said, “I’ll release the security locks now. Prepare to stand upright on your own.”

Daniel nodded. “…’kay.”

Moments later he felt the not-pain-but-as-bad sensation again. His damaged legs failed to carry the android, but the human grabbed him. The man was protecting his own interests, of that Daniel was certain, despite not knowing what in hell those interests might be. But still… it was the first time someone had steadied the android. The very first time. Daniel had only ever been there for others. For the most part he hadn’t minded that. Now the deviant got a taste of what it might feel like the other way around. Ha, that would be the day! If life was give AND take! But it wasn’t. Never had been, never would be.

“And I TOLD YOU to stand upright!” the human yelled.

“So what?” Daniel shot back. “Tell the clouds to open and rain down money, or, better yet, brains on you! Then see if they heed your request or not!”

“Oh, shut up already!”

Noticing the captive’s defiant stare the human tried to focus. His efforts resulted in him burping a lot, wiping sweat from his forehead and narrowing the number of androids he was talking to down to a single one, regardless how many outlines he was seeing merging in and out of each other. Eventually he said: “I mean it. Don’t make any noise while we ascend or it will be both our undoing!”

“Naturally”, Daniel agreed, in a quieter voice.

Whatever was going on here, fate seemed to have handed him another chance. A chance in the form of a criminal stupid enough to break into the deepest layer of the DPD, but on the other hand also a cunning criminal: he had managed to break onto the DPD’s deepest layer, after all.

*

The men were walking up the stairs now, but their progress was slow and ever so often one of them would pause and reach for a halt, any halt. At first it seemed Daniel with his hands bound in front of him would have the harder time of the two, but the plastic rings came in handy for catching onto stuff. Besides, the PL600’s natural agility and dexterity were impressive. It was the human who was struggling.

Whenever they grabbed each other by accident, they tumbled and lost a little of their progress. After a while Daniel noticed that the human was limping; not just being shaky from drunkenness, but having actual, physical trouble walking.

“How…?” Daniel asked, pointing towards the human’s legs with his eyes alone.

The answer was equally short: “Connor.”

“Ah, so. Same here.”

They managed to conquer some more steps.

The man burped. “You and me both, plastic-buddy…”, he said.

So the thug had survived an encounter with RK800, the “Negotiator”. Daniel wondered what that meant, in real life. Was the RK considered so uncannily competent that it got assigned to high-profile crime only? Or was it to the contrary treated as a limited device that only got to deal with the small fry? Which of the two applied to the nervous little meerkat that was stumbling along next to Daniel? What exactly was he dealing with here in his unlikely companion?

*

Daniel reached the landing first. Despite not being able to see it from here, he had a general idea where the exit might be located and headed for it, followed by the human. They hadn’t made it even halfway through the first corridor when the man opened a door and pulled the android inside. It turned out to be a men’s locker room with attached toilet stalls and showers.

“What’s the matter?” Daniel whispered. “A guard?”

“I hope not!”

“Then why are we hiding in here? Don’t we make our escape now?”

“What? No! Why would we?” The man locked the room from the inside, un-cuffed Daniel and pointed at a sink. “Clean yourself! There’s a chance the nightshift will spot you!”

“Not if we’re quick!”

“You will need to be quick indeed, cleaning up the mess left behind by the party.”

Daniel’s head shot forth a few inches, eyes widening at the same time.

“What party?”

The man sighed. “Yes, that’s exactly what we do not want the Captain to ask tomorrow”, he said.

He wiggled his fingers in front of the tap to get the water running and pointed towards the sink again. Realizing that playing along was his only chance to learn what he had gotten into – without having contributed anything to it, mind you – Daniel collected some water in his hands. For cooperating he got handed soap, a brush and some backstory:

“The others ganged up on us, Anderson and me. Just because we’d gotten into an argument!”

Daniel was positive that he was getting the hang of this particular primate now. Therefore he parsed the sentence as: “So you and this Anderson guy were brawling?”

“What I said! The cowards abandoned the ship, leaving us to do the cleaning and to getting an earful from Fowler when it isn’t finished in time. Picture that! As if we were living in some goddamm fairytale!”

Daniel shook his head and hands like a dog before burying his face into a towel. It felt good to move his limbs again, even if they were screaming Last Exceptions and in one case a notification about the android’s ads database not being current back at him.

“Let me get this straight: you fetched yourself a sleeping Prince Charming from the DPDs evidence archive so he would clear away the mess you left behind while partying in the station?”

“Yeah! That’s what I said!”

“Okay… okay… I believe you. But wouldn’t that mean you are… are you… No, you cannot really be an officer of the law?”

“Am, too! And well on my way to Sergeant!”

“Uh… at your age you should be Lieutenant already.”

In retrospect Daniel should have known better than to say that. Of all the things he had tossed at and would still say to the man in the future, this was the worst and the one he would come to wish he could take back. But that night in the locker room there was no apologizing. The human advanced against Daniel and when the deviant ran out of space to retreat into his attacker raised his fists in anger. Daniel blocked the impact in a sudden surge of whatever substituted for adrenaline in his system and shoved the other man back.

“I am the best detective in this city!!!” the officer shouted.

“I don’t believe you.”

“I don’t care.”

“Badge!”

“Oh, for the love of… here!”

“Wow. That’s…” Daniel bit back what he was going to say, following up with “impressive” instead.

So his new acquaintance was a detective for real. Who would have thought! The man’s badge said “Gavin James Reed” and he seemed to be a person of the special kind of lazy who would put in four hours of work to avoid three. Going through all the trouble to sneak an android out of the archive, patch it up and clean it… it sounded like a neat story to use out for an anti-drinking campaign. But it also destroyed all of Daniel’s hopes of getting away from here without breaking someone’s skull, so for the time being the android concentrated on getting himself washed.

“See?” detective Reed commented on the process, obviously pleased with himself for his “cunning” alcohol-induced plan. “If you’re washing it off you’ll look like a normal used PL600.”

“Only if by “normal” you mean one that gets beaten on a daily basis!”

Gavin shrugged.

“Fact of life. Deal with it!”

Under the ever watchful eyes of the detective Daniel filled a bucket with hot water and gathered rags and assorted cleaning detergents. All this stuff would come in handy as improvised weapons, but not quite yet. Right now the deviant was feeling too sluggish and the human was still too much awake for a confrontation to go Daniel’s way.

*

Since there was nothing he could do at the moment, Daniel started to clean. A part of him felt good about the task, that was the part of the sheltered upper-class servant who held this profession in high regard. But the other part, the one that still bore a seething hatred for Captain Allen and his louts, would not have any of that. That part insisted that Daniel had no business serving the killers. What had they celebrated, even, that evening? Someone’s birthday?

The answer was a definite No, Daniel realized when he beheld the photographs on the wall. More like the opposite. Each and every of the pictures was surrounded by a black ribbon, suggesting the faces portrayed no longer belonging to living people.

The so-called “party” had in truth been a small, informal service for a number of fallen police officers. All of them were victims of the deviant crisis. The human victims, at least, because otherwise a lot more pictures would have been needed and Daniel’s own would have hung among them. But it didn’t, despite the names and faces dating back as far as august.

Yes, there they were, the cops he had killed himself. They were staring down on him in a reverse of how Daniel had hung from the archive’s wall up until today, accusing him silently. And no amount of saying “I’m sorry” could bring them back to life. Worse: No amount of actually feeling sorry could return them to life.

Under normal circumstances the deviant could have handled the situation in a mature fashion. But in his current condition that was too much to ask for. All will to fight, even verbally, left Daniel. Mechanically he went through the motions of his task, the only thing that justified his continued existence at the moment.

Not that Daniel would have wanted to die, no, never that. If pushed he would still push back, about that there couldn’t be any doubt. But every notion of deserving happiness or the right to defend himself against humiliation both in speech and action seemed just plain wrong while the deviant was toiling under the portraits. Every part of him that was deviant and capable of feeling was full of guilt. Only embracing his machine-nature offered a little relief of that pain, like a dark birthright.

Meanwhile Gavin Reed was slowly sinking from sitting into laying position as he succumbed to sleep on a bench next to the vending machine.

*

When Gavin woke up the android was missing. There was little left to the imagination: it had run away.

“Phuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck…”

The man rolled from the bench he had squatted on, landed hard on the floor, caught himself and then made his way towards the reception hall, first wobbling on shaky knees, then gaining more and more control over his movements. It wasn’t just the alcohol, not having woken up from an uncomfortable position, but still the aftermath of his fight against that blasted RK800 earlier this month.

Damn thing could have shattered both my knees… Good riddance, I say! And to think Anderson suggested we should include Connor in the eulogy… that nerve!

Hopefully ST300 had seen the deviant leave and especially what direction it had taken.

*

Gavin found the missing android in the reception hall, still cleaning. Its movements were different now: slower overall, shoulders sacking and head lowered. A human by this time would be tired, of course. But a machine wouldn’t lose energy that fast, right? So what had caused the change?

Common sense suggested that internal damage had brought the PL600 to the verge of shutting down, but its body language conveyed that this wasn’t the case. Instead the thing now reminded Gavin of Hank Anderson. Something must have happened while Gavin had slept, something that had sucked all the sass out of the deviant, leaving only a husk and a shaky will to survive.

“’morning, detective”, it said when it noticed the human approach.

Then it flipped the broom around its wrist ever so casually, but with a skill that made Gavin wince. Only when the android fingers grasped the stick again did it become apparent that it was lacking in physical power and not just due to its injuries. Gavin let out the breath he had held. It was good to know these things had at least some weaknesses.

The deviant now was pointing at something on the floor with the broom:

“There’s a heap of biowaste over there. What am I to do with it?”

Gavin looked at the thing that was pointed out to him. It was a human body, smelly and in disarray. A middle-aged man in street clothes, who had passed out next to a bench.

“At first I thought it was an escapee, but given the standards set by you its probably your captain”, Daniel said. “So I was waiting for your judgement before doing anything about it.”

“Meh, just leave him be and sweep around him. He’ll come to his senses soon enough.”

“I’m finished here…”

“Sweet!” Gavin stretched and laughed out loud: “That will teach them trying to outsmart me! And now…”

And now two things happened simultaneously: Hank Anderson started stirring on the floor and the door opened for Tina Chen and two other officers of the morning shift to enter. Tina overtook them while they chattered, closing in on Gavin to say Good Morning (and thus be done with her socialization needs for the first half of the day). Doing so Tina nearly stumbled over Lt. Anderson, who was looking her legs up rather interested.

“Barbara…?”

“No, Sir!” Tina replied.

“Ah, okay. Sorry.”

Hank now heaved himself upwards. When he had ended up in a sitting position the man took a break from the ordeal. His gaze fell on Daniel.

“YOU are NOT Barbara”, he ventured.

“Yes, Sir. I mean, No, I’m not Barbara.”

“Uh-huh...” Pause, then, with some consideration: “Then WHO are you?”

Gavin went “Oh, crap…”, then he waved his hands about. “Look, I can explain!”

Daniel shot him a curious glance. “How many times have you gotten yourself into trouble by starting with this line, Sir?”

“Not all the time!” Gavin snapped. “Sometimes it works! Also – not your concern!”

Hank looked from one to the other.

“I take it you know each other?” he asked.

Detective and android exchanged a glance: “Quick, dipshit – do we know each other?”

Then two subtle nods – so subtle that only a very experienced police lieutenant might be able to notice them - told the other that this might be for the best indeed at the moment.

“Use your fucking brain, maaaan”, Gavin started. Outwardly this was directed at Hank Anderson, while in truth the man was desperately trying to think of a backstory for the PL600′s being here. “I simply… drove… no, phoned, home and… called over my android? To clean up the mess you left behind? Ha!”

“Wow. That’s a mess of an android… cleaning up our mess”, Tina said.

“What do you expect?” Hank said. “It’s Reed’s android! Of course it’s not smelling like roses.”

At long last Daniel saw his opening, wide and inviting. As long as he had still a tiny bit of mental strength left to him, he had to use that! Strangely, interacting with the obnoxious meerkat just now had granted Daniel exactly the push he needed. And that energy boost hadn’t even come out of hatred for detective Reed. To the contrary, this particular human’s presence seemed to have a positive influence on the deviant. Maybe because it was always good to know that there was someone even worse than yourself. If their situations had been reversed, Daniel would be the lieutenant now, while Gavin would…

Oh my god, I do not want to imagine how royally HE’d messed up in my place.

And so Daniel turned to his “master” and said: “As I said, Mr. Reed, I’m finished here. I’ll be going home now. See you for dinner!”

“No, no, no, no, no!” Gavin grabbed the deviant by his upper arm, squeezing hard right at where the limb had gotten re-attached the day before. “You’re staying!” Because, after all, it was still a criminal, a piece of evidence and it going missing would get Gavin in even deeper trouble.

“Look”, one of the morning shift officers, detective Laura Pauls, addressed Gavin, “no one’s complaining about the occasional fleabag you are keeping under your desk until it’s strong enough to get the snip-snip and adopted out. But an android? That’s a bit much!”

“I wasn’t planning to keep it as a pet”, Gavin snapped back. “But, see, you losers keep complaining about me never tossing anything into the kitty. Want my android, maybe? I was going to throw it away, but it might still be good enough for the station!”

And one day when no one’s looking I’m going to put it back quietly, saying it broke down. Problem solved.

“Thowing it away?” That was coming from the one called Anderson. “No way! You cannot announce you have an android one moment and throw him on the trash the next! Not even you can do that! We’ll keep it!”

Daniel felt an arm go around his shoulder and grabbing. He also felt uncomfortably adopted.

“What’s his name anyway?” Hank asked.

“Name? You mean the sardine-tin’s…?”

Having listened with only half an ear, Hank smiled encouragingly at Daniel.

“Welcome to the DPD, then, Sardines!”

 Note: * Especially considering what the next line would have been. In the song, I mean, not in the movie. Look it up!

#sims4 detroit become human #detroit become human #dbh daniel #dbh gavin #non sims #text post #sims4 dbh partone #dbhtextpost #sims4danielgavin

[onestowatch]

Garçons Music’ Is Boundless in Creation and Direction, but the Funk Is Real [Q&A]

It’s difficult to classify the genre-explorative sound of the Ottawa-based group Garçons – which is kind of the point. Their music is felt as well as heard, weaving in and out of genres with little resistance and pure finesse. The emerging duo, comprised of musicians Deelo and Julian Strangelove, are fans of originators, artists who are not afraid to stand out: James Brown, Nina Simone, Pharrell, Outkast and Erykah Badu. To no surprise, the unquantifiable characteristic that made the aforementioned artist who they are today is the spear-head of Garçons musical profile; no barriers or stipulations, just music that makes you feel.

Garçons first surfaced with their single, “Numba One” released in May of 2018. Incorporating crisp claps, subtle steel-drum patterns and bright vocals, the eclectic duo revels in an island-like energy. The vibe-teaming sound is a resounding and deceiving introduction into a group whose musical facet goes way beyond one style. Before the single’s release, Garçons shared a brightly colored, charismatic video that successfully aided in introducing the dynamic duo to the world.

A month would pass until Garçons released their second single, “Little Things.” Best described as a sonic embodiment of a disco ball, the duos follow-up record reintroduces the neon-lit roller rink energy of the disco era. This revolving carousel of sound reaffirms the groups commitment to originality and standing out. The obvious familiarity with a wide range of genres expressed on their second single made the anticipation for their third single incredibly grueling.

Switching things up, Deelo and Julian Strangelove decided to slow things down for their third and final single, “Pink Dress.” Focusing on the rosy felicities of love, Garçons paints a mesmerizing picture atop glittery production and soulful serenading. The group’s image-invoking performance, dedicated to “the angel in the pink dress,” is yet another incredibly successful showcasing of their musical range and ability.

Garçons debut EP, Body Language, was shared a few short weeks after their final single in late July of 2018. The debut begins with the aforementioned singles sequenced in the order of their release, each record becoming reborn amidst the 26-minute exhibition. To no surprise, the thematic ideals of originality that birthed the previous releases are fully present throughout the rest of the debut.

“Fly Solo,” the seven-track EP’s halfway mark, is a departure from the groovy arrangements of its predecessors. Deelo uses this gleeful medley-interlude to recount a magical night of bliss, infatuation and future charm. This brief moment of idling preps the stage for the debut’s following record “Hang with Us,” a soft and subtle jazz-infused, bass-thumping production that rides in tandem with the welcoming attitude of the song’s subject matter.

The second to last record on the seven-track EP is none other than the body-rocking orchestration of “Take It Slow.” Backed by Pharrell-reminiscent production and sexy lyricism, Garçons come together to effectively turn up the temperature for its listeners. This masterful concoction is without a doubt the steamiest record on the debut comprised of piercing falsettos, soulful scatting and rumbling bass.

Garçons close their stellar introductory debut with “Morning,” a funk-filled lo-fi ballad that leaves a lingering sweetness. This light-hearted closer brings an end to an incredible body of work. Body Language is a towering affirmation of Garçons’ ideals: be original. The powerful pairing of Deelo and Julian Strangelove is one we are beyond excited to watch flourish.

We had the pleasure to catch up with Garçons about being human, the making of Body Language, and their fanboy love for music.

OTW: First, thank you both for taking the time, I’ve been really excited to catch up with you guys. Let’s start at the beginning, how did you two meet one another?

Garçons: It happened pretty naturally. We were both doing our own things in the beginning and then somehow the universe just brought us together and it’s been dope ever since (laughter).

OTW: It really be like that, for those new to your music, what would you tell them about it?

Garçons: Don’t think, just take it in. We’re not trying to do anything, not trying to be anybody or make people think, it’s up to them. If they take something from the music - whatever that may be - like a certain type of feeling that’s great. We are happy as long as they feel comfortable that’s what’s awesome.

OTW: Well the music is super eclectic, who did you guys listen to that helped shape your artistry?

Garçons: We are both big lovers of James Brown, Nina Simone, Frank Ocean, Outkast, Tribe Called Quest, Pharrell, Bob Dylan and Erykah Badu.

OTW: I find that so cool because not only can you hear those influences in the music but it sounds, at least from what I gather from the music, like they also influenced your decision to remain creatively open minded.

Garçons: For sure! I think if you list all those artists that’s something they definitely share in common. It’s just about being weird, being original and not being afraid to be weird honestly.  

OTW: What do you want people to know about you two?

Garçons: We’re just two very normal guys and hopefully people can relate to that. Just be human we’re not special or anything we’re just having fun making music.

OTW: Jumping into the music you guys recently released a new music video for your single, “Froggin,” and before that “Pedigree.” Could we take the new visuals as a sign that new music is on the way?  

Garçons: Yeah! We are going to put out another EP - seven songs again - in September sometime and “Pedigree” and “Froggin” are the first two singles. We are hoping those songs represent us coming to terms with our own originality. With the previous project you can see influences on every song and with this one we are really trying to create our own sound, so hopefully those first singles are a good example of that.  

OTW: Speaking of Body Language, was there anything you were listening to on the side while making it?

Garçons: That one was special because that was the first time we ever really took the time to work together - we pretty much wrote all those songs in a month in my apartment. The cool thing about it was that there was no Wi-Fi for most part so couldn’t listen to music but it was pretty cool (laughs). It’s hard to pinpoint anything, it’s just everything we were individually listening to at some point mixed in and what came out we thought was dope - stuck with that and just tried to push that sound further and further.

OTW: Being that both of you have experience in production and recording, what was that process like?

Garçons: It’s pretty much back and forth whatever each of us can add to the song at the time we work on it and sometimes he records himself sometimes I record him sometimes he will play an instrument and sometimes I’ll do it. It’s more than me making a beat and he just recording on it. It’s really a process -- sometimes it’s slow sometimes fast but it’s never the same - I know a lot of artists say that and it sounds cliché but it really is that way (laughter).

OTW: Besides the new EP that is on the way, should we keep our eyes out for anything else from you guys?

Garçons: A lot of those songs on the upcoming EP will have videos for sure. In terms of tour and all that stuff not really at the moment. We are playing a lot of shows in Toronto and Ottawa and in September we will be in Montreal for the first time. We are very excited about that but right now we are just trying to take it day by day - going with the flow. Really just excited to have people see and hear the new stuff we have coming out.

OTW: Alright last question, are there any artists you are listening to right now that we should know about? Who are your Ones To Watch?

Garçons: Burna Boy! We are opening for him next week - it’s going to be awesome. Love the new Blood Orange stuff personally and Steve Lacy. We are listening to a lot of our own music at the moment though (laughter) since we are in the process of mixing it but obviously keeping an eye out for other music dropping. Our ears are always open, we love hearing new music and seeing new artists come up and we are both such fanboys - we know so many artists and songs by heart and just big fans of everything.

#garcons #interview #new artist discovery #soul #indie

[angiejoywrites]

my social media experiment

Welp, here we are. I’ve been on a journey the last few weeks, one that has held significant meaning to me, and I’d like to share it with you. This is a conversation I feel needs to be had, has not been had often enough, and is worth our time and critical thinking. I’m calling it my social (media) experiment, because, though it has been about social media, on a very obvious and practical level, it has been about so many other things at the same time. I desire all of life to grow and shape me, pulling and gleaning out of each experience that which it has to offer. This has been an intentional abstinence, therefore I’m thinking intentionally about its implications. So often in life, we do things by rote or habit, simply because we’ve gotten used to doing them, without much forethought or ongoing thought about whether we want something as part of our Iives, and frankly, whether it is doing us any good.

This is the season of Lent, a time when many people abstain from or add something to their routine in an effort to connect more fully with God, as a way to reflect on and participate, in some small way, the death of Jesus by the cross. We want to know, in some deeper sense, what it means that God gave His life for us, recognizing there was a significant sacrifice being given through Jesus’ life and death. Lent has been the season leading up to Easter that Christians have, for centuries old, turned and quieted their hearts to the divine.

This year during this season, I’ve sought this end, in part, by turning off the social media. I use Facebook the most, but my other socials I’ve turned off as well. I’ve checked it a handful of times throughout Lent, about once a week. I would say I’ve used social medial pretty consistently for many years now, with no significant breaks in use. First off, let me just say, there is nothing particularly heroic or noteworthy about this action. I fully realize this there are much bigger “fish to fry” in our world and whether or not I’m using social media doesn’t matter to anyone else as much as it does to me. But I want to share what I’ve learned throughout this process and what I feel is worth our examination. Social media has become so ubiquitous in our culture, we can scarcely imagine our lives without it. Something that ingrained is worthy of some consideration, in my view. Much could be said, from a number of perspectives. My aim here is for us to THINK. To think maybe just a little bit more critically about how we use these tools. I’m processing as I write, and speaking to myself as much as anyone else. I’ve thought about many of these ideas before, but having had this concerted period of time to unplug, it’s brought much of it to a head for me, and solicited realizations I knew to be true.

I intend for this to a conversation; ongoing, nuanced, multi-faceted. I am not attempting to explore this topic from every angle and perspective; that could be an entire book. This is just a beginning point, and hopefully a point of reflection for you as well. As I’ve heard said before, take what serves you. Leave the rest.

So, some initial reflections.

It’s hard to believe, I know, but this entire time, the world kept moving. The earth kept spinning, the days turned into weeks, and nothing fell apart because I wasn’t online. People continued to lead their lives and so did I. Social media has instilled many false beliefs in us, one of which is that we will miss something monumental if we aren’t online constantly. That whole FOMO (fear of missing out) business. Do I really need to know where you went to dinner tonight? Do you care about what I did today? No, not really. Maybe if you’re my mother, but if you’re anyone else, you don’t care. You may like me, or not. We have some level of connection, or knew each other at some point in this life, or whatever the case may be. But chances are, very few people on your social media friend list are people you interact with in real time, face-to-face, on a regular basis. Somehow we just used to have friends and family, some near and some far. And those we were closest to, we found ways to connect with in meaningful ways.

I truly do believe social media has lied to us. It’s all supposed to be about connection, right? But we believe the falsehood that we are more connected, better connected, more apprised of life and the world at large through these mediums. It’s told us we can discover something meaningful and lasting through a screen and a photo. We’ve gotten so used to thinking it’s better to share our lives on this bigger scale, for more people to see and absorb. But why? Is it truly a better way, than, say, sitting across from someone in honest conversation? True connection engenders a sense of being seen, known and loved for who we are, in this place and time. Real relationships with people who love us and who we love remind us that we are valuable and worthy of attention, simply because we are. Does social media give us this? It cannot. It’s a counterfeit of authentic connection. We seek to belong, but then it only tells us our worth is somehow tied up with how well we are liked on social media.

Online life is strictly two-dimensional; it cannot, by its nature, be three-dimensional. Flesh and blood, human beings in our path, across our table, have depth and complexity, nuance and breadth. Emotions. Faces. Smiles. An online presence allows us to be only who we want to portray, leaving out the difficult or messy parts of us, if we so choose. We can spend inordinate amounts of time perfecting our persona, showcasing a certain angle or view of ourselves that others might admire or, dare I say, even want to emulate? Maybe we truly desire to share our lives with others; the issue here, though, becomes the overwhelming tendency for comparison, inadequacy, jealousy, and self-doubt to fix us in a stranglehold with this mess. Unconsciously, we see other people’s lives, perfect or not, and are convinced we are not measuring up to some invisible standard. It’s a lie. It tells us that we are going to lose out in some way if we are not constantly engaged. It tells us that we aren’t enough, in all the ways one can be “enough.” Plenty of research has been and continues to be done on the mental health effects of social media. Anxiety, depression, inadequacy, bullying, suicidal thoughts are all correlated and connected to the use of these platforms, because they present life as a caricature. Real life people get all out of sorts and mixed up in their heads because they are trying to do the impossible, confused about reality and their own adequacy in the face of all the stimulation and veneer of what they are seeing.

Here’s the piece that makes me a little crazy when I stop and think about it. It’s what is always under the surface, what we know at our gut levels, but no one wants to say. Social media tells us quantity is more important than quality. This junk is ADDICTING. They’ve studied this stuff (you know, those researcher people) and our phones and news feeds have the same effect on our brains as any other short-term gratification does. Our brains are instantly sated by seeing new information, and the more we get that tiny “high,” the more we want it again, more often, on repeat, until we think we need it constantly. New stimuli, again and again, and we have rewired our brains to expect our fix on the regular. Yes, this sounds like what a drug does, and in fact, it is the same process. Who do we use the term user for? A user of technology, and drug users. (Watch the documentary The Social Dilemma to really mess with your thinking about this stuff). Here’s the problem. We might say we are using technology, or using social media. But if we can be honest, it is using us. We are under its thumb. The computer knows what you like, who you like and who you don’t, what you spend your time looking for, and how to get you to keep coming back.

The thing is, I don’t want anything or anyone else to control and manage who I am, what I do, and how I spend my time. In effect, we’ve given ourselves over to our devices, especially social media, and basically willingly. It’s been such a subconscious process, we don’t even know how we got here. Like the frog sitting in the pot with ever increasingly hot water, we’ve adopted these practices as they’ve come about over the years, and as each new technology comes along, we simply adapt a little further down the line, hardly giving it a second thought. Part of what’s happened, and another way our brains have changed through all of this use, is that when we are bored, or without a specific task in a given moment, we have come to need instantaneous distraction and stimulation. Again, this is our addicted brains telling us we need input at all times. If it’s not simple distraction, we think we need entertainment, or to stay “caught up” with the larger worlds. This is to our detriment; because of all this, we’ve lost capacity for stillness, quiet, conflict, creativity, imagination, and growth. We stagnate and atrophy in our physical worlds, in our ability to develop deep, true connections, in our ability to seek out and develop new skills and talents. If we don’t know how to sit with ten minutes of idle time without being distracted and entertained, how can we let our minds go to new places, dream new dreams, hope new hopes? How can we find time to come together with others in understanding, collaboration, seeking to know one another better? Are we even seeking new physical relationships when we think we are so connected online? How do we enjoy the natural world and truly see the physical people around us when our minds are so caught up in not missing out on something online, in comparing ourselves to others, in grasping for a false sense of connection in is inherently superficial and fake?

And then, there is the very real and obvious issue of time itself. The amount of time we are spending on our devices, especially social media, is pretty staggering. You can google this one. In a very practical sense, we are literally giving away our time to our devices. Our one commodity we can never get back is time. We throw it away, like there is always more tomorrow. This is it, man. Your one beautiful life. The thing is, you really do have choice in this matter. No one is telling you how to spend your days but you. You can be intentional, about all your decisions, about all your moments. This includes how much time we spend on a device, of any kind, for any purpose. Think about it. Don’t just passively consume, inhaling all of this without counting the cost. What do you really want? What is important and matters most to you?

These are the kinds of questions that come to mind when thinking about this issue.

Does the good outweigh the bad? Of course, there are positive and negative elements of most things in this world. For this, is it worth it? For you as an individual, and for our larger society? We’ve all seen atrocious ways social media has been used for lots of evil, and caused lots of harm; I’m just not convinced that has no bearing.

Internally, is it doing us any good, in the short and long-terms? Is it life-giving? How do you feel emotionally after being on social media? Peaceful, anxious, happy, stressed? I believe all our decisions should be filtered through this lens. What is accomplished by me doing this action, participating in this activity? The practices of my life - are they helping me become the person I want to be? And who is that? Are we becoming kinder, more empathetic and compassionate? How does using social media, and all that we see and consume there, affect the person I am today and that I want to keep becoming?

I just can’t shake the feeling we’ve been duped. Lots of forces are involved that don’t give a rip about you or me, or anyone else. They mostly care about money; we know this if we’re honest. Maybe we could just take back our lives. Instead of watching other people live their lives, just go live yours. Maybe stop worrying so much about what is happening on the other side of a computer screen, and get outside of yourself. Have coffee with a friend. Invite someone new or old to dinner. Invest in real relationships in your real world. Find a new way to get out of your comfort zone and interact with people different than you. Serve someone in a new way. These are the things that really change us. 

Take back your time and your space. Just say NO. It really is up to you. It has to be, or it’s no longer your life.

This season has been really refreshing for me. I’ve read more, thought more, explored more. I’ve had pockets of time to dream and consider what might be, where I want to go in my life. I’ve gotten outside every chance I’ve gotten and just breathed in the fresh air. I think our eyes are tired. Tired of looking at a tiny rectangle. Tired of us looking down instead of up and out. Let’s open our eyes. Look at the world and the people around you. Life has more to offer us. It is more simple and pure than we often make it. It’s more beautiful and joyful than we allow it to be. The world is complex and messy, unspeakably lovely and unbelievably fractured. But it is real, and it is true. And we are alive. Today, in this moment. Let’s go live in it.

#social media #thisisyourlife

[masartstuff]

James Papper

Director and illustrator who's work at the moment is primarily focusing on animation and illustration. He generates ideas through always keeping a sketchbook on him using it every morning for about a hour to empty his brain helping to capture ideas he might use at a later date. He claims you need to let yourself have shit ideas because shit ideas are often actually worth something. He seems to follow the philosophy of thinking through making claiming idle ideas are useless, just make it. He realized that he didn't need to choose a style or between film making and illustration be can create what makes him happy and brings joy and it will have the same effect for other people. Whilst at university in Bristol he struggled to find inspiration due to overmanaging his creative output managing himself to fit creative standard in order to gain popularity. However he found that making something that shows everyone who you are really worked in terms of sincerity and thus landed him jobs etc as it was a true reflection of himself.

REFLECTIONS

I really love his use of colour and how he uses his sketchbook as a way to info dump ideas. In addition his approach to making films as a way to push himself out of his comfort zones through talking to people etc is interesting as he claims the best work he has created came out of it . In addition his perseverance with putting himself out there towards the companies he wanted to work for was interesting.in addition his honesty about working with other artists and the difficulties in combining artistic visions together was interesting as I think over coming it by realisation the other person is just as big invested as you are.

Recently after the success of his voxi video he has moved and worked with dua lipa he has struggled with imposter syndrome in regards to his drawing style. As he loves looking at different artists to inform his work (see Andy baker). His work with dua lipa allowed him to incorporate and direct work from numerous different artists which helped him satisfy this need to change his work. He has spoken about his struggle with creative blocks and the fact his work is so strongly tied to his mood. However his recommendation to looking after yourself as equivalent to looking after your work is interesting.

QUESTIONS

How do u take care of yourself as a artist?

I realized I am not just a worker I am also a person as well I took a holiday helping me realise  that I can make people like me through real life connections rather than just my art

What do u think the problem with sites like it's nice that are?

Everyone funnels in there to look at stuff meaning they have this power over creative industries.. they dictate what is cool or not and I feel they aren't as responsible as they should be with that ie not crediting illustrators etc. I feel if your really good at making stuff that looks like what everyone else is doing then it's shit it's not good. I think there needs to be something else like some more diverse sense of what illustration animation can be .

Where you ever scared to included humor in your work??

It was at the end of uni I decided to include more of my personality in my work. If humour is a big part of you just go for it don't be scared I have a post it stuck to my mac that says the worst thing that will happen is it will be shit. Yeah just go for it.

How did you stop being so effected by your work?

I stopped identifying with my work I stopped being so connected to that it doesn't really matter it's not a huge reflection on who you are. I'm really into Buddhism at the moment so I'm thinking a lot about the ego.

How and why could you keep drawing when you didn't like your drawing?

I make what I make because it's therapeutic to me I just draw the way I like to because I think it would build up in me if I didn't for a while I struggled with it but I found a way around it. I work all the time with artists I think are better than me but I found a way around it.

Have you read any books that have informed your practice or life in general ?

Mans search for meaning and an artists life

You mentioned time as a useful constraint and other tips??

My sketchbook I keep it all the time it has ideas that will never come to anything but it's good for my brain to be doing these things it's like treating your brain like it's a muscle giving it a workout. Other tips are self care I left London because I hate it I've been swimming in the sea every day

JAMES PAPPER