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lightns881 · 3 years

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DTeam Tumblr Demographics Survey Results (Part 1):

The Gifted Child Syndrome is Real with this One...

*Rubs hands together in preparation for some juicy data and in-depth analysis of the typical member of the DTeam Tumblr community*

Ooooooooh boy! Here we go!

I want to start of by thanking you guys for over 400 responses to the demographics survey! Y’all have no idea how much I appreciate it! We have so much to cover, so I’m going to divide up different sections of the survey into several posts to make it more digestable and do justice to each topic explored in the form! We’re going to start of with, you guessed it, personality types!

Strap yourself in because we’re about to thoroughly dissect your sub-conscious innerworkings and find out how the typical DTeam Tumblr Fan thinks! (And judging by the majority personality types, you guys will probably enjoy it)

The Delicious Data

From the 449 responses we received, this is a pie chart displaying the personality types of all respondents.

Image Description: INFP (40.5%), INTP (15.1%), INFJ (8.9%), INTJ (8.9%), ISFP (6.9%), ENFP (4.2%), ISTP (4.0%), ENTP (3.8%), ESFP (1.6%), ISFJ (1.6%), ENTJ (1.3%), ENFJ (1.3%), ISTJ (1.1%), ESTP (0.4%), ESFJ (0.2%), ESTJ (0%)

In comparison, this is a pie chart displaying the personality type percentages of the population as a whole according to the MBTI website.

Image Description: ISTP (14%), ESFJ (12%), ISTJ (12%), ISFP (9%), ESTJ (9%), ESFP (8%) ENFP (8%), ISTP (5%), INFP (4%), ESTP (4%), INTP (3%), ENTP (3%), ENFJ (2%), INTJ (2%), ENTJ (2%), INFJ (1%)

I don’t know about you guys, but I’m sensing a tiny difference here... Oh, right!

INxx’s on the Loose!

It’s funny. When I first found one of the 18+ DTeam fan servers through Tumblr, I asked everyone what their personality type was. I was pleasantly surprised when a lot of them told me they were INFPs like me!

It actually reminded me of MatPat’s (Game Theory) survey for one of his Life Is Strange theories that found the majority personality there was also INFP...

Funny enough, can you guess what the second leading personality on that survey was? The third? The fourth?

You probably guessed it right. MatPat found that out of the fans who responded, the leading majority was INFP while INTPs came in second, INFJs came in third, and INTJs came in fourth. The exact order for the personality types in DTeam Tumblr.

But why is it that some of the rarer personalities of the world are dominating DTeam Tumblr or Game Theory’s fanbase? What is it about these communities that attract the rare introverted Intuitive Perceivers (INxP) and Intuitive Judgers (INxJ) of the world like magnets?

The Gifted Kid Syndrome

To answer this question, first we have to examine our leading personalities. As we can see from the data, INFPs and INTPs make up 55.6% and INFJs and INTJs make up 17.8% of the total respondents. That’s nearly 3/4′s of the DTeam Tumblr population made up of INxx types!

Now, here’s me calling y’all out.

A lot of you probably relate to the quiet kid sitting at the back of the classroom who’s put into some type of TAG, gifted program, or some authority figure has probably called you smart and/or “gifted” at some point in your life. Academics probably came easy to you at one point, maybe they still do.

You’ve probably felt your chest swell up at the shower of compliments about your intelligence and at another... you’ve probably felt like people put you in a pedestal and overrate you so you’re stuck with this inherent fear of failure, and it causes you to completely shut down when the things that came easy to you at one point no longer do so.

It’s gifted kid syndrome hitting you like a brick to the face. And if it hasn’t yet, oh you’re in for a surprise, honey.

And I’m sure many of you have come across funny, relatable posts like this:

And you want to know why most of you relate?

Image Description: INTP, INTJ, INFP, anf INFJ’s rate the highest in a giftedness per MBTI Type chart

No. You’re not hallucinating. It’s not even a joke at this point. It feels true because it probably is true.

(Granted, the study that captured similar results to this graph is long lost to the internet, but the best source I found with it was a reddit post I will be citing in the reblog.)

Now, my next point is where we find a split.

INFPs and INTPs and their Need to Question Everything (even if it’s about one sentence [insert creator here] said that one time during a 4-hour long stream)

The strongest connection I found between the two leading personalities of DTeam Tumblr is they share Extraverted Intuiting (Ne) as their auxiliary cognitive function.

I’ll use a quote that explains Ne better than I could ever explain it in my own words:

“Extraverted intuition or Ne is very much focused on patterns and making connections from information they gather... Ne dominant users enjoy being able to explore things in a much more open manner, not wanting to feel closed off to the possibilities around them... They are also highly imaginative people, who enjoy being able to come up with unique hobbies and experiences... They are not afraid of imagining things which seem almost impossible to others... [For INFPs,] Ne is what creates this detailed and incredible thoughts process which keeps them busy for long periods of time.”

And another:

“Auxiliary Ne manifests in people constantly questioning the world around them, but unlike ENxPs, they can be more pick and choose about this. But generally, they don’t take people, things and events at face value.“

Now, think about the community you’re in right now. Think about the post you’re reading at the moment.

DTeam Tumblr is full of over-analysis posts, whether about Dream and George’s secret love for each other or about the inherent problems with Dream’s shipbait and gay jokes or theories about what’s going to happen next in the dream SMP lore and the dramatic betrayals and creator’s descend into madness and more theories about sexuality and charts depicting creator’s personalities and what they’d be likely to do in different scenarios and... ooof, I’m out of breath here. You get my point.

DTeam Tumblr is literally a group of ex-gifted or gifted introverted people who love to read or write analysis, theory, and discussion posts about sweaty Minecraft Youtubers because they’re probably too overwhelmed by real life and find joy in obsessing over “dumb” things.

That’s it. That’s literally the post. I might as well end there.

But I won’t.

Because obsessions is exactly what I want to focus on next.

The Inherent Nature of the INFP and their “Micro-Obsessions”

This is me having a one-to-one conversation with all my INFPs reading this.

Do you sometimes just set your mind on a goal--like, let’s say, writing a book--and you spend so much time obsessing over it to the point where you burn out and suddenly it never sees the light of day because you move onto your next goal or obsession because now you’re getting ready to launch your freelance website so you can start a business on [insert new hobby here]?

Or do you just suddenly find a fandom or a show or a channel you really enjoy and you spend the next few months doing nothing but engaging with it and reading fanfiction and drawing fan art or making dumb analysis posts on your main Tumblr account where suddenly you get an influx of followers from that community and now people are expecting you to just post about MCYT!?

Oh, sorry, I got a little carried away at the end there...

Anyhow, my point is, do you ever develop an obsession over something all the sudden only for it to just disappear when you find something new or just fall into the deep crevices of your mind only for it to maybe reemerge a few years later after you get a deep sense of nostalgia remembering it?

I call them micro-obsessions. And I recently found out, I’m not the only one who does this!

Here’s another quote for you:

“According to Carl Jung’s theory of cognitive functions, when an INFP makes a decision, Ne comes in second to another process known as Introverted Feeling (Fi). Fi does not use logic to make a decision. It uses how we feel about the decision according to our values. In other words, it asks, “Which choice feels right for me?”

Ne, on the other hand, craves new ideas and experiences to explore, which causes INFPs to always be on the lookout for something novel.

Unfortunately, INFPs can get stuck in a loop, going back and forth between their Ne and Fi. They search to understand their values by constantly trying new things. They ask themselves, “Does this feel right?” then throw it over their shoulder as they move on to something else.”

So, you’re probably asking right about now, Light, how the heck does any of this have anything to do with the Dream Team and MCYT!?

Well, my friend, it has EVERYTHING to do with the Dream Team and MCYT and DTeam Tumblr as a whole.

Because INxx’s are predisposed to end up in places like this--fandoms on Tumblr, channels that speculate whether Mario is evil, watching dramatic Minecraft smp wars and elections as opposed to looking at the news that depicts Murphy’s Law as 2020′s new favorite epigram.

The introvert in them causes them to prefer socializing in small communities online where they’re not forced to engage in conversations if they don’t want to or put into uncomfortable situations where they have to talk to that one friend of their friend who wants to make meaningless small chat.

Their Intuition causes them to wonder into places like Tumblr where they can engage in deep discussions about their newest obsessions, and they won’t be judged for writing a 500+ word post about why Dream’s shipbait tactics are a genius algorithm strat or simping over sweaty Minecraft boys.

DTeam Tumblr is a safe haven for INFPs and INTPs who might be placed in the “other” category or marked as weird for being interested in “childish” entertainment or being different from the general population overall, whether that’d be sexuality, point of view, age, gender, etc. A place where you can fully be yourself and not have to worry about disappointing people.

INFPs are predisposed for drowning themselves in their micro-obsessions to avoid all of the madness in the world--even if that means giggling like a little girl while reading memes about your favorite Minecraft YouTube creators.

That is a deep-dive into the mind of a typical DTeam Tumblr user. What do you think? Is it accurate at all? Is it completely off? Let me know in the comments!

And with that, I digress. I’m not sure whether I’ll be covering general demographics next week or diving into the topic of ships (could be a mix of both), but I will be posting about it eventually, so make sure to hit the follow if you got to the end of this post and enjoyed it or learned something new from it!

Friendly reminder that this survey and post is in no way supposed to be taken 100% seriously. These are just the ramblings of a math major INFP with too much time on her hands and way too big of an obsession for MCYT. My asks are always open for literally anything, whether if you want to ask me about this or any DNF related subject, my own opinions, or just criticize the whole of this post and tell me it’s complete trash! I’ll answer as long as it’s appropriate!

And, again, thank you everyone who filled out the survey. Without y’all, this post wouldn’t be possible. I really enjoyed writing it! Adios!

#dteam #dteamblr #dttblr #mcyt #dreamwastaken #georgenotfound #sapnap #dreamnotfound #dnf #dream team #dream smp #dteamblr demographics survey #analysis

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holycatsandrabbits · 3 years

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Love’s Endless Light: A Good Omens serial romance

READ FROM THE BEGINNING

Chapter 4: Watch By Our Side

CW: childbirth

651 AD, East Anglia

Crowley was drinking wine and watching Aziraphale drink wine, and he wasn’t sure which was more fun. Aziraphale wasn’t quite tipsy yet, but his cheeks were flushed a pretty pink and his blue eyes shone. It was an ironic beauty, an angel indulging in human pleasures.

Crowley was about to make a rather devastating rebuttal to Aziraphale’s opinions on the current Pope when Aziraphale suddenly stopped chattering and looked up. Crowley knew that look. He scanned the restaurant nervously in case the Heavenly message that Aziraphale was receiving said something like Be there in five, save us a table. Not that the other angels ever seemed to want to spend much time with Aziraphale, but—

“It’s not from Upstairs,” Aziraphale said, sounding curious. “It’s a human. Praying to me.”

“What, by name?” Crowley grinned, delighted. “Aziraphale. Do you have a cult?”

The angel immediately flushed a much brighter red. “What? Certainly not.”

“You sure? No devotees on their knees, lighting candles, venerating that greatest of angels, Guard of the Eastern Gate of—”

“Stop that. I do not have a cult. Just someone who needs help.” Aziraphale clunked his glass down on the table. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to see what’s going on.”

Crowley clunked his glass down right next to Aziraphale’s. “I won’t excuse you. I’m coming too.”

Aziraphale glowered at him. “You are not. People who pray to angels do not wish to be visited by demons.”

“I know,” Crowley said with a smirk. “That’s what makes it so much fun. Anyhow, if it turns out you do have a cult, I can help scare them off for you. Your defeat at the hands of the Serpent of Eden would certainly dampen any overzealous admiration.”

“Oh, good Lord,” Aziraphale breathed. “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”

It was immediately clear, though, that there was no cult. Aziraphale’s miracle landed them in a dirty alleyway beside a solitary woman, groaning with pain. Aziraphale came to his knees beside her in the dust. Despite not appearing as an angel in glory, Aziraphale seemed to glow anyway, dressed all in white against the muck of the alley.

“Crowley, she’s in labor,” Aziraphale said. “Twins.”

“Where do you want to go?” Crowley asked.

“Anywhere clean.”

Crowley snapped his fingers this time and the three of them appeared in Crowley’s small, tidy room in the nearby village. Crowley knew where Aziraphale was staying in London— how he instinctively knew Aziraphale’s whereabouts was a bit of a mystery to Crowley, one he didn’t want to investigate very far (and Satan forbid he think on the question of why)— but heavenly guards were not meant to sleep, and Crowley guessed that Aziraphale would not have a bed.

Aziraphale held the woman easily in his arms, as if a fully pregnant human weighed not more than a cup of wine. Crowley remembered Aziraphale carrying him that time in Gaul, with the consecrated hill, and a not-entirely-unpleasant shiver went up his spine.

“Don’t worry, my dear,” Aziraphale said as he laid the woman down on Crowley’s bed. “You’re all going to be just fine.”

The woman grasped Aziraphale’s wrist. “Are you— are you really an angel?”

“You should turn your lights on,” Crowley advised.

Aziraphale looked up, and Crowley saw a deep sadness in his eyes, one that went all the way back to a street fight in Mesoamerica and a child frightened of an angel in glory.

“Just a little,” Crowley said. “Just your overhead maybe.”

Aziraphale still hesitated. Crowley found himself giving the angel a reassuring smile, and for some reason Aziraphale seemed to trust it. He closed his eyes a moment, and a glow grew around his head, bright and full as any angel’s halo, and yet different from any Crowley had ever seen: not white but gold, not cold but warm. Crowley had the unpleasantly undemonic thought that Aziraphale was even more beautiful with his halo shining than he had been when flushed with wine.

“Lowest setting,” Aziraphale said nervously. “What do you think?”

“Didn’t know it had a low setting.”

“Well, it does now.”

The woman in the bed seemed to calm as she gazed on the angelic glow. “I’m Aziraphale,” the angel said, taking her hand. “And I believe you are the first human ever to pray directly to me.”

The woman grimaced as a contraction gripped her. “I saw you in a book,” she gasped, when she could. “It had a picture of you in the Garden of Eden. Somebody told me your name and I never forgot it.”

Aziraphale was smiling now. “Oh, how lovely.”

Crowley smirked. “Was I in it?”

Aziraphale gave Crowley an amused glance. “Don’t worry, I’m sure it captured your best side, dear.”

“I tried—” The woman looked apologetic. “I prayed to God, but I don’t think He listened. I don’t blame Him. These children are by a man married to someone else. I just—” She looked down at their joined hands. “I’m sorry, but I thought that if you were a minor angel, then maybe you wouldn’t be so busy. That maybe you could spare a few moments for a fallen woman.”

Aziraphale’s eyes looked wet, but he gave no other sign of distress. “Don’t be afraid,” he said quietly. “You aren’t alone.”

Crowley had never seen a birth before. Aziraphale must have, because he didn’t seem surprised by all the noise and mess. Crowley planned to assist by staying out of the way, but Aziraphale firmly thwarted that by handing Crowley an infant. Crowley’s surprise must have been obvious because Aziraphale took the time to remind him that there was a second infant still coming.

The baby Crowley was holding was tiny and messy and very mad, which Crowley supposed made sense. After all, he had been somewhere warm and protected with his mother, and now he was somewhere cold and unfamiliar with a stranger. The baby’s hands were curled into little fists and he yelled much more loudly than Crowley would have guessed he could. Crowley summoned a blanket to wrap him securely and held him against his chest. After a moment, Crowley thought to give himself a heart beat, although he normally didn’t bother with one in his corporation. The baby seemed to respond to feeling it, which was to say that he yelled slightly less loudly.

After the second baby was delivered, the woman slumped back against the bed, exhausted. Aziraphale cleaned everything with a gentle miracle and looked over both infants carefully.

“Are they all right?” the mother asked anxiously.

Aziraphale smiled at her. “Perfectly.”

The woman started to cry, which she had not done during the birth. Aziraphale handed Crowley both infants without hesitation, as if he thought Crowley might somehow understand how to hold two infants at once, which he absolutely did not, but fortunately, he figured it out. Aziraphale put his arms around the mother and held her close.

“I was sure God would punish me,” the woman sobbed. “For being with a married man. No one I knew would help me, and I thought He was going to take my children.”

“God works in mysterious ways, and by an ineffable plan,” Aziraphale said, in such a pained voice that it cut through even the babies’ wails. “Don’t worry about mistakes that you think you’ve made. Just focus on your work, and those you love. That’s— that’s what I try to do, anyway.”

Aziraphale pressed a kiss to the top of the woman’s head and Crowley felt an angelic blessing echo through the room, which made his skin itch just when he didn't have hands free to scratch.

“There’s no need to fear,” Aziraphale said to the woman. “I’ll keep watch over you.”

READ FROM THE BEGINNING

Read on Ao3

Updates Fridays on Ao3 and Tumblr.

Want to create fic, art, or other works based on this series? Please do! Just dm or tag me.

My previous Good Omens serial: Mr. Fell’s Bookshop

My Carrd

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Image text: Love’s Endless Light by Dannye Chase (HolyCatsAndRabbits) Chapter 4

As Aziraphale and Crowley slowly fall in love over the millennia, Crowley discovers that Aziraphale is keeping a very dangerous secret.

#Dannye writes #good omens #good omens fanfic #Love's Endless Light

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bellatrixobsessed1 · 4 years

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The Art Of Remembrance (Part 27)

She gives the other teams only until she can scope out the building for a second entrance to arrive. For now stealth and a smaller team will be better anyhow. She makes a second and third trek around the compound.

“Azula, I don’t think that there’s a secret or even a second entrance.” Zuko says. She resentfully must admit that she thinks he might be right. Though she does not say as much out loud, instead she mutters, “there has to be another way in.”

“Maybe we should wait for the other team and storm the place?” Sokka suggests.

Azula shakes her head. “If they know we’re here, they might destroy their notes.” Her face pales at the idea.

“So, what? We just break in and…” Zuko starts.

“I can take as many of them down as I have to.” She replies with a healthy dash of confidence. “Everyone tells me that I’m a prodigy.” She lets a small burst of fire wave in her palm. “And I like to think that you’ve got some skill, you are the Fire Lord afterall.”

“And I have a boomerang that I’m not afraid to use.” Sokka declares with the spunk she had hoped to induce in Zuko.

She puts a hand on his shoulder, “come on, Zuko.”

He gives an audible sigh before caving in. “Keep an eye out for the other teams.” He instructs the Imperial Firebenders.

The first sign that something is startlingly off comes when the door simply slides open with a grimace-inducingly loud groan. She slinks into the dark of the building building--her second sign that something is wrong. The last time she was here the place was decently lit by torch light. Even without the speculation that something isn’t right, Azula finds herself nearly overcome with dread. Just seeing these dismal halls again, feeling the heavy atmosphere of distress and hostility. She swallows hard and summons another blue flame.

“It’s abandoned.” She mumbles, her stomach sinking. This should relive her; they can’t re-capture her if they aren’t around to do so.

“Maybe they’re hiding?” Sokka asks.

Azula shakes her head. “There’s no benefit to hiding. Not when they have research to protect. Unless…” she trails off. She shines her flame over the walls, they are barren and seemingly endless.

“Unless what?” Sokka asks.

She slides her hands over the walls looking for something, anything out of place. A loose panel in the wall perhaps or a broken tile in the floor. “Why would they just leave their notes and instruments in plain sight?” She asks. “There has to be something else, some secret annex or a hidden entrance…”

“I thought that we said there weren’t any of those.” Zuko points out.

“On the outside, yes. But inside…” she pauses. “There might be something in here, a hidden entrance to a deeper part of the facility. Tell the Imperial Firebenders to get in here and help us look.

.oOo.

Azula lingers rather close to him. She is doing surprisingly well for being within the walls that constantly present themselves in her nightmares. He wonders if she is more anxious than she is letting on; with Zuko and the guards present he can’t imagine her expressing her stresses quite as openly. Her sheer closeness is confirmation enough. She doesn’t say it but she heavily implies that she doesn’t want him to stray too far from her. And when he tests the waters and does, she drifts closer to Zuko.

He is beginning to think that she is correct in her assumption that the place has been vacated. They haven’t been particularly quiet and not one personal has come to check out the ruckus.

“Sokka!”

He jolts at the abruptness of her call. It takes him a moment to register that there is no distress in her voice.

“I found something, give me a hand.”

He turns the corner to see the princess struggling to push aside a rather large badgermole statue. They line the entirety of this hall, “what’s so special about that one?”

“Just…” she huffs as she pushes all of her weight against the statue. “Help me move it.”

He watches her struggle for a moment longer, faintly amused by the dainty, petite princess trying to heave something at least twice her weight and height. “If I can’t move it, we might have to wait for Toph or Aang.” He notes as he adds his strength to her fight. It doesn’t give even an inch.

Azula gives another pant before wandering off, presumably to fetch more man power. It takes the entirety of their party to move the badgermole aside. It scrapes thunderously across the floor, if anyone remained in the compound they surely would have come to check things out.

With the statue out of the way, they can now see a yawning opening in the floor.

“So...who wants to go down first?” Sokka asks.

He doesn’t need to see it to know that Azula is rolling her eyes again. She lets the flame blaze brighter in her grasp and begins her descent.

.oOo.

The hidden staircase opens into another long and narrow hallway. Azula isn’t particularly fearful of tight spaces but something about the low ceiling and overall orientation of the hallway, has her feeling disoriented and uncomfortable. She, for once, is grateful that she lacks height. Even having such a slight and small build, she has to dip her head to keep it from colliding with the ceiling. Zuko and Sokka have to crouch and the tallest of the Imperial Firebenders have to crawl.

There are several rooms, shining her fire into them, she finds them mostly vacant save for a desk and a chair or some abandoned cleaning supplies. She is grateful that they hadn’t locked her in a room down here, she could only imagine the hellish images her mind could conjure from time in one of them.

She doesn’t have to imagine for much longer. The room at the very back of the hallway is not as empty as the others. It has only one perk; that she can rise to her full height in here. But that is as far as the comforts go. Everything else has her deciding that she would rather be out there again. Not that she will leave so soon, not when there are shelves to be searched.

Azula doesn’t quite get that far though. Her attention is captured by the metal table at the center of the room. Its leather straps are unbound and waiting for something to hug. Under the eerie blue light of her flame, it gleams menacingly, inviting her back into its clutches. Next to the table are various tools; she spies scalpels of various sizes, needles, and a set of carving chisels. Their wooden handles are stained with blood, despite efforts to clean them. They couldn’t get the blood out of the straps either.

Her belly flutters, she wonders how much of that blood is her own. How much of it had pooled on the floor of this room. She notices that there is, in fact, a rather liberal amount of it coagulated on the floor alongside clumps of vine and residue of vine sap.

She takes a reflexive step back. If she stares for too long, she can almost picture her prone body strapped onto the cold metal, limp and abused. Her mouth runs dry and she pries her eyes away from the scene.

Just as reflexively, she clutches Zuko’s hand. Sokka is on the other side of the room, opening and shutting drawer after drawer. She notices that she is shaking slightly. Undeniably, Zuko knows it too.

Though she no longer stares at the operating table, visions bombard her mind like pounding fists. They have the effect of fists. She had been awake, she knows it now. Fully aware when the scalpels carefully sliced her arms. Fully aware when those they dug those carving chisels, into her chi points and harvested them. Completely cognizant when they opened her belly and prodded her fire chakra.

She feels trapped. Visions of blood weeping from her arms and bubbling from her stomach and dripping down her sides and hips flash in her mind. The feeling of it seeping under her and wetting her back. Visions of vines wrapped like slimy crowns around her head. They hold her mouth open and force the vines in.

Azula thinks that these all might have been separate instances but they blend together in her mind.

She doesn’t know when she had done it, but she is squatting with her head gripped in her hands. Sokka hugs her tightly while Zuko rubs small circles on her back. “You’re alright.” Sokka murmurs, “you’re alright.”

She takes a deep breath and pushes herself to her feet. “Yes, I am.” She replies. “I just...needed a moment.”

“Azula you were shaking…” Zuko starts. She cuts him a glare. “Azula.”

Sokka nudges him, “not in front of them.” He says quietly and nods towards the Imperial Firebenders.

“What happened back there?” Zuko asks when they make it back to the upper floor.

“I just... the memories of that room came back. A few of them anyways, there were too many at once.” She pauses. “Did you find anything?”

“No.” Sokka replies. “The drawers were all empty.”

“We’ll do a final sweep of this floor and then we’ll call it a failed mission and head back.” Azula replies.

Zuko and Sokka trade glances. “Azula, we can’t go back out there. Not until morning.” Zuko speaks.

She grits her teeth and holds her head high, “very well. I’ll see if I can find an adequate place to sleep while I do my second sweep.”

Sokka tags along as she makes her way down the hall. It is just as stressful to navigate as it had been on the day of her escape. They wander, occasionally finding that they have gone in a large circle.

Along the way, she pushes doors open looking for stray papers or any sort of bedding. She finds neither. She finds nothing at all of use or comfort and everything that puts her on edge. And then she comes upon something that runs her blood and soul colder than the world beyond the compound. She heaves another door open and enters a terrifyingly familiar room. A room where she had previously curled herself into a feeble ball time and time again. This room has not been cleansed; her blood still blemishes the white floor tiling.

The scars that plague her body tingle and twitch as though they have just been newly stitched. The room seems to tilt and spin, her head is dizzy and her stomach threatens to empty itself. Well out of earshot, she allows herself a small choking noise, something between a gasp and a cry. She drops to her knees as the memories come back on full; all of the tortured nights she’d spent naked and shivering on this very floor. The helplessness and that dreadful feeling that she is alive just to suffer and be picked apart.

“Come on, let's go somewhere else.” Sokka offers, his voice is distant in her mind. And it fades further until she is very much alone again. Alone and waiting for them to burst in and carry her off to the operating room. The scar on her tummy pulses violently.

She bunches herself up and wraps her arms protectively around her middle, as though her fire chakra hasn’t already been assaulted. She feels hands lifting her off the ground and she shouts. She brings the fire to her captor’s chest.

He gives a cry of his own and she seizes the opportunity to give him a hard shove and bolt. Her breathing is erratic as she frantically tries to recall which way will take her to the foyer. Which way will take her to freedom.

She hears footsteps behind her and makes an abrupt choice to go left. She is being pursued. She hears the footfalls behind her. She hears them in front of her too. They have her cornered. She hadn’t thought it through, she has managed to corner herself. Her breathing grows heavier as the sets of feet grow closer. “No.” She utters. “No, no.”

They surround her.

“Azula what’s going on? What did you do to Sokka?” The voice isn’t gruff nor angry but her mind distorts it in such a way that it may as well be.

They close in on her. She ignites her palms but there are too many of them. They take hold of her hands and one of them takes her around the middle. She continues to kick and struggle. She won’t let them strap her to that damn table again. She won’t!

Someone manages to seize her legs. Her mind and body can take no more stress. At least this time she won’t be awake when they rip into her.

#Avatar The Last Airbender #Azula #Sokka #Sokkla #Zuko #Fanfiction

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inexchangeforyoursoul · 6 years

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Luffy, son.... you are not supposed to serve tea this hot to people… (I wanted that to be its separate chapter, but it turned out to be waaay too short for that, and thus, a waste of ch numbers. Art incoming, too; because of that, this will be another “tumblr exclusive (for a while)” part.)

As I’m rather happy with this thing and it’s a halfway Law-centric chapter, I shall put it in the main tags. (this is a dumb LawXOC thing; this one seems to beee.... roughly 4500 words, attagirl)

This was the part that was fun to write even while unmotivated. I think y'all understand why. Now, for the less pleasant things, out of which I'm missing the next two or three chapters entirely… ho, boy. Now, this will be power writing. (Also thanks to anyone who might be here who might have written any of the anon messages I got to keep me going past this particular chapter???)

Ps.: do not ever sterilize your whole entire house if you have a kid. They are meant to catch things so their immune systems get stronger… and have work to do. Because if they don't, they get bored, and a bored immune system will look for shit to defend against anyway; this is how your kid gets allergies ranging from 10 pollens through animals to fucking SUNSHINE. They are meant to be sick a lot in the first couple of years, deal with it. And fucking vaccinate them, too.

31. We need to talk

8 o'clock; there's noone opening the door gently, nor is there anyone near-falling down the stairs. All is perfectly still.

Law drums on the desk with his fingers and sighs; he kind of saw this coming. Doesn't make convincing himself to go out and fetch the girl any easier, however. He's about as unwilling to seek her out as it is the other way round.

A good ten minutes later, he drags himself out of his room and up to the surface; it's relatively silent for a Saturday morning, but a lot of these idiots have been out partying, so whatever. He wouldn't be surprised if half of his crew was still out snoring on a bank or alley.

It's all the more scary when a masked rando pops up right beside him at the railing of the Thousand Sunny with a cheerful ‘yo, Kat’ as he starts checking on her whereabouts.

It's Luffy with one of those fucking… things. Looks like a cheap imitation, too. Seriously… if he didn't know it was one of these idiots, he would have gotten a heart attack. He's still way too jumpy in this body, goddamn.

“Strawhat-ya, honestly... does Kat-ya make a face like this all day?” he asks, with mild annoyance, pointing at his scowling self. “Also… take that thing off.” It's kind of creeping him out, now that he's taken a good look at it up close.

“Ah, right, it’s you, Torao… and nope, it's pretty rare,” Luffy nods, then plucks the mask off his head. “Found it between these big warehouses! Pretty cool, huh?”

“I'm not surprised it was ditched… Anyway, if even you can tell that much, then why do you keep mixing us up?” It's been like… no, not ‘like,’ it HAS been a week, for fuck's sake.

“Well, hugger you is definitely not you you, but otherwise... both Kat and Torao are worried, sad or angry most of the time, so it's hard to tell them apart, to be honest,” he states wondering as he drops the prop on deck with relative care and puts his hands on the back of his head to lounge at the railing. “Like today. And, whenever they are really tired, it feels like the prickly needle thing you get when your leg falls asleep. Everyone else tends to be more like... slow waves, when you stand in water.” He stretches one leg out and flaps the sandal to his soles.

“Huh?” What? Being talked about in third person is also weird, but… excuse him?

“The feel you two give off is pretty similar is all. Though I guess Kat is also more tense overall, at least she used to be. And she has a lot of weird jokes. That I usually don’t get,” he squints. Whenever the others find something she said funny and he doesn't get it, he feels left out, really.

“No, I mean… what would she be pissed off at?” And sad. And tense… He won't even try comprehending that other stuff. Anyhow, she can be the very literal definition of a nervous system at times, that's for sure. The very first thing he knew about her was that she was either really nonchalant about something, or about to have a panic attack, after all. And not exactly in the situations that matched those reactions... she shrugged off a date with the Reaper, but was really anxious when Nami dragged her off to get her cuts and bruises treated by Chopper on board of the Sunny two minutes later. But... halt, stop. It just registered… what does rubber boy mean by him being similar to her?

Luffy shrugs. “Dunno and don't really care. It's not even directed at anything, though... which is the weird thing about it.” He hops up on the railing to sit, then crosses his arms.

Law sighs… his observation haki will never be on this level. And the way Luffy formulates it is akin to an 8-year-old giving descriptions of a dream, which doesn't help, either. Reading faces and gestures can only get you so far, doesn't it.

Scowling a bit, Luffy eventually comes to a conclusion. “Maybe she just hates herself.”

The surgeon is a little taken aback by that; going by what this dunce just said, it makes sense, but... “Why would she...?” he mumbles mostly to himself, also crossing his arms. Going by whatever he could gather from Shachi and the rumors from her time in the dining hall, it did cross his mind that she might have some self esteem issues, that’s why he decided to be better safe than sorry and basically walk on eggshells when dealing with her. How she acts in general can support the idea, too, when considering some traits from another point of view…

“You are the one hanging out with her all the time, so why do you ask me?” Luffy pouts. The expression turns into a thoughtful one soon, then turns into mild worry. “… do you hate yourself, Torao?”

In the blink of an eye, he and his body (that’s worryingly cold in the first place) both realize that it’s like twelve degrees Celsius at best outside, and that not taking a sweater over a thin undergarment and breezy, medium sleeved shirt was a Mistake™. “You're… overthinking it,” he responds while waving dismissively.

“Really? That's a relief!” the other captain sighs and puts a smile back on.

“... yeah.” Perhaps it all boils down to her having a similar way to handle her emotions? She did keep being in pain a secret, which is something he does, so that's one thing they have in common. But goddammit, Strawhat… don't just say things like this all of a sudden.

He peeks then up towards the garden, where rhythmic little thuds have been disturbing the silence for the past minute. They really ought to talk.

Right now.

This is much easier to do once Nami appears from the direction Kat could be, as the navigator won’t let her captain go alone and get himself lost again in town when latter declares his intention to go back, even despite his excuses of being able to see the Sunny from the church tower when it’s not dark. Having gotten rid of Luffy surprisingly quick this way, Law stops on the stairs as soon as he’s high enough to look around. He peeks towards where he suspects her being, and indeed, the noise that started somewhere down the line was caused by a dazed Kat. He weighs his options for a moment; on one hand, taking some time off is a reasonable way to handle this. On the other… if he leaves this up to the girl, she may never show her face again, which is no viable route for him to take. He’ll definitely have to take initiative.

Noticing the light steps closing in on her, Kat stops drumming her heels against the ship.

Law sighs. “Look…. I know I’m making you uncomfortable right now, but I really kind of need my body back as soon as possible.” … maybe not the best start, but he got the point across.

After a short pause, Kat bonks her head into the wooden pillar in front of her with considerable power, and takes a long, sharp breath.

Law watches in perturbed bafflement. Um… maybe… it was a bad start, after all.

“I’ll manage,” she sighs, straightening herself at once. “It’s hard to ignore, and cuts my productivity in half, but… is, what it is. I’ve kind of made peace with telling my boss as-is, too, so that won’t be bothering me.” She pauses the fast rant for a moment to cut the speed, and stares into the waves licking away at the side of the ship. She had enough time to think about this somewhat objectively during her short-ish wake around midnight and later in the morning. “And you… shouldn’t have to worry about it, either. Once you're all gone for good, it will fade away soon. Knowing myself, I might not even be able to remember your name in a few months, anyway,” she shrugs all limp. “I’m no good with names, so… it would be nothing new.” It’s a famous and super simple name that’s not hard to catch, so she likely will. Maybe even his surname, since it’s a funny one. No promises, though.

… twisting knives much? Sheesh, he never suspected her of being capable of such… savagery. And he thought Luffy was being blunt today… Generally, he likes both of their honesty quite a lot, but Kat saying that he’ll be deleted from mind as soon as he’ll be out of sight is… a bit too much. And frankly, it hurts like a bitch. If he was in any way unsure about how he felt about her until this, well... there are no doubts about it now. He better keeps all of this to himself, though.

After all... it really is for the best. Technically, good news, even. And he also gets her; it’s the pragmatic thing to do. Having any kind of amiable relationship with a pirate is not exactly easy. There's no sure way to reach them, and sending messages to someone endangers that person. Hell, they all could die the day after setting sail for all he knows. A part of him has an even deeper understanding of what she means… it's not about worrying about anyone getting killed, quite the contrary. She's sheltering herself from getting hurt, by simply staying indifferent. He handles strangers the same way, and did the same for the longest time while with the Family: laughing whenever he felt like it... helping if he wanted to, or if he had to... generally enjoying the company, but not building any meaningful relationships. The question is, though... how did she get there, to this mindset? Few normal people do that. It could be just the way she’s always been, but considering how much she strives to please people around her, and how sensitive she seems to be to other’s moods in the first place…

Who hurt her?

Getting no response and feeling his eyes on her back is getting to her fast; Kat puts her head back against the pole and continues. “... Sorry, that sounds... really mean... but I suck at keeping in touch anyway. People just... come and go?” She shrugs, then starts to swing her legs again, until her heels hit the ship and she stops with limbs still flailing about. “I have no idea what my kinda-friends from high school or college are up to, either. Even when I think about fun times and miss someone… I never sit down and write a letter or go visit. I don’t get any further than grabbing a pen, but… what even are the chances they still live where they used to, huh?” She puts on a bitter smile that fades away fast. “Am I... a bad person? For that?” Her voice is unstable and hoarse at this point. She takes a shaky breath, followed by a gulp.

“... no, you're not.” Not being able to keep up with people is okay. Being stuck in a cage of her own making is, though. He takes a moment of consideration, then joins her at the railing.

Kat stares down to where her hands should be through the white pillar as Law plops down, then speaks up after a short pause while holding back a sniffle. ”The other week, I was wondering... why none of them tried to hit me up, either. Ever. I guess I'm just... that insignificant...” The sniff escapes and she also needs to wipe off a tear.

“…” He didn’t plan on joining a therapy session, nor doing anything else past talking, but a good old shoulder pat is definitely warranted here, so that’s what he does. Realizing that the cold hand made her shiver is too little, too late, so he just rolls with it. “Now, now… you know like a dozen of infamous people as of last Tuesday, so that automatically makes you count for something.” Her self esteem really seems to be in a bad shape. There's definitely some asses that ought to be kicked on these islands, because this is definitely not normal behavior.

Cannot help but crack a smile at that. “If you say so.” She rubs her eyes. “Sorry, I went off tangent again.”

“As did I the other day… and? Got it out of your system?” Seems like she’s bouncing back at least.

“Kinda,” she breathes after a pause.

“Just kinda?”

“…” She rests her temples against the railing again, even though it’s starting to hurt, bump she just made notwithstanding. “Every now and then, I keep thinking… how there would be someone in my place to do all the things I do.” Her eyebrows furrow. “If not now, then later. I’m just another pebble in the sea, and it feels… suffocating.”

“… I see.” Oh, boy… this actually sounds like more zero filter stuff, but without drugs to make it weird. Which is iffy, since he’s far from being a psychologist. Well, is what it is… take notes, analyze, and most importantly, watch your fucking mouth.

“Like, I know it’s the same for important people, inventing and doing actual, impactful stuff. Because, there’s little difference in the grand scheme of things, is there? It just doesn’t matter whether something happens today or in a hundred years. Everyone is replaceable. As is everything else. What I wanna say, is… wanting attention… at all… makes me feel selfish. Even when it probably shouldn’t.” Feeling the hand on her shoulder makes it tingle… she’d move, if not for knowing that he would lift it off again.

“… Um…” Okay… he might have stepped into this one hard. Aside from blinking wildly, because this has suddenly nosedived into deep waters… he needs a second here. The spaced-out girl he got to know in the past two weeks thinks about this shit regularly? She did seem less bubbly and way less excitable than she actually is at first glance, but… holy shit. She actually is pretty good at brooding herself. If he wasn’t so dumbfounded, he’d be impressed. “… wow, I… never considered the possibility that you could be a nihilist.” A very sentimental nihilist. That’s certainly what he takes from this. The conclusion is kind of enlightening.

She remains silent for a second, then squints. “... all I crave is death.”

Law lets out an exasperated sigh, then slaps her on the back of the head resulting in another light bonk. “Don’t you think for a second that I cannot tell the difference between you being serious and on the brink of grinning like an idiot,” he tells her off with the other hand on his hip. She may be trying to keep a poker face up, but none can do if she’s gonna use that overly dramatic delivery anyway. This woman, he swears to god.

And, as soon as the jig is up, there it is: the smile.

She reaches up to scratch the head area that stings a little after getting smacked. “Heh… sorry, had to break that gloomy mood.” Though, no lie, she does like talking about heavy stuff like that. If Law did not seem to be bothered by it, she probably would have continued.

“By willingly pissing me off?” Was that really necessary?

“Well… it worked, didn’t it?”

“Touche,” he breathes, crossing his arms. “But don’t make a habit out of it, if you know what’s good for you.” If she has actually figured out how to dig down to his berserk buttons, she’s playing with fucking fire, and he wouldn’t be surprised if she found enjoyment the activity. “I can fix myself up as soon as I get my body back, and rearranging your internal organs or face with, or without my powers, is not beneath me.”

She nods, humming. “I didn’t doubt for a second that you’d make a feisty kuja, alright. Will not overdo the gremlin act.”

“… good.”

After a silent pause, Kat stops rubbing her head. “… say, Law?”

He lets out a questioning hum.

“Are you in pain… because you were sick?”

“…” Is there a point to tell her anything if it’s so obvious in the first place? Oh well, she's asking, so… “Yeah. There are a few intergrowths I cannot really do anything with. Removing the lead deposits left my body aching at random, the bigger they were, the worse it is… you’ve probably noticed, but some areas like the left side of my torso and the right jaw are the main culprits. Those spots tend to act out a little even when everything else is fine. And I have additional god awful headaches when it’s too hot or cold outside and I don’t hidrate proper. These are honestly the worst aspects of it, no lie.”

“Act out like... Saturday evening?” When she first noted how something was a little off? It’s the only common experience they have…

He thinks for a moment. “Yeah, like that. The odd tissue that seems cancerous during a checkup, I can get rid of... but the fucking pain just won’t go away. Unless I kill off the receptors altogether, but that strikes me as an exceptionally stupid idea.” Even if it sounds really tempting at times. Maybe if he did it to his internal organs only…

“Wait…” Kat takes the first look at him today, and looks very much taken aback at that; “did you say cancer?” As soon as he looks back, she averts her eyes again. Seeing him, save looking him in the eye, is just… not something she can handle at the moment.

He blinks at the reaction, but keeps his eyes on her for a second. “Heard me right. Don’t shit yourself, I can deal with it.” Looking back in front of him, he adds, “I’m also legally infertile, but that’s the least of my problems.” He’s unlikely to get old, too, but honestly… there’s only so many times you can cheat your expiration date.

“Oh,” she says a second later. And sounds quite disappointed at that.

“... don't you ‘oh’ me. You can have all the kids you want for all I care.” As long as her plans involve someone else, that is. … aw fuck, brain, don't you have anything else to comment on?

“Oh, no, no, no, it's just…” She gives the sideburns a scratching; “This is going to sound so stupid… but you seem like… the dad type?”

Law laughs out at the ludicrous idea. “Me? Seriously?” Geez, that’s so… out of the blue. Even more so than the being married line. Never even seen him with a kid around, has she? They just tend to shit their pants right away. He needs to put a hand on his temples to process this a bit… and to make sure there’s no headache caused by stupid on the way. “God… the hell makes you think that?”

“Well, for starters… someone like Luffy would drop his toddler into the ocean by accident, which you would… not.” As simple as that. From what little she’s heard about Garp’s parenting… even if Law happened to be on the strict side, there is, like, no competition here, honestly.

A millisecond of consideration ends up in a concerned, solemn nod on Law’s part. He wouldn’t want Strawhat oversee children in general, or at the very least, not leave them with him all alone. He out-dads him in any technicality regarding safety and common sense, so that’s a score.

“You still could be fun around, though,” Kat continues leaning back; “Like… you would totally do something like sticking them to the ceiling as punishment for being bad,” she muses with a little relaxed smile, pulling up some average family scenarios. “but, unless you are obviously angry with them, they would love it instead. You could experiment with pretty much everything from floating to chopping them up, but all would backfire spectacularly as they think of it as just another game.”

“... can’t argue with that,” the notes, raising a brow. “Little hellraisers be like that.” Punishing a kid that's acting out, well… Best bet would be the basic ‘send them into a corner’ situation instead of getting creative, huh?

“You’d also be the go-to solution for homework… despite not being helpful at all.” Definitely trolling the shit out of anyone who’s trying to use him for an easy pass… yes, yes. Would come through when needed, too, she knows that much firsthand.

“Correct,” Law nods with a smug grin. He absolutely would be the most useless genius around. It would drive them crazy and he would be enjoying the hell out of it. If they legitimately did not understand something, though… that’s actually negotiable.

Having seen enough of his self-assured smile from the corner of her eye, she addresses him directly. “... get off your high horse, Law. You might be a little shit, but you’d also be out-bawling anyone at any milestone your kiddos reach whatsoever,” she states with an amused look.

“Absolutely not,” comes the indignant reply; “Do I look like the sentimental type to you?”

She takes a long, thoughtful look at his general direction. “Look… I might not be able to guarantee it, but as far as I’m concerned, you would transform into the worst mess of a doting ‘pappa’ there ever was as soon as you’d be holding your firstborn.” First day of school and graduations would be just as bad, if not worse… god save everyone if he’s around for a wedding. Him sobbing in a tux while trying to operate a visual transponder is not a mental image she’ll forget any time soon. In fact, she’s going to treasure the hell out of it. Even if she’s more used to him looking like her, so it takes some extra imagination points to see him in his own body.

Her chuckle earns a very unamused face. “I won’t even begin to try and imagine what you just thought of, but really? Really really?”

“Ve-really,” she states while booping his nose, then gets her hand pushed off to the side. “Honestly… you’re saying it’s very unlikely in the first place, right?” She ponders, scratching her head while sitting upright again. “You can’t tell me that you wouldn’t be all over a baby? Beating whatever low odds?”

“...” She’s probably not wrong on that one. Up to eight, maybe ten per cent aren’t a lot...

“And let’s not even get started on the naming process… You have at least…” her fingers straighten one by one; feather guy, little girl, baby’s grandparents, and who knows, who else? “four, if not a dozen they’d have to pry from your cold, dead hands before settling for anything else!” He based his entire image on one of these people, for fuck’s sake. First boy would definitely get that name, whatever it may be.

… not to mention the chances of a healthy child…

“And… little ones are always sick or some shit, right? You’d go into doctor overdrive. Give them checkups like every fucking week, and be staring from over the bathroom door to make sure they wash their teeth, and… dude, I’d fucking hate to be your kid, oh my god!” At least it takes him like point five seconds to sterilize the entire house instead of scrubbing everything all day like a manic housewife, but holy shit…

“Kat…“

“I have no idea how you’d handle feeding them in any capacity, though… you run, like, exclusively on a handful of veggies, rice, potatoes… and chicken… and fish. And, you suck at cooking.” And the occasional drink. Would he be willing and able to make legit sandwiches…? He has no qualms touching the bread, made those French toasts, so that’s a start. This kind of presupposes him being allowed in the kitchen like a single dad, but still, she can’t help wondering how he would tackle that humongous elephant in the room if the need arises.

“Kat-ya, stop.”

The edge in the word startles her enough to delete the train of thought altogether. “Uh… um…” Did she say something wrong again? Did she hurt him? Or insult him? Is… is he angry…?

He sighs, staring into the darkness underneath the waves. “I suppose… you are right,” he says a few seconds later, his head also meeting the railing. “I am… the dad type.”

She stares down at her now interlocked hands; the images she found so amusing before… look sickly and pale all of a sudden. A quick reality check has sucked all life out of them. Managed to fuck his day up again, huh?

“Dreaming… is dangerous,” Law concludes. The last time he did something like that… came with just another harsh wake-up call.

“… sorry. Didn’t mean to upset you.” Again.

“Eh, I’ll get over it.” However… he’s once again reminded of the fact that he’d been living to fulfill a singular goal for over a decade, and ever since he’s pretty much reached it, he’s been feeling… well, rather lost, to be honest. Stretch goals, like going against Kaido are a sufficient distraction at best. Sometimes he hears a little voice in the back of his head breaking through regardless before muffling it, talking about being tired of this life… bringing up the clinic of his own he's always wanted… having a home to return to.

Peace.

He knows better than to hope for any of that.

A single finger tapping his arm makes him realize that his eyes and nose cavity are burning up. This is followed by her barely audible, little mouse voice; “... Law?”

He takes a shaky breath and rubs his temples, sneaking in a finger to wipe away the half-ripe tear from the corner of an eye. “I’m fine, I’m…” he comes to a halt upon looking at her; “oh my god, are you crying?”

“... a little,” Kat squeaks after swallowing once.

Law snorts all of a sudden, then breaks out in painful laughter. The tears are also coming, but fuck it, because... while he’s hurting, this… also feels kinda good. Actually, it feels great. Talking about all of this… is great. She’s a better psychologist than he could ever aspire to be. Cafe girl… you are too fucking nice for your own good. Sincerely, fuck you.

As soon as the surprise wears off, Kat joins in, too.

After a solid minute or two, Law flops on the grass with hands covering his face. “... both of us… are kinda fucked up, huh?” he ponders out loud after the last couple of laughs. It’s kind of a dumb question; who even is not fucked in the head from all the people that he knows? He should have known that she was no different, even if the causes are still a mystery. No wonder the two of them can hit it off.

“I guess so,” Kat sniffs, rubbing her entire face that must be as red as it feels.

Sliding his freezing hands lower, Law stares skyward at the thickening clouds for a while. Laughing and crying are both exhausting… not to mention doing both at once. It feels like floating in a weird dream. Peaceful, even. Every weight has slid on his back, which is neatly supported by this nice ship made of pure sunshine, leaving him to breathe freely for the time being. He would say a ‘thank you,’ but it gets stuck somewhere in his throat.

He must be in really fucking deep, huh. Not that he minds, though… it feels really nice, after all. A little too much to be true, yes. But for now… he doesn’t want to worry about his short future. Instead, right here, right now... he just wants to enjoy this moment. As much as he can. As long as he can. To the fullest.

#opfanfic #opfic #one piece fanfiction #Trafalgar Law #Kate writes #KMKY

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joo-heo-n · 7 years

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Crime Breeds the Creative Artist

Genre: Angst/Fluff

Member: Hyungwon

Word Count: 2,000

a/n: Here is the second part, please enjoy!

Summary: “The job of the artist is always to deepen the mystery.” ~ Francis Bacon

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8

You were tired to say the least, weekends were plenty full of tourists, hence the museum became a full-house. On such days, there were several tour guides, following different routes throughout the three-story building so that not everyone followed just one person. You ended up receiving a tour path on the second floor, not your usual, but you took it nonetheless. You made sure to study the day before all the paintings and pieces, such as sculptures, since you had become accustomed to the third floor paintings.

Anyhow, you were tired, your cheeks felt weak from smiling all day and you were sure you were going to dream with art of all shapes and colors from all eras and backgrounds.

You watched as the countless visitors continued to enter the floor as others exited it. Although the tours had come to an end, you were still required to walk around and ask if anyone had questions as well as watch for wandering hands and cameras after pieces. Without much realization, you bumped into a group of people, apologizing immediately and returning to your task, finding a woman’s curious fingers reaching for a sculpture, “Oh ma'am, please don’t-” you barely were able to say before a familiar voice called your name, making you turn in perplexity.

You found your number one fan staring right at you, he waved as he made his way towards you, wearing his signature charming smile. “Oh, hi, you’re here again?” you teased as he reached you, hands in the pockets of his coat as he scoffed, “I actually came to pay my last visit” he stated and you instantly felt your shoulders tempted to drop.

“Oh no, why is that?” you asked, a hint of disappointment in your voice. He nodded and looked around before turning back to you, “I had a business trip in the city, so I was staying nearby but it’s time for me to go back” he said plainly, to which you felt yourself grow more disappointed at. No chance you’d get to know him now, when he wasn’t even a local.

“Ah I see, that’s a shame, you seemed to have really liked it around here” you commented, you had your job to thank for for being able to make conversation with almost anyone, because the man before you was nearly impossibly handsome and if you didn’t have an audience to talk to nearly every week, you were sure you wouldn’t be able to chat up with him at all.

He chuckled lightly and averted his gaze from you, his expression suddenly becoming flustered. He then cleared his throat and met your gaze once more with a sheepish smile, “It could have been the place that I liked” he stated, and without much thought you let out a nervous chuckle, “Well what else would it have been- ah that painting upstairs really mesmerized you” you said, using your hand to muffle your chuckle. “Mm, yeah the painting could have been mesmerizing I suppose” he replied with a nod, his humor right behind your own, “Do you memorize your tour information passionately or because it is your job?” he asked abruptly, making you continue to chuckle, “Passionately, I studied art history diligently” you admitted to which he raised his eyebrows at.

“Impressive” he commented, bringing his arms to cross over his chest, and you nodded in agreement. “You aren’t so bad yourself, you seem to know a lot” you said to which he chuckled at, “I’m a little bit of a fan, yes” he admitted, and you felt yourself instantly become aware that you were still working and had things to get back to. Your smile faltered as you sighed, “I wish I could keep talking but I have to keep spreading my art knowledge” you said and his eyes widened in realization, “Oh that’s right, sorry for keeping you” he apologized. You shook your head in dismissal and waved your hands before you, “No not at all, it was great talking to you, please make sure to stop by again when you get the chance” you said, holding your hand out for him to shake.

As he took your hand, a few people crowded behind him as they began to observe the sculpture, causing him to almost forcibly be moved towards you. He continued holding your hand as he apologized to you for the sudden proximity, but all you could do was shake your head in a flustered manner as he continued to hold your hand gently. He let go slowly and as he did he looked down and bent down, making you suddenly very bewildered. “You dropped this” he said, coming to stand once again to hand to you your name tag which allowed you to access the building and specific rooms for employees. You instantly gasped and took it, “Oh no, thank you!” you said, bringing it back to the clip at your chest, “How did I not notice it came off?” you added, knitting your eyebrows together.

“It happens” he commented before looking around once more and coming back to meet your gaze, “I won’t hold you any longer, I’m really leaving this time” he then said and you smiled, “Right, thanks again” you said to which he simply nodded and waved goodbye to as he then turned around and disappeared amongst all the people.

You couldn’t help feeling disappointed, but mostly weary at not being able to leave for the next hour or so.

You paced the third floor, oddly quiet without no one else but you and the art work occupying it. You made sure everything was in good shape before the upcoming event of the museum, two of your co-workers and yourself checked your assigned floor. You searched for moved sculptures or finger stained frames when suddenly you heard a loud scream from the second floor, making you jolt back in your spot. By impulse, you quickly made your way down the stairs and found your co-worker from the first floor also rushing up the stairs. Both of you turned to your second floor co-worker who was panting as she stood against one of the walls. “What the hell, what happened?” you asked, making your way towards her as she began to chuckle nervously, “T-The camera- it had like a short circuit and fucking exploded!” she managed, pointing at one of the cameras on the ceiling.

You squinted as you stared at the pieces of the device hanging from the ceiling, “Go to the camera room and talk to security” you said to your co-worker from the first floor, who at your command, ran to the room. “Crap, that scared the life out of me… I thought I had accidentally broken something” she admitted, a hand over her heart as she swallowed hard. “It probably overheated or something” you suggested, getting closer to where the shattered plastic and glass lay on the floor.

“Why’d you send him to check the cameras?” she asked, and you let out a sigh with a shrug, “I don’t know, just so he could see what security told him, we can’t have more cameras exploding” you said with a sigh, “Let me finish checking upstairs that way we can leave already” you added and she nodded. You let your shoulders drop in relief, already making your way to the staircase. As you reached the top floor, you instantly regretted your decision.

Two men dressed in black, masked, turned to you and immediately one held a gun up at you. Your heart rate spiked, and a pang of fear spread through your stomach as you froze in your spot, staring at the man a few feet away from you.

The other man was making his way to the back, a painting in hand as he exited the floor through an employee backdoor. “Y/N!” your co-worker shouted from the bottom floor and you gasped, feeling your heart hammering hard against your sternum, as you began to feel yourself shake. “Come with me” the man spoke in a husky voice, approaching you and you began to shake your head pleadingly, “N-No, please, no” you begged, retreating a few steps before he had neared you and taken your arm harshly, then quickly searched your pockets and threw to the floor your cellphone. The two of you began walking in a rush while he pulled you with him to where the other man had gone. Without much realization, tears began to escape your eyes as his gun remained directed towards your head, all while the two of you went into the fire exit staircase.

At the last floor, his partner waited for him, your co-workers and the security guards sat tied up against the staircase and your stomach suddenly dropped. Even though you had felt some relief at seeing they had not been murdered, that feeling was soon disappearing into thin air as your hands got brought to your back and became tied. You thought they’d sit you down alongside the rest but more panic made its way into your system as soon as you became blindfolded and got pulled to continue walking. You were able to hear your co-worker whimper as you were taken away.

“Please don’t hurt me- Please just let me go” you begged over and over again until suddenly you were feeling the breeze from outside, disorienting you as you were abruptly being pulled in another direction, nearly tripping over your own feet if it weren’t for the tight grip your captor had on your arm. “Get in- Let’s go!” a deep voice said lowly as you heard the door of a car open before you were put inside. At this point there was no denying your crying and trembling, never did you ever think this would happen and how clueless you’d bee about the whole thing. You wanted to continue to beg but your crying wouldn’t let you and the panic was not helping your thought process.

“Please” you whimpered ever so often, “Please let me go” you hiccuped, your heart continuing to slam against your chest. No one silenced your cries or pleads and it never helped your nervous state, beginning to blank out because of the helplessness and fear. You no longer thought of much except the fact that you might die, or worse, that if you lived, you’d be tortured. You tried taking deep breaths to ease yourself but it all proved to be in vain because in a few seconds, you were being ushered out of the vehicle and taken who knew where.

You heard more voices this time, all different and coming from different directions, “Get in, c’mon” one said by your ear, startling you as you then realized you were being pushed inside a car again. You didn’t know how long the car ride had been but it felt eternal and your crying seemed to have come to a halt, as if you no longer had tears. Finally you were being dragged out of the car and forced to walk. The same voices followed around you, “Take her upstairs” one said, and you felt tugged at, making you walk up a staircase. Before you knew it, you were being told to sit, the blindfold still around your eyes.

“What are you going to do to me?” you asked, your voice breaking mid-sentence and trembling.

No one responded but you were able to hear someone leave the room as you continued to stand in place, too afraid to move. After a few seconds, you tried sitting slowly, bringing your knees to your chest and letting your head fall back against the wall you had found to be behind you. You felt defeated, and hopeless, there was no way you were going to be able to escape when your hands were at your back and you were blindfolded. All you could hope for was that maybe someone would find you before anything worse happened.

#monsta x #monsta x hyungwon #monsta x fanfic #monsta x scenarios #monsta x imagines #monsta x angst #monsta x fluff #monsta x au #chae hyungwon #hyungwon fanfic #hyungwon fluff #hyungwon angst #hyungwon au #hyungwon scenarios #hyungwon imagine

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sleepytoycollection · 7 years

Text

SpacePops: A Review Part 2

Part 1: Here

Well, here I am again, this took me longer to get around to than I intended, but hey, I had four times as many dolls to look at. Not to mention how much drawing I’ve been doing for my main blog lately, so yeah I’ve been busy.

Anywhoozle, as my first review can tell you, I found my Luna doll to have a certain amount of charm through all her cheapness, and if you can still find one from your local TRU; you might be lucky enough to snag them for round $2 bucks each as I did. And I def recommend getting one if you can, if nothing else for a nice, articulate spare body and some MH sized shoes. Just don’t let your self pay for than $5 for one. They’re not that fun.

I was lucky enough to manage to get a hold of all five characters, so let’s see how they measure up to Luna. To avoid being too repetitive I’ll try to focus on their unique features only.

Let’s start with Rhea:

Rhea was actually the one I liked the best from her art work. I mean look at it, she looks amazing here, the boots, thigh high stockings, the layers, gloves and chains would’ve made for an amazing doll of the effort had been put in.

I won’t ramble forever about the what-ifs, but it’s just so much of a punch to the stomach to know we’ll never see the real potential these had realized.

I’m not gonna go through the all the profiles, but if anyone’s interested I could scan them in for better visibility.

Gremlin #2.

Getting her out of the box, the first thing that struck me was her hat.

And I mean that literally as there was nothing helping it attach to her head. Much as I’m grateful these dolls lack those plastic ties shot into their heads that mattel’s become so fond of; I don’t think a rubber band would’ve too much to ask for.

Here she out of the box:

She’s...something.

After how much Luna has surprised me by simply being less bad than I feared; Rhea on the other hand was everything I’d worried these girls would be.

Her hair is terrible, it’s the cheapest, nastiest of all the dolls, it’s literally the same stuff the Midnight magic dolls used. It had a gross, greasy feel and wants to pull away from the scalp if I dare try to run a comb through it.

Ugh. On top of that, it became quickly clear I’d gotten a Rhea with a defective hand. Instead of the normal back and forth movement almost every other doll has, she’s got side to side movement.

Except, her hands still have the dents in the molding indicating it’s not meant to turn that way. I’m at a loss. I really can’t tell how this happened, or how her hand isn’t falling off.

It could’ve been worse in that regard, but there’s not many good uses for side to side movement that look natural.

At this point I’d only opened the one doll prior, and so was extremely worried I’d simply gotten lucky with Luna.

sigh.

Her outfit is super cheap, made cheaper looking by how complex a design they were trying to emulate. It’s all one piece and gives the impression of a store bought Halloween costume in miniature.

I will grant however, all the dolls having their name on their tag is cute.

But it’s a wasted detail on something this cheap. The black band on her waist is a sort of flimsy, felt-like material, and the knit of her shorts is thin. I feel like I could easily tear a run in it if I pull just a little too much, especially being unhemmed as they are.

She’s got a slight blue tint to her pale complexion, as you can see her here next to Catrine.

The socks are made of paint, and I’d have rather they be left off entirely. Her left knee also doesn’t bend, and I have not been able to fix it yet.

As you can imagine, after Rhea I lost a lot of energy for these girls. She was the doll I’d wanted the most, and was just disappointing in every way, despite me already having incredibly low standards.

Still, I was going to have to open these girls up eventually. So this time I decided to go for the design I’d liked the least with Athena:

Every time I look at her dress I can’t help but think of the Flintstones. Not in a cute way either.

It’s like if, after their crossover, a member of the Jestons universe tried to make a fashion version of their cave clothing as a cheap cash in, and just doesn’t work for me that much. Maybe it’s partly the colors used.

It’s a little better art wise, but eh. Maybe if she wasn’t he same color as Rhea..?

Blah blah profile.

Gremlin #3.

Despite my opinions on her look, out of the box she struck me as a pleasant increase in quality if nothing else. Nothing falling off, no visible defects.

It was around this time tho I was starting to realize there seemed to be a decided aversion to hair gel. Her spiked updo’ is translated as a short ponytail here.

Can’t say I mind too much, but lack of gel means her hair gets pulled pretty easily, especially where her glasses are. She’s got nothing on Gilda Goldstag that’s for sure.

Her tie is made of the same cheap fuzzy stuff Rhea’s belt was made of, for that matter her gold belt is the only new fabric type here.

But to my great surprise her skirt has a separate over lay!

And it’s even lined, I’ll admit it improved my opinion of her a good bit. It feels sturdy.

Her netted sleeve too is competently made.

..but left a stain on her arm.

With out the overlay her outfit looks a bit less flinstone-y, so I’m just gonna leave it off.

Under her dress she has some pink tights, which I appreciate as they become less and less common in the doll world. Even if it makes me wonder why Rhea couldn’t have had socks. Just one of those things I guess.

Her glasses are held in neatly with, of all things, the help of tiny plastic bobby pins!

!!! I’m sorry but that’s adorable, tiny pins! And they work! Amazing.

Her hair is the same quality as Luna’s, thank goodness, and is easy enough to brush out.

But to my dismay, her glasses don’t fit her face. If you put the arms over her actual ears, they set waayyyy too low. I can’t get them to twist so the bridge will set on her nose. But if I place them high enough so the lens can cover her eyes, they get stuck from her head being too wide and wont’ touch her face.

That said, I like the shape and look of these, and I’m sure I have plenty of other dolls who can rock them. But it doesn’t say much for your line if your accessories can’t be used for the doll they were made to be used on.

Still, Athena was a huge improvement to my energy for these girls, so let’s hop over to Hera.

I wanna take a sec to apologize for the quality of several of these pics, my camera’s very old and staring to kick the bucket.

Hera’s pretty cute, if you like Draculaura. Which I do. The fact the lime green specifically reminds me of Snow Bite, which is my fav version of Ula helps make it a pleasant comparison.

Gremlin #4.

Yay! A different fabric! And hemming! It’s a dream come true~

Now if only I had the same excitement over her hair.

It’s the standard for these dolls tbh, but being curled has not agreed with it. I’m kinda afraid to touch it. She’s got a head band in there, but it’s very hidden.

even if it wasn’t, it’s just a plain ribbon, no where near the flower crown of her art.

The dress is really the star here, of all the outfits so far it’s the one that feels the sturdiest, and no printed details.

Her tag.

Her tights are different fabric to the other ones we’ve seen. It’s not as stretchy, which is why you see it sagging around the knees. It’s the kind of netting you’d see as a tulle petticoat.

It looks alright, but it makes me concerned with how durable these would be in the long run.

Now,you may have noticed me not making any comments on the shoes. Well I have a very good reason for that:

They’re all the same. They reused the same shoe mold for all four of these girls, leaving only one who doesn’t have these heels.

That girl being of course, Juno.

She was my second favorite of all the girls when I saw their art all that time ago.

Aside from how much I love the colors used, she has pants! And a shaved head!

...And another Gremlin.

And last but not least, here she is:

Of all the girls, she’s the one who comes the closest to looking like her boxart.

So not too surprising her outfit is to be my favorite of the bunch.

She’s also the only one to use any kind of styling product. Fairly lightly, but it’s on there. Yet, despite how little there was used they still managed to get a good bit on her face.

Can’t have it all I suppose.

But the flocking looks good.

I also appreciate how she has the most unique face paint of all the ladies. It’s not much by usual standards, but with every girl using the same face mold, they can use all the differences they can get.

Without her Jacket you can bein to see just how had that top is, but she can put her hands in her pockets, so if there had to be a trade off, I’ll admit they made the right one.

Her jacket is nicely sewn, only her collar sporting an unfinished hem, but I don’t know how you’d really hem those jagged edges anyhow. It’s usable and looks alright.

Her boots tho, no complaints there. By Spacepop standards these are the best shoes you’ll ever see. By normal doll standards they’re still not bad.

I very serious when I say I love these pants. I feel like most of their clothing budget went into that fabric. Almost like someone was trying.

Sigh. But then you get this.

It’s garbage. The worst piece of all the clothing I’ve seen here, and there’s no way this would’ve held up to a child.

Now what else have I not covered..oh yeah. The gremlins.

They suck.

Like the shoes, the reused the same mold 4 times. Unlike the shoes, I never thought they were cute.

Only 1 dared to use a different mold, Athen’s gremlin:

...Who might be the only one that comes close to being endearing. The combo of a cute hair style, cute paint details, side glancing eyes, make Roxie almost a nice accessory.

Whew, well, now I’ve gone through everything I could think to talk about.

Having gone over every doll just cements that the execution of this line was a huge misstep on the part of Madame Alexander. Tho I can’t be sure.I get the impression they made these to compete with Monster High, but they company simply waited too long.

By 2016 MH was going into the reboot, and with Mattel’s sales and quality going down MA seemed to lost faith in these ladies and gave up before release. It’s a shame too, Maybe the weren’t the most original idea on the market, but They could’ve been a nice solid competition. Instead we got these; and it leaves me with a sense of melancholy the more I think about the ways things are going. With new lines and experiments coming to a standstill nowadays, doll collecting has been less and less exciting.

And now, less than a year after their debut Spacepops have gone the way of Pinkie Cooper and Novi Stars. In their own way, the last remnant of an era of collecting that’s now gone as styles shift to something else.

Still, I plan to have fun my new new set of ladies, I haven’t completely decided how far I’ll go, maybe leave them as-is for posterity. Their flat face ups have grown on me. Maybe I just miss the bright, harsher colors that are going out of style.

All that said, I bought a spare Athena to experiment with, so I’ll def have some follow ups with how these ladies look with a good repaint.

Anyway, I’m tired and out of thoughts for now. Hopefully you found this somewhat informative, and as always thanks for reading.

#doll review #spacepop #spacepop dolls

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mysynthfetish · 5 years

Text

3 Days With Ondekoza (part one)

Righty then, synth-heads, this ain’t your typical synth-or-nefarious-machinery-related post, obviously. But nevertheless, it’s pertinent, and very relevant to the overall makeup of who I am as a person, so read on anyhow, and maybe along the way you’ll make some new discoveries.

First, you may be thinking what (or who) the hell is Ondekoza? Super long story short: a group of mostly male, mostly young(ish) Japanese borderline psychos intent on preserving various elements of the traditional performing arts of Japan, through super intense training and living a communal lifestyle. The group was started in the late 1960s by Den Tagayasu, who had a vision of creating a center of learning such arts, populated with energetic (and eccentric) youth, where people could come and study and thus keep those traditions alive—traditions which at the time Mr Tagayasu truly felt were all but going to disappear, swept away in the tsunami of Japan’s period of rapid economic growth that was going from strength to strength. Thus Ondekoza was born, and with it (though there were a scant few others doing similar but nowhere as mental stuff) the concept of ensemble taiko—playing Japanese drums in a large group as opposed to the traditional set up where a single drum is used in a small ensemble of other instruments (such as you find in Noh, Kabuki, and so on). In 1981, a disagreement regarding the direction and focus the group was taking led the members to split off and form Kodō, with Mr Tagayasu leaving Sado island, taking the drums and the Ondekoza name, and basically starting over. The group was reborn, and has gone through various incarnations—inavoidable really, mainly because members come and go—and is still active today. If you wanna know more about Ondekoza, the internetz, even wikipedia, is your friend.

In the early 90s, Ondekoza did a Marathon Tour of the US. Wait, a “Marathon Tour?” Yes, it’s exactly what it sounds like, they fucking RAN the perimeter of the US. Here’s a poster that was made after their return to Japan following the tour.

You might need to zoom in on the center there to see a kinda wonky map of the US and the course they ran, taking three years to do it. I was studying design at college when they came through my hometown (St Penisblurgh, Flawriduhhhh). I was taking Japanese classes as well, and my Japanese teacher said “you should drop everything and tag along with them for the month they’re gonna be around, I’ll talk to the dean and work it out so you can just turn in your assignments for your classes and not get penalized, I’ll finagle it as a ‘Special Intensive Japanese Language and Culture Study Project’ or something, leave it to me.” Sheeeeit. She made it happen. I had been playing taiko since maybe 8th grade or something, as a close friend was half-Japanese, and his mom founded the Japanese-American Society where I lived, and she decided “You guys pray taiko! Do festibal! Sound good!” Hahaha. Anyway there was some pressure there and I joined maybe a year or two after they started playing (at first it was mostly a family affair, plus two weirdos who claimed to have played with Soh Daiko of NYC though when I had the chance to meet Soh Daiko and ask them, they were like “Who? Ohhh those two annoying weirdos, yeah they came to a few workshops but that’s about it.” Ahem. Anyway. Yeah so I had experience playing taiko. So. I spent three weeks and a bit with Ondekoza, doing everything BUT running with them. I went to elementary, middle and high schools for free performances and workshops. I helped them set up for (and tear down after) those workshops, but also did so for proper concerts in concert halls and such venues. I ate with them, practiced with them, spent just about all day every day with them. At the end, I was so blown away by the whole thing that I had set my heart on joining the group, along with two guys (brothers) from the taiko group I was in (we’d known each other since middle school if I didn’t mention that). My parents flipped their shit! I was threatened with disownment and death. See, they’d paid my tuition and rent while I was studying design. For me to decide to give everything up and walk away from that, when I was like two months from graduating? Haha, yeah, looking back now I can totally see why they were so pissed off. But at the time, it was a huge letdown. In any case, life went on, and 25 years or so later, the chance to spend time with Ondekoza presented itself, and I jumped on it faster than a herd of Drumpf supporters on a box of free MAGA hats.

I’m sorta active on instagram, and follow the accounts of the current (and a few former) members of Ondekoza. Around February I saw posts showing them on a small tour of the US, mostly in central northern states. The flood of memories and nostalgia was sudden and nearly overwhelming. It was like I was seeing the same situations I participated in back in the early 90s all over again. Same situations, same vibe, same atmosphere. Whoa. So I started a conversation with one of the members, told him my background, and one thing led to another and I found myself heading to the asscrack of Saitama Prefecture for a three-day stay with the group, not as a special guest or anything like that, ohhh no, I clearly said “put my ass to work, no special treatment, and I’m cool with running so don’t you worry about that.” (I’ve chiseled my 1km average down to around 4:30, and have no freakin idea how that happened). So last Friday at 06:30 I boarded the express on my local line here and began the 6-hour, nearly 600km journey to The Middle Of Nowhere.

I arrived at just past one in the afternoon, had lunch after some brief introductions, and then it was prep prep and more prep for an annual open-house-slash-memorial-festival they hold at their HQ, which is an old, but not that old, very small, ultra-super-hyper-rural “branch” elementary school building that hadn’t been in use for a number of years thanks to an ageing society and an outflux of people from the area. Beautiful place, in a beautiful mountainous area. But two days prior, they had snow when a cold snap swooped down from Siberia. Check this shit out:

Sakura and snow. Unreal. Anyway. They were worried that either the weather wouldn’t cooperate or they wouldn’t be able to drain the field after the snow melted, but in the end everything worked out and it was Game On! When I said I told them to put me to work I meant it, so when they asked me to do something or help someone out, I did it immediately and to the best of my abilities. Setting up flags on 4m-long freshly cut lengths of bamboo, climbing on top of their main gear-hauling truck and setting up the backdrop curtain (the same curtain I helped set up in theatres and venues back in the 90s!!!). Cutting out printed lines of text, then laying out a timeline display of their activities over the past year (photo below). Etc etc etc. At the end of the day, over dinner (where you have to use utensils with your non-dominant hand, the idea being to strengthen both sides and bring balance to your playing, as well as being a real mental workout), the leader asked me a ton of questions. Seems that I was doing things more like a seasoned member of the group, as opposed to the way people who have offered to help out or whatever in the past have done. It was kind of funny but refreshing or reaffirming at the same time to be sorta praised like that. So even before the end of the first day, I had almost seamlessly integrated into the group, and it was more than I could have asked for or expected. Bedtime came sooner than we knew it, and I ended up sleeping on the sofa in the old staff room, which they use as their main assembly room and area for meals. And with that, my first day with Ondekoza came to a peaceful end.

See you in part two!

#fucktrump #ondekoza #wadaiko

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the-cryptographer · 7 years

Photo

My tiny yugioh shrine - before and after pics. The Jounouchi figure still up top, holding a chain and ready to shank you with a scapegoat~ But I thought I’d zoom in so we could see my BEAUTIFUL NEW ISHTAR SIBS CLEARFILE INSTEAD~

I thought my shrine was getting a little too shippy. And especially a little too shippy in the absence of Mai. WHERE IS ALL THE KUJAKU MAI MERCHANDISE?! i need it pls, thx. But, anyhow~ I bought the Ishtar clearfile off of auction. And I thought it might be an old one, but on the back is actually a logo for the 20th anniversary of ygo, last year in 2016. And they weren’t even really in the movie, so now I’m wondering maybe there is also the chance of some recent Mai merchandise out there, hmm, so she will properly be represented in my collection >3>

But yeah, this is just by the exit to my room so i can stop by before i leave for the day and, offer coins or pieces of fruit or whatever and pray at my card game based alter, and maybe then Jounouchi’s good luck will rub off on me a little~

...

And there’s also a gore version of the shrine, but I usually keep that picture in the back so visitors don’t think i’m a creep. i guess i’ll put this picture in the front if i ever decide to host ritualistic demon summonings in my room or smthn~

(Both prints are from toxicosis by the way.)

Doujinshi are in another location. And I was only going to talk about my stupid ygo bookshelf shrine thing today, but then my doujin shipment came in and I decided FUCK IT i will brag about my crippling lack of impulse control cool swag all at once if i want to... Under the cut-

@battymarionette

If you remember this one~

tdah~ Basically it seems like a Kaiba Corp has put out a game, some kind of ridiculous fantasy RPG where Atem is some kind of Ron the Death Eater villain and Jou may or may not be the princess or smthn. And Mokuba invites Jounouchi over to play it or playtest it or something of that nature. Which seems like as good a premise as any for this kind of thing. And it’s got all the cute platonic Joukuba vibes which is a plus~

But yeah, Jounouchi goes over to Mokuba’s place, has some kind of fight with Seto, and some kind of conversation with Atem, and Mokuba’s kind of confused or upset about something, and then Jou gets all cute and announces that he and Kaiba are dating~ which i’m pretty sure Seto didn’t want Mokuba knowing about or whatever~

But, see, now I’m making this doujin sound sweet when, to be really blunt, i didn’t like it. At some point Seto slaps Jounouchi across the face for something.

I guess I shouldn’t pass judgement when I can’t even read the moon runes that explain why this has happened, but- no. (I’m trying to articulate. It’s not that I think Jou and Seto are incapable of being violent with one another (jfc how hypocritical would it be of me) but there’s something about the whys and the hows~? in my mind, Seto doesn’t gets hands on with that kind of thing unless it’s landing a measured martial arts blow in self defense, or lashing out from a place of extreme vulnerability - the kind that involves him being five seconds away from curling up in a ball of self-protection. So... Seto being collected and composed and instigating violence on Jounouchi’s triggers all my ‘no’ responses. And I also doubt Jounouchi would take that kind of thing without complaint, unless he was actually raving or spiraling and it was, like, a calm-the-fuck-down slap. I think he would definitely retaliate with shouting and intimidation, if not a physical blow. With Jounouchi it’s a little harder for me to define what would prompt physical violence, partly because i think his idea of what violence is is narrower than mine, and doesn’t include things like grabbing somebody’s jacket collar and shaking them around. But, hmm, I think by the time he’s through canon he doesn’t exactly break out the fistcuffs lightly.)

The point was that this doujin made it to the top of my shit list very fast. And I was concerned because, see, I had been avoiding buying KaiJou (in that order) doujins because most of them kind of do this thing to me and completely miss the glass cannon type of volatile fragility I see as being kind of central to Kaiba’s character. But then I caved and ordered a whole bunch. But, actually, I was pleasantly surprised by the other couple of ones I bought, so maybe the curse has finally lifted~ I liked this one in particular-

But, tbh, it also knew the way into my heart~

The way into my heart is Wheeler siblings :x

@rainstormcolors

First of all, I got POLARIS and it was good!

I don’t know what to share about it other than that because it was mostly porn. But I felt like it was kind of sweet and sentimental and Kaiba and Atem going on silly dates at the beginning with gorgeous background details. Also they sit on the throne together at the end and look very in love teehee~

But, yes, thank you for reccing~ I enjoyed a lot~!

BUT- !!! More importantly this finally came in the mail!

To answer your question, it’s a normal rivalshipping anthology. 112 pages, comics and fic~ Exciting things happen like Yuugi and Kaiba playing twister~

And in another story they’re out travelling and having punishment games of some sort and Yuugi gets a beard painted on his face~

AND HIS MOM OMG!! I love when odd characters cameo in my doujins. I think you can tell~

But, no, I lied- I addition to the anthology I got all this other stuff too~

I don’t know. There’s a set of tiny playing cards you have to disentangle. Some have exciting images.

Notably Jounouchi and Atem are the jokers, heh~

I still haven’t checked out the CD. This is a very rushed post where I don’t attempt to read things carefully or any of that~ But it comes with a manual with a bunch of character avatars - lots of expressions for Yuugi and Kaiba, as well as one avatar each for Jou, Anzu, baby Seto, Kisara, and BEWD. So I think it may be a visual novel of sorts. Undetermined~

So now you’ll know what you’re getting if you decide to order, in theory at least. I’m not sure because I bought this off the author’s BOOTH, so idk if the extra merchandise is limited in any manner or if toranoana only sends part of it(?)

ugh, let’s see.

I also got another anthology- a Yuugi-centric one.

It’s mostly rivalshipping, which I’d expect. rivalshipping is really popular in the jp fandom. but, tbh, i enjoyed the more odd ships more-

Like Juudai/Manjoume/Yuugi... Kaiba walks in on the Kohais basically crushing yuugi with love after this it’s so cute~

And Otogi/Yuugi. Ah~ I love the DDM chapters in the manga and how softly Otogi warms up to Yuugi~

A Duel Monsters themed art book I spent too much on~ I’m ashamed to say I don’t recognise a whole lot of the cards

but you’ll recognise Yubel, perhaps~

or the lady that Y!Bakura crossdresses as ;)

and there were quite a few dark magician girls and blue eyeses.

from another illustration book~

and i found a couple of apprenticeshipping doujins on BOOTH, but none of them wow-ed me really~

although I’ve been thinking a lot recently about how Mana inherited the Ring in manga canon. I feel like there are things to consider here. This picture struck me as a result.

Alright~ And now for my favourites~

OMG! A WHOLE DOUJIN ABOUT MALIK AND HIS SIBLINGS!!! I think this one was a predictable fave. I loved it so, sooo much. I was absolutely filled with quality Malik and Rishid moments.

EVERYONE IS SO CUTE!!

Malik and Rishid go biking and run into Mai which is very !!!

There are vacation photographs~

It looks like Malik tries to feed Ra a revival slime and gets eaten himself. I don’t know. But it was good. I’m so happy~ Ishtar family doujins. My life is complete. not really. i can’t die until i finish my fics.

Okay, but my other fave I didn’t see coming at all.

I don’t ship this! I shouted into the void. But nobody really believed her, not even herself. It’s too late for me. I’m just multiship trash. I will ship anything you put in front of me...

Okay, but the real reason I decided to get this was because of this preview panel. Of course I knew it was puzzlleship. But actually I love Mana and vaseshipping for reals. And this was so cute and the art was so pretty I thought- We might as well check the rest of it out~ (the idea of top!Yuugi didn’t hurt either...)

And then jackels happened~ And this kind of ethereal magic stuff~

There was some confusion I think with the cultural imagery in the doujin. Some of it looked vaguely Indic to my untrained eye but- I don’t know what to say, the art was so gorgeous and detailed.

And the smut was all facials and frot so obviously the doujin artist has my gd number, smh.

And Jou appeared near the end, looking amazing, and Jou is automatically about +50 points for any doujin.

I don’t know what to say. Very nice. Would recommend.

Also- just fyi- I do buy doujins for things that aren’t ygo. pls forgive my focus on my ygo obsession tho.

I’m really glad I stumbled across this in the hetalia tag~

And there’s a picture of Tifa being so bad at games at the golden saucer that Nanaki, who doesn’t even have opposable thumbs, can defeat her in PvP. Beautiful~

#doujinshi #Malik Ishtar #Mana #JouKai #prideship #rivalship #kuribohship #offership #nurseship #puzzleship #ygo gx #save me from this card game hell #cw: gore

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juniperkyung · 3 years

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♡ ⌜ PARK CHAEYOUNG, TWENTY THREE, DEMIGIRL⌝ i just ran into JUNIPER KYUNG in downtown wolvepine! they’ve been living here for SIX MONTHS and they currently live in STREAM VIEW. she/they are known to be MELLOW and FLIGHTY, but i think they fit well in wolvepine.

hey guys ! ♡ my name is aspen, i’m 23, and my pronouns are he/him. my tmz is est, but it’s hard to guess based on my non-schedule-sleep-schedule. i like musical theater, anime, and making art. yeah, i’m pretty much the worst guy you know. very "god let me live another day and i’m about to make it everyone’s problem!” just like, as a person. anyways, plot with me. i like everything from fluff, saucier(tm) things, to severe angst ( but if you choose the last option i am not financially or emotionally responsible. ) but! i digress. this is juniper, first of many. let’s plot !

trigger warnings: drug / substance abuse, alcoholism, mentions of domestic violence & sexual assault ( very brief and tagged around it ), mentions of death / violence / blood.

general information.

full name — juniper kyung. nicknames — juni, june, junebug. gender & pronouns — demigirl & she/they. age & date of birth — 23 & november 26th. occupation — tattoo artist, co-owner of sticks&stones. known languages — english, korean. ethnicity — south korean. nationality — first generation korean-american. past residences — los angeles, ca, a few summers in seoul. current residence — stream view. relationship status — single. sexuality — bisexual. animal companions — black kitten, affectionally named jiji after the cat from kiki’s delivery service.

personality & more.

positive — mellow, organized, charismatic, extroverted, empathetic & witty. negative — flighty, paranoid, anxious, hasty, pessimistic, & world-weary. zodiac sign — sagittarius. drinks/smokes/drugs? — often / yes / very often. character inspo — chihiro (spirited away), max caulfield, chloe price ( yes, both of them ), (early seasons) fiona gallagher, (first game of the last of us only) ellie williams, rue ( euphoria ), veronica sawyer, catra ( spop ) & most importantly: marceline the vampire queen. hobbies — sketch art, gardening, painting ( water color ), pokemon card collecting, patch collecting, rock collecting, skateboarding, partying.

biography.

let’s start by opening the curtain somewhere neutral, somewhere familiar — stream view. six months ago, juniper kyung moves into a single bedroom apartment.

she spends a few months mingling with new faces, new people; new everything, because according to the guidelines of the witness protection program, that’s the key to survival. that, the new name, and the roughly 60 grand she has to live off of until she gets on her feet again. lucky for her, a brand new personality wasn’t required, although certain trauma responses might have made for some of that anyhow. but that’s not the point — hana was a confident, charismatic, loving girl, and juniper can be too. maybe just a little muted.

hana’s family is alive and well, but juniper doesn’t dare risking their safety by making contact. both parents and her two younger sisters reside in los angeles california, and she looks at their social medias sometimes, nothing more.

( domestic violence / sa tw begin here, drugs & alcohol & death / violence too; not graphic but be advised regardless. it is fairly emotional and difficult to read! )

sometimes you get wrapped up in a person — mind, body, and soul. it doesn’t really matter what they do to you, or how far they take it without you signing on, not in the name of love, right? for hana, her husband was a whirlwind romance; spontaneous, passionate, thrilling, true love after a month of knowing each other. she runs away with him and puts it all on the line for him, then keeps it on the line, despite whatever he does to her, how often, and how far he takes it. and it’s always so, so far. too far.

for juniper, he’s the lying, cheating, felon who regularly abused and assaulted her; he’s not even an ex, just a memory that no longer legally belongs to who she’s supposed to be now. he’s where the drugs started and where her mind goes when she’s throwing back shots, but as far as she knows, he’s at least rotting in prison. the rest can’t be said for the mob he was involved with. there’s no peace of mind for the friend of hers that he shot point blank for just being with her one night, either. ( if she were allowed, she’d put flowers on his grave every day. she hopes, at least, that he’s at peace. and she’s so sorry. hana and juniper both, are. ) or the girl who upset her once and was found dead a week later. or every male acquaintance she’s had in their six months together turning up dead.

she can’t forget all of what hana saw, no matter how many oxy’s she pops. ( tw end. )

juniper’s story is that she was raised in seattle, was adopted by a lovely couple, and raised right. nothing extraordinary, good or bad, has happened to her, and she likes it that way. moving on is easy if you have nothing to remember, enough passion to put elsewhere, and enough warm bodies to cling to who don’t really know you.

#wolvepineintro

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middlecountries · 4 years

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Quiet Heroes (2 of 2)

Zenek met Annie during his third week of school at Summerhall, the university’s former veterinary school turned arts hub and pub. Both he and Annie were at the pub and she was friends with one of his classmates who was there with Zenek. When they were introduced Zenek immediately noticed her espresso hair and blue eyes. Beyond her beauty, he was also attracted to the fact that she was a photographer.

Zenek and Annie struck up a conversation about photography and art in general. Zenek told her what he was studying and the conversation moved to politics. Zenek learned that Annie was ardently socialist and he admired her it. Their conversation was punctuated by much laughter and light teasing in both directions.

The night wore on and Zenek began to flirt more openly and Annie seemed receptive. But then as Annie was getting ready to leave and Zenek asked her for her phone number, her face darkened. ‘’Can you have my number’?’ she repeated in her thick Scottish accent. ‘I’m not sure that’s a good idea.’

‘Why not?’ Zenek said.

‘Well, there’s someone waiting for me at home…’

‘Oh, I’m sorry. I completely misread the situation. I’m sorry.’

‘No-no. You didn’t. It’s not my boyfriend…it’s, uh, I…I have a five-year-old daughter...’

Zenek was taken aback but compared to the feeling of stupidity and embarrassment he’d just felt, it was a relief. ‘Oh, um, that’s cool. Kids are great,’ he said.

‘Well she’s a bloody handful. I’ll tell you that.’

There was another pause in their conversation and Annie broke eye contact for the first time all evening. ‘Anyhow, it was nice meeting you, Zenek. Hopefully I’ll see you around.’

She turned to leave but Zenek stopped her. ‘Wait. Does having a daughter mean you have no time to date?’

‘No, not entirely, but she takes up a lot of my time and most of my energy.’

‘Well, maybe I can tag along on some activity with you guys some time...’

Annie looked at him inquisitively. ‘That’s a pretty long road to take to get in my pants.’

Zenek laughed. ‘I-uh-I’m not trying to get in your pants.’

‘You’re not? Well now I’m really insulted.’

They smiled at each other some more. ‘What do you say?’ said Zenek. ‘Family-rated date with, uh, what’s your daughter’s name?’

‘Ali.’

‘With Ali?’

Again Annie’s face turned severe. ‘Sure,’ she said. ‘Give me a ring. But you should know in advance that no one comes before my daughter. Especially no charming Canadian boy. Got it?’

Zenek laughed. ‘Got it. No objections here.’

Annie gave Zenek her number and he walked her to the door of the bar where her friends were waiting for her. As she hugged Zenek goodbye, she whispered in his ear, ‘Call me soon, charming Canadian boy.’ Zenek smiled and skipped home feeling the happiest he had in years.

Zenek went to the children’s play area of the Meadows with Annie and Ali a week later. Ali was a pretty, happy girl. She looked at Zenek wearily at first but quickly warmed to his goofy, playful demeanour. Zenek found Annie even more attractive when he saw how she mothered her daughter. She treated the girl with dignity and lightness, a rare combination of behaviours he found in most adult interactions.

They had a picnic after climbing and swinging and rolling around. After they’d eaten they walked back to Annie’s place, a two bedroom flat on Whitehouse Terrace. Annie asked Ali if she’d like to show Zenek her room and she said that she would, ‘very much’.

They all went up to the apartment and Ali showed Zenek her room. Ali was the most proud of her book collection and her paintings from art class at school. Zenek noticed that her walls were covered in pictures taken of her in black and white at various younger ages. Some of them were shining and classically beautiful while others were underexposed and much more somber. Zenek started to wonder where Ali’s father fit into these pictures. He wondered if he’d left Ali like his mother had left him when he was just a small child.

Zenek lingered over the photographs and Ali began putting her books back on her shelf with great care. As if reading his mind, Annie walked into the room holding two beers. She handed one to Zenek and said, ‘Thought you might need this, however good you seem with children.’

‘Thanks. I’m having a great time but it wouldn’t hurt.’ They clinked bottles and watched Ali as she kneeled on the floor finishing tidying her books.

‘Ali,’ her mother said after a moment. ‘Do you want to ask Zenek to stay for dinner?’

The child turned around and looked at Zenek then Annie then Zenek again. Suddenly she leapt to her feet and screaming, ‘Yeahhhhhhh.’ She ran up to Zenek and hugged his leg. Zenek liked the affection but couldn’t help feeling it somewhat out of proportion to the situation. After all, they’d just met and didn’t she wonder what his intentions were with her mother?

As they were all finishing dinner that night Zenek began to wonder whether he should try to stay over. He’d never dated a woman with a child before and wasn’t sure of the proper etiquette. He thought that if he stayed he risked seeming duplicitous to Ali but if he left he risked insulting Annie.

After dinner Annie suggested they all watch TV for a short bit. As they watched an episode of an animated children’s show, Zenek continued weighing his options. Fortunately, as the show ended, Annie made the decision for him. ‘Ali,’ she said, ‘do you want Zenek to read you a bedtime story?’ Ali smiled in approval. ‘Okay, go get changed and pick out a story then Zenek will come read it to you.’

Ali ran to her room and a few minutes later called for Zenek. Zenek went and read her two books. Half way through the second book he looked up to discover Ali was asleep. He put the book down gently, turned off the bedside light, and got up and left the room.

Back in the living room Annie was channel-surfing and nursing another beer. She turned the TV off when she saw Zenek enter the room. ‘Hey, Charming Canadian Boy.’

‘Hey,’ he said and sat down on the couch. She swung her legs up and folded them under herself. She handed Zenek her beer bottle. ‘Sorry to volunteer you to read. She seemed really like you. You really don’t have a secret child somewhere you’re not mentioning?’

‘Haha. No. But I guess I took care of my younger sister a lot growing up. Maybe that’s got something to do with that.’

‘Well, whatever it is, it’s sexy as hell.’

Annie took the beer back from Zenek and took swig. ‘You seem like a pretty awesome mom,’ Zenek. ‘She’s a great kid.’

‘Mmm, I have my moments.’

Zenek hesitated to ask about where Ali’s father was but curiousity and his lowered inhibitions from the alcohol won out: ‘So, uh, where is Ali’s dad?’ Annie turned away from him and sighed. ‘He lives in Glasgow. He’s comes to see her once every month. He’s a decent guy but not a very active father. He sends what money he can but it’s not much.’

‘What does he do?’

‘He’s a photographer. We met in art school. We were young and idealistic and I thought I couldn’t get pregnant because I weighed almost nothing at the time and rarely even got my period.’ She took another sip of beer. ‘By the time I discovered I was pregnant, I was already three months along. It would have been really difficult to terminate that late and Ryan – Ali’s father – didn’t oppose having a child. We were so young and stupid we thought we were both going to be rich photographers in no time so it would all be a walk in the park.’

Annie stared straight ahead and didn’t say anything. She didn’t seem upset about the direction the conversation was going but she was definitely down-cast compared to a few minutes earlier. Zenek decided to continue his inquiry despite Annie’s depressed mood: ‘What happened with you and Ryan? How did things end?’

Annie sighed. ‘We tried to make a go of it but we were just babies ourselves. We had no money and really didn’t know each other that well. We started fighting nearly the minute Ali was born. We soon decided it would be better raised if we raised her in separate happy households, rather than one that one unhappy one. I moved to Edinburgh in 2006 to be closer to my mum and he didn’t object.’

Again Annie paused and stared ahead again. Zenek looked around the room and tried to think of another relevant question or comment. ‘Is it hard being a single mom?’

Annie tilted her head and looked at him. ‘Why do you think I have this so readily at hand?’ She lifted up the beer bottle.

‘But seriously,’ she went on, ‘if it weren’t for money I’d have no complaints. Ali’s great. I love her more than anything. Some times I worry about her not having a strong male figure in her life but she doesn’t seem too damaged yet. Mostly it’s just making rent and getting her decently clothed and feed that worries me.’

‘What do you do for work?’

‘Well I have my photography but mostly I temp.’

‘Oh, that’s, uh…How do you like that?’

‘How do you think?’ she said lifting up her beer bottle again.

This time Zenek paused and stared ahead. ‘Hmm, well, it’s getting kind of late and I have class in the morning. Thanks for the fun day. It was great hanging out with you guys.’

‘You mean you’re not going to try to get in my pants? You’re such a tease.’

‘I-I, uh, I just like to take things slow is all.’

‘’Slow’? Well aren’t you a gentleman. Okay. Maybe you can come see us again next Saturday. Sound good?’

‘Sounds great.’

They stood up and walked to the door. Zenek opened the door part way and stepped outside the apartment into the hallway. He turned around and faced Annie. ‘Goodnight, Annie.’

‘Goodnight Charming Canadian Boy.’

He put his hand on her hip and leaned in and kissed her. She smiled as they parted and so did he.

Being back in school was an adjustment for Zenek. Reading and writing papers was far different from learning and constructing computer code. The second task was much more self-contained. Occasionally his bosses at IBM had stern words for him or pressured him to work faster but at least he always knew where he stood or how much work he had left to do over what kind of time period. With his new program he had assignments with deadlines but he couldn’t tell what good they were for. Most of his professors weren’t terribly inspiring. Nearly none of them ever mentioned distributed systems or big picture issues at all. The majority of his readings and assignments focused on the existing agencies, mechanisms and technologies for environmental preservation. Some of these were interesting but they were the exception rather than the rule.

He also found his classmates to be far less idealistic than he was. Their goals and corresponding perspectives were generally to work for oil and gas companies or government agencies in their sustainability departments. These were secure, well-paying jobs but not likely to precipitate widespread social change the way Zenek wanted to.

With this in his mental backdrop, Zenek was especially eager to see Annie and Ali the following Saturday. They went to the playground at the meadows again and got ice cream afterwards. From there they went out for Indian food for dinner. Zenek was in heaven watching Ali tear into naan and devour chicken tikka marsala. This and her enthusiasm for nearly everything took him out of his own head. The child’s zest for life made him better appreciate of the world around him – the mild fall day and deep green flora outside, the pleasant company and restaurant staff inside...

After dinner they all went back to Annie’s flat and read books and Ali went to sleep. This time Zenek decided it was okay to spend the night. He and Annie went quickly from the couch to the bedroom after Ali had gone to sleep.

The sex was good. Zenek and Annie had a strong physical connection and they both came easily. What was even more satisfying was the pillow talk afterwards. Zenek learned details about Annie’s life. She’d grown up without a very active father, not unlike Ali’s situation. Her father and mother split up when Annie was two and she had few memories of him from early life. He was an oil rig worker for British Petroleum and his contracts started taking him further and further abroad or so he gave as the reason to Annie for his absence in her life. Annie more so chalked up her dad’s truancy to character flaws and her mother. She thought her mother hadn’t done enough to encourage her dad to stay around. The general tone of Annie’s story was demure if not tragic. This made her all-the-more remarkable to Zenek. How someone of her circumstances was such an enthusiastic and upbeat mother amazed him. If he’d been through what Annie had he’d find it very hard to be optimistic.

Zenek slept well that night but work up feeling weary. He worried he couldn’t benefit Annie and Ali’s situation as student very significantly. Annie should be with someone with a well-paying job not someone living off loans. How was he supposed to help anyone with growing debt and a spotty knowledge of sustainability, a money-eschewing discipline in the first place.

He got up that morning and kissed Annie goodbye before Ali woke up. If he couldn’t help them with money, the least he could do was not create confusion or jealously within Ali over his relationship with her mom.

Zenek’s decision to leave school was more gradual than sudden. It was mostly because of problems with the program that he decided to drop out. He just didn’t feel any intellectual or moral connection with his classmates, professors or the material. If he was going to be a disinterested automaton in his chosen field he might as well go back into programming. At least with programming he was earning money instead of spending money.

He tried not to look too far into the future as he got closer and closer to withdrawing from school. One possible flaw in his thinking was that it could be short sighted. He thought maybe sustainability would be more satisfying in the long run and if so, he should stick with it. But this was pure speculation. Compared to the fact that he was decidedly unhappy in the present, that possibility was a much lower quality of input, if not completely admissible. His dad and stepmom questioned whether he wasn’t making this decision for Annie’s sake and he dismissed them immediately. Sure he wanted to help with Ali and Annie’s standard of living but this was a corollary not a cause of his changing paths. He applied to work at small Edinburgh software developer specializing in financial products and was quickly hired.

All this happened during Zenek first winter in Scotland. Winter wasn’t as cold as it was in Toronto but the sun only came up at 8:30 each morning and went down by 16:00 each afternoon. It was a physically dark time but emotionally bright one for Zenek. He liked his new job and things were developing quickly between Annie and him. He’d moved into Annie’s flat on Whitehaven and found the chores of childcare pleasantly exhausting. Ali’s curiousity and energy were perpetually engaging. His favourite part about living with the young family was being woken up each morning by an excited child rather than a joyless alarm clock. It really changed the perspective he started the day with.

Annie’s personality unfolded further and further, which delighted him as well. With his help around the house she was less tired and quick to frustrate. With his income contribution she was able to take a day off of temping a week and devote it to her photography. This practice made her more mentally lively and passionate in all areas of her life. Early in the spring of that year Zenek decided he’d seen enough, that Annie and Ali were who he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. He went to a jeweler’s on the Golden Mile and bought a modest engagement ring. Then, on a night Ali was spending at her grandmother’s, he made Annie dinner and proposed.

Annie covered her mouth and began to cry when she saw the ring. She’d never imagined such a small box could carry such happiness. She loved Zenek deeply and now knew how much he loved her back. Long swathes of her life unfurrowed in her mind. She remembered her disappointment at never seeing her dad as a kid. She remembered the way the other kids teased her she was a bastard and how inferior and alone this made her feel. She remembered her determination as a teenager to find love – or at least sex – to fill the void left by her dad. She remembered hers and Ryan’s relationship ending and though mostly happy about it, the dread that she might not ever meet anyone else and die alone…

She began to shake as Zenek walked around the table and hugged her. He couldn’t see inside Annie’s mind but he could feel her body exorcizing some demon or long-seated negativity. He’d never felt so connected to anyone and he started to cry too. He hadn’t intentionally sacrificed his dream of having a wider impact on the world for Annie but even if he had, he was now having a stronger impact on someone else’s life than he could have ever imagined having anywhere anyway. The coincidence of this made him think there may in fact be a higher power at work in the world.

But mostly what he felt was gratitude. He felt he was finally somewhere he belonged and with the people he belonged with. He fell to his knees, pressed his forehead to Annie’s and kissed her tear-streaked eyes, cheeks and mouth.

#short story #amwriitng #literary fiction

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