that optimist crowley quote from the book got me thinking, because he kind of Has to be. in order for a demon's job to be necessary, you have to believe that human nature is inherently Good in order to believe it's corruptible. likewise with aziraphale and angels, you have to believe that human nature is inherently Wicked in order to believe it needs saving.

in fact, i think what makes them kind of give up on their jobs is that they're given ample opportunity for crowley to see that humans come up with wickedness all on their own and for aziraphale to see that humans do wonderfully kind things all on their own, which goes against their own inherent beliefs but fits right in with each other's.

I don’t blame people who says Aizawa is a bad teacher or a hypocrite, but you’re an account that I am comfortable sharing this because you also love eraser head. (It’s okay if you don’t want to post it)

Even Aizawa admitted to himself that he is a terrible teacher and mostly forced to teach as based on the vigilantes manga where Nemuri recommended Shota to be a teacher, but what he did to DEKU is somehow relevant for me.

Yes it is true that during the first part he hated Izuku’s guts and regarded him as having no potential but Aizawa was also testing the kid because whichever way watchers should know, Aizawa is right on the fact that Izuku just can’t attack recklessly and impulsively after having such destructive quirk. He did not disregard Izuku’s quirk, he is merely testing the kid to find his other resolve. As for Bakugo’s case Aizawa truly had a hard time disciplining him but he is watching him closely like what Mitsuki (Bakugo’s mom) said, so when All Might took tutelage of Midoriya (and Bakugo) he had no objections because as a HOMEROOM teacher, All Might is the best training for Izuku’s quirk (which is relatively passed onto him)

He is never a hypocrite for teaching Shinso. I don’t see anything wrong about that because I really understand that some training teachers have their own prodigy and he’s a homeroom teacher all he is accountable off is the overlooking at the their hero training which he did well because he focused on the student individual’s strength in the summer camp.

Aizawa also mentioned in a chapter in manga (254) why he expelled students in the past. He knew his capability as a homeroom teacher and he himself knows that he is a terrible teacher hence, re-enrolled them to other school where they would work with a new homeroom teacher. Some may see it as escaping of “escaping duties” but I really think during that time, Aizawa was just thinking what he thinks is best for the students. Afterall, he had proven himself good in manga as someone who really cares for ALL THE STUDENTS.

Blaming Aizawa for the events in 1A is practically uncalled and irrelevant, might as well just say the entire UA should be held accountable. He just had a poor decision making most especially when the truth about Kurogiri is revealed. However, even though he is not the best teacher, I can safely say that Aizawa is a decent and good teacher.

v v v long post ahead

yes anon!!!!. not my biased self speaking... he is not as great as other teachers, but saying shouta is a terrible teacher is uncalled for. he is a decent prof for me. made some mistakes, helps his students. it’s decent.

i firmly believe aizawa and all might are better example as a pro hero than teachers.

(Gonna point some of his mistakes in my perspective as a former teacher under the cut)

he was strict for a reason but he showed his care for all the students during the fight in manga (not gonna say since its spoiler) even aizawa himself knows he is terrible at teaching but at least he is trying😂

i also heard fans saying that because momo, tenya and todoroki are from rich and well known prohero family aizawa never bothered to scold at them. AGAIN IT IS WRONG TO SAY THAT.

momo, iida and todoroki...yes rich and families are known for being heroes but they practically never did anything to trouble aizawa so why else bother them? during their test, aizawa gave advice for todoroki and momo which considerably helped them.

aizawa’s way of teaching is to give harsh critiques and let the student have their own resolve. but as a former student and teacher speaking, it is both right and wrong to have that approach.

it’s definitely okay to let them figure out their own resolve (HAPPENS A LOT IN MED SCHOOL PROFS ARE HARSH HUHU) but it is important to somehow give them base and foundation before actually figuring out their so-called own resolves. i think it’s what aizawa lacks the most AS A TEACHER. but then again his entire character build up clearly says he’s not for teaching.

he was also called a hypocrite for teaching shinso but they aren’t picking on all might for mostly focusing on deku nor endeavor only wanting to focus on shoto. it’s not wrong to have their own prodigies because at the very least aizawa helped overlook his students like what he did in the summer camp and like what all might did in student practicals.

not just aizawa but all might, endeavor, nighteye and even gran torino have personal decisions on closely training those selected kids

aizawa WAS the only teacher who called the entrance/admission test irrelevant for non-physical quirks. HE KNEW IT WAS A PROBLEM SO HE HELPED SHINSO TO BE ON HERO DEPARTMENT bc he know the kid’s opportunity to be a pro hero in the future. he experienced that himself, although his quirk is powerful it was completely non-physical that is why his and shinso’s ability are less likely to be recognized. coz i agree the quirk admission test was somehow iffy... there should have been psychological quirk test too but i understand the point where fans tell that “it’s a student’s job to take advantage of their quirk rather than complain in the disadvantages of having a non-physical quirk.”

I agree on that statement but as a former student myself, i think reconsiderations should have existed coz there are probably lots of great students in general course department (like shinsou).

—and tbh... aizawa and kakashi are often the teachers who are regarded as ‘terrible ones’ but i don’t think so.

im not gonna point out kakashi’s but im gonna say aizawa’s role as a homeroom teacher. back in highschool, ive homeschooled in japan for 2 yrs due to personal reasons and i can say that based on their culture in japan and asia countries in general have a different approach on homeroom teachers.

homeroom teachers in japan are technically the ones who overlook the students, ppl who argued that aizawa should train them is irrelevant because all might is their combat and hero training teacher. aizawa is not meant to teach, but rather supervise.

which is why aizawa (as the homeroom teacher) and all might (the hero training teacher) are the ones who had council with parents because technically, aizawa is responsible for the students safety. HOWEVER....

manga spoilers on the cut

some anti aizawa fans are totally wrong to blame everything in him for 1A always being in dangerous circumstances because after reading the on going manga, they have no damned idea AT FIRST who the league of villains is responsible of. THE ENTIRE UA SHOULD BE HELD ACCOUNTABLE, not just aizawa I agree on that anon.

for aizawa and the rest it is still a puzzle in the early, i repeat early chapters of the manga what the league is really after aside from killing all might and changing the system of pro heroes.

yes. I agree he had bad decisions on the victims, mainly Kurogiri because he knew it was his friend. He regarded Kurogiri as a ‘victim’ but somehow disregarded the casualties it caused. It was irrational for aizawa to say it like that coz it was obviously a word out of his feelings in the past. can’t blame him (imo) but it was truly irrational and irrelevant for him to say it like that.

there are times aizawa as a teacher just harshly criticized them and let them have their own resolve which is in fact, pretty harsh for a bunch of 15 year olds. but i think aizawa only wants them to have their own resolve since its what aizawa has been doing since episode 5.

i think it was bad for aizawa to let iida go where his brother was attacked, he should have acted upon it as a homeroom teacher to secure iida’s safety but then again, ITS FOR THE SAKE OF PLOT😂

im going to say this again... as a former teacher speaking, it is bad for aizawa just to give the students harsh critiques and letting them figure their own resolves.

it’s not a bad teaching approach BUT that kind of approach doesn’t work ALL THE TIME. sometimes, aizawa needs to teach the basics, base and foundation so the students would have an easier time to HAVE AN ACTUAL SOLUTION

because as a student for 9 years in pre and med school, it is definitely hard to make critical decisions WITHOUT being taught the foundation and base first.

it’s like aizawa not teaching an intern general surgery but letting them have their own decisions if the intern is gonna decide whether to lead the surgery or not.

his teaching approach is not bad but it doesn’t work all the time. as a teacher, pro hero and adult he needs to imply his own experience as well which where the erasure hero lacks. But then again it’s plot and aizawa’s introvert character build up so we can’t really blame him because they need the plot to keep going.

personally, aizawa’s main mistake is not knowing what to teach for the answers to questions the students are not expected to know from teaching answers to questions the students are expected to know.

if aizawa’s gonna be that perfect teacher and all, the show would have been boring😂

though aizawa did assessed on their quirks during summer training arc but i think it was not enough for the fans.

aizawa is much more better as a pro hero alone. he does his job perfectly as pro hero.

so in conclusion, i think aizawa needs to have seminar with me 🤪 im gonna teach my man the proper and basics of teaching. HAHAHAHA KIDDING 🤪 (lowkey not kidding)

Break a Nail (Din Djarin x fem!Reader)

Word Count:  2,061

Warnings: Fluffy fluff. Cursing. There are some sexist undertones towards the reader from a bounty. But it’s mostly just Din and the reader being a cute bounty hunter couple. Grammar and spelling warning, because I’m a dummy who can’t English. 

Pairing: Din Djarin x Fem!Reader 

a/n: Thank you so much for the request!! Sorry it took so long. It was really fun to write and I really enjoyed it <3 Honestly it was such a fun idea! I enjoy the whole tough in public but soft in private kind of trope that’s going on here. 

EDITS: Grammar and spelling. - also another edit to make the fic more inclusive. 

The contrast between you on the job and you on the Razor Crest baffled the Mandalorian at times. He didn’t really understand how someone could go from absolutely demolishing men twice their own size, to fretting over their newly painted nails and trying to decide which dress went with what shoes. When out on jobs you dressed and acted like a man, the helmet you wore modulating your voice to sound deeper and more gruff. In public, you were serious and almost stoic. You would radiate confidence in everything you did, whether it be bartering for a better price, shooting a blaster with pinpoint accuracy, or being able to take down men like flies. 

  The first time he met you he was sure you were a man, there was no doubt in his mind about it. The way you acted, talked, and fought just screamed to him that you were a man. Nothing gave away the fact that you were a woman below those layers of clothes. So, when you first removed your helmet in front of him, he was amazed to see your true self, and was surprised to hear your sweet voice speak to him. 

Without the helmet on you instantly changed into another person, your atmosphere turning bubbly and energetic. Gone was the most manly and badass man the Mandalorian had ever met. Instead, a beautiful and kind hearted woman stood in place, looking at him with the biggest smile he’d ever seen. In fairness, both in your get up and out of it, you were still a badass in your own quirky ways. It just so happened that you tended to be more open about your likes and dislikes without your gear on.

  He was in love with you within seconds of discovering this about you. Honestly Din couldn’t have fallen in love with you any faster. He fell for you hard and almost instantly. He adored everything about you, both your public and private self. Every aspect of the person you were was spectacular to him, and nothing could change that in his mind. 

  He loved being around you and would spend most of his time with you. He was happy to see his clan expand with your addition to it. Him, you, and the kid made the perfect little family in his eyes, though he’d never tell you that. Going with you on jobs had turned out to be one of his favourite things. He didn’t know how he had survived doing jobs without you until this point in his life. Every day with you around was interesting and today was no different. 

 Currently, Din watched as you had dragged the bounty up the Razor Crest ramp, plopping him on the hulls floor before his feet. The asset struggled within his binds, spitting curses and insults in both of your directions. He was surprised at first, at seeing you with the bounty, as you had originally left earlier for the market. Last he checked you were just getting supplies, not dragging a whole man back to the ship. 

  On another note, the both of you were supposed to be going after him together later that day, after your little supply run. He was mainly surprised because he knew you enjoyed going on jobs with him. You would even refer to the two of you working together on jobs as your ‘couple bonding’ time. So, it was a bit of a shock to see you having ruined your little bounty hunting date by doing the job on your own. 

“Fuck you dude.” The man on the ground spat at you in a growl, “You think you’re some sort of hero bringing me in? Huh?” 

“No, but I definitely think I’m going to be a hell of a lot richer.” Your reply came, the smirk on your face evident in your voice. 

  At this point you had pressed your foot into the center of the asset's back, holding him in place, as he pitifully squirmed on the metal floor of the ship. The addition of your weight had stilled him for a moment though, as he glared daggers over his shoulder at you. 

  Din watched as you removed your helmet, shaking your head while chuckling in the process. It was one of his favourite sights, something he found attractive anytime you did it. He could not explain why seeing you remove your own helmet was so alluring to him, but he chalked it up to the fact that anything you did he saw through rose tinted lenses. There was nothing you could ever do to convince him that you weren’t perfect. 

“What the fuck you’re a woman?!” The bounty snarled, his expression wrinkling with anger and confusion. “There’s no way a damn woman captured me.”

 Looking down at the man you let out a giggle, “I always love when they realize a woman took them down.” Setting down your helmet, you crouched to level yourself with him, a toothy grin across your cheeks, as you ‘booped’ the man on the nose, beginning to taunt him. This being a normal occurrence that occurred when a bounty was being extra mouthy to you. 

“Quit messing with the asset and put him in the carbon freeze.” Din said, putting a stop to your harassment of the man, as funny as it may have been. 

At his words, you had turned to look at him with an eyebrow raised. “You want me to put him in the carbon freeze?”

“You brought him back, so yes.” 

��Letting out an exaggerated sigh, you shook your head and forced a pout in the Mandalorian’s direction, “It’s a shame, but I actually can’t lift him right now, guess you’ll have to do it.” You had said, now standing next to your companion. 

The Mandalorian’s head turned to look at you next to him, his eyes narrowing underneath the helmet, “I’ve seen you lift a bounty twice the size of this one.” 

“Oh I know. Strength wise I totally can, but I just did my nails earlier you know?” You continued, moving away from him and sitting on one of the crates located in the hull. At this point you had pulled your gloves off to examine your recently done nails, sighing in relief at seeing that they still remained unscathed and painted to perfection. 

“You’re kidding.” Din replied, a little more on the irritated side. He was aware that a few hours, before you had left to go into the market, you had decided to redo your nails. So aware in fact, because you had made him help with picking out a colour. 

“Kidding? Din what if I chip them? Or worse! What if I break a nail?” You exclaimed to him “It’s already bad enough I had to drag him back here!” 

“Is that why it took you so long to get back?”

“Yes!” 

  He had crossed his arms over his chest at this point, staring down at you intensely. It was the look he’d give to someone when trying to shake them down for information, or for a merchant to lower their prices. To many people, it would strike fear through their bodies and make them quiver in their boots. However, you on the other hand, had grown quite immune to the deadly gaze that your Mandalorian partner possessed. At this point in your time together, not even his most fiercest of looks to throw you off balance.  

 Seeing that you weren’t letting up under his gaze, he let out a huff and looked back down the bounty. “Why’d you bother painting your nails in the first place?” He asked, titling his head to look down at your coloured nails. “Why do you bother at all honestly?”

You had given him a look of mock shock, a small gasp leaving your lips, “How could I not bother?” 

“You can’t see it but I’m rolling my eyes.” He muttered with a sigh, as he went to work freezing the bounty, seeing as he knew you wouldn’t be doing it anytime soon. He may have been acting annoyed with the whole thing, but the truth he really didn’t mind. This man would find a way to move a whole galaxy for you if you had asked him to. 

 At his remark you had stuck your tongue out him, before watching as the bounty did his best to escape from your Mandalorian lover. The man had begged and pleaded with Din, even apologized for all the nasty things he had said to you on your way back to Razor Crest. A scoff left you at that, with your own roll of the eyes. Of course he apologizes to Din for how he treated you, rather than even bothering to say it to you, a typical asshole thing. 

  The mandalorian had heard the noise you made in regards to the man's pleas and had paused in thought over it. In truth, he hated how many people would disregard your skill and work as a bounty hunter after learning more about your true self. When he first met you, he didn’t understand why you would parade around as a male bounty hunter. However, the more time he spent working with you, he had begun to understand why you put up such a strong exterior in public. People didn’t take a feminine looking and acting hunter seriously. Instead, they would look down on you for it and would disregard your work almost entirely.  

  Admittedly, he did enjoy seeing the contrast between your badass self in public and bubbly self in private. It was entertaining in a sense and rather endearing. The thought of others treating you poorly for any part of yourself though had boiled his blood. In other words, he could not understand how anyone could ever mistreat you simply over the things you liked, and hated the idea that you may feel like you had to act the way you did to be taken seriously. Whether you actually felt that way, or just thought it was fun to be the way you wanted, was entirely only known to you.   

“Listen I didn’t know she was ya gal! I’m sorry alright?” The man continued his plea, thinking the Mandalorian was starting to reconsider his impending doom, “Listen if I knew she was a woman, your woman, I wouldn’t have messed with her in the first place-” 

“-She’s more than just my girl or my woman.” Din cut the man off in a low voice and picked the bounty up by the front of his shirt. “She’s one of the best hunters in the galaxy and she’s the one who took you down. Remember that.” 

  Those were his last words to the bounty before he had shoved him in the carbon freeze. 

“Look at you, getting all angry over a rude bounty for me,” You teased him, watching as he finished up with his task. “I’m not even really mad about it, I’ve heard worse, you know?”

He let out a grunt in reply, “Doesn’t matter. People shouldn’t treat you or act like that around you. You’re one of the most skilled bounty hunters I know.” 

“More skilled than you?” You playfully said to him, as he had moved closer to you, until the two of you were toe to toe.

“Hmm, I wouldn’t go that far.” He managed to tease back at you, lightly tapping his forehead against yours. 

  After his little forehead tap, he took one of your hands into his larger ones. He brought your hand close to his helmet and began to examine your nails up close, almost as if he was admiring your work. His gloved thumb had rubbed smoothly across the inside of your palm, sending shivers down your spine and causing for a wave of heat to flow through your form.  

“Your nails do look nice.” 

“I know!” A cheeky smile had spread across your cheeks once more, the mischief within its depth drawing him into your words, “You should let me paint yours~” 

 He let out a small chuckle at your teasing remark, a smile etching across his features that you couldn’t see, but knew was there from his posture alone. He let go of your hand so he could remove a glove from his own, holding his bare hand out before you, palm down. 

“What colour do you think would suit me best?”

---

Tags:

@ah-callie​ @readsalot73​ @starrywatermelon​ @karnita-mexicana​

top 5 bl asian mlm dramas / series and 5 honorable mentions you would recommend

tagged by the real mvp @bl-archer <3 

1. HIStory3: Trapped (Taiwan, 2019)

I’m a big fan of all the HIStory series, but this one takes the cake. Despite the extraordinary circumstances that bring Shao Fei and Tang Yi together, their relationship is so realistic to me. Problems arise and are solved with proper communication. The storylines outside of the romance are WILD and I love a crime series. Just an all-around great watch. (My Incorrect Quotes series started with the crime gays)

2. He’s Coming to Me (Thailand, 2019)

I watched this show way after it actually aired, so I got to binge it all at once. Singto is an adorable bunny and I loved seeing him in a role opposite someone unexpected. Which bring me to Ohm; he impressed me so much with this series. I never actually watched Make It Right (?) but I was not expecting him to blow me out of the water with this performance. The series was such an odd concept to me going in, and the ending could have been done in a bittersweet way and I would have been a-okay with it, but overall, this series was amazing. And of course, the portrayal of the lgbtq+ community really set the bar for other series to come. He’s Coming to Move proved that shows don’t have to pander to fujoshis (ugh) in order to make a ‘good’ show. 

3. Until We Meet Again (Thailand, 2019)

This show also did a really good job at also portraying the lqbtq+ community currently (casually in the present and hidden in the past) and it just hits so different. The show ripped my heart out, helped heal me, and also gave me a wonderful amount of fluff AND comedy. Another of my favorite parts of this show are all the friendships! I want to see these college kids having fun and hanging out AND search through family secrets and dissect the existence of reincarnation.

4. 2moons2 (Thailand, 2019)

The first ever thai drama I watched was the original 2moons (hence my url lol), so after sifting through the garbage fire that was the process of making this second series, I think it was well worth it. The real scene-stealers are MingKit (JoongNine are adorable and I really love them and their friendship) and we finally got the ForthBeam we deserved. Some downsides are that I really stopped caring for PhaYo, but if you can tough it out, I think it’s worth it. 

5. SOTUS (Thailand, 2016)

Okay, so, objectively, sotus is not a great show. But it is another of the shows that hold a special place in my heart. The show’s cast has some real superstars (Singto, Off, GUNSMILE THE LOVE OF MY LIFE), gave me a hint of a wlw lady, and gave me my most favorite ship PremWad. Am I known as the premwad lady? I feel like that’s my ultimate goal in life. This show is mainly on the actual top five list because after ages of not writing, premwad revitalized me with the inspiration I needed to get back to it originally. 

Honorable Mentions

HIStory3: Make Our Days Count (Taiwan, 2019); would be higher if not for the ending (if you disregard the last episode, its a phenomenal series)

Dark Blue Kiss (Thailand, 2019); I’m not going to lie, I jumped onto this series for MorkSun and they did not disappoint

HIStory2: Crossing the Line (Taiwan, 2018); would absolutely be a must-watch if I could do more than 5 (but that step-brothers thing knocked it down to honorable mention)

Why R U (Thailand, 2020); SaifahZon owns my entire heart. Obviously the whole Novel thing and the fact Zol exists is why this show isn’t up higher. If anyone needs some links to this show with all the fujoshi shit cut out, let me know because I made that 

2gether (Thailand, 2020); since this show is still airing, we can never know if it will suddenly become terrible, but just know it is ramping up to being Numero Uno. Not only is it another show that is great with inclusion regarding lgbtq+, Bright and Win are my lifeblood when it comes to being Intellectuals and making my own queer heart swoon

I’m tagging @kxrn7knxck and @weilongfu (even though you both already do reviews, it’s still pretty fun)

Shoutout to @tiburme for tagging me~!

Rules: Name 10 favorite characters from 10 different things and then tag 10 people.

Oh, massive spoilers below btw.

1. Gon Freecss from Hunter x Hunter: My favorite shounen protagonist by far. At first you think he’s your typical happy-go-lucky bouncy boye :D who definitely doesn’t have abandonment issues or self-destructive tendencies that literally actually almost kill him later on, and then, uwu... The amount of complexity that Gon has as a protagonist who hardly ever has stand-alone development is nothing short of astounding. How during the Chimera Ant Art his characterization totally dips off to the side to become an unknowable entity even to the audience, while still retaining amazing character development regardless -- not to mention how brilliantly daring his decision to threaten Komugi is that nearly every other author with such a happy-go-lucky protagonist would shy away from in cowardice -- is absolutely surreal to me. The more I think and write about Gon, the more I fall in love with him. If I ever meet his father, and by that I mean his real father, the creator, Togashi, I have nothing else to say but,,, well done, sir.

2. Tanjirou Kamado from Demon Slayer: I’m really hoping the Demon Slayer movie comes out soon because I absolutely love this boy and how charming he is. Unlike most protagonists, not just of shounen anime but of seemingly macho story lines that involve power-ups and training in general, Tanjirou never lets go of his kind heart. (Welp, except maybe in some cases when he’s facing the Upper Moons later on -- I haven’t caught up yet -- but WE’RE GONNA IGNORE THAT for now.) From the beginning, Tanjirou’s kindness isn’t an obstacle holding back his power, though other characters pose it that way, but rather he cultivates his empathy to grant peace to the demons he faces. He smiles in the face of anyone who treats him poorly because of his cluelessness, and that’s just so heartwarming to see, and dare I say subversive to the hardened, calculating, and cocky male protagonists we so often get. Good job, Gotouge.

3. Joseph Joestar from JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure: Giorno Giovanna was a close second, but I gotta go with Joseph. He’s the one who made me fall in love with the series, and with the later parts too. Unlike Jonathan Joestar, who was chivalrous and manly, Joseph was a riot: colorful, arrogant, funny, but also extremely clever. I absolutely loved his, “Next you’ll say...!” because at first I expected it to just be him being an overconfident asshole and eventually he’d be proven wrong at the ~Dai Pinchi Moment~ (please excuse my weeb speech, I legit didn’t know what else to call it), but then he hit the mark every time and eventually I was just waiting for when he’d pull that out and it was so hype. Also I surely can’t forget his transformation as an old dude in Part 3 -- him screaming “OOHHHH MY GAAAWDDDA!” and “HOLY SHIIIT!” murdered me every time. And of course, last but not least, the raw fucking emotion when Caeser died -- the dude actually gave a shit and wasn’t made entirely of wit and absurdity, but heart too. Joseph set the tone for what JJBA was as a whole for me (fuck off with that “but Part 3/Part 4 is the best Part” bullshit, Part 2 will always be top tier for me because of Joseph Joestar’s brilliant, bright, and beautiful absurdity -- but Part 5 was really good too). Araki really is a genius.

4. Link from The Legend of Zelda: Twilight Princess: My love for this series is a bit older than the series I’ve already mentioned, and TLoZ: TP was actually probably the first time I got seriously obsessed with a fandom. I love all the Links in their own ways, but Twilight Princess really drove home the “lone wolf chosen by the gods, fighting against the world” narrative for me. It made me feel important and strong at a time when no one cared about me. Seeing Link struggle silently through his quest with villagers who meant well but did nothing for him, and Midna who started out as a reluctant acquaintance and eventually became so much more, meant so much to me at the time I played the game. I will always love Twilight Princess the most because of what it did for me at one of the darkest times in my life, and because I felt completely and utterly immersed in every part of the story and gameplay through Link’s character, who was, and in many ways, still is, so relatable to me: Silent courage really is what I use to get through every day.

5. Greedling from Fullmetal Alchemist (Brotherhood): For once I’m not naming the protagonist of a series! Lissen, I still smile whenever I see the slightest reference to Edward Elric, but now he’s more of my childhood love. He’s just a part of my personality already? LOL. Anyway, FMA(B) has so many good characters that choosing just one doesn’t feel right (I mean, same with HxH tho). I say Greedling because that encompasses both Ling and Greed though, two of my favorite characters from the series! Ling’s apparent childishness in constantly running away from fights, making other people pay for his food, and failing to grasp the seriousness of the situation (until Lan Fan’s arm gets cut off lol oops) is so adorable and entertaining. He’s the best kind of idiot asshole, and I especially love how he teases Ed. After him and Greed fuse, Ling’s stout heart becomes even more apparent, as he constantly eggs Greed on to remember his past life, his friends, and become someone outside of Father/the Dwarf in the Flask. Conversely, Greed’s nonchalance and (of course) avarice are nothing short of entertaining and heartbreaking. Greed’s realization at the end, when he finally admitted to himself that what he wanted all along were “friends like these,” completely crushed me the first few times I watched FMAB. And when he’s screaming in the tunnels under Central after having killed Bido, remembering his friends, and he doesn’t understand why, and later attacks Wrath/King Bradley... that shit was so entertaining and cathartic to watch. None of his development feels like forced redemption, nor like it was too little development, since it mostly happens in the background and away from the “validating eyes” of the protagonists other than Ling. And at the end, when Ling and Greed work together to take down Bradley and all the soldiers invading Central HQ... it’s so beautiful. Many have said this before but I’ll say it again: Hiromu Arakawa wrote the perfect series.

6. Ciel Phantomhive from Black Butler: Another protagonist! And another older obsession of mine. Ciel remains in my mind to this day mainly for his heartlessness in relation to his age, and the fluidity with which Toboso tells his story. Normally when authors write younger characters into their serious stories, they make “child adults” of sorts, but Ciel feels totally realistic to the extent that he is both childish and adult to me. Obviously, Ciel is responsible and (normally) level-headed due to being the head of the Phantomhive household, but also from trauma. Yet, his cruelty at times is what sticks in my mind the most: You really feel that he’s someone who feels he’s been abandoned by the entire world, given his experiences, and that makes him disregard or use others sometimes in order to reach his own ends. Normally, authors would be too cowardly to let their protagonists, let alone child protagonists, go to such lengths to avenge their family, or carry out their duty as the dog of the military (looking at you, Arakawa -- she’s still a goddess tho). But Ciel is unforgiving. He lies to Snake and tells him his troupe is still alive. He murders the entire troupe because he’s triggered -- a childish decision, but driven with adult-like power due to trauma. It’s devastatingly riveting, and I cannot forget his unrelenting, contained rage to this day.

7. Ahsoka Tano from Star Wars: The Clone Wars: This one may come as a shock to most of you, because I hardly ever post Star Wars let alone Ahsoka content on here -- but it’s true. Other than the blatant, half-assedly inserted heteroromantic partner they gave Ahsoka in, like, idk season 3??, Ahsoka is a fucking goddess. From her origin as a wee baby in the earlier seasons who didn’t really know what she was doing and was a bit of a cocky brat, to how she matures and becomes wise, resourceful, and fierce in the later seasons, I just love Ahsoka’s design and character to this day. The episodes that stick in my mind aside from the obvious are when she’s possessed by the Dark Side of the Force on that Force balance planet and her arrogance becomes so exaggerated that she threatens and attacks Anakin, her teacher. It was so fucking cathartic. Normally female characters, let alone young protagonist female characters, are never allowed to show the ugly sides of themselves in fiction, since women are always portrayed as perfect beautiful majestic angels or some bullshit like that. (Or they’re cocky/sexy/slutty villain women. ‘Kay then.) Seeing Ahsoka devolve into her basal desires and come out of it like hardly anything happened and she’s still a perfectly valid character was so amazing to see on a meta level; it wasn’t about her learning a lesson or anything, it was a thing that happened like any other character and then they moved the fuck on. I also distinctly remember the episode where she was trapped on that island/planet and she had to take out the aliens that were after her all by herself. That was so fucking empowering to watch and god fucking dammit I need to rewatch this series now. And of course, let us not forget the fact that the entire time, we were all expecting Ahsoka to just be another domino in Anakin’s downfall -- and she was, but not through the refrigerator -- but through walking away from it all. That was so powerful and moving -- and heartbreaking. By the end of TCW, her character carried weight and agency in the narrative, and god, I only wish whoever wrote her could write more female characters in the future.

8. Tigress from Kung Fu Panda: Maybe another surprise, but I think she deserves this spot. Tigress is a female character who starts out as kind of an antagonist, given how she outright tells Po to leave the kung fu temple within the first day of him arriving. She’s even jealous of the fact that he’s chosen as the Dragon Warrior rather than her -- but that’s due to the backwash of years of trying to live up to the memory of Tai Lung in order to please Shifu (which means “master” in Chinese but ok I’ll shut up now), her master and mentor over the years. She never says this out loud in the movie, which is what makes her character more believable. Others even joke about how stoic she is (and not in bad taste). Her character development is definitely present for those who are looking -- but I put her on this list because I’m so happy the movie doesn’t make it some huge dramatic emotional thing, because so often in media women are depicted as being overly-emotional and here Tigress is just a hurt child trying to make her mentor happy. But, she gets over it, her and Po become allies, even friends to each other -- she and Po talk like equals in the second and third movies, and she even tells him to back out of the fight with Lord Shen and he listens (I mean he doesn’t stay put but he doesn’t undermine her opinion either lol, like most jokesy protagonists of Western media would -- looking at you, Marvel). I like Tigress because she’s an antagonist without being a bitch, she’s powerful without being overpowered, and she’s not sexualized despite being a well-trained, at times jealous, and even emotionally awkward kung fu master. And I almost forgot to mention the best part: There is never an indication of romance between her and Po, or any other character, for that matter. She’s perfectly capable, complex, and lovely on her own terms. And that’s that on THAT.

9. Bilbo Baggins from The Hobbit: I wanted to include at least one character protagonist from a live-action movie/book, lol. I feel like Bilbo’s pretty self-explanatory. He doesn’t wanna go on an adventure because he likes his doilies and warm sheets, but then Gandalf seduces him with the call to the outside world and possible death (LOL), and he fucking goes for it, grumbling the entire time. Isn’t that what any of us would do if given such a proposition? I like to think so. Bilbo obviously has his own gradual, evil transformation with the One Ring, becomes murderous and uses it to disappear, and grows a strong bromance with the King Under the Mountain (which happens in both the movie and the book), but I think what I like about him is that he really feels... down-to-earth? Like even though the adventure changes him, it never feels like he’s been stretched in a way that makes his core character traits of grumbling and bluntness disappear. He gets better at the whole adventuring thing, for sure, but he remains Bilbo, at least, to me, throughout the journey. It was heartwrenching watching him try to save Thorin in The Battle of Five Armies, honestly, but Bilbo’s the kind of character that I feel like has his own story and mythology aside from The Hobbit, and maybe that’s just the result of J.R.R. Tolkien writing the lore for every aspect of his universe, but My Point Still Stands. He feels like his own man apart from the series he’s in, yet he’s still so much fun in his series.

10. Barley Lightfoot from Onward: And last, this one is because I saw Onward yesterday and was pleasantly surprised by the characterization in it -- and anyone who thinks differently can kiss my *ss. :) I was not expecting the movie to take the twist of fleshing out the “annoying” (more like adorable) overconfident nerdy big brother. Normally those characters are swiped to the side because God Forbid The Comic Relief Have Any Sadness In Them. I was expecting the movie to focus on Ian’s journey to meet his fatha and that the movie would pull something stupid at the end like “oh actually there’s another phoenix gem underneath the school” or “actually since only his legs appeared then you still have 24 hours with him” or some shit like that, but I guess this isn’t an anime so those absurdist explanations wouldn’t hold water anyway. But still, for a kid’s movie, I was NOT expecting this movie to go so hard with the characterization. For once, the main character doesn’t get what he wants at the end, and instead realizes it’s his big brother, Barley, who’s been looking out for him his entire life. Meeting his dad would betray that reality. What happens instead is that the lovable big brother never actually said goodbye to their dad before he died, because when their dad got sick, said brother ran away from the hospital room in fear of all the life-sustaining equipment. (Is this some meta thing about Chris Pratt and Guardians of the Galaxy? Off topic and call me stupid, but I didn’t realize Chris Pratt plays him until I saw everyone freaking out about it afterward on Tumblr laksjdflak.) So instead, the lovable big brother talks to the dad at the end, and unconfident younger brother grows confidence and thanks big bro for being with him his entire life. It was so touching, dude. I cry. But the moment that sticks in my mind the most was when Ian was crossing the invisible bridge... Ian needed to have confidence in himself to be able to cross over a chasm in their path, and Barley knew that if Ian didn’t believe in himself, he would fall and die. They tie a rope around Ian for good measure, and Barley encourages him the entire way, but halfway over, the rope comes loose and slips off. Barley sees this and starts panicking, but of course continues to encourage Ian so that Ian will get to the other side. What got to me wasn’t the fact that he faked it for Ian, but that there are actual tears running down his face as he’s encouraging Ian to get to the other side, because he knows otherwise Ian wouldn’t have the confidence and would fall to his death. Like dude, that raw, complex emotion in a kid’s movie?! DUDE?! I was fucking surprised. The clear anxiety and grief in Barley’s face as Ian’s totally clueless and even dancing around in the air was just too much, omfg. Of course, then it’s played off for laughs, but... I guess that makes sense for the annoying overconfident nerdy big bro character. :’)

Okay these are way longer than I anticipated and I’m sorry, but also I’m really not. Hope you enjoyed reading my thoughts on my favs!

Seems I don’t talk to that many people on here anymore: @stupidbluejay @mirycactusito @chronicstarlight

high stakes 0.1

bodyguard!tom holland x reader

Your small black heels clicked against the wooden pleated floor, echoing in the empty, white hallways, pictures of you and the family spread across the wall every so often, in between pieces of expensive art pieces and photography canvases. The white dress you were wearing blended in with the white, light hallway, your skin shining and glowing against the composition, complimenting your bright eyes and hair. The familiar dark red oak door came into your view as you huffed, tucking in your hair away from your face, the faint beating of your heart skipping every so often you had no reason to be nervous, but the sudden urgent texts and calls from your father had always worried you, especially with the fact that his security had almost tripled since the last time you visited. 

Three light knocks landed on the door, your palms slightly clammy and shaking as the reached for the handle, twisting gently, emphasising the faint squeak it gave off, and the moaning of the great oak double doors. The first thing you noticed was your father, dark suit, dark facial features and his slumped body language, his age and tiredness practically flooding the room's atmosphere, and you almost cried at the sight of him. The second thing you noticed, was the man in front of you, how hadn't turned toward you, so all you could see was his dark brown curls, his tall stature and position in the office chair, if you hadn't known any better, you would assume your father was in a meeting but you had been cleared to come inside.

“Hi Daddy,” You said, walking around the large dark desk, leaning down to place a gentle kiss on your fathers cheek, rubbing your thumb against his skin gentle whilst giving him a loving smile as he looked up at you, and all you saw was a broken puppy, lost and tired, which broke your heart.

“Hello sweet pea, please sit down,” You father replied, motioning to the second office chair placed next to the stranger. Now you had a good look at him, and it took your breath away, his dark eyes where solely focuses on you, building your nerves as they looked you up and down. You walked over, sitting down next to him, trying not to keep close o the intoxicating smell that leaked off the man's body.

“What's going on dad?” You asked, you fingers fidgeting as you bounced your foot up and down, tapping against the floor rhythmically.

“Sweet pea, this is Tom, your new appointed bodyguard,” Your father said, nearly choking on his words as he watched your face fall, confusion, shock and little anger fell over you as you stayed speechless.

“Since I have merged with another business we had to make a lot of changes, I have received multiple threats, which doesn't bother me, but now they are using you as a target as well, so I need to keep you safe,” You dad started, and every so often, your eyes would travel form your father to the man next to you, who had been looking at you since you sat down, making you feel slightly nauseous. "So, Tom will be staying with you until we can eliminate the threat,"

You sat for a while, both your father and Tom looking at you, waiting for your reaction as you stayed motionless. You blinked multiple times over, trying to calm your swirling mind, making you dizzy, shaking your head slightly as you looked at your father.

"He's staying with me?" Dad, have you really thought this through? It cant be that serious, I can look after myself," You said, turning sour as you hear Tom scoff beside you, causing you to look him up and down with a dirty look on your face; you must admit, he was beyond attractive, but a bodyguard. Really?

"Yes, until I can be sure you are safe on your own, you need to be nice to Tom, and do anything and everything he tells you too, I'm sorry sweet pea," You father said, and your bitterness built up; you didnt want a stranger living with you, just when you had gotten to the routine of being by yourself, walking around in basically nothing whilst eating a shit ton of pot noodle, now you had to wear clothes and cook meals for you both.

"Don't even fucking bother," You sighed, standing up and leaving. You flooded with guilt as you remembered your fathers face, but you stood your ground, walking down the same hallways and making your way back to your car, saying hello to the familiar security and maids that roamed through.

Before you could even pull open the car door, it slammed shut in front of you, Toms body coming into view before you as you rolled your eyes to the heavens.

"Seriously? I can't even drive?" You scoffed, shoving the car keys harshly into his chest as you rounded the car and made your way to the passenger's seat.

"Why are you so against this?" Tom said, staring the car and pulling ou the gravel driveway.

"Normally the security doesn't talk to the client, just saying," You remarked, thinking about all the films and book you had studied, where the security guards took place in the background, but then in your previous experiences, you were always close and friendly with the staff your father hired.

"What about Princess Diaries? Don't they fall in love" Tom said, laughing to himself as you ignored him. You were surprised, he didnt seems like the kind of guy that would watch cheesy chick flics, but here you were. The short car journey was filled with silence, it was uncomfortable, biting away at your skin as you watched the familiar scenery pass you by. You had always stayed close to your father, mainly because of his guilt-tripping about abandoning him, but this way the only way you could be your own person and grow up, which your father also resented.

a mix of anger and anxiety coursed through your veins as you got out of the parked car and into your house, disregarding any emotional or physical response Tom had to your brisk actions. It was unnecessary for him to be here, to live here, you had always received a threat and you didnt understand why this was any different. But you sighed again at the recurring image of your ill father.

Once you opened the door, you threw the keys into the bowl beside the entrance, the jingle and crashing making you wince at the scurring silence. You could feel Toms presence behind you, hear his breath in and heavily breath outwards again, and you could hear your heartbeat racing faster than electric; you knew that no matter how hard you could try you wouldn't be able to ignore him, or his insanely good looks.

You gave him a brief tour of the apartment; showing him the kitchen and bar, the living room and how to work the controls of the room and of course his bedroom and en-suite, and you wished he would settle in and keep to himself for the most part; but you knew it was wishful thinking.

“Wheres your room then, sweetheart?” He said, his gorgeous frame leaning against the door frame, arms folded and a sly smirk on his face, looking you up and down as you rolled your eyes. You wanted to bite back and tell him to shove it, but you decided it wasn't fair; this was his job after all, and it was only to protect you.

“Down the hall the left, and don't you dare even think about coming in uninvited or without knocking or ill have you fired before you can even blink,” you said, a flirtatious hint somehow ending up in your meant to be threatening sentence, you huffed again and left, feeling his deep brown eyes stare at you as you walk away, locking yourself in your bedroom and falling dramatically on the soft, white silk sheets. 

It felt odd to you, having someone in the house that you can't really treat as a welcomed guest, but not a staff member either; Tom was now a permanent residence in your home, and that would take some getting used too; you now had to be careful around your own home, not wear, do, say anything to risque or harsh, not sing in the shower to your hearts content, go to the toilet with the door open, lay in your underwear on the balcony recliner, all the small things you now couldn't do with Toms company. You decided that this may be a good thing though; there was no doubt in your mind that Tom was attractive, unbearably so, but this meant that you had no control of your action, you will either act like a nervous prick who can't stand up for herself or become a mean, walls up, closed off person with anger issues; really there was no telling what could happen.

But for now, you grabbed your favourite book and changed into your pyjama shorts and a crop top, even though it was around 3pm, and sat on the balcony recliner, to induld]ge oni some much-needed vitamin d.

Tom found it amusing, the way your eyebrows and nose would furrow and scrunch up to read the words on the cream white page, and how he could tell how interesting the book was by the way your facial expressions contorted with each paragraph or so.

He found himself watching you intently, his eyes being drawn to you and your figure; he was stunned that he was going to get paid this huge sum of money every month to look after some rich mans daughter; although he felt guilty that he couldn't stop thinking about how much he wanted to fuck her senseless ever since he saw her.

---

Incidents

I've decided to pursue my idea of a polyamorous relation between Dante Meande and Vergil and here is the set up to that. It was written in a hurry 😅 and it's hella long

@minteyeddemon (I figure you'd wanna be tagged haha)

Word count: 2,321 ish (sorry I'm on mobile and can't do keep reading cut offs unless someone wants to tell me how anyway lmao)

~~

INCIDENT ONE

    Things couldn’t be running smoother at Devil May Cry with two extra hunters -Cassiel and Vergil- it seems the money really began to flow through. Meande took less jobs to stay back at the office to do her paperwork having way more of it now than just a handful of months ago, which left her at the office alone for several days at a time, which she both loved and hated. She loved that Dante’s business was finally looking to the brighter side, but she hated feeling so lonely sometimes.

    Most days when she’s caught up on her work, she reads, but this particular day she decided to listen to her playlist of different cello arrangements. She closed her eyes, listening to the melancholic tones, absently miming the finger positions and the bow movements as she did so. Meande was so caught up in the action, she didn’t hear Vergil enter the shop, closing the door behind him, he turned to greet her, but stopped himself in favor of watching her. Having retained the memories of the days his human half spent with Meande, he remembered her telling him that she used to own and play a cello back in Fortuna and that the instrument had been destroyed in the attack.

    As he watched her, he felt the same odd stirring he gets off and on when he's around her, it’s rare that he gets any kind of alone time with the quirky girl, so when he does, he tends to memorize everything that’s happening in that moment. He wouldn’t dare condescend to admit aloud that he’s grown quite fond of the shorter girl, which did annoy him in its own right, mainly because he knows she’s with his brother, which subsequently leads to the other part of his annoyance over the situation; Vergil feels Meande is a better fit for him. Dante doesn’t appreciate the finer things that interests Meande like Vergil would. Meande’s gasp finally brought Vergil from his thoughts.

    “Oh, heya Dimples. I didn’t hear ya come in.” She was openly embarrassed over being caught, cheeks flushed a lovely shade of pink, causing her freckles to stand out more and she quickly paused the music, motioning for him to bring over the money he earned so she could get to work separating out the funds. He walked over to her desk, holding out the manila envelope for her to take.

    “How long did you play?”  He asked in his typical matter-of-fact demeanor, which Meande is finally coming to be able to decipher. before she had a hard time deciding if he was being patronizing or sincere, but has learned to watch his microexpressions between how he is when speaking to her versus speaking with Dante.

    “I started at four years old, mom said she could see the music in me.” She scratched her shoulder shyly, letting out a small laugh. “Only to someone with psionic powers could a statement like that make any fuckin’ sense.” He gave her a smile and a chuckle, and she leaned her elbows on her desk, cradling her chin in her palms. “You should smile more, I really do like your dimples.” She complimented, which caused him to clam up and made his body tense, like he does every time she says anything sweet to him, and she giggled, having caught onto that fact quickly. His reticent manner was something she also had to get used too, especially after living with Dante who is vocal about many things he feels.

    “Your eyes are enchanting.” He stated, rather bluntly, and it completely caught her off guard, causing her to lift her head from her hands. This was the first time Vergil admitted to liking anything about her, Meande was used to him using words like ‘tolerate’ and ‘endure’ when it came to how the elder twin felt about her. “When the early morning light catches them is my favorite. I really see the golden undertones then.” It was the most sincere statement he’s given her that didn’t come off as a lecture and she blushed again, playing with her fingers.

    “T-thanks.” She stammered, but all Vergil did was nod as an answer and disappeared up the stairs , leaving Meande alone again. She smiled sweetly at his words, unbeknownst that she wasn’t alone, Cassiel and Dante were both at the door, seeing Vergil and Meande so involved in their own conversation they hadn’t even noticed them.

INCIDENT 2

    Dante was over at Meande’s desk, finally having some down time, nuzzling and kissing on her neck, and she giggled, trying in vain to push him away so she could finish her work for the night.

    “Meande.” Vergil’s nasally tone was unamused, and it caused the duo to stop what they were doing.  Meande looked up at him, blushing but smiling at him, Dante straightened, sitting on the edge of her desk, turned so he could see them both.

    “Verg, what’s crackin’?” She asked, picking her pen back up to get back to work.

    “May have money from my account?” She looked up at him again, Vergil -like Dante- let Meande keep up with his money from his cuts from missions, and she smiled, nodding cheerily.

    “Of course, it’s your money after all, you don’t have to ask me.” She flipping through the notebook that had his account information in it, until she found a page that had a balance on it. “What’s cookin’ good lookin’?  How much are you needing?” She glanced back up at him, and noticed he was giving Dante several glances, knowing his twin was eager to know what he would need money for, and it made him seem reluctant to answer her. “Dimples...I’m gonna need to know, so I can properly subtract it from your books.”

    “Around six hundred.” Meande fumbled her pen, it clattered loudly against the floor after it bounced off of her desk, as she and Dante both gaped at him, and he tucked his chin in annoyance at them.

    “Jeez, Verg, you find a government hooker or somethin’?” Dante teased, finally breaking the silence, and Meande half laughed, moving to pick up her pen. Vergil shot Dante a highly unamused glare, which caused Dante to roar with laughter, and Meande sternly tapped Dante’s thigh with her pen.

    “Sure, ok, Vergil...but if you don’t mind me asking, what is it for?” Meande inquired, knowing Vergil hardly ever touches his account, so he has more than enough that six hundred dollars wouldn’t be much. Vergil tucked his chin again, the lightest pink blush gracing his features and she quickly caught on and she gave him a cheeky grin. “Wait, hold the phone. Dimples, you've met someone, haven’t you? You’re buyin’ this special chick somethin’ really nice, huh?” He shot an annoyed glare at her this time, because sometimes she just sounded too much like Dante.

    “As a matter of fact, yes.” He confessed, and Meande tried to hide the stab to her heart that admittance committed to her. She knew it shouldn’t hurt her, she’s happily in love with Dante, but there was just something about Vergil that just kept drawing her in. Dante folded his arms over his chest, eyes darting between the two, who were both oblivious to each others feelings.

    “Well, well, she’s some really special girl, huh?” Dante interjected, an odd edge in his jovial tones, causing him to sound both teasing and annoyed at the same time, which caused Meande to look up at him, eyebrows quirked in confusion.

    “Yeah, she must be.” Meande stated, subtracting the amount from his books, before turning in her chair to their safe, opening it and retrieving his money. “I really need to set you up for an account at the bank instead of keeping this here.” She muttered to herself as she counted out the money for him.

    “I like you dealing with my money.” He stated, taking the money from her and she laughed, about to explain she still would be, but she brushed it off for now.

    “What are you buying her?” Vergil looked between Meande and Dante.

    “It’s a surprise.” He answered simply, before leaving them to their own devices.

    “I’m sure it is.” Dante grunted, causing her to give him another confused look.

    “I wonder who he met?” She asked him, and he shrugged a shoulder. “Ok, what’s wrong, baby?” She cooed, running her hand up his thigh, and he looked down at her from his perch, wondering if she was really this oblivious, or just pretending to be for him, but he quickly disregarded the thought when she stood and straddled his lap and began kissing his neck.

~

    The next day, Meande was running back from the bank, having convinced Vergil his money would be safer there and that she was still going to tend to it for him, and a pop up rain shower now threatened to drown her. She was holding her empty satchel over her head to shield her dreads from the onslaught, digging in her jeans pocket with her other hand for her keys. Unlocking the door, she flung it open and hurried inside, slamming it shut behind her. She shook the satchel, freeing it of the water, moving towards her desk, but she dropped it on the floor when her eyes landed on the large gift leaning on her desk. A cello with an elaborately tied blue ribbon on the neck just below the nut. Honey eyes wide in shock and mouth agape, Meande gingerly ghosted her fingers over the polished wood.

    “Do you like it?” Vergil questioned from behind her and she squealed loudly, thankful she doesn’t teleport or phase anymore from scares, and she turned to him, hand over her heart.

    “Don’t sneak up on me like that.” She hissed, heart racing, but the irritation quickly ebbed when his question replayed itself in her mind. “You bought this for me?” She asked, smiling up at him gratefully, eyes shimmering as tears flooded them, and he nodded. “I’m the girl you needed the money for?” Another quick nod, and Dante emerged from the kitchen where he’d been eating leftover pizza, a slice still in his hand. He had seen Vergil bringing the instrument back, knowing all along that Meande was the girl his brother was talking about yesterday. Jealousy surged through his veins like icy gutter water, yet he was also happy that Vergil was slowly opening up to her. He had always known that they would get along if they had gotten the chance to meet, yet he couldn’t help but still be mad at himself for being so right. He didn’t know how to deal with what he saw blossoming before him, he wanted to say something, but what if this is just a friendship? It’s not like Vergil understands how friendships really work, so maybe there should be boundaries explained. "Vergil...I love it, but you didn’t have to buy me this.”

    “I did.” He said, flatly, but he held a smile on his lips. “You deserve everything you desire.” Okay, Dante decided that this was not a friendship, at Least on Vergil’s part  and he frowned, going back into the kitchen.

INCIDENT 3

    Meande stretched, her shoulders and back aching from playing her cello for so long, enjoying finally having one again. Cassiel was listening to her daughter, laid on the couch, eyes closed, relaxing comfortably, while Vergil was sitting at Dante’s desk, admiring her playing. He observed her discomfort and he stood. 

    “Come with me.” He commanded, taking the cello and bow from her, replacing them in their case, before walking up the stairs. Meande eyed her mother, who shrugged.

    “Go on, baby girl, I’ll man the shop for you.” Meande stood and quickly followed Vergil into his room, where he removed his coat and gloves, meticulously setting them on his dresser, and she froze in the doorway.

    “Lay on the bed.” She blushed, eyes trailing up and down his toned arms, but she obliged, unsure of what was happening. “On your stomach.” She blinked and flipped over like she was instructed and soon the bed dipped from the pressure of Vergil’s knee and he straddled her back. She was about to protest when it dawned on her, he was repaying her back with a massage like she’d given him before. She blushed, this being the first time Vergil has actively touched her without her coaxing it out of him in some way. His kneading was a little rougher than needed, and he adjusted it with the noises she made. After several minutes, he finally got the pressure right and Meande began to purr, laying her cheek on her hand, feeling the tension leaving her body.

    Vergil watched her profile as he worked, Meande’s purring very rhythmic and soft, and he smiled almost warmly, despite knowing he shouldn’t love her. He realizes that is what’s going on now, even if he didn’t want to admit it, but he let himself  react to it. He leaned down to her, nuzzling his nose against her neck and up to her cheek, his own deep purring rumbling in his chest. Meande tensed beneath him, her purring ceasing and her honey eyes flew open in surprise. 

    Vergil lifted his head slightly, letting her look at him better, his own purring grew louder, and she blushed heavily at the look in his eyes. After a few beats, Vergil  raised up slightly to allow her to roll over onto her back before he leaned down to nuzzle her again, and she closed her eyes, leaning into the gesture with her own nuzzles, her purring sounding again. 

    Dante leaned on the door frame with his forearm watching them nuzzling and purring like two dangerous house cats and he knew he needed to confront her about this tonight, before it got out of hand.

Perspective | Diamond

pairing: Taeil x CEO! reader

summary: Perspective Masterlist | perhaps he was a diamond in the rough. or perhaps she was simply paying back an old debt long overdue.

warnings: fem reader

words: 1.2k

~

the taste of the alcohol burned his tongue and scratched his throat. his tolerance for the drink had increased over just the course of the past few months. there was no funeral for his little sister. No body to burry. hardly anyone to mourn her.

in the world of crime and deceit she’d tangled herself in, there were no tears to be shed when you finally disappeared.

many nights Taeil found himself, staring into his wine glass, wondering where he’d lead them wrong. all he’d ever wanted, was to care for his family. to provide for his little sisters. but they had both chosen to drop him upon the first opportunity.

he drained the last glass, wondering if perhaps, he’d needed them more then they had needed him.

his youngest sister had come back to him. but even now, she was the one who helped him afford to leave the rundown apartment he’d lived the better part of his life in. she was the one who’d offered to find him a better job then the same dead end one he’d had for the much of her youth.

even now, he relied on her more then she needed him. he hated it. he was ashamed to be a dead weight on his baby sister. she was so young, but held so much wisdom and experience for her age.

she had been the once to introduce Taeil to a young woman. his baby sister knew the work ethic of her big brother, and she said she also knew someone in the need of that kind of perseverance.

‘someone who can protect you when i’m not around.’ his heart had sunk when those words fell from her lips. but... i wanted to protect you kitten... i’m sorry... i failed you.

~

Taeil’s attentioned was pulled back to reality at the sound of the heels clicking coming closer. he quickly disregarded it. there were many women in this office who wore heels. it was probably just someone wanting another cup of coffee.

“how’s it coming along, Taeil?” his back straightened at the sound of her voice.

“just fine Miss.” he bowed his head respectfully. she hummed with a smile, placing her hand on his shoulder.

“wonderful.” her voice was smooth and confident, just as always. “i stopped by because i wanted to give you this, personally.” she leaned down and handed him a red envelope.

Taeil furrowed his brows in confusion. “oh?” he wondered.

“it’s nothing much, just an invitation. i throw a party for all my employees every new years. and i give special invitations to my highest performers.” she continued to smile. “you haven’t been here long Taeil, but you’re a very fast learner with a strong work ethic. your diligence has not gone unnoticed.”

Taeil bowed his head once more. “thank you Miss.”

what Taeil found written inside the note, was not in fact an invitation.

‘Taeil, we have been hacked from the inside. you’re relation to your sister will almost certainly place you as a target. she entrusted me with your safety, and i gave her my word. when you leave today, please join me in my office and from there we will exit the building along with my security.’

he swallowed hard, reading the note once more to make sure he’d caught everything. taking a deep breath, he tried to relax.

no was not the time for panic, now was the time for calculation.

~

Taeil clutched the tan folder to his chest as he closed the door to her office behind him. inside it held his only possessions he’d brought to this place. mainly old photos and some of his work. nothing of value to anyone but him.

“good, you’re punctual.” the welcoming tone to her voice was nowhere to be fond. her stance now showed the cunning crime lord who hid beneath the charismatic business woman.

“...what do you want me to do Miss?” Taeil’s voice hend hesitancy. she glanced over at him with a raised brow as she placed a simple gold key into her breast pocket.

“i must say, you do surprise me Taeil.” her tone showed boredom as she stepped away towards another door. “you are such a simple man in comparison to your sisters. the youngest anyway.”

Taeil shifted his weight nervously, before quickly following after her as she unlocked the door. she held it open for him before looking to behind them. the door lead to an old industrial looking staircase, leading down towards what he guessed to be the basement.

“you are a trustworthy man Taeil,” she began to descend the staircase. “loyal, steady, but you lack something both of your sisters had.” Taeil quickened his pace to keep up with her.

“i... i’m sorry?” his voice wavered as he followed.

“you lack ambition.” she stated. his eyes fell to the cement steps at her words, holding his folder closer to his chest. “and it’s such a same to.”

“...i understand how you would come to that conclusion. but if i may, it isn’t that i lack ambition, so much as i gave it up.” he raised his head as he watched her steps slow at his words.

he now matched her steps as they continued down the stairs. “i do not fear my own demise. if someone were to take me for my relation to this gang, i would not fear death, nor pain. i fear for my baby sister, i’m the only family she has left now.”

“please that cat has shown she is more than capable on her own. she doesn’t need you.” she rolled her eyes. her words stung Taeil’s skin as she spat in bitterness.

“...perhaps not now, but that doesn’t mean she won’t ever.” he reasoned.

“your hope is admirable, but i see little reality placed in it.” she dismissed. finally the pair reached the bottom of the staircase. she unlocked the door and held it open for him to exit first.

Taeil entered into the pitch black basement. the only light from the open door vanished as she closed it.

“Miss? Miss is black as night, is everything alright?” Taeil called. he jumped as he felt a hand on his arm.

“...shh, we’re not alone.” her voice was a deadly whisper in his ear. Taeil felt a new wave or anxiety settle deep in his bones. “follow.” she tugged on his arm and he blindly wandered after.

the two walked in careful footsteps, the darkness making it impossible for him to see. the air was old but still somehow numbingly cold. there was no sharpness in the temperate, only a slow fade until you could no longer feel your toes in your shoes.

he felt her come to a stop, the warm hand on his shoulder leaving. the panic rose in his throat until she whispered. “stay.”

he heard her footsteps wandering farther away until, suddenly an unknown thud sound and a muffled yell.

Taeil let out a gasp and stumbled backwards, right into the chest of an unknown person. he made to scream but the sound was sealed from his lungs with the hands around his neck, squeezing.

he kicked and faught, twisting in the unknown person’s hold. however they were much taller and stronger then he, and he soon felt light headed. a small wheeze fell from his lips as he felt his consciousness faded away. his last thoughts, worries for his baby sister. how could she handle losing two elder siblings to this world of crime and deceit.

- Catch Up -

My stomach was twisting as I hovered my thumb over the screen of my phone, debating whether or not to text Max back or if it would be best to just ignore him and deal with the awkwardness when we were back in work on Monday. It was Saturday afternoon, and despite the fact that he had wandered over to my desk and asked me out on Wednesday, Thursday and Friday, I still hadn’t given him a definite answer. I was kind of surprised he’d even bothered texting me at all. I thought he might have surrendered after so much subliminal rejection. Maxwell Edison: I’m still free tonight! Would love to see you. Hope you’ve made your mind up by now XXX

I didn’t have a single thing scheduled in that would stop me from spending time with him, the only thing that was holding me back was the way I’d been feeling since Harry had turned up at my door on Wednesday night. I’d thought about him almost constantly since and my heart had been aching the entire time. I kept picturing his face, how he’d looked and trembled when I’d yelled at him, how broken he seemed by everything. I hated that he’d only turned up when there was enough alcohol in his system to give him the drive and desire to be around me again, but thinking back to what I’d seen and how he’d acted, there was something there that I hadn’t been able to focus on at the time. I’d been too frustrated and upset to take note of his tears, his refusal to leave, the way he’d kissed me. But I didn’t want to feel something for a boy who could only face me when the scenario suited him best. I didn’t want to open my heart to a boy who only wanted to take certain pieces of it and disregard the rest. I didn’t want to offer sympathy for a boy who wasn’t giving me enough of a reason to believe he’d earnt it. I was exhausted by it. Feeling sick to the stomach, I finally decided what my answer should be to Maxwell, my stomach twisting as plucked up the courage to reply. L: I’m free to grab a couple of drinks if you want. X Maxwell Edison: I want! Give me a time and place and I’ll be there XXX I gave him the name of a bar that was only a five-minute walk away from my flat, wanting to remain close to home so I could dash out of there rather quickly if I wanted to. That was another thing that was great about the double dating deal myself and Harry had gotten into; I didn’t feel anxious or unsafe. It was a little different going alone. It was nothing to do with Max himself, but just the idea of it all. I wasn’t quite as at ease as I would have been with Harry there helping me through it. Max text back within seconds telling me he was looking forward to it, and before I could panic and freak out and text him again already thinking up some kind of excuse that meant I could no longer meet him, there was a knock on my door. I hopped up off my bed and made my way down the hall, definitely questioning who would be knocking at my door on a Saturday afternoon, but mainly praying it wouldn’t be Harry. I opened the door to a different member of the Styles family. “Deb!” I gasped. “Hello, my love.” She moved in immediately and wrapped her arms around me, acting so casual and calm that I immediately knew her visit was neither casual or likely to remain calm. Her and Harry were close. They spoke on the phone often, and it was never too long between his visits to her or her visits to him. I knew full well that she would likely be up to speed on what had happened between us; whether she had all the details, I wasn’t sure, but I knew full well she’d at least know that the two of us were no longer speaking. I knew that was why she’d come to see me. After feeling hesitant for a few moments, I held her tightly, wrapping my arms around her and nestling my face into her hair and trying my best to hold in my tears. She had been a comfort to me more than once, a motherly figure who was close enough to care for me and be there when I needed her. I hadn’t realised how badly I just needed a cuddle from someone who really cared about me. We eventually parted, shooting each other rather knowing and sympathetic smiles. I exhaled dramatically, wondering just how much I could open up to her or what she’d have to say to me. “You fancy a brew?” I offered. “I’d love one, thank you.” She let herself inside fully, closing the door behind herself as I went towards the kitchen, speaking over my shoulder. “How’ve you been?” I asked. “I’ve been good, thank you. What about you?” “Up and down.” I answered honestly. I wandered straight to the kettle and flicked it on, turning around to see her pull up a stool that I had against the kitchen worktop and sit herself down. “Congratulations on the job!” She beamed, and immediately noted the confusion on my face. “Harry told me.” “Really?” “Of course he did. I always ask him how you are.” I dropped my head, unsure what to say, where I should take the conversation or where we could even begin. I didn’t really want to discuss what had been happening between me and Harry with anyone, never mind his mother. She was someone I had always been perfectly comfortable sharing with, so I couldn’t help but feel like she was just waiting for me to be open with her and share how I’d been feeling about the mess we’d gotten into, but it didn’t feel so easy this time around. “Well, thank you.” I grumbled. “But… I’m not sure I’m gunna… stay in Liverpool for much longer so… I doubt I’ll even make it past the probation period.” “Really?” “Don’t tell Harry. I’ll… I’ll tell him myself, eventually. When I’ve… got a solid plan.” “I thought you really loved it here?” “I do! It’s… the best place but… I think I might need a change.” The kettle clicked as she just looked at me with sympathy in her eyes, sighing a little. I looked away from her, preparing our drinks and trying to remain calm, but the more she looked at the me that way it was as though I could see the queries she had bulging up inside her. She was bound to lead the conversation towards me and Harry at any moment, and I didn’t feel ready. “I’ve just been with him.” She spoke, but I kept my back to her. “He’s missing you a lot.” “Mm.” I shuddered. “How is he?” “He’s not good, Lona. I’m not sure you are, either.” I didn’t say a word again until the drinks had been fully made and I was placing her tea down in front of her, hating the way she could just look at me so confidently and I couldn’t even bring myself to let our eyes meet. “I think we ruined everything.” I swallowed. “I dunno what he’s told you-” “Enough.” She interrupted, smiling. “I don’t need any more details.” I chuckled appreciatively, knowing then that she had more than enough information about what had happened between the two of us. I wondered what he’d said. I knew even if I asked her, she’d give me some roundabout answer and I’d never know word for word, which was what I truly wanted. She wasn’t coming round to gossip and speak on his behalf, I knew that. She was there to try and hear my side of the story, and give me some honest advice. My laughter died far too quickly, pain once again taking control. “You know I think the world of him,” I ran a shaky hand through my hair. “But he’s made me feel so… worthless. I didn’t think he ever would, because it’s Harry, and I don’t think he means to, but he has and I just keep getting so angry.  Even when he tries to explain himself, all he does is make me feel worse. So I don’t wanna hear it anymore.” She nodded, seeming to completely understand why I was feeling that way. He’d left me the morning after, and I’d tried to fix things. He told me he was worried I loved him, and I let him into my home and let his lips meet mine again without any explanation. I kept trying to ignore the signs that told me he was treating me poorly, but the second I’d noticed he was drunk I’d snapped. My anger had formed a life of its own. All I could think was that I didn’t mean as much to him as I once thought I had, or hoped I had. “Well, I told him he’s an idiot,” She spoke confidently. “Because he is. He’s acted like a fool and he knows it.” “Good.” “But… he loves you, Lona. More than you know. More than I know. I just think… he struggles with this kind of thing.” “What kind of thing?” “Love.” “Deb-” “The only thing I’m confident of right now is how much he loves you. You need to look at the four years of friendship you’ve had and how he’s treated you then, rather than… the idiotic way he’s been recently.” We’d never even really argued before any of this. We had been so close for so long and things had been next to perfect for the majority of our time together. She was right, I did need to think about the way things had been before, how he’d been with me, the love he’d shown me and how much he always proved he cared about me. I’d been so wrapped up in his recent actions that it was almost like I’d driven myself to this state of mind where I blocked out how he’d been with me before, maybe as a way of coping, maybe as a way of staying angry with him. I didn’t want to keep caving and forgiving him for the things he’d done without us even having a real discussion about everything, and it was so hard to remain irate when I thought about how wonderful he had been before we got ourselves into this mess. “He’s never been good with this sort of thing, even when he was young. He struggles.” “I know he does, but that’s not an excuse. I tried to hear him out, but that just made me feel worse! And I feel like… I was willing to forgive at first, but he crossed a line. His main worry was me caring about him, so… If he doesn’t want me to… love him, then I won’t! I can’t! I…” I could see that she was getting emotional and overwhelmed, so that then reflected in me. Soon, I was fighting back tears, reaching out for her hand once she’d offered it and squeezing it tightly. I hated seeing that this was upsetting her too because it only reminded me just how special what me and Harry had was, what we’d ruined. There seemed to be something blocking us. We had this inability to fix things and I felt like it was slowly killing me. “You need to talk to him.” “I haven’t heard from him since I kicked him out the other night.” “He told me he doesn’t want to push his luck. Said you mentioned calling the police on him.” “I did.” I lowered my head again. “Would you approach him again? If it had been the other way around? He loves you, he doesn’t want to hurt you. He feels like he’s hurting you.” I exhaled, nodding and accepting what she was saying, because I understood that at least. What had happened the other night had been awful, and I’d been so blunt with him. I’d finalised the situation and told him I wanted him out of my life. I couldn’t blame him for not approaching me again. But even if he did, with the way our past two meetings had gone, I knew it was likely that whatever he had to say for himself would only make me feel worse. Though my head was still a mess, it was clear that the two of us were not on the same page. He was hurting me, and if he wanted to stay away from me to keep himself from hurting me further, that was probably the gutsiest thing he’d done since he kissed me that night. “He’s seen me heartbroken one too many times.” She continued. “I think it scares him a lot, the idea of hurting someone’s heart that way. Especially yours, Lona.” “But he keeps hurting me!” “Never purposefully.” I couldn’t decide if that made me feel any better. The concept of him not being aware that the way he’d been acting and the things he’d been doing would hurt me made me uncomfortable. The thought that his moves had so little thought or care that he wasn’t even thinking of the aftermath of his actions or how I would feel. Yet I knew that to be true. He'd never had any intention of hurting me, whether he had or not. “I’ve never seen him like this. I could barely drag him out of bed today.” Deb spoke calmly, her tone assisting with my composure. “I know he’s acted like a royal fool, but the bottom line is that you two mean too much to each other to let this drag you apart. You mean more to him than anyone else, and I can’t sit by and watch you both… mess it up when you love each other so much. It’s not right. You need to go and speak to him, when you’re both sober.” “He should come to me.” “He’s too worried! He thinks he’s already ruined everything, I know he wouldn’t dare! He thinks you hate him. C’mon, Lona, you know what he’s like. He’s useless with communicating how he feels, but he’s trying. He’s just… doing a bad job of it. Think about it. Think about the boy you know.” I nodded again, wishing I could push the way his actions looked to the back of my mind and piece together what it all meant, what I’d believe he was doing and how he was feeling if I was an outsider and he was acting this way with another girl. “Does he miss me?” I asked to the floor. “To the point where I’m genuinely worried about him.” “You’re always worried about him.” I tittered. “So are you.” “Urgh, I know.” I rolled my eyes. “Deb, I just can’t stop thinking about him.” I felt like nothing I could say would surprise her. I’d been so adamant that I wouldn’t admit out loud that I’d been feeling that way, that he had accompanied every single thought I’d had since the very first time he kissed me, maybe even beforehand, because I felt immensely exposed and naïve and somewhat stupid. Admitting that it had been impossible to get him off my mind almost came as a surprise to me, but she just nodded, like she knew everything that the two of us didn’t. “But I feel like such an idiot,” I started crying fully then. “Because I feel like I’m fighting for a friendship and he’s… fighting for something else.” “Something else?” “When he came to see me the other night I felt like he’d rather kiss me than anything else and I just let him and it was so stupid because… we used to mean so much to each other and now I think he just sees me as someone he can…” I didn’t know how to word it that would feel appropriate for his mother to hear, but she knew full well what I meant, thankfully. “He’s not like that.” She stuck up for him, like I knew she would, like I used to. “But I think we see the best in him, don’t we?” I shot back. “We see the best sides of him because that’s what he gives us. We see the best in him because that’s what we want to see! But he’s still just a boy, and that’s okay! I don’t want to… hate him for that, but I don’t want to be just some girl to him!” She tilted her head to the side, almost like she was on the verge of tutting or rolling her eyes, sighing briefly before she spoke again. “Bellona, you really need to think about what you just said to me, and what that means.”

Max raised to his feet as soon as he saw me, letting myself inside and shooting him an exceptionally shy wave, my heart rate reaching an alarming pace. I cursed repetitively under my breath as I approached him, half regretting my decision to meet him already because I knew I was just going to make a bloody fool of myself and I’d just make things at work twice as awkward as they would have been if I’d just rejected him in the first place. As soon as I got to him, he gently placed his hand on my waist and leaned inwards to plant a very subtle kiss on my left cheek, one that made me feel all sweet and giggly, though I tried to hide it. “Nice to see you outside of work.” Was his chosen opening line, one that felt charming and casual enough to keep me at ease. “You too.” I returned. “You still look really sharp, though!” He glanced down to his outfit like he wasn’t already fully aware of what he’d chosen to put on. He was wearing a crisp white shirt that was so absurdly bright I wondered if he’d bought it especially for the occasion. He’d tucked it into some dark suit pants that were tight fitting, rolled up at the bottom and black Dr Martens on his feet with bright yellow laces. He looked incredible. “Oh, thanks!” He beamed. “You’re not looking too bad yourself.” “I always aim for not too bad, so thank you.” I felt physically sick, so much so that my main aim in those moments was to try not to vomit on the poor boy and just act as normal as possible. He seemed so sweet and so keen on getting to know me and I really didn’t want to put him off, despite not being fully aware what I wanted from dating him anyway. Even sleeping with him was an option since I didn’t plan on staying at work for too much longer! I still knew I’d end up feeling unfortunately attached to him, if that did happen, but at least I wouldn’t be around to face it. And if it meant the possibility of feeling a little less attached to the night I’d had with Harry, that couldn’t be a bad thing. We were sitting ourselves down when I realised that I was shaking so much it was likely he could see my trembles. “M’sorry, I’m really nervous.” There were literal goose-bumps all over my body. “How come?” “I just… never really do this.” “What? Go on dates? Bullshit.” “No, I mean, yeah! I go on dates, but… me and a friend of mine got into the habit of double dating a few years back, so I feel pretty useless on my own.” “Double dating?” He flummoxed. “That sounds… awful.” “Why?” “I just… I think you see so much more of a person when it’s one on one. Even nerves… I see that as a good thing, y’know? I dunno, it might be selfish, but I kinda want you all to myself.” He fashioned a tempting smirk. “I guess it was just a nice… fall-back, which I needed on a lot of those dates! A good escape route, if you will.” I clarified. “And like, the first one we went on, the girl who was supposed to come for him stood him up and I remember thinking… yeah, this is why he wants to do it, because he’s not sat here on his own at least. It cushioned the blow. Felt… safer. I dunno, it’s silly.” There was a certain look in his eyes, one that I was convinced I hadn’t seen for a while; it was a look that said he genuinely was interested in getting to know me, intrigued about what I was saying, crying just to learn more. I felt like maybe I’d recently been craving that kind of attention without fully realising I was. “I promise you, you don’t have anything to worry about with me.” He smiled pleasantly. “No need for an escape route. I promise I won’t… hit you over the head with a hammer or anything.” “Oh god.” I cringed, hiding my face and sloping down in my chair. “I listened to that song, by the way, after your little… breakdown-” “Can we not talk about it?” “-and it’s really weird! I’m really hoping I wasn’t named after it, but I don’t dare ask!” He was putting me at ease with much more speed than I’d been anticipating, setting me off into a fit of giggles over the thought of him being genuinely worried to ask his parents if they’d named him after a mythical murderer. “I made such a fool of myself.” I quailed. “It was endearing as fuck.” He defended. “I thought you were adorable.” “Mm. Suppose that’s a step up from not too bad.” “Next thing, I’ll be calling you beautiful.” “You’ll be lying.” I sneered. “I bloody won’t!” Talking to him that way and being so playful helped me to realise that maybe we’d been flirting at work and I hadn’t noticed, because nothing felt different to how we spoke with one another in the office. He certainly hadn’t called me beautiful before, but the way we were bouncing off one another and quipping was certainly not uncharted territory. It didn’t feel any different to every other conversation we’d had. Excluding the god-awful Maxwell Edison one. I gradually sat myself up again, my cheeks burning as I uncovered my face, wishing he would take his eyes off me for just a second or two so I could relax a little. “So, you want a drink or what?” He asked. “Sure.” “Let’s order these and go find a table somewhere. I hate sitting at the bar all night.” “It makes ordering the drinks so much quicker though!” I enlightened. “You’ve got issues.” He sniggered. Finally, he looked away, turning his head to try and grab the bartender’s attention, giving me the chance to straighten my hair and waft my hand over my face in an attempt to create cool air, the knots in my stomach beginning to loosen. I couldn’t remember the last time I felt that way on a date. Usually within the first few minutes I’d already experienced some kind of warning signal telling me it should be a no, but it was actually going really well. I felt like the last time I’d been on a date where I felt so nervous and giggly and gooey was when I’d dated Ash, and even though he’d ended up being a total bastard, for a while we had quite a happy relationship, one I’d cherished. Once we’d ordered and received our drinks, we spotted a table at the back of the bar where I predicted we would spend the rest of our evening, chatting and flirting and possibly, maybe, perhaps sharing a kiss. But as we made our way over there, someone called my name. “Bellona!” I heard, immediately glancing around and searching for the culprit. “Hey, Lona!” All too soon, I spotted who’d asked for my attention, amazed by the friendly smile and wave I was receiving from her. It must have been the most pleasant way she had ever greeted me in her life. Sara. She summoned me over, my feet begging me to run out the door and escape the situation rather than go over to her, but I knew that wasn’t really an option. “Uh… Go sit down,” I turned to Max. “I’ll catch you up in a minute.” “No worries.” He smiled, and went on his way. Awkwardly, I shimmied past table and weaved my way towards her, my stomach forming back into knots so tight I thought I may collapse, questioning how my luck could be so bad. Before I’d even got there, she leaned across the table and spoke to the girl across from her, who swiftly got to her feet and left the situation, sending my nerves skyrocketing. I had no idea what she would even want to say to me, after everything. We’d gotten on well enough when her and Harry were together, but a lot had happened since then and I knew that the whole time she hadn’t been as fond of me as I had maybe thought he she was. “Hey.” I gulped when I reached her. “Hi! Y’alright?” She spoke cheerily. “Mm, are you?” “Yeah, I’m good. Sit down!” She demanded, her voice still bright. I did as I was told, realising I wasn’t just nervous because she’d been with Harry and sort of tried to mess up our friendship, but because I’d fucked her ex-boyfriend on the day she broke up with him! I doubted she knew that and I definitely wasn’t going to tell her, but it was still what had happened, and I was hyper aware of it as I took my place at the table. I had no idea what to say to her, or what she was planning on saying to me, all I knew was that I needed to try a little harder and make conversation with her. “So… how’ve you been?” I asked. “I’ve been fine.” She replied. “The breakups… still a little fresh, but it was the right thing to do.” “M’sorry. Must be… shit.” “How is he?” “Um…” I stalled. “He’s… alright, I think? Not seen too much of him recently. I-I’ve just started a new job so I’ve been busy.” “Congrats!” “Thanks.” I knew were bound to talk about him, because really, he was the only common ground that we shared, but that didn’t make the conversation any easier. I didn’t want to tell her that the two of us weren’t talking, because that would summon questions that I definitely couldn’t answer. But thankfully, it seemed she had something to say herself. “Look, I just wanted to say sorry.” She began rather awkwardly. “With… what happened on Harry’s birthday. Felt like… a bit of an idiot, when I realised you’d tried to… cover my back. It… It was nothing personal, and I’m sorry.” At that point, it felt rather useless being angry with her. She hadn’t needed to try and ruin mine and Harry’s friendship as we were perfectly capable of doing that all by ourselves. So I simply nodded and shrugged a little, praying she didn’t have much else to say for herself because I really wanted to leave. Yet she just sat there, looking across to me as though she was waiting for me to say something, so I plucked up the courage and asked her something that had been playing on my mind. “Why did you break up with him?” Suddenly, her mood lowered, and it finally seemed as though we were on the same level, feeling the same way, just as uncomfortable as each other. She shuffled in her seat, opening her mouth sporadically a few times as though she was about to start talking, but then she’d just stop herself. Eventually, she found the words. “Do you know what it’s like,” She looked down to the table. “To… be with someone and feel like you’re just constantly waiting for them to break up with you? For them to… see sense, and just end things. That’s what being with him was like.” “I don’t-” “It was awful. And I tried so hard. I tried not to be one of those people who couldn’t deal with her fella being friends with a girl, but your friendship is not… it’s not a friendship. It’s more than that, whether you can admit it or not.” I was stunned into silence, just gazing across to her with absolutely nothing to say. I’d denied this same thing so many times, but it had been easier previously. When people used to question our friendship, it was easy to turn around and roll my eyes and think they were foolish, but since then I had kissed him, slept with him, cried more tears over him than I had for any other boy, and made the decision to leave the city I loved most just in the hope of escaping him. So I just stared, dumbfounded. “And that night… for his birthday, I snapped. He was just… yelling at me, telling me how people had tried to ruin your friendship before and that I shouldn’t bother because it would never work. Said you were his priority, and you always would be.” “What… What did you say?” I grumbled. “I told him how much it hurts… loving someone who loves someone else.” She was clearly still a little hurt by what had happened that night. “Called him a coward. Told him he needs to face up to everything and admit that he loves you. Not just loves you, but he’s in love with you.” “He’s not.” “He is. For fuck sake, open your eyes, Lona!” She cried. “He was stood there, in the street outside the restaurant… telling me how much you mean to him… and how if I even tried to get closer to him and push you out, I’d be fighting a losing battle, and I was sick of it! Because that was how I’d felt for our entire relationship, I just couldn’t admit it until he did it for me. No one should be in a relationship and feel like they’re second best, it’s not fair! And he made me feel that way all the time. It was never fully conscious, but he did.” A part of me wished I could tell her how he’d been acting with me recently, how I seemed to have become this girl his drunken mind desired and his sober mind dismissed. I could feel an almost physical pain thanks to the things she was saying to me, piercing through my heart with little care or precision. I wanted to tell her how he’d been acting and the way he’d been treating me because maybe that would silence her and ease the pain. “Y’know, he told me I couldn’t go with him to his home town for his mum’s birthday. Said it was a personal thing, that it was just gunna be the two of them. Then he took you and he didn’t even tell me. I found out from you.” “That was a last-minute thing.” I tried to justify his actions, for the first time in a while. “I only went because I lost my job!” “It doesn’t matter now. I was bored of it, and I told him that night. I’d been drinking so… even though we argued, I left it a while before ending things. I was hoping I was just reading into things and making it something it wasn’t, but I knew. He told me everything that night.” “What d’ya mean?” “I was literally in his face telling him to admit he loves you, and to leave me and save me the fucking agony of waiting for him to want me when all he really wants is you.” “Wh-what did he say?” “Nothing.” She sighed. “He said absolutely nothing. No argument, no protests, no telling me I was wrong. He said nothing.” I had no idea how to gage or accept or fathom what it was she’d just said to me. My current situation appeared to me like a riddle, one I couldn’t even comprehend, where all the words meshed together and barely made sense in the order they were presented to me. For the first time in quite a while, I really wanted to speak to him, to approach him and talk to him about everything, things we hadn’t even acknowledged or admitted to ourselves or one another beforehand. The lines of my life were blurred and I felt like he was the only one who could bring them into focus again. But instead, I was sat there, lifeless and numb and silent, staring into the eyes of his ex-girlfriend who claimed to understand more than either myself or Harry combined could decipher. I felt a hand on my shoulder a few moments later, turning my head to see Max looking down to me, as gentle and kind as ever. “If you wanna do this another time-” He began. “No.” I reacted instantly. “No, it’s okay. We’re done, it’s okay.” I got to my feet, feeling rather lightheaded, both me and Sara weakly attempting to return to normal and break the atmosphere we’d created. “Sorry.” She mumbled one last time. “Me too.” I said, shooting her a smile as Max began heading back to our table. “M’sorry you… felt that way.” “It’s not your fault. Not really.” She shrugged. “Nice to see you.” “You too.” I sighed, and despite everything, it was the truth. As I made my way back to Max, I looked over my shoulder one last time to see her before she was out of sight, watching her friend sit back down at the table, shooting me an unfriendly glare as she did, to which Sara just shook her head. Both my head and my heart had never felt so heavy.

MIYAMOTO Seiji (宮本静児)

AGE: 17 y/o (2 years after Kyuubi attack)

HEIGHT: 174 cm

WEIGHT: 62 kg

BIRTHDAY: May 19

AFFILIATION: Konohagaure

RANK: Tokubetsu Jonin

SPECIALTY: Medical Ninja

PROMOTIONS:

Genin - 9 years old (graduation)

Chunin - 13 years old (field promotion)

T. Jonin - 17 years old (recommendation)

[all promotion ages were made in the context of the time, and referring to the promotion ages of a variety of canon characters, so i hope it’s not too outlandish!]

ELEMENTAL NATURE: Water Release

PERSONALITY:

Seiji is a well meaning young man who can be quite blunt and gruff at times. He is also rather stubborn, often clinging onto his own ideals and values, resulting in him being uncompromising to people who challenge them. Despite this, he is incredibly reliable and committed to his practice, often to the point of unknowingly harming himself for the better of others.

Over the years, Seiji has come to cultivate a deep hatred for the world in response to the wars he had participated in. His anger mainly revolves around himself, as he resents the fact that he is unable to relax during peacetime, having known nothing but war for his entire life. Seiji is determined to suppress his anger (or at least keep it to himself) and so remains polite, exercising control and patience to the best of his abilities. He maintains a professional manner towards everyone he meets, refusing to allow others to know that he’s drowning. 

While Seiji can be incredibly bitter, the only people he can’t seem to muster up ill thought towards are his own patients, who are neither hateful nor spiteful, but in the very last moments of their life, simply an accumulation of their dreams and hopes. Seiji sees himself as something of a protector, or a guardian of these hopes, and so his sole motivation is to prolong the lives of other people so that they may accomplish their own dreams.

BACKGROUND:

Seiji was born a year before the beginning of the Second Shinobi World war to an unaffiliated travelling merchant from the Lightning country and a young chakra sensitive civilian girl. The father left as soon as Seiji was conceived, and the girl gave birth to her son before dying from the build up of stress and chakra fluctuations that occurred. Seiji was sent to the orphanage, before he enrolled at the academy at the age of 5.

With the war coming to a close, the Academy pumped out as many genin as they could in an attempt to fuel the war effort by graduating children who were young enough to be expendable but mature enough to jump when they were told to. Seiji graduated in the final months of the war, assisting in protecting trade routes, delivering resources to outposts and other tasks. During this time, Seiji came to believe that everything people did was for a cause, no matter how petty or terrible that reason was. His belief that every action was for a reason allowed him to dream of a day where there would be no reason for war and so peace would come.

Konoha enters roughly a year of peace under an armistice before the world is thrown into chaos again in the form of the Third Shinobi World War. Seiji and his team undertake a variety of C ranked missions, including one where they team up with another genin team in order to clear a weak enemy outpost. However, it turns out that their intelligence was wrong and the two teams are faced by an entire platoon of chunin. The two jonin teachers attempt to hold off the enemies and allow enough time for the six genin to escape, but are soon overwhelmed and killed. The genin decide whether or not to run, but remember their shinobi rules.

Rule No. 4 - “A shinobi must always put the mission first.”

The genuine put their heads together, strategise, and make one final joke.

Go hard or go home.

They go hard.

Not all of them go home.

Two out of the initial eight return to Konoha with 30 dead enemy bodies sealed inside a batch of scrolls, and five dead comrades sealed within another batch.

The two remaining genin are given field promotions and an order to rest for a week before rejoining the war effort. 

Seiji wallows in guilt, wondering if he only he had an additional chakra pill, or been able to heal his teammate’s infection to stop him from dying on the trip home, or known how to stop his best friend from bleeding out. Seiji wonders and wonders before he gets up and applies to become a medical ninja. His ability to manipulate and understand chakra is an added bonus, along with his chakra sensitivity, but in the end it’s the blood that he still hasn’t been able to wash off that makes the medic nin accept him.

He develops a callous disregard for his own health and state - after all, if he had been able to heal his comrades and do better, perhaps two genin would have been able to come home instead just his single person. After all, if every life is equally valuable, then more is better, right?

For a year Seiji undergoes an accelerated course in medical ninjutsu and practices, aided by his excellent chakra control and innate understanding of the human body. At the age of 14 Seiji, along with another batch of medical ninja, are deployed to a camp out near the frontline. From then on, he spends day after day healing people who hobble out of the medical tent only to blow up and return straight back again. He survives on roughly 5 hours of sleep each night and is on a constant rotation. The jonin commander calls for him and tells him what an excellent job Seiji is doing, that Konoha is proud to have him on her side, and that he is doing a great help towards the war effort.

Seiji stares numbly at the ground, gives a sharp bow before returning to the medic tent, and promptly buries his hands into a Chunin’s bloodied leg in order to remove leftover shrapnel of an exploding kunai.

He used to think that everything was for a reason. That every action had a purpose. But this? This war of attrition which is simply draining the village’s resources and sending her men out for slaughter? There is no reasoning in this. He looks over the tent of bleeding people and vows to himself that one day, he is going to heal someone who has a dream and a reason that will change the world.

 CURRENT STORY:

He steadily rose in the ranks, and developed a reputation for having an excellent work ethic and single minded dedication. Now a recently promoted Tokubetsu Jonin, specialising in chakra manipulation and pathways, Seiji is surprised when a harried medic drags him towards the intensive care unit and shoves him in without warning. He takes one look at the bleeding figure on the table (spiky silver hair. a mask covering his face. three swirling tomoe in a single red eye. a legend. a war hero. Seiji has seen him once on the battlefield. he has never felt more glad to be facing the back of that man) and feels himself begin to sweat.

This is going to be interesting.

NOTABLE ABILITIES and COMBAT PROWESS:

Chakra Sensitivity - this allows Seiji to have the incredible chakra control and manipulation that he has. It allows him to be able to sense other people from a distance away, however without proper training, Seiji is unable to distinguish individual chakra signatures between layers of natural chakra, causing it to often be quite unreliable. In addition to this, he is quite susceptible to killer intent, and so experiences lapses in his movements when on the battlefield.

While he has the ability to shape and regulate the amount of chakra he uses with almost god-like precision, Seiji lacks the imaginiation to become a genjutsu specialist. As a medic-nin, Seiji is forbidden to participate on the front lines. Due to this, his taijutsu physical strength is sorely lacking (especially for a ninja of his calibre). Most of his knowledge of ninjutsu stems from medical ninjutsu, though he does know a few water release jutsus.

NOTABLE TECHNIQUES:

Healing Chakra Manipulation Technique - developed during the war, this technique can only be done with an extensive knowledge of chakra pathways and a high level of chakra control. This was adapted by Seiji, who sought to take advantage of his chakra sensitivity. It was made to fix chakra disturbances within the body by making the user’s chakra interact with the patient’s chakra, guiding and tugging it until it is in the proper configuration. However, this should only be used as a last resort, as touching someone else’s chakra with your own, in it’s purest form, is incredibly intimate and can cause both people to feel disgusted/tainted. If the chakra signatures are incompatible, it can result in cardiac arrest for both people, sudden loss of brain activity, and possibly death. This technique must be done with the consent of both people, and even then, with great caution.

NINJA STATS:

Ninjutsu: 3.5

Taijutsu: 2.5

Genjutsu: 3

Intelligence: 4

Strength: 2.5

Speed: 3

Stamina: 3

Hand seals: 3

TRIVIA:

does a lot of gardening

speaks to his plants like they’re his personal diary or something

drinks a lot of tea

[as in. a lot.]

likes to hum ditties that he remembers from his time at the orphanage

does regular check up on himself to insure that his freckles/moles aren’t skin cancer because people keep asking him about them

can communicate with his eyebrows alone

hates being indebted to people

has an opinion on everything and everyone

he’s one part anger, two parts regret and three parts snark

even though he puts a great deal of effort into exercising patience and control, he will110% kick you out if you’re making a ruckus in the hospital

likes doing laundry

Thank you so much for taking the time to review my angry son. I hope you have a lovely day!

i am sincerely sorry for the long wait. to be honest, i got swamped with life and completely forgot i had this blog!

overall, i’ve gotta say that i love seiji. he’s adorable and a cute lil angry bean. i saw nothing wrong with what you’ve submitted to me, and simply love his story and character in general.

thank you for introducing me to him!

Astrology Information:

1. Taurus (Sun), Capricorn (Moon), Taurus (Rising)

2. If I were born again, I’d really like to have a Pisces Sun, Pisces Moon, and Libra Rising.  I just love the mystical sense that Pisces gives off, and their ability to know about their emotions without the tendency of being overwhelmed by them is just a quality I will be eternally envious of.  And Libra Rising because I’ve never been the sociable type, but Air signs always know how to keep a conversation going, and Libra’s ruling planet is the same as Taurus’: Venus!

3. I feel like my ideal placement for a soulmate (romantically) would be...Aries Sun, Pisces Moon, Aquarius Rising.  Aries Sun because the Aries I have ever met are just extremely fun to be around, plus they have that spark in their eyes that just brightens your day (blows a kiss to all my Aries Suns).  Pisces Moon because of the reasons formerly stated, and Aquarius Rising because they can be outgoing but also intellectual.

Hobbies:

1. I really enjoy writing and drawing in my bullet journal, I make a spread every week and I even made an account for it with my friend Dom (@bujobaddies)

2. I play some instruments (Violin, Viola, Piano mainly) and I’m also in my school’s orchestra, I learned Viola unintentionally actually because my teacher was holding auditions again even for returning students to place them in certain positions and since we didn’t have a large viola section, he allowed anyone willing to learn viola to play it in the orchestra without auditioning.  Too scared to audition with my violin, I picked up the Viola instead.

3. AND DID YOU GUYS ALSO KNOW I RAN AN ASTROLOGY BLOG?!?!?!  But seriously I love having this blog to look at and to see how people react to or think about our posts, even if they don’t necessarily like what we’re posting!  I love seeing people’s suggestions.  

Personal Stuff:

1. I’m gay, and honestly I’m still not used to being able to say it, much less type it and seeing it for myself.  For such a long time I denied this part of myself to have light shed upon it because I was ashamed of it because of what my parents told me about homosexuality.  But eventually I came to disregard the homophobic things they’ve said and slowly I’ve started to embrace it!  Even though accepting my sexuality was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do, it was no doubt one of the best things, and I’m elated that I lack the fear to share this part of my self with you :).

2. I really, and I mean REALLY want to get into college.  Like I’m not exactly the brightest student (in a history test I turned in my test and I was wondering why I had turned it in so early and I was MAD confident but then I realized there was a back page that I completely forgot to do and yeah I got docked 30% for that) but I’m trying my best!  My top three schools as of now are University of Washington (it’s my dream school, so not exactly a target), University of Oregon, and then San Diego State University (although my Mom is against me going to this one).  

3. Speaking of college, my dream job is to become a Speech Language Pathologist (SLP for short, aka Speech Therapist)!  I really love sign language (I’ll be taking 3 years of it by this June, as of now 2 years) and to be quite honest It’s just a fascinating language to me!  I also like social sciences in general, like psychology and sociology (though I’ve yet to take the latter!) but I’m really wishing on a star to get into one of those 3 schools with this major!

4. I’ll be an incoming senior this fall, and honestly I’m rather scared.  All my friends have their SAT scores and GPA thingies all set and I’m still here trying to take the test.  But nonetheless I’m really hoping that I can pull through and not only succeed my senior year, but HAVE FUN TOO!  And also, congrats to all you folks in the class of 2018!  We done good :)

5. To be quite honest, Gender isn’t really something I care much for (in context to myself, of course).  Like if I woke up and biologically became a girl I’d be like “oh ok sure”.  Joey and I have actually talked about this, and I forgot what she said in particular (srry bb) but I remember saying that I would want the name Rose, pronounced Rose or Rose-ee (no particularly deep reason, literally it’s because that’s the stage name of one of my favorite Kpop performers).

Fun Facts:

1.  I hate room temperature water, I’m sorry but it’s just nasty

2. The reason why the blog is called risingemini and not ascendantaurus is because my dad gave me my wrong birth time when I started this blog, and gave me the hour AFTER I was born:D.  By the time I got the correct time I thought it was too late, and that Joey and I would stick with risingemini

3. My taste of music is rather disappointing. For the majority of the time i listen to Kpop (my friend asked me to do a ‘the signs as kpop groups’ and i snorted.  Btw for those interested my top 5 groups are Sistar, BESTie, f(x), Wondergirls, and 4minute) and if I DO listen to English music, well I’m particularly basic so its largely pop.  

4. My favorite color is pink (hence the pink highlights and stuff in our blog aesthetic) and it always has been.  I’m not a fan of hot or bright, but pastels.

5. Something really embarrassing about me is that I tend to daze out a lot, especially in crowded places or social situations, but it gets really bad when I start singing.  I’m not one for self-diagnosing but I’m quite certain I’m tone-deaf, even in karaoke I never get a score above a 20 (out of 100), and when I notice I do sing 6/10 times my friend is looking at me weird asking if I was just singing.

[MF] Pink Roses

For a while, the sky was the same colour as the roses. A warm pink. Ahmad blinked. He knew pink was a girly color, but he quite liked this color. The best bubblegum was also pink, he reasoned. So is strawberry ice-cream, which is easily the best flavor. His favourite shirt was pink on the inside. Whenever he had to write or draw something, he would use the pencil which was blue but was striped with pink. The eraser perched like a crown on top of it was also pink. The pencil was almost a stub now, but the eraser remained curiously new and unused. This was because he treated it carefully, and secretly made sure to always use a separate eraser to preserve the fresh pinkishness. Guava juice, was also pink. He looked up at the dusky sky. In all of his 6 years, the color pink had consistently made it into his favourites. He looked at the roses fondly. He had only recently been allowed into the garden, and had fallen in love with it. He would go out in the afternoon sun in shorts and a loose T-shirt just after the gardener left. He would go and lie face up in the corner, arms beneath his head. The air smelled of freshly cut grass. In the shade, the sun didn’t sting and he could look in wonder at the sky. The clouds floating by, his imagination soared as he conjured creatures which would match their shapes. He was grateful bees buzzed, because then he knew he had to go in the opposite direction. But he didn’t mind bees, at least he knew to stay away. They minded their business, and he minded his. “The honey business is getting very tough these days, beta.” ,his father has said to him while looking for sugar to add to his tea, “ You see they’re closing down the nests because they don’t have enough money to pay the bees with and now all of them have to work extra-hard and bring more nectar so they can make more honey so that they can keep their jobs. All the nest cares is about making honey.” “But what about the queen of the nest wouldn’t she let them stay if they-‘’ ‘’Yeah no, she doesn’t care.” said his father curtly while stirring his tea and looking for phone “ All she cares is that she gets lots of nice, golden honey so she can get fat’’ His mother loudly cleared her throat across the table and looked at her husband. He gulped, and in added in small voice ‘’uhhh, and, umm, keeping the pollen count low for weak kids with allergies.’’ Ahmad looked at him confused. Her mother shook her head. However sad bees losing their job was, he didn’t really feel anything towards them. Butterflies were nice, even though he never really got why they were called butterflies. There was really nothing buttery about them. They were the least buttery thing he had ever seen. He thought about the yellow chunk of fat in the fridge, and looked at them fluttering about. He concluded naming was a bit stupid. But of all the insects, flying or grounded, he hated flies. They always disturbed his cloud sessions by sitting on his nose or the tip of his ear or his neck. The sky had started to lose it pinkishness, and he knew his nana abu (grand father) is going to come out for his evening stroll. He avoided him carefully and vigilantly. He was stern and old and scary and angry-looking. He had told his mother this, she had said stern and angry-looking is the same thing, and that it’s rude to call him any of that. So he didn’t. But he stayed wary of him, always in the shadows whenever he was around. Thankfully, he didn’t care. He would come to stay for a few days every month. He looked like professor out of a movie. This was mainly because he was, in fact, a professor. Skinny and short, he would always wear a tweed coat with a scowl and shoes and a belt that was either brown or black, and a bush shirt which was either green or blue. He had messy white hair which had no discernable direction, standing up at odd ends. They were long and were a lot considering how most old people had little hair. He had told his father this, and observed his bald head go red as he fumbled with his phone. His nana abu terrified him. His mother had asked him how long will he continue to avoid his grandfather. He made a thoughtful expression, and her mother looked at him hopefully. “Till the end of time.’’ he concluded. Her face dropped. And then one day he saw his nana come back home during midday. He knew, of course, that he was going to come and had made arrangements to wait by the large windows of the drawing room. He casually looked out and saw the professor take small steps towards the main door. Ami had said his knees were getting weaker by the day. The sun made his face look older and his scowl more prominent. But then stopped, and looked at Ahmad’s pink roses. His eyes narrowed, he bent forward and slowly and picked put a rose. It was one of the smaller, weaker rose of amid the pink healthy ones. Ahmad knew because he made sure that he gave them extra water with his water bottle so that they could be like the other ones. The professor put two fingers under the bud and held it like people hold wine glasses in films. Ahmad was looking curiously when suddenly, to his horror, the professor squeezed the fingers together and turned his palm over and effectively beheading the rose. Ahmad gasped as he threw the limp, dead flower on the driveway meaninglessly. His short walk to the main door had turned into a menacing reign of disaster as he continued to do the same across the flower bed, flinging them with disregard onto the gray lifeless pavement. As he came inside and went upstairs, Ahmad bolted outside. He picked up the mangled pink roses. He looked at them sadly, and decided to give them a funeral. He went inside and got an old shoebox, a green and pink marker. He drew a rose on it, put them inside and decided that he would bury it someday when his mother would buy him they shovel he had been promised. The one in the garden was far too heavy. The next day, to his horror, the professor did the same thing. Ahmad quietly picked them and put them in the shoebox. It was half full already. He decided the professor must be stopped. He told his mother that her father is a killer. Her husband chuckled while using his phone on the other side of the room, but quickly gulped apologetically when she glared at him. Very soon, they were in a heated discussion with each other that had very little to do with flowers or the professor. Ahmed quietly left the room. He looked at the half-full shoe box, and decided action must be taken. The next day, he localized all weak flowers. He wondered if he could tell them to shoot their thorns at the professor when he comes, but reasoned that could seriously injured him and that they could go into his eyes or his nose and then he would kill all of the remaining flowers in an angry rampage. So he decided he will put ribbons around the weaker ones and that way he would know that they are special. He looked carefully and tied ribbons on all of the ones that weren’t full bodied and were weak-looking. He didn’t know many knots, so he just wrapped them around many times. The ribbons were his sisters and, like most things she owned, pink. The professor came around, and without any hesitance, proceeded with the massacre. Later, Ahmed filled his shoebox and saw it nearly full. The ones from before were becoming smaller and crispy and turning a brownish gray. At least that would free up more space, a perverse silver lining. He shook his head. The man scared him, but he decided that he must face the professor. He had run out of ideas. He contemplated putting up a sign which specifically asked to not pluck the roses but that too, he figured, would be ignored like the ribbons. Tomorrow, he decided. And so tomorrow came. Ahmad waited, his stomach churning and his forehead beaded with sweat. He had decided if the professor walked straight across the drive way to the door, he would not approach him. He would not need to. And so the professor came, and made straight for the door. Ahmad sighed in relief, he might actually not have to deal with him today. But suddenly, as if something caught the corner of his eye, the professor turned and deftly approached the flower bed. Ahmad ran from his vantage point by the window. ‘’AAAAAAAARGHHHH!’’ The professor turned at him and blinked, equally surprised and confused. Ahmad’s face was burning, but his mouth went cold and his tongue dry. He noticed, for the first time, the professor had a very intense gaze. He had never experienced it directly because, well, he had never been in front of him directly. “Why do you kill roses every day?’’ he blurted. The professor registered the young boy, tanned and sweaty and awkward. He realized this is the first time he is seeing his grandson properly in a long time, and he strangely reminded him so much of his own daughter. He was, of course, a boy. But the look of defiance was the same. His voice, and his expression, softened. ‘’What do you mean?” he asked politely. Ahmad hesitated for a second, looked side to side uncomfortably. Whatever he thought, he believed with reverence, and found the idea of explaining it bizarre. “ I mean…..you come home and you kill roses every day and you throw them away….’’ The little boy looked towards the roses sadly. The sun shone at an angle, and both of them were separated by long shadows of roses. For every delicate stem and creamy flower, there lay a long expanse of darkness. ‘’I remove them. It’s sort of like pruning, it makes the entire patch look better. And more beautiful ones grow instead of the ones I remove. Gardeners do it too, cutting of odd angled stems and dead wood and the defective roses.” He had been careful not to use the word kill. ‘’It makes everything more beautiful’’ he reiterated, somewhat pathetically. ‘’But why?” Ahmed asked, his eyes narrowing. ‘’They are already beautiful.” He was right, the professor thought. The were luxurious and tall, somehow pale and vibrant at the same time. But he quickly saw a browning, small odd looking rose and quickly said: “The ones I remove aren’t really very beautiful you see. Like this one here,’’ he moved towards it and pointed “ it ruins the view see so, umm, you have to remove it.’’ ‘’Kill it, you mean’’ Ahmad said icily. The professor remained quite. Ahmad felt his courage grow. ‘’It’s going to die and fall off after sometime either way. There’s not really any harm in letting them be. The roses still look beautiful.” The professor was about to start how dead and dying roses become a nidus for disease and more than ugliness they affect the health of the plant but quickly stopped himself. The years had taught him to reconsider everything he said before he said it and sometimes even while he was saying it. He saw that his grandchild was operating on a gentler philosophy of love and life. Pure and innocent and untarnished by the conveniences of life. He has not yet learned the hard lesson which all of us learn about the futility of so much that we do in life, and he is seething with aliveness. If he can love a rose so earnestly, the professor did not want to tarnish his pure concern with pitiful gardening advice. He beamed at his grandson, proud of him. He felt his eyes sting a bit. Age had made him curiously sentimental. “You’re right.’’ he said to Ahmad warmly. ‘’ I’m sorry, I won’t do it again.’’ Ahmad was dumbfounded. Never ever had an adult apologized to him, let alone the sternest man he knew. He asked his nana abu whether he would like to bury the roses with him, who looked quizzically back at him. He showed him the shoe box, and told him how he had tied ribbons too and he intended on giving them a funeral. The old man’s eyes widened and he told him that he didn’t notice the ribbons at all. Ahmad conceded they were a bit hard to notice. Ahmad noticed his eyes were shiny, and his expression was no longer stern. He could not believe he had been afraid of him for so long. He took his nana abu’s hand, and the two went to the bury the roses.

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Umida Niyazova on Forced Labor in Uzbekistan

If the greatest objective is the eradication of all forced labor in Uzbekistan, Tashkent has not however realized it. Although most observers concede development on this entrance, and welcome higher openness on the aspect of Uzbek authorities in talking about the cotton marketplace, the truth remains that some individuals in Uzbekistan are pressured to decide cotton and condition insurance policies assist and abet this exploitation. When the overall theme is development, it turns into all the additional critical to hold track of persistent difficulties and fundamental leads to it’s critical to keep on open up discussions about both.

Umida Niyazova, director of the Uzbek-German Forum for Human Legal rights, explains the conclusions of her organization’s report on the 2018 harvest and identifies the aspects sustaining pressured labor — inspite of sizeable and real advancements — in the pursuing interview with The Diplomat.

A person of the important results of the UGF’s report on the 2018 cotton harvest in Uzbekistan highlights a “real and significant” high-degree commitment to conclusion forced labor on the aspect of the Uzbek federal government. In your encounter, what is most important about the government’s advanced strategy to the cotton issue?

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Initial of all, I would observe that the alter in attitude of the authorities towards its critics is major. In the past, there was significant repression, total disregard for human legal rights, and denial of the existence of the dilemma. Now, members of the government have started to have meetings with associates of civil society abroad and inside of the country on pressured labor in the cotton sector. The Uzbek federal government has existed for numerous decades in isolation, making an attempt to cover its flaws from the worldwide community. I had to depart my region [editor’s note: in 2008] after spending four months in jail because it was very difficult to convey to the truth about the human legal rights predicament in Uzbekistan. Now we have the option to talk the real truth and seem associates of the Uzbek authorities in the eye. This is excellent information.

In addition, at the conclude of last 12 months, we observed some improvements, these as the exemption of college students from larger instructional institutions from picking cotton. We are conversing of at minimum 200,000 college students who, for the to start with time in numerous a long time, did not have their scientific tests disrupted final autumn because of possessing to decide on cotton. The damaging impact of the once-a-year mobilization of learners to the cotton fields on the education of the Uzbek population and the advancement of modern society as a total has never ever been researched.

Very last 12 months, the federal government tried using not to require health-related and training workers in cotton buying, but this was prosperous only at the commencing of the assortment time period, when the amount of voluntary pickers was higher. In the second 50 percent of Oct, nevertheless, we started to history various testimonies of nurses and academics in the course of the country that had been compelled to operate or fork out for replacement pickers. It is ironic that some teachers said that previous 12 months was even worse than the preceding 1, mainly because in the past they had been pressured to choose cotton at the beginning of the time when it is far more worthwhile, when there is a great deal of cotton, when it is heat, which usually means improved situations for work and earnings.

A further of the essential results, on the other hand, underscores the simple fact that the “centrally-imposed quota method remained a crucial driver of pressured labor across the process and in all regions monitored” by UGF. Can you explain what the components of that quota procedure are?

The quota — the total of cotton to be picked — is established in Tashkent and is handed down to the regional and then to the district administrations. Every head of the area or district reports every single night on the total of cotton harvested that day. If the amount of cotton is decrease than the established quota, then he is punished or reprimanded. This can signify dismissal from his positions or decline of wage. For the duration of the harvest, local media described pretty much everyday that some manager or other was fired or experienced dropped his wage for “poor business of the cotton harvest,” which signifies, in essence, not satisfying the quota.

By the conclude of Oct, the number of volunteers decreases sharply due to chilly climate and a reduce in cotton in the fields. Having said that, regional officers are obliged to acquire what is essential by the quota, and that is when they vacation resort to what they have been used to undertaking all these prolonged years: They force people to fork out for pickers or forcibly deliver people to the fields.

Most of the business owners we interviewed said that they experienced by now hired or required to seek the services of pickers as a substitute of getting to go to the fields on their own. There is a rational question: in a country with substantial unemployment why are there not enough voluntary pickers? Since if you gather a lot less than 25 kg of cotton for every day — which is the situation all through the 2nd phase of the harvest — then there is no financial desire to choose cotton. The earning potential is as well lower and usually does not cover the charge of food items and travel. Nonetheless, the federal government requires that the cotton is picked practically to the past boll to satisfy the every day quota, and when there are no volunteers, regional authorities transform to those who are worried of getting rid of their positions. Hence, staff members of organizations were forced to pick cotton below the risk of dismissal.

The UGF report notes that though in “absolute” numbers the bulk of cotton pickers are voluntary, what aspects contribute to continued use of compelled labor? Has the Uzbek authorities sought to deal with these difficulties?

In the course of two and a half months of cotton picking, Uzbekistan needs 2.6 million seasonal pickers. While payment has enhanced, by the center of October a person man or woman can decide on no more than 40-50 kg of cotton, which is $6-7 for a whole day’s function. For seasonal personnel, this revenue is inadequate, given that the market place rate for a single worker is at minimum 2 times as superior. The ratio of voluntary and compulsory collectors relies upon on time, the total of cotton in the fields, living ailments for seasonal staff, and the remoteness of farms. For example, the federal government documented that on November 12, the total quantity of cotton harvested throughout the place was 8,059 tonnes. As of November 12, few if any voluntary pickers remained in the fields, but picking ongoing. Pickers could decide on average 10-20 kilograms for each working day, which means that somewhere around 400,000-800,000 people picked cotton that day, the sizeable vast majority of whom were being pressured.

During a assembly in Washington, the labor minister of Uzbekistan gave assurances that in circumstances of pressured labor, regional leaders have been to blame for allegedly not getting very well organized for the cotton harvest. Since of this lack of preparing, they had been not equipped to attract a ample amount of volunteers. However, in the interviews we carried out, local governing administration officials reported it is unachievable to discover volunteers if cotton buying is only unprofitable for folks.

Whilst the Uzbek federal government has claimed a lot more than 200 cases of officers at a variety of levels remaining punished for pressured labor violations, the aspects are lacking and it is consequently difficult to abide by up on this sort of scenarios. Why is transparency so essential in this regard?

I look at it definitely important to publicize all the details pertaining to the rates and penalties for the use of compelled labor. This is necessary for people to be capable to have confidence in in the legislation that pressured labor is prohibited not only on paper, but also in truth. Most obligatory pickers whom we interviewed explained that they would not complain to their boss about coercion to select cotton because, to start with, they do not want to spoil relations with him, and secondly, simply because they have an understanding of that this is neither the initiative nor the fault of their immediate remarkable.

There are no names on the listing of the 206 people today who were punished for pressured labor [editor’s note: only initials appear on the list] — no names of districts and no particulars of the punishments. Hence, there seriously is no way of verifying whether or not these people had been punished. But even if we presume that 206 professionals or officers of a variety of ranks forced workers to decide on cotton, the logical issue is why, if not since they experienced to carry out orders?

Why are administrators of organizations that are not relevant to agriculture, including schools, kindergartens, hospitals, veterinary clinics, banking companies, heads of mahallas (community councils), and youth unions sending their staff to pick cotton in its place of telling them to appear to their key place of do the job?

I’m rather guaranteed I understand why it was made a decision to keep the names of the punished officers key. It is mainly because all those people charged with employing forced labor would rebel in opposition to this sort of cynicism. These officers despatched their workers to decide on cotton since they acquired an purchase from the heads of the locations. There is no other cause. Even the submissive Uzbeks would resent these kinds of cynicism.

The report begins by highlighting the tragic dying of Sohibjon Mutalibov, serving to illustrate the human value of power labor in Uzbekistan. Can you discuss what occurred to Mutalibov? Why is it significant to share stories like his?

The loss of life of a 24-year-aged worker of the Spanish-Uzbek enterprise Ammofos-Maxam is a tragic image of the program. Sobhijon Mutalibov was despatched to decide cotton from his will. He was on unwell depart when he gained the purchase, but continue to he had to go to the fields. He could not refuse for the reason that he was afraid of dropping his job and was the only functioning human being in the family.

His mother mentioned she preferred to no cost her son from finding cotton, but they have no income to shell out for a substitution picker. If it had not been these kinds of a tragic incident for the loved ones, they would not have complained about the pressured mobilization to decide on cotton.

Our screens received a document, an buy from the head of Uzhimesanoat, according to which 6,000 chemical personnel, just one of whom was Mutalibov, experienced to go decide on cotton. This case obviously demonstrates that forced labor is not a oversight made by neighborhood authorities, it is a state coverage. Otherwise, the head of Uzkimyosanoat would have been punished for sending 6,000 personnel to decide on cotton to the detriment of his have company. Of course, the director will not be punished, considering that by carrying out his get, he fulfilled the will of the federal government to help the region harvest cotton.

A person group of independent Uzbek human legal rights activists issued a statement calling for the close of the intercontinental boycott of Uzbek cotton. A further team of activists have issued their possess statement, arguing that it is far too early to rescind the Cotton Pledge. What is your placement on these two statements and do you see area for these two evident sides to go nearer together?

I think that as extended as the condition-arranged process of forced labor persists, it is untimely to talk about lifting the boycott. We ought to make confident that the government carries out the important structural reforms in order to remove the root leads to of mass pressured labor. The activists who think that it is essential to continue to keep the boycott in spot are effectively acknowledged for regularly monitoring compelled labor. Just about every of them was subjected to a variety of kinds of pressure and persecution by the authorities for exposing forced labor in the previous. On two events, Elena Urlaeva and Malokhat Eshonkulova had been pressured to endure body cavity queries when the police have been wanting for a flash drive from a camera. They were being crushed, detained and called the enemies of the folks.

What do you hope to see in the 2019 harvest? What areas do you consider the Uzbek government will (or should really) emphasis on now? What do you imagine those people checking the Uzbek cotton harvest require to spend the closest focus to?

At the instant, the Uzbek Online is total of appeals from farmers, who say that their fields, sown with veggies, are remaining plowed up and they are being forced to plant cotton. Farmers still have to plant cotton, even if it is not worthwhile for them. Regulate around the cotton fields stays with local authorities. The condition is not but prepared to give farmers the flexibility to select what to plant on the ground. This does not give hope for advancements, mainly because farmers who plant cotton by purchase of the authorities, when it is not successful, do not have the funds to give respectable living situations for pickers, meals, and decent fork out for the cotton pickers. And it is dependent on these components no matter whether volunteers will appear to their fields.

What can be accomplished this 12 months? I assume that if wages for pickers will be raised to up to 10 cents for each kg of cotton from the pretty commencing of the period (and not at the conclude, as was the circumstance very last 12 months), this could entice a lot more voluntary pickers. Partial mechanization in sparsely populated areas could also aid remedy the difficulty of forced labor, having said that, it is not yet crystal clear how several cotton harvesting devices there are readily available in the region.

The government really should waive the requirement to develop cotton if it is not financially rewarding for farmers. It is basically not rational. I would extremely a lot like to write a beneficial report this yr, the main summary of which would be that point out-arranged forced labor no for a longer time exists in Uzbekistan’s cotton fields.

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Today the field of social and best shapewear  behavioral sciences has lost its true meaning under institutional pressure of tenure and promotion clocks. One can no longer feel the palpable energy or the desire to make a difference and the fearlessness about being innovative. Passion is highly lacking in these areas of education. There are the publish or perish dictates and funding agencies that reward hard science practitioners and thus many academics soon become disenchanted.

 The researchers are content is letting themselves do the work they want to do later, and later never arrives so it is very convenient. There are a plethora of traditional methods that are grounded in scientific methodology that suits some and there is no place for art based Maternity Shapewear education. But on the other hand, there are traditional qualitative research methods that create a working space for the others. And there are other methods including the art based education with research conventions that make what once started as passion feel more like a job. The art education researchers are not just discovering new told for they are carving them according to the needs and requirements of the students.Thus, based on the tools they sculpt a space is opened within the education community where passion and rigor can be boldly expressed out in the open. Some researchers have come close to forming methods of art based education as a way of better addressing research question. While there are other art based education methods that openly merge the scholar aspects with the artist self. Thus holistic and integrated perspectives formed as a result of the merging of arts based project with various research based practices. The turn to creative arts in the field of education forms influence of many methodologies.Art washer dryer clearance instructed education and science bear intrinsic similarities in their attempts to highlight the aspect of human condition. Based on exploration, revelation and representation, art based projects and science work towards advancing human understanding. Although the semantics of art related projects has historically separated common thinking about it from scientific enquiry? There is serious investigation regarding the profound relationship between art related instruction and science. There are many books written on cross disciplinary aspects of art related instruction.In recent decades art instructed practices area set off methodological tools that reused qualitative researchers across the various disciplines during all phases of the process of education. The various art based methods of education draw on literary writing, music, performance, dance, visual art, film and other mediums. Some of the representational forms of art based education include poems, novels, dances, documentaries and songs.It is a well known fact that art has a unique power and it has been appliances houston inspiring human beings for centuries now. Art lets the creative eye see a wide variety of possibilities in new ways. It is also the connection between our shared humanity and the fundamental human desire to create and invent. Thus art based education is for those who value art for the sake of art.Art based education is also meant for those who believe that education must be rejuvenating for our society and our lives. Art based education is mainly for the artists who seek art in everything, including that which is relevant and authentically connected to the living experiences of the real world. Thus the art based education is based on the experiences of the makers and its viewers.

It is meant for the practitioners, who value the link between relationships and spaces beyond the classroom and the studio. In literal terms, art based education is meant for those who believe in the power of the arts to touch imagination and evoke possibility and alter lifestyle. According to experts, it is the nature of art that lets one creates opportunities; where one can envision something outside the realm of what really exists for opportunities.It also provides the scope for the artists to car dealerships in houston envision something, outside the limits of what really exists for oneself and one's community and the entire world where anything is possible. Artists and art practitioners attest that art based education is within the free space for creative expression and that people can explore new identities and possibilities for themselves.Thus, based on this type of education it is possible to explore new possibilities and identities for themselves and their communities, moving beyond perceptions of limiting boundaries and circumstances. Today, art based education is being applied in order to promote healthy communities and in order to augment prevention and intervention efforts, in the independent as well as the public sector.In addition art based education changes that emerged as a trend is also used in order to build community and foster change that has emerged as a major trend in the recent decades. Art education programmes are aimed at the youth as art tries to transform, enrich luxury cars houston and save lives. In order to achieve the objectives, the programs address some of the society's greatest challenges and strive to transform the youth. Therefore education that is based on art is also being used to address issues ranging from cultural wars to the environment.In the world of learning, there is a need to measure or assess the programs and the resources. What is being utilized here are the education metrics, which aims to give the instructors as well as the head of the organization to measure the quality, efficiency and the productivity of the learning process in the school.To measure the education performance, you can rely on an indicator. However, you will only be given a limited view about the efficiency of the programs of the institution. This is why you should have a set of indicators that will make up the education metrics. Depending upon the level of organization that the metrics will be Houston SEO Expert applied to, you will be able to obtain the right indicators. This means that the tertiary schools have different indicators from the secondary schools. Most indicators may even be applied to the business sense of the institutions.In order for you to provide your institution with the right educational indicators, you should know about the five important things that are needed for education data. The first one is data liquidity, which is by far the most challenging when it comes to learning information. Many people disregard this though especially the fact that there is a need for the individual data to move along with the person that is being monitored. In this case, there is no need for a particular school to bind themselves with the information system. Instead, the flow of data should be with the individual since this is the fundamental concept.Second is the common definitions in which the data gatherers should know about the terms that are being utilized in the measurement process of the educational system. The ability to understand the words or phrases SEO Company Toronto will enable everyone to fully gauge the performance of the institution as well as with the learning capacity of the students. The third one is the relevance. The data that will be collected should be relevant to the school as well as the time and the learners. This will actually help the organization to know if the teachers are capable in providing knowledge and proper information to the students. Aside from that, you will be able to have a relevant outcome and education metrics that will make your business a part of the competition.Fourth is timeliness, which is also useful in order to keep track of the students that are behind their growth. This is because it will be easy to report data that is timely regarding all the aspects that affect the growth of the institution including the teachers, students, districts and the school itself. The last one is accuracy, which is of course important in order for you to get the what career is right for me underlying data. You will be able to find the clearest path when it comes to the information that you need for the collection of the performance of learning. With these five things in mind, you will be able to have your own set of education metrics that will really work for you and your organization.

Who else is tired - dog tired - of fending off request after request from your children for the newest, hottest, blood-splattering and bone-breaking game? Is anyone else exhausted from explaining why it's okay for a friend's parents to give the thumbs-up to "Gorefest 2 - the Splattering," but it isn't appropriate for our house? Why we choose educational video games for kids, the same reason we don't watch R-rated horror films. Or, to wit: why I'm unfair, why I'm a tyrannical goon, why I'm dead set on business analyst certification destroying his popularity.

Why life is unfair.

There's always second-guessing. Is it unreasonable to deny him a game that, in fact, I'd somewhat like to play? I mean, I'm a gamer as well. I was his age not too horribly long ago, growing up in the infancy of console video games. I can say with little doubt that were the roles switched, were he my old man and I his frustrated son, I'd be begging, cajoling, and manipulating my head off to get the same games he wants. It strikes me as very unfair, honestly, that his friends are allowed to play the games that we don't allow in our home. It's unfortunate that parents don't have some kind of early childhood development secret pact in place to reach a consensus, a common agreement, on what's okay and what gets 86ed.

Initially, his mom and I agreed to limit his gaming time to educational games for kids. And, at first, he was happy with whatever we gave him. Arthur was a common sight on the computer, telling a story, increasing vocabulary, encouraging reading. Mickey showed up now and again as well, jumping on numbers, helping reinforce the basic mathematics he'd been learning. He enjoyed the educational video games for kids because he saw himself as a kid. He was happy being a kid; in fact, we all were happy with his situation. Juice boxes for everyone!

Then, we stretched our rules a bit as he stretched out. He talked me into a baseball video game. He didn't have to work too hard to convince me; as both a huge Mets fan and a at one point shameless video game addict, the idea of playing virtual baseball with my son technical schools near me was an easy concept to buy into. I turned around and sold the idea to mom. That wasn't as easy. Baseball, as fun as it might be, was definitely not an educational video game for kids. I weakly mentioned something about the game teaching mathematics - division and averages and such - but we both saw the weak argument for what it was.

She frowned, shook her head, and turned back to her book.

Slippery slope, she said.

I took that to mean "okay."

She put conditions on it, however. Time limits, an imaginary pie chart showing the allowable time with the baseball as compared to his educational video games for kids. This was the beginning, unfortunately, of my son no longer accepting his role as a "kid" any longer. I don't mean to say that buying him a baseball game caused the change; rather, this was about the time that I noticed him ditching some of the trappings of his kid-dom - the blankey went in the closet, for instance.And though I have some nice memories of beating the pants off his Yankees with my Mets, this was also about the time that he began preferring to play against the computer, rather than his old man. Both in his educational games for kids and A+ certification training otherwise.It wasn't long before he started testing us, asking for games he knew he wouldn't get. Spiriting in a copy of a game he'd been told he wasn't allowed to play, and then throwing a tantrum when he was inevitably caught. He's at the regrettable age where, no matter how entertaining or fun the game is, if it's an educational game for kids, it's rejected out of hand. Where before we could bring home anything from the game store, now we've given up buying any educational games for kids as they end up dusty and forgotten in a pile near the television.We've come to realize we can't control what he does at his friends' houses. We've politely asked other parents, whenever it felt appropriate, to keep the violent games from the consoles when our son visits. Unfortunately, there've been times when he's been ostracized by his friends for our requests; his friends sometimes blamed him for his parents' rules.I'm gladdened by the appearance of more and more Wii and DS titles that incorporate more fun and innovation into their educational video games for kids. It's a nice thing to see plus size shapewear that some of these recently released learning games aren't getting the same stigma that learning games of recent history suffered. It's good that the developers are putting the time and money into making them fun enough to forget that they're learning while they're playing. Cosmos Chaos, "Brain" games, and "Think" games are changing the lay of the land.For now, though, we're stuck in the the trap that makes good parenting so difficult. Violence in video games isn't a problem I'd like to see regulated by government - the ESRB works fine for me. Violence isn't even really a "problem" to most people. It just means that parents continue to hope for a larger stream of fun educational used appliances houston video games for kids, while we watch the river of violent games continue to rage by.