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shinkun · 4 years

Text

bloom: part 1/2 (18+)

aizawa shouta | eraserhead x student!reader

[ read part 2 here ]

word count: 3.4k

genre: alpha/omega, omegaverse, m/f, afab reader, student/teacher, smut with little plot

A late-blooming student finds herself trapped in the school, yearning for someone to ease her unfamiliar, painful urges.

warnings: 18+, smut, oral, fingering, cunnilingus

notes: Hello, just as a warning, this is my first time in many years posting any written work so I'm pretty rusty and self-conscious about it (please be gentle!) Also - my first time doing any form of a/b/o, so I hope it's okay!

Aizawa just released something feral in me that made me want to write a lengthy, lusty fiction about him.

This is Part 1 of 2 of this fiction. I wanted to see if there was any reception or interest in this piece before sharing the final part.

All characters are 18+. Reader is a mature student presumably finishing her final semester of school, or attending an extra year.

Anyway, please enjoy!

- - - - -

Aizawa gave a hefty groan, pinching the skin on the bridge of his nose. A nagging stress entered the back of his mind as he proceeded to the opposite side of the door.

When your classmate had cornered him in his office earlier, wailing about how “Y/N doesn’t want to come out! She said she feels too sick to go to practice!” He already knew what he was in for.

“Alright, I’ll go see what's wrong…” Aizawa nonchalantly replied, waving the boy away. “Go outside and start without her.” He commanded, not letting him get another word in. The student gave a compliant but nervous nod before exiting the room.

The professor let out a sigh, perking his ear up to the door. He hesitantly raised his knuckles up to the surface, knocking on it with little force, but enough that it could be heard from the other side. He held his breath for a moment. A sweet, tantalizing scent crept from beneath the barrier between him and his student.

“Don’t come in!!” Shouted a voice laced with panic in reply to the knock.

“Don’t worry, it’s me.” Aizawa said, lowering his palm to the handle of the locker room. He didn’t need to speak his name for you to know. He was patient, letting you bask in the silence for a moment. The scent emitting from the room made a couple beads of sweat roll down the back of his neck, but he was able to shake it off.

“I can’t let you.. see me like this…” Your tone was shaky and barely audible, but he’d caught it.

“I can help you.” He persisted to push the handle downward.

The bond you’d grown with your teacher in your three years at UA was strong and trusting. You knew that any advice he was willing to offer you would be right. He was always right. You were happy to have a mentor so willing to sacrifice his time and listen to you when you needed it, and this was no exception.

Aizawa delicately pushed the door open, only an inch into it before the odor was able to escape, already knocking him back; angelic, rosey scents filling his nostrils. Saliva pooled underneath the back of his tongue as he took the fragrance in. He shut his eyes and let out another soft huff before propping the door open with one foot. He could sense your panic rising as he shuffled forward.

“...I promise you’ll be okay.” He assured you, his hand curling around the frame. He continued to stay cautious and non-threatening, making sure you had enough time to prepare for his entry.

“I don’t want you to see me so..” you hesitated, attempting to stiffen a cry building up in your throat, “..weak.” The word rolled off your tongue like it was filth.

Aizawa entered the room, seemingly unphased by the aura of hormones that was now engulfing him. He gently let the door slide closed behind him, carefully locking it for any students that dared to interrupt them. A small but caring smirk graced his face as he looked before him.

He saw you curled up in the back corner of the changeroom, sitting on a bench with your knees tucked into your chest. You held the bunched up top to your gym uniform, hugging it to the flushed skin of your torso for safety, your chest covered only by a tightly binding sports bra. You sunk your head down, trying not to make eye contact with the teacher as he proceeded forward. He gingerly perched himself on the bench next to you, leaving a comfortable amount of space, before bending forward to look at you.

“Hey..” His hair curtained around his face as he leaned forward, softly cupping the opposite side of your face in his hand. He pulled your head over to look at him. The unexpected touch made you squirm, squeezing your eyes closed, but you refused to fight his caress. “You’re the strongest person I know.” His thumb massaged your cheek up and down. Your bottom lip quivered, still attempting to fight the surge of emotions that were coursing through you as you finally met his gaze. Your eyes brimming with tears, making your vision blurry, as you continued to choke them back. It was simple, but his words meant a lot.

You and him both knew that you had a complicated relationship with your femininity. You saw it as a burden, getting in the way from people taking you seriously. You blocked it out in any way you could, to reflect a more intimidating, headstrong persona. Focusing on close-combat studies and fighting techniques, convincing the staff to let you wear the boy’s uniform, attending all the extra curricular sporting events - the reason you were even here on a weekend to begin with. It wasn’t just a means of coming off as adrogynous though, you genuinely enjoyed these things.

“How can I be strong if I’m...” You looked away, afraid that admitting you were an Omega out loud would somehow make it worse. You didn’t want to come to terms with it.

“...C’mere kid.” He removed his hand from your face while straightening up, leaning his back against the wall behind him. His arm raised, placing it on your shoulder to pull you into his chest for a gentle embrace.

You’d been close to Aizawa before, but never anything like this. Playful jabs here and there, sarcastic shoves in the hallway, there was even that time he had to step in to use his binding cloth to stop you from beating on some punk that made fun of your quirk - but this tender feeling he was sharing was a whole new territory.

You took it in, allowing some of the pent up tears to escape from your eyes. A quiet sob forced itself out of your throat, your body vibrating with each cry. Aizawa rubbed your back, slowly, carefully, letting you bask in the feelings. The fear that you had reverberated throughout the room was beginning to subside, and he could tell. You laid against the man in silence for a moment, the heavy thumping of his heart lulling your anxieties. You breathed in gradually, putting your sniveling to rest, but as you did, you noticed something off.

A flush of red emanated from your face as your nose raised slightly gravitating toward Aizawa’s head. A waft of strong musk filled your senses. It was savory, and heavy, and…“Hnghh.” A breathy sigh escaped your mouth as your hand gripped the fabric of the teacher’s shirt. You had little control over your next movement, stretching forward to nuzzle your face against his neck, taking in as much of the aroma as you could. Now that you’d let your defenses down, Aizawa's dominant atmosphere was beginning to encapsulate you.

“Whoa there.” He let out a chuckle but continued to let you explore, eventually expecting this kind of reaction to his presence. He gracefully shifted his hand, placing it above your hip, both to keep you stable as you moved, and to give him the pleasure of being able to embrace the smooth, supple flesh.

“I’m...sorry..” You said, beginning to retreat from him as the realisation of what you were doing began to sink in. “Oh, oh no.. I’m sorry..!” Your heart fluttered as you pulled back to your safe spot on the bench.

He gave his head a shake and continued to give you your space. “No need to be sorry.” He assured you, scratching the back of his head. His voice was tender and dreamy to your ears, it sent goosebumps down your arms. Suddenly sitting in a lecture just to listen to your teacher’s dark, gritty voice rant about hero politics sounded appealing. Admittedly this brief embrace made the resistance to act on his urges much harder than before, but he persisted.

Suddenly you let out an aching gasp. You pulled your body toward yourself, your arm reaching around your abdomen as you felt that intense pressure building up inside your gut again, tinges of pain and aching threatening your core. You’d felt this earlier when you had the room to yourself. It made you hot, your breath beginning to pick up as your body reeled in a feverish sweat. You didn’t want him to see you like this and now that your guard was down, it was taking control.

“Hurt…. it hu..rts..” You managed to spit out. Shouta cocked his head to the side.

“Is this your first time..?” He planted his hand on your back once more, making sure you knew his company was welcoming. All you could do was let out a quick nod. You squeezed your legs together, feeling an intense heat present itself in your center, your gasps becoming more hefty and impossible to contain.

“Wow, a late bloomer.” Aizawa strategically pondered for a moment, “Well, I should go inform Recovery Girl of how you’r-”

“..No!” You cut him off before he could finish, a tremble in your voice. “Please, can you...” Embarrassment took over causing your speech to trail off, your arm shakely reaching out and clenching around the sleeve beside his hand. Your desires were continuing to take hold and Aizawa’s scent was becoming more and more irresistible as time went on, “..can you help me?”

The edge of his mouth curled up into a smile, disguising itself behind his shield of dark locks. Just as he’d expected.

Now, this wasn’t his first time dealing with a student in heat. Although the population of Omegas was on the lower side, there had been a few students in his years of teaching that had to get medicated and sent home for a few days to deal with their inflamed, unpredictable hormones. And professors, especially Alpha professors, were instructed on the responsibility of containing those natural urges and how to offer students help when they were in their most vulnerable state.

He did genuinely want to help. Seeing your pleas to get rid of this nasty heat made his heart ache and he didn’t want to deny you the option for any outside aid, but he knew you would place trust in him and he was willing to offer it.

Without answering Aizawa leaned forward. He curled his other hand up behind your head, letting his fingers trail through your hair to embrace your scalp. Immediately a shiver fell down your spine as he bent over you; first planting a kiss on your forehead, then he trailed downward, peppering a couple kisses on your tear-stained cheek. The weight of your head cradled into his hand as he continued, his mouth trailing down the length of your neck, his tongue messaging down the length of your skin. Your breathing increased as you let out a cute whimper, your core pulsated. He then paused just above your shoulder, letting in a deep inhale. Your scent was enchanting, sweet, and made his head spin. He dared to let his teeth graze that special spot, smirked, and then placed one final peck there before abruptly pushing his mouth against yours. You immediately felt a rush of heat rise into your stomach as his lips collided with yours. They were so soft and experienced, but juxtaposed by the rough facial hair that scraped against your chin.

Even though it was you who’d requested it, you were having a tough time wrapping your head around the order of events that lead you here. Finding it difficult to reciprocate the kiss, he began to ease his tongue inside your mouth. Your eyebrows raised, but eyes remaining sealed shut as the twitching muscle explored your mouth, the roughness of his flesh against yours causing you to feel slick drip between your thighs.

You pulled your mouth away releasing an overwhelmed heave, a string of saliva still leaving you connected to the man.

His eyes furrowed, a worrying expression plastered his face making sure you were okay.

“..I forgot to...breathe.” A rosy tint burned your cheeks before you both let out a small chuckle that eased the tension. He then placed his forehead against yours.

“Keep going..?” At this point he was probably too far gone but he thought he’d at least give you the false sense of reassurance.

Despite the flustering heat that Aizawa stirred into you from his kisses, the pain in your curve was urging on to the point of becoming unbearable. Your hands trembled but quickly grabbed his chest to pull him back into the embrace. He took this as a ‘yes’ and fell back into the deep kiss, proceeding to cup his hand around your left breast. He kneaded the bosom in his hand before trailing his mouth down your neck once again, this time pulling and suckling at the skin, leaving playful little bites - but not enough to bruise. His hands trailed down to the edge of your bra. You bit down on your lip as he yanked it upward and over your head.

A nearly inaudible “Wow..” escaped from his mouth as he leaned back to take your figure in, not sure if it was meant for your ears to hear. Your defenseless upper half was paler than usual and coated with a perspiring sheen due to your sickly urges.

“Don’t stare..” You grumbled, refusing to meet his eyes as his hand regained its place against your chest. He was shocked you were able to contain them within the bounds of a thin fabriced sports bra all the time, let alone while they were aching and swelling from your heat. You did a very good job of keeping it that way.

He smirked once more before lowering his head, taking the erect pink bud between his lips, lapping his tongue over it again and again. You shuddered as he sucked it into his mouth, his opposite hand fondling the other. But no matter how much he kissed and caressed your shivering body, it wasn’t satisfying the heavy hunger sweltering in the pits of your core. “Please..” You whined above his head, frustratingly clenching your fingers into your palms, “Mister Aizawa, please...I can’t wait anymore.”

Aizawa pulled his mouth away, nuzzling his face between your chest for just a moment before raising back up.

“Soon.” He simply but firmly stated, pulling his binding cloth above his head and tossing it to the floor, making sure it wouldn’t get in the way.

He then bent down, wrapping his arm around the calves of your legs and pulling them onto the wide bench. He moved his own leg over the opposite side of the bench so that it was now in between him.

“Now,” he looked as you impatiently quivered, trailing his intense stare down your body, “What’s the damage?” You let out an offended huff at his wording, but held your complaints in. You figured any sort of noncompliance would lead you to a one-way trip to the medic.

Shouta really didn’t need to ask, but your fluster enticed him even more. The bottoms of your navy gym uniform had a dark patch stained through them long before the moment he’d entered, by this point it had traveled down your legs.

“Looks like we’re gonna have to find you another pair of those, huh?” He reached forward tracing his hands around the edges of the waistband before pulling the sweats down. You shifted as it tickled your sides. He then tossed them to the floor alongside his equipment.

Your hands reached up to cover your face as his gaze pierced through you. No matter how desperate you were to get some relief, you still couldn’t get past the vulnerability of being sprawled out in front of him like this, let alone, someone actually known for having a deeply intimidating stare.

He tenderly pulled one of your hands away, taking it in his own. This was the first time you’d really noticed how big his were in comparison, cupping around your delicate digits. He closed his eyes, leaving a few tender kisses inside your palm before deeply inhaling the aroma radiating from your wrist. He let it go and looked back, his palms now resting on your thighs, pushing them apart with a surprising amount of ease. You aligned yourself on the bench, propping your back against the wall.

Aizawa bowed over your lower half, leaning into the heat pulsating between your legs. He hadn’t even touched you before your heart began to race, your breath trailing close behind. Your anticipation for him made his heart melt but he couldn’t resist dragging this out for as long as he could. He wanted to make your first heat special for you - memorable - even.

It wasn’t long before Aizawa’s mouth was trailing up the length of your leg. The closer he got, the more unbearably hard it was to not just let his primal instincts take over and ravage your pretty, little entrance with his aching cock. No, Aizawa. He cursed at himself for even thinking that.

Shouta’s tongue danced up your thigh before hitting the edge of your drenched panties. He left soft little nips with his teeth in your thigh, leaving you breathless, before kissing the fabric. He nudged his nose against the surface of it, prodding your sensitive core before letting his tongue fall down its length, intentionally heaving his hot, eager breath against you. You let out a loud gasp that left you clutching your mouth. He smiled once more before taking the edges of the fabric between his fingers and pulling them down, finally revealing your throbbing, leaking pussy.

“Oh, sweetheart…” He sighed into you, sharing a few more kisses before sliding his tongue through those tender, pink folds. You cocked your head back gently scooching your hips towards him, your humiliation suddenly masked by your intense lust for the man.

Aizawa took in all the senses surrounding him. The delightful squeaks you made as he trailed his muscle along your slit, the delicious distinctly omega flavours that drenched his mouth, the way you convulsed and your knees buckled every time he slid his lips or nose against your sensitive, budding clit. He then pulled your legs over his shoulders, giving him more leverage to dive into you.

You reached your hand out as your gasps deepened, he looked up from you inquisitively before reaching his out in return. You laced your fingers between his, yearning for that simple grasp. You held on to it as a form of security, giving soft squeezes to the man every time it was too intense, or a loving stroke of your thumb against his skin when it was just right.

He narrowed his focus back on you, slowly bringing his other hand to your slit. While his tongue massaged your pulsating pearl, he sank two fingers deep inside your entrance. Unsurprisingly your hole was ready and more than willing to accept them. The amount of slick you’d produced was evident enough. You bit down on your lip and let out a whimper as he now began pumping you with his fingers alongside his mouth, your natural lubricant gliding down his hand.

Earlier you’d tried doing the same, attempting to satisfy your intense craving with masturbation alone, but it was never enough. Nothing felt like enough. But Aizawa’s fingers reached parts that you couldn’t, curling and prodding that sensitive area, hiding toward your stomach.

“God..” Your eyes rolled back as you bucked yourself against him, but you still yearned for more. “S...Sensei..” He could see you getting close, your little hand clenching in his own as he rhythmically persisted, your breaths more shaky and sporadic. “Shou..ta..!!” He loved the way his name rolled off your tongue, his cock twitching against his leg from the sound of it. He pulled his hand back and plunged his long fingers even harder and more vigorously, this time including a third. You let out a little shriek while he basically drowned amongst your tiny folds, his fingers driving into you at a steady cadence. He felt as your plush, sensitive walls tightened around his dexterous touch, quivering as you climaxed before him.

You gulped hard trying to let your mind catch up to your body, releasing a steady pant.

“That was great, kitten.” He gave your thigh one last kiss before raising up. “...You did so well.”

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bokunosimpfiction · 3 years

Text

Kidnapped Yandere!Heisenberg x Reader Pt.5

Summary: You feel emotions other than rage and sarcasm oh my god

A/N: The reason I took a break from this series was because I had no idea where to take it from that cliff hanger, and I felt that character development needed to be done before we dive head first into the plot. This is part of that, but keep in mind it’s not filler like Chapter 2 became. I think it’s funny that this was SUPPOSED TO BE A FUCKING ONE SHOT BUT APPARENTLY FUCKING NOT. I’ll be posting another chapter for this series soon. Also feel free to send me asks about this series. I’ve been getting comments on my ao3 that are a) genius b)hilarious and c)heartwarming. Talk to me. Please! Ask and anon should be open right now let me know if they aren’t!

Masterlist link for previous parts:

Link to this chapter on AO3:

Taglist: @localdepressedvampire and one person recieving updates via email

The fresh cold late-autumn air made your lungs sting. And the layers of clothes didn’t help fight the chill you didn’t know you were facing. Has it been that long since you’ve been outside, to see the sun? You stick your arms in your armpits under your outercoat. Well, Heisenberg’s spare trench coat. It was much too big, the cuffs of the sleeves going well past your fingertips and the bottom half an inch from the ground.

You were so used to the fluorescent lighting and the warm dry air of the factory, that your body went into some type of culture shock. It felt like an allergic reaction to the outside world itself. Adjusting to it once you escaped would be hard.

“You’ve clearly become less fit since you started living with me,” Karl says in a matter-of-fact tone. You’d be insulted if you didn’t hear him say weird stuff about the other lords or the occasional brain-washed villager who brought up offerings. One had sewed you a wool and fox-fur dress and brought it up in September, in preparation for the winter. He’d thought it dumb at the time, but it protected you from the November chill better than anything you’ve ever worn.

Did they think you were a woman? Whether they were right or wrong, it didn’t change the fact that it was comfortable, warm, and made you feel better than the clothes you’d been wearing before in the factory or even before. You felt safe.

“Of course, I have, I’ve been sitting on my ass,” you retort.

“Still see that sass is intact.”

“It’s something that’ll never leave me.”

“You’d make a terrible house-spouse.”

“That’s the point,” you sigh hard, and you can see the cold air in front of your face, “I had a whole ass college degree before I came here and got my ass kidnapped.”

Karl whips around and looks at you, tilting his head down to peer at you from above his glasses. “You have a college degree?”

“Why are you surprised? Did you think I was that stupid?” Even if the question is sarcastic and witty, you felt a pang of hurt reverberate in your heart. Did he really think you were that stupid? Apparently so.

“I have two masters. One in aerospace engineering and one in mechanical engineering. Double majored in those fields for my bachelors at Oxford on a full-ride scholarship of robotic engineering.”

His mouth drops open. “And I didn’t know about this because?”

“It never came up.”

He pinches his nose, “you could have been helping me this whole time in the shop, and I let you sit on your ass and play care-taker.”

“More like forced me.” At this point, you’ve stopped walking, and you’d be able to see the manor of Benviento if it weren’t for the fog.

“Besides the point.” He looks stressed. His eyebrows are furrowed, a deep frown is on his face and his whole disposition makes him look genuinely conflicted and upset. “Let’s just go.” He gestures for you to follow him and stomps up the path.

You follow him, trying not to slip in the mud. Converse doesn’t have great traction, you realized. Maybe you should have worn hiking boots. “Listen, dirty Dr. Doofenschmirtz-“

“I don’t want to listen to your dumb nick-names right now.”

You stop again, and your fists ball up at your side around the fabric of the sleeves of his coat. Your coat. The coat you’re wearing.

“Why the hell are you so mad at me!” It’s not a question. It’s an exclamation of emotion. For some reason, it hurts. Even if you despised him, hated him with all your being, having someone love you unconditionally felt nice. He was toxic at best, sociopathic at worst, and yet he loved you so strongly it tore the both of you so part. To feel that admiration has gone missing, even if for a second, sent you reeling. You can’t explain why you softened towards him.

“I’m not.” He keeps walking before he realized you stopped. He turned around to look at you. “I’m not mad at you. I’m just…” He looks for the words. He’d never been good at expressing himself, you realized. Better through actions than words. But you didn’t want him to act on whatever he was feeling.

You wait in silence, eye-watering, trying not to cry.

He sees and rushes over to you. His left arm wraps around you and his right hand gently grabs your chin, his index finger underneath to lift your chin up to look at him. “Don’t cry, you know I hate it when you cry.”

You struggle to take a deep breath, choke on it, and the world feels so much more dangerous. A million malicious eyes gazing into your soul, whispers of panic fill your brain, and flashing thoughts of running right now, of hurting him or you flash through like lightning in a foggy storm. Every damn thing feels hazy and thick and you’re choking on the lump in your throat. “I don’t want to. I don’t want you to be mad at me, I don’t want-“

“Take a deep goddamn breath.” You feel his tobacco-scented breath on your face. You can see panic flash through his eyes for a moment. You hate the smell, and it suffocates you even more. “You need to breath.”

You swallow around the lump in your throat, and your breath shakes like a wasp nest about to fall from the highest branch. “Why are you mad at me?” This time you genuinely ask. You don’t want a reason, but rather a reassurance that he isn’t at all.

His lips form into a snarl that doesn’t come out before he presses them in a tight line. As he thinks. It makes you even more nervous. “I’m not mad at you. I’m mad at the fact that I had an opportunity that went to waste.”

You look up at him. “Okay.”

He wraps his other arm around you and places his chin on your forehead. “Let me know when you’ve calmed down.”

You rest your forehead on his shoulder and breathe.

In. Out.

In. OUT.

In… out

In.

Out.

In.

… out.

“Do you feel any better?”

You wait a moment. “Yeah, I think so.” You ponder for a moment. “I think I had a lot of pent-up anxiety from everything.”

He stays quiet. “I’m sorry.”

“I know.”

He places a kiss on the crown of your head, his beard ruffling your hair. “Are you not going to forgive me?”

You take a deep breath. “I don’t know yet. It’s…” How do I phrase this? “I worked hard for this anger. This anger to love me, to know I didn’t deserve this, to be kidnapped, to have my head ready to be mounted on a stick.” You continue, “if I stop feeling angry, if I forgive you, I’m afraid I’m losing that. That’s why I tried to escape because I loved myself, I wanted better for myself.”

“Was I… Was I not providing enough for you?” His question strikes you like an arrow.

“I-“ You stumble on you’re thoughts for a moment. “It’s less of you not doing enough, but more of the rough foot we started on.” You sniffle. “When I gave up, I felt like I lost a part of myself, all that I worked for. That degree included. I felt all my efforts, all my struggles that I faced outside this goddamn village had gone to waste. That it wasn’t worth it. That I wasn’t worth it.”

You had promised yourself to keep him at arm’s length, to not give him clues to manipulate you. But you poured your heart out into his. You felt him shake and squeeze you tighter.

“Never. Ever. Feel like you aren’t worth it.” You feel something wet on your scalp. “You deserved better than each challenge that you faced, and each bit of hurt you felt along the way.” It’s his turn to choke on his words. He takes a shaky breath above you, and you can feel his heart pound faster. “You, darling, are worth everything.”

Something small inside you breaks. He’s just as human as you are, you realize. In this desperate attempt to escape, to fuel this hatred that’s worn you down, you’ve villainized a man that’s felt even more pain than you. A broken man, who thinks you’re the glue to put him back together. You shouldn’t feel any obligation to, but you do, because you’ve felt a fraction of the pain he’s felt, that he’s currently feeling, and it’s made your mind and bones ache far after the situation ended.

“And so are you, Karl.”

He unwraps his arms from around you. “Come one butter-cup, let’s go. Ugly-ass-psycho-doll is waiting for you. Says she wants you for a fitting and some tea party with her demented child, Angie.”

“Angie? Who’s she.”

“Well, you’re about to find out.”

#Heisenberg #Karl Heisenberg #Yandere Heisenberg #Yandere #Yandere x Reader #Heisenberg x Reader #Yandere Heisenberg x Reader #resident evil x reader #resident evil 8 x reader #resident evil village x reader #resident evil #resident evil 8 #resident evil village #re8

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marvelmusing · 3 years

Text

Making Time

Mobius M Mobius x Reader

Part 2

My Masterlist

“1985, huh?” You say, looking up from the briefing Mobius has just handed you.

“Yeah, maybe we’ll spot a delorian?” He jokes, making a Back to the Future reference. You smile at him, remembering when you’d first mentioned the movie. You hadn’t been at the TVA long, to your knowledge.

You’re sat in one of the cafes, explaining something about the timeline to Casey, and you make an offhand reference to the movie. To which, Casey looks even more confused. You glance at Mobius, who’s been sat next to you, watching your teaching with a smile. You offer them both a small smile, at yet another reminder that you’re from somewhere very different from the rest of them.

“Neither of you have seen it have you?” Mobius shakes his head.

“Not a lot of chances for watching movies when dealing with the timeline. Should we get the chance, I’d love to.” It’s a few days later when you give him the chance.

“Honey, I’m home.” You hear Mobius call out, which brings a smile to your face. Whilst you had your own apartment, you much preferred staying with Mobius, like you did when you first arrived at the TVA. You hear him set down a pile of papers in the kitchen, before making his way into the lounge where you’re sat waiting for him. “Hey.”

“Hi.”

“What’s all this?”

“Back to the Future. I went through my file, and managed to find a version that I watched that was uninterrupted. Then I isolated it, and copied it onto one of those cassette reel things, so that it’ll play on your mini projector.” You pause, before adding, “I probably put too much effort into this but, I thought we could have what my time considers a movie night?”

“A movie night?” Your face falls slightly, feeling embarrassed by your suggestion.

“We don’t have to-“ you start. He shrugs off his jacket and settles down next to you.

“Did I not tell you I wanted to watch it, should I get the chance?”

“Well, yeah.” He gestures to the projector.

“Let’s get this show on a roll.” You grin at him, before quickly pressing play on the projector. Mobius leans an arm on the couch and pulls you to his side. “You finally have clearance to access to your file, and you use it to watch Back to the Future?”

“What else was I supposed to do with it?” You joke.

You and Mobius head to the cubicle where you left Loki this morning. You spot him wapping against the desk with a magazine.

“Training going well?” You ask him. He leans back in his chair, attempting to look casual.

“Yeah.”

“Is that my jet ski magazine?” Mobius asks him. “Put it down. Gear up. There's been an attack. Let's go.” He hands Loki the jacket he’s been carrying. You set the briefing down on the desk, and follow Mobius. Loki trails behind you. “Put it on.” Loki shrugs the jacket on, adjusting the collar before posing.

“Nice.” You tell him with a smile.

“Good. Yeah, smart.” Mobius says distractedly. You soon reach the Timedoors, where a small group of hunters have gathered to wait. B-15 opens up the briefing.

“C-20 and her team went dark shortly after they jumped into the 1985 branch. All signs point to another ambush. We've grabbed enough temporal aura to know it's our Loki Variant. But which kind of Loki, remains unknown.”

“They're the lesser kind, to be clear.” Loki specifies. B-15 sighs,

“Let me see the back of that jacket.” Loki does a small turn, showing the group the back of his jacket, where the bright orange letters reading VARIANT stand out. Everyone is the group shares a small smile. You’re glad you don’t have to wear one of those anymore.

“Very subtle. Well done.”

“I don't want anybody out there to forget what you are.”

“Oh, your only hope of capturing a murderer?”

“No. A cosmic mistake.”

“That's enough.” Mobius interrupts.

“Lovely.” You hear Loki murmur.

“Here's the deal.” Mobius begins. “When we get out on the branch, we're not just looking for a Time Criminal. We're looking for a Loki. A variation of this guy. A type we should all be very familiar with, because the TVA has pruned a lotta these guys, almost more than any other Variant.” He skims through a few of the Loki Variants that the TVA have caught before. “And no two are alike. Slight differences in appearances, or not so slight. Different powers, although, powers generally include: shapeshifting, illusion projection, and my favourite-”

“Duplication casting.” Loki interrupts

“Illusion projection.”

“No, they're two completely different powers.”

“How?” You ask him.

“Illusion-projection involves depicting a detailed image from outside oneself, which is perceptible in the external world, whereas duplication-casting entails recreating an exact facsimile of one's own body in its present circumstance, which acts as a true holographic mirror of its molecular structure. But you already knew that.” He explains. You catch a glimpse of Mobius’s smirk before he says,

“Okay, take a breath. Noted. We're gonna break into two teams, including myself and Professor Loki.”

“Why?” A hunter stood beside you asks.

“Because whoever this Variant is, we haven't been able to find him. So let's bring in an expert.” Loki looks around at the group before adding a quiet,

“That's me.”

As the hunters prepare themselves, you hear Loki ask, “Do I get a weapon?” You laugh lightly,

“No chance.”

“Well, I'll have my magic back. Is no one concerned about that?”

“Of what?” Mobius asks.

“Me betraying you.”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“You know that we’ll just catch you again.” You tell him.

“And how's betraying us gonna get you any closer to the Time-Keepers?” Mobius adds. Loki leans forward, his attention fixed on Mobius.

“An audience with the Time-Keepers is on the table?”

“Keep that focus.” Mobius tells him. The three of you follow the hunters through the Timedoor, and out into 1985 Wisconsin. Your group makes their way through the crowd of the Renaissance fair before entering a large tent. It’s dark inside, with only a few lanterns to light your path. You watch as B-15 bends down to grasp examine a helmet left abandoned on the floor.

“So he's taking hostages now?” She says, turning to Mobius.

“The Variant's never taken a hostage before.”

“Maybe he's upping his game.”

“Or he pruned her.” One of the hunters remarks, you frown at his callousness towards his colleague.

“A Loki couldn't have gotten the jump on C-20.”

“I think you underestimate, actually...” Loki begins.

“Fan out and search for her. And hurry up, we're at three units until red line.” B-15 orders. Mobius sets a hand on your arm, and the two of you head to the exit.

“Come on.” He says to Loki.

“Wait. If you leave this tent, you'll end up like them.” Mobius stops beside Loki.

“What do you see?”

“I see a scheme, and in that scheme, I see myself.” Loki begins to ramble about an old Asgardian saying.

“Two units. He is wasting our time.” B-15 interrupts.

“Okay. Come on, Loki, make a long story short.” Mobius encourages.

“We need to look for C-20.”

“That's exactly what the Variant wants you to do. It's a trap. He's waiting for you outside this tent.”

“Should I secure the reset charges?”

“No. He wants me. I'm the key to his plan. He knows that I'm stronger. And he rightly believes that together we can overthrow and rule the TVA. But that's not what I want. I have a new purpose. I'm a servant of the Sacred Timeline. And knowing what I now know about his tactics, I can deliver you the Variant, but I need assurances.” He says, looking to Mobius. You glance up at Mobius, frowning slightly. Surely he isn’t believing what Loki’s saying? His eyes catch yours and there’s a small twinkle in them. You hide your smile. Loki circles around Mobius.

“Yeah?” Mobius offers.

“Assurances that I won't be completely disintegrated the moment the job has been done.”

“Right.” Loki leans forward, before whispering,

“We'll need to speak to the Time-Keepers at once. They're in graver danger than we realized.”

“He's lying. Just playing games. There's no one out there.” Mobius calls out to the group.

“Reset the timeline.” B-15 orders.

“You had me for a second. My ears are sharp too.” He points at Loki’s chest. You follow Mobius out of the tent.

“Well that went well.” You remark, hearing Mobius sigh. He runs his hand over his face.

You’re tucking into your lunch when you spot Mobius. He picks out a drink and a salad before making his way over to you. You give him a small smile,

“Hi.”

“Hey.”

“How did it go with Renslayer?” He sighs, leaning his head back, before getting comfortable in his seat.

“Well, our Loki hasn’t been deleted yet.”

“That’s good then?” You offer. He sighs,

“Yeah. Though he’s getting more and more talkative.”

“You did say he loves to talk. Where is he now?”

“I’ve left him with the archives, hopefully he’ll be reading for the next few days. Or at least long enough for me to finish lunch.” He begins to eat his salad. Just then, Loki scampers in looking like a manic puppy.

“I found something.” Mobius shakes his head, keeping his attention on his lunch,

“No, I said don’t bother me until you've read all the files.”

“I have.”

“Every file?”

“Yes.”

“Pertaining to the Variant?”

“The answer isn't in the files, it's on the timeline. He's hiding in apocalypses.”

“Which apocalypse?” You ask.

“Any time in history? There's, like, a million of 'em.” Mobius adds.

“Ragnarok. Are you familiar?”

“Yes. The destruction of Asgard and most of its people. I'm sorry.” Loki pauses looking down.

“Yes, very sad.” He immediately perks up again. “Anyway, it got me thinking. Nexus events happen when someone does something they're not supposed to do, right?”

“Well, it's a little more complicated, but, yeah.”

“Great. And then that thing they're not supposed to do, cascades into a whole range of other things that aren't supposed to happen.”

“And so on and so forth, until eventually, a new timeline branches. Yes?”

“Chaotic alterations of a predetermined outcome.”

“Exactly. So, let's just say...” He picks up the salad bowl from in front of Mobius.

“Mm-hm. What are you doing?”

“...your salad is Asgard in this scenario.” Loki continues.

“It's not Asgard, that's my lunch.” Mobius complains, the pouting clear in his voice. You lean forward, a hand on your chin to hide the smile at Mobius’s reaction.

“It's a metaphor. Just hang in there.”

“I want that salad.”

“And I could go down to Asgard before Ragnarok causes its complete destruction and I could do anything I wanted. I could, let's say, push the Hulk off the Rainbow Bridge.” He picks up a salt shaker and puts a large sprinkling of salt across Mobius’s salad.

“There he goes.” You say, feeling rather invested in this metaphor.

“The salt's Hulk?” Mobius asks, clearly not as enthusiastic as you.

“And I could also... Set fire to the palace.” He picks up a pepper pot and shakes the pepper across the salad.

“No, just stop. Don't set fire to the palace.”

“Okay? I can do whatever I want to do, and it would never matter. It wouldn't go against the dictates of the timeline because...” He sets down the shakers after nearly emptying them both. He heads to the table behind you. “Excuse me?”

“Oh, God!” Mobius sighs.

“You!” Recognising the voice you look up to see Casey looking very confused.

“Nice to see you. I just need this for a second. Thanks.” Loki picks up Casey’s carton of juice, before sitting back down at your table. “Because the apocalypse is coming. Ragnarok, Surtur will destroy Asgard no matter what I do.”

“No, don't do...” Mobius sighs as Loki empties the carton over the remains of the salad.

“There's the apocalypse.” You say with a sigh, offering Mobius your bag of chips.

“That's the apocalypse?” He asks, taking a handful of chips from you with a smile.

“Ragnarok obliterates the salt. Ragnarok. There it is.” Loki gestures to the ruined salad with a proud smile.

“What am I lookin' at?”

“Okay, it was a clumsy metaphor. But you see what I mean. It doesn't matter. It could be any apocalypse. It could be a tidal wave. It could be a meteor. It could be a volcano, a supernova. If everything and everyone around you is destined for imminent destruction, then nothing that I say or do will matter, because the timeline's not gonna branch. Hence, the Variant could be hiding in the apocalypse and do whatever he wants, and we wouldn't know!”

“Not bad.” You offer.

“Take me to a real apocalypse, to Ragnarok, I'll show you.” Mobius chuckles,

“Yeah. So you can run away back to your homeland? No.”

“No, I'm not going home. We can go anywhere.”

“I'm not taking you for a stroll along the promenade, much less an apocalypse.”

“Oh, Mobius, come on! What could possibly go wrong? We gotta properly test this theory.”

“Well, here's a fun theory. You lure me out into the field, and stab me in the back. And that's a theory I don't wanna test.”

“I'd never stab anyone in the back. That's such a boring form of betrayal.” He most definitely would stab someone in the back.

“Loki, I've studied almost every moment of your entire life. You've literally stabbed people in the back, like 50 times.”

“Well, I'd never do it again, because it got old.” You both laugh at this. Mobius looks at you, and you shrug.

“Might as well try it?” You offer. Mobius nods,

“Okay.”

“Okay, look, you don't trust me, you can trust one thing. I love to be right.” Loki adds. That certainly isn’t a lie.

Tagslist: @n0obmaster69 @mackycat11 @wibblywobblyjeremybearimy @boriqs @morganwilliams @greeneyedblondie44

If you’d like to be tagged just ask!!

#mobius m mobius x reader #mobius x reader #agent mobius #mobius #mobius m mobius #mobius loki #loki 2021 #tva loki #time variance authority #marvel au #marvel x reader

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obx-adventures · 4 years

Text

The Fall

Summary: Grace just moved from Figure Eight to the Cut. She never expected to run into her old friend, Kiara, and discover she lives next door to JJ Maybank.

Catch up here: Ch 1, Ch 2, Ch 3

——

Chapter 4

“Dude, what the hell just happened?” John B asks when he and Pope find JJ still rooted to the spot where Grace left him. JJ has been trying to decide whether or not to follow her. He knows she’ll be pissed but he also knows that she shouldn’t be walking home alone when she’s as drunk as she is.

“Fuck it. I’ll see you guys tomorrow.” JJ runs in the direction that Grace left as Pope and John B call out for him.

JJ finds Grace sitting on a makeshift flower box about 10 minutes later. She had stopped walking before getting to their block, JJ’s voice echoing in her head. At the sound of his footsteps, she jumps and tries to gather her stuff to run.

“Whoa whoa whoa, it’s just me.” Grace sags in relief when she recognizes JJ’s voice. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I know you told me not to follow you but –”

He was cut off by Grace throwing herself into him and wrapping her arms around his torso. He follows her lead and holds her tightly as she starts to cry.

“I’m so sorry, JJ.” He shushes her as he rubs her back. “No, I was so horrible to you.”

“Don’t worry about it. I bring that out in people.” Grace chuckles a little into his chest and he closes his eyes in relief. “But you got to tell me what that was all about, sweetheart. I’ve been worried about you since I picked you up from work and then that thing you said about being no one’s responsibility. What happened?”

“JJ… can we talk about this tomorrow?” JJ pulls back a little to look at her face and can see how exhausted she looks. He’s seen the same look in the mirror after bad days with his dad. She’s holding on by a thread.

“Sure, sweetheart. Come on, I’ll walk you home.”

“No!” JJ’s stunned by her emphatic answer. “I can’t go home.”

“Your mom probably isn’t awake, you won’t get in trouble.” JJ forgot this is the first time that Grace has been drunk. But from what he saw yesterday, he doubts Amanda Porter will be aware enough to realize her daughter is just as drunk as her.

“It’s not that. I just… please. Please can we go somewhere else?” Now JJ understands this is a whole different issue. He’s pretty sure it has something to do with her dad but decides not to push it.

“Well we’re pretty far from the Chateau already, do you think you can walk for another 30 minutes?”

“No…” Grace chews on her lip and sways a little. JJ is positive he’s never seen someone so cute. He places his hands on her shoulders to steady her, trying to remember that she needs a friend right now, not a guy that can only think about how adorable she looks.

“Then your house it is.”

“What about yours?” JJ’s eyes widen in surprise at Grace’s suggestion.

“You would rather face my abusive, alcoholic father than your sleeping mom?”

“JJ…”

“What if I stayed with you and ran interference so you don’t see her?” Grace freezes up at the suggestion and can’t help thinking about how she fell asleep with his hand stroking her cheek. She giggles at the thought and her cheeks flush in embarrassment.

“Yea, I guess that would be ok.” She continues to giggle as she turns away from him to walk home.

“What’s so funny?” JJ caught the pink tinge in her cheeks before she turned around and is desperate to know what caused it.

Grace decided not to answer as she stumbled ahead of him. After almost tripping a few more times, JJ steps in front of her and crouches a bit so she can jump on his back. When she hesitates for a second, he looks back at her and winks. She giggles again and awkwardly jumps up for a piggy back ride.

When they get to her house, she tries to unlock her door but can’t steady herself enough to get the key in the lock. JJ takes over and leads her inside. Despite being drunk, her first instinct is to check on her mom.

Grace finds Amanda passed out with another empty bottle of alcohol next to her. JJ waits outside her mom’s room, watching her closely. As Grace’s knees buckle and a sob escapes her, JJ swoops in to pick her up and carry her to her room. He sits on her bed and holds her against his chest, rocking slowly and running his fingers through her hair.

“What happened, sweetheart?” he asks after she finally settles down.

“She lied to me for my whole life. They both did. He finally told me the truth today. But he doesn’t want me. And she’s a mess. And I feel so fucking alone.”

“What did they lie about?”

“He’s not... he’s... not... my...” Grace tries time to calm her sobs enough to talk but JJ understands. He soothes her and tells her she doesn’t need to say anything else.

“I’m so sorry, Grace.” He can’t imagine how much it hurt her to find out Paul isn’t her real father. For a moment, he isn’t sure what else to say but then he remembers their conversation in the kitchen the night before. “I know it feels like it but you aren’t alone. Remember? We can take care of each other. Ok?”

Grace gives him a watery smile and nods a little at him. She reaches her hand out and brushes his hair off his forehead. Instead of pulling her hand back, she leaves it on his cheek and is surprised when he leans into it. They stay like that for what feels like an eternity, just staring into each other’s eyes.

JJ’s phone beeps, causing them both to jump a little. Grace awkwardly moves off his lap and runs into the bathroom to clean herself up. After washing her face and brushing her teeth, she decides she can’t put off going back into her room. When she does, she finds him in the same spot as before.

“Hi...” Grace isn’t sure what else to say after whatever it was that just happened between them.

“Uh, Kie was just checking to make sure you’re ok...” Grace giggles at JJ’s awkwardness. At least she isn’t the only one thrown off kilter. “Uh, we should... umm, we should get some sleep.”

Grace nods at JJ but doesn’t move from her spot leaning against the door. She’s trying to decide what to do next. She’s never been a risk taker but she’s also never felt this way about someone. As if her body is acting on it’s own accord, she moves to stand in front of JJ. He looks perplexed and nervous, two words Grace never thought she would associate with him. She gently runs one hand through his hair and places the other on his opposite cheek.

“What are you doing?” JJ’s voice is barely a whisper.

“Something I’ve wanted to do for the past 3 weeks...”

JJ stares into Grace’s eyes as he reaches up to move her hands away from his face and hair.

“Grace, you’re drunk... I think we should just lay down and get some sleep.” He releases her hands and fights to ignore the pain and embarrassment written all over her face as he stands up to walk past her.

When he gets to the bathroom, he curses himself as he splashes cold water on his face. What the hell was that? If Kie hadn’t texted him, he’s sure he would have kissed Grace. And he wanted to now when she stood in front of him. But he was able to remind himself while she was in the bathroom that she’s drunk and reeling from finding out about her dad. He knows he’s an asshole but not a big enough asshole to take advantage of her while she’s in this state. JJ pulls himself together and goes back into Grace’s room.

He finds Grace curled up into a ball on the same side of the bed she was last night. He can see her body shaking and is sure she’s crying again. But he doesn’t know what to do now.

After getting into bed, he reaches over to touch her shoulder but she flinches away from him. Fuck, did he just totally screw everything up between them?

“Do you want me to go?”

Grace shakes her head no but refuses to turn around to face him. JJ understands this is the best he can hope for. He falls asleep thinking about how he will make things right between them tomorrow.

——

Grace wakes up with a horrendous headache. She rolls over to see JJ still asleep beside her. As she looks at his peaceful face, she cringes at the memory of his rejection last night. How could she be so stupid? Why would JJ Maybank be interested in her?

She slowly gets out of bed, trying desperately not to wake him up. As she stands under the hot water in the shower, she tries to piece together what happened last night. She’s a little impressed with herself for punching Rafe but can’t believe how she acted with JJ. He probably thinks she’s pathetic. Grace is jolted out of her self-pity when she hears the door open.

“Sorry, Grace, I just really need to pee.” Grace’s whole body stiffens in rage at the sound of her mom’s voice.

“Get out!”

“I’m sorry to burst in like this but you’ve been in here for 40 minutes and I couldn’t hold it anymore.”

Grace grinds her teeth in frustration. She needs to talk to her mom but she wants to be able to see her face when she asks her for the truth. Amanda leaves the bathroom and Grace quickly finishes her shower. When she gets back to her room, JJ is still snoring. She decides to deal with one emotionally painful situation at a time and leaves him asleep to go find her mom.

“Mom, we need to talk.” Amanda is making coffee in the kitchen so Grace sits at the table to wait for her.

“Ok, what’s up?” Amanda is certain that Grace wants to talk about her drinking. She knows it’s gotten bad and Grace has had to take care of her a lot lately.

“I saw dad yesterday.” Amanda can see how angry Grace is and is worried about where this conversation is going.

“Oh? How did that go?”

“Not great, mom. He told me he’s not my biological father.” Amanda flinches at Grace’s words and that’s enough confirmation for Grace. “Why didn’t you tell me?!”

“I didn’t want to hurt you, sweetie.” Amanda reaches over to take Grace’s hand and is hurt when Grace pulls her hands away. “Plus, it doesn’t really change anything. Paul knew I was pregnant before we got married. He knew he wasn’t your father but he still signed your birth certificate. Legally, that makes him your dad. My lawyer says-”

“Shut up!” Grace yells. “I don’t give a shit about the legal crap! And it changes everything! The man I consider my dad doesn’t want anything to do with me! And he never has. All these years, I thought I had done something wrong. That it was my fault that he never spent time with me. All my life, I’ve felt like I wasn’t good enough, that I didn’t deserve his or anyone else’s love.”

“Oh sweetie, no-”

“Stop, I don’t want to hear anything you have to say. You’re just as bad as he is. I knew I had to talk to you right away this morning because you won’t be sober much longer. You’ve been drunk by noon every day since we moved here. I had to get a job to pay our rent and buy groceries so we don’t starve. I’ve always been more of the adult in our relationship but now I can’t count on you at all. And... and I can’t trust you anymore.”

“Grace, that’s not fair.” Amanda knows that everything her daughter said is true but it doesn’t make it any less painful.

Grace storms into her room, too disgusted with her mother and too hurt to talk anymore. After slamming her door, she sinks to the ground and cries into her hands. She doesn’t hear JJ walk over to her over the sound of her own sobs. When he touches her shoulder, she jumps but quickly grabs onto him like a lifeline. He sits down with her and pulls her against his chest, thankful that she’s accepting his comfort.

Twenty minutes later, Grace’s tears have dried and her breathing has returned to normal. She looks up at JJ and is reminded of what happened between them last night. She sits up and releases him.

“Thank you, JJ. And... and I want to apologize... I was really drunk last night. I didn’t... I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I hope it doesn’t change... I’m sorry.”

“No, I’m sorry. I should have explained-” Grace cuts him off before he can go on.

“You don’t need to explain. I get it.” Grace stands up and puts as much distance as she can between them, desperately trying to avoid hearing how someone else important to her doesn’t want her. “Kiara will be here any minute. I think my mom is back in her room so you should go now before she sees you.”

JJ stares at Grace but she stubbornly avoids looking at him. After a minute of awkward silence, JJ walks towards her and stops in the doorway, trying to get her to meet his gaze. Grace finally looks him in the eyes but before he can talk, he hears Kiara honk to let Grace know she’s there. As they walk outside, he stops her before she gets in the car.

“Can I walk you home after work?”

“Uh, no. I’ll ask Kiara for a ride.”

“Please, I want to talk about this.” Grace looks down at her hands and JJ can practically hear her thinking through excuses. He gently turns her face to look at him and holds eye contact. “Please.”

Grace nods and quickly gets into Kiara’s car before he can say anything else. Kiara is staring at JJ through the passenger window, clearly confused about their exchange. He walks away quickly before Kiara has a chance to say anything to make this more awkward.

“Shit...” Grace cringes at the tone in Kiara’s voice. “What the hell was that?”

Ch 5

Taglist: @agirlwholovescoffee @alexa-playafricabytoto @mendesmaybank @teamnick @laurenyee09 @prejudic3 @teaheeee @shy-1234 @rudyismymanperiod @teaparadiso @rudy-pankow

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chaoticneutralwriter · 4 years

Text

Fourth Act: Kindness

Bear one another’s burdens, and so fulfill the law of Christ. - Galatians 6:2

guardian demon!jimin x reader

genre: fluff, romance, supernatural, angst, comedy, slow-burn

word count: 8.9k

Related works: see Masterlist under guardian demon!jimin

Continuation of Third Act: Patience

A/N: WELL WELL WELL, we’ve found ourselves four acts deep and only three more to go. That much closer for our favourite demon boy to completing his goal right? 🤐🤐 Sorry it took so long as per usual T.T a lot has been going on but nevertheless, I’m still so grateful to all of your patience and love for the series so far! I hope you enjoy this chapter too! Time to ramp things up again after this LOL Oh! Also to note, the switch between names is intentional (you’ll see what I mean). As always, I hope you’re all taking care of yourself.

@cherryjiminiee @kokobaekkie @breathebangtan @itsadoozie @thatshylatina @chiminieboi @azulamakesmeblank @sectumsemptae @awkwardwookie @aduky @poisonseashell @shortannoyingginger @caramelmac-chiato @sana-b @jiminstinct @beautifulparisiangirl @taelieninvader @ggukjitaejin @xakemi-chiix @vantaenims @atulipandarose

When you had woken up the next day, you were definitely a lot more relaxed, like the initial fear of having to confront the person who makes your body react involuntarily in funny ways has worn off. You’d laid in bed, taking the time to reflect on last night’s conversation and came to the conclusion that, no matter how short it was, you could’ve done worse. Granted, you had the safety net of talking to Jimin only through text message but baby steps! You just need to do a little readjusting, rearrange the new cards you’ve been dealt with so to speak. Even though you see your guardian demon in a more romantic way now, the last thing you wanted was for it to get out of control and potentially ruin the friendship you have with him.

You’d say you had a pretty good handle on that because much like last night, Jimin continues to text you every so other day. Most of the time, he asks about your well-being, of which you reply with your usual casualness (well, not like much goes on anyways). Then there are times where you and him have actual conversations. You don’t know how they start but whenever they do, it’s like coming home from a long day at work to discover that there was actually a tub of your favourite ice cream in the freezer all along — something to brighten the dull monotony of your life, a small sweetness for you to enjoy. You easily get lost in talking with him; the playful banter, the gibes, the jokes, even when the topics are meaningless, you find yourself grinning and giggling until your cheeks ache. Everything was still so natural and you’re proud to say, you’ve only slipped up twice! (The first time it was about his hair colour and you had mentioned black is probably your favourite look on him, the second was when you had mindlessly asked if he was ever going to stop by any time soon to visit because well—! It’s been a while right? Not like you miss him…that much.)

“Whatchu grinning at?”

The voice calling out to you makes you abruptly shoot your head up from being buried in your phone, eyes meeting Jaehee’s from across the table. She’s got a mischievous twinkle in her eyes and a slight quirk to her eyebrows, that’s enough for you to know that she’s caught you red-handed in one of your giddier moments. Cheeks flushing, you clear your throat and swiftly send a text back before placing the phone down on the table again, screen blackened to hide from the curious gaze prodding at you.

“Just…A meme my friends sent me…” You lie, stuffing a spoonful of fried rice into your mouth. Jaehee lets out a huff at your answer, shoulders sagging and an unimpressed look taking over her face in replacement.

“Uh huh? Just a meme?” Jaehee sounds wholly unconvinced, punctuated when she also adds, “You’re not doing the face that goes with it.”

“What face?”

“The one where you go like this.”

She demonstrates by squishing back her neck until there’s a slight double chin and then curls her lips into a dopey looking smile while staring down at her own phone. The sight makes you snort unattractively, followed by a short guffaw that has you covering your mouth. Jaehee joins in laughing with you.

“I thought that’s the face I always make no matter what I’m looking at.” You defend.

“Nah, you practically had heart eyes just now, and you got like this Disney princess smile on.” Jaehee counters, leaning her elbows onto the table. “So, is it Julien or is it Julien?”

“What makes you so confident it’s Julien?” You ask with an incredulous laugh.

“So it’s not Julien? Cuz if it’s not I would actually be very disappointed.”

That earns a light scoff from you, like as if you even have enough interest to pursue someone else, let alone the capabilities to try to reel them in, “Well, no, as if—“

“So Julien—“

“Jaehee!” You exclaim, feeling particularly bashful at being called out so suddenly — since when did you have a look when you’re texting someone? Does it show that much? “Why, what would you say if it was him?”

Your roommate grins slyly in a very Cheshire Cat manner and you swear she’s radiating an aura of excitement, wiggling in her seat as she asks, “Are you guys finally a thing?”

Your eyebrows furrow, almost in disbelief; at what you’re not even sure yourself but it leaves you feeling a little crestfallen. “I— no we’re not really a thing. I mean….” You cut yourself off, not sure where you want to go with this or if you’re even ready to have that talk yet so you sigh out, “It’s complicated.”

It might sound like a dumb reason to others, but you’d rather not involve your most trusted friend into something you’re still unsure about. You don’t want to make a mountain out of a molehill — get her invested in your boy troubles when she’s probably dealing with much more important life problems. At the admission, Jaehee’s playful grin slips and she tilts her head, puzzled. “Oh, really? I thought you guys were since….”

She trails off but you don’t need her to finish to know what she was implying. You let out a sigh again, shrugging and going back to spooning more rice on your plate in an attempt to brush it off.

“I don’t know…. I just— I’m still trying to work it out I guess.”

Jaehee watches you silently for a moment, taking in your dampened mood with concern before she settles back into her seat. “Damn, well if you need someone to vent then I’m here for you.” Pausing, she adds on with a small smile, “You know I’m always rooting for you.”

You can’t help but smile in return at her unwavering support. “Thanks Jaehee.”

Dinner passes on in companionable silence. Your years of friendship and living together have proven that you’re both in tune with each other; knowing and respecting each other’s boundaries as well as readily give support without having to say anything. It’s something you’re grateful for when it comes to Jaehee and is especially comforting because at least you know that the only pressure you’d be feeling is from yourself.

And that’s how you find yourself, staring aimlessly at your ceiling while lying in bed, deep in thought. The conversation with Jaehee, although it was brief, brought to light that, contrary to your beliefs, you’ve actually sunken yourself deeper into the rabbit hole. You’re no longer in that safe zone where if worse comes to worse, you’d be able to handle swallowing your feelings for your guardian demon and, maybe after a few days of sulking, would be able to accept that it was never meant to be. It’d hurt but you think it would at least hurt less; you’d be able to cope with it.

But before you realized it, your feelings have only grown and solidified from all the times you’ve texted that they have nowhere to go but out. You actually think if Jimin were to tell you he’s leaving the next day right now, you would have a bit of a mental and emotional breakdown.

So much for having a handle on things.

You bring your hands up to rub your face, letting out a little groan to yourself. As if sensing your distress, your phone comes to life with a buzz and a chime. It would’ve been a welcoming distraction had it not been a message from the very person who’s already occupying a huge chunk of your thoughts. So does it mean that you’re going to ignore it in favour of trying to get some peace?

“Did you have a good dinner?”

You’re typing out a response and hitting send because who were you kidding?

“I did! Good ol’ fried rice :)”

“…was it one of those days?”

“Hey! I enjoy eating fried rice once in a while >:( AND fyi, I had a sunny-side up egg on top so it’s not all as bad as it sounds.”

“Oh, how fancy of you~ “

(You roll your eyes as if he's saying it right in front of you).

“Okay chill out Mr. Bougie, I don’t need your judgment here.

I’m a simple woman.

I will eat anything as long as it’s edible.”

“Easy to please huh?

I quite like to see that for myself.”

You had to put your phone down for a hot second because you’re short circuiting. Why did your thoughts go that way? Did you ask for it to go that way? On second thought, maybe it’s you who needs to chill out.

A buzz catches your attention again and against your frantically beating heart and heated face, you go to check the message.  

“Are you in bed now?” 

You actually take a deep breath in and release it, trying to get your nerves under control but even so, the tips of your fingers still feel too jittery as you type.

“Yeah, just getting comfortable.”

“Good, you should get some sleep.

It worries me sometimes how late you stay up.

Makes me think you’re secretly a vampire or something.”

A snort leaves you and you shake your head at his accusations as you reply back almost instantly.

“I can’t help if I’m a night owl okay? And what would you do if I was a vampire? :O”

“Hmm….

Do you really want to know the answer to that?”

Maybe it’s because you’re so lost in conversations with him that something takes over, suddenly having the urge to get a rile out of him like the way he’s so good at doing with you that before you know it, you’re goading him on.

“Why? Would you nail me with a stake?”

Exhilaration courses through you, heart beat pounding against your chest like a beating drum as you wait. To your surprise, there’s a lull in the time he responds and it makes you preen a little, thinking for once you’ve managed to push his buttons instead of it being the other way around. It makes you anticipate his answer even more. Finally after a few minutes, a new text pops up. The words make you choke on air and you barely manage to smother the sounds of your loud coughs.

“I’d do more than just nail you with a stake darling.”

Once you’ve regained your breath, your face is absolutely on fire and your mind reeling. How do you even respond to that? Actually, you don’t even think you can — you’re here trying to one up a demon in his own game and all it got you was your foot in your mouth. You shouldn’t have expected anything less. As you’re panicking about where to even begin trying to play this entire thing off, a new message comes through.

“Like telling you that you should go to sleep or else you’ll actually start looking like the undead.

Sweet dreams, cherub. I’ll talk to you some other time.”

You wish him a good night in return, still very much in a daze at what just happened. Your hand flops back against your mattress and you just… lay there; no thoughts, head empty. Well, maybe one thought.

You really got it bad for him.

The streets of downtown are busy for a weekday, bustling with people who have places to go and others to see but considering the time, it’s not at all surprising. It’s approximately half past twelve in the afternoon, the general time where many who work in the office would be taking their lunches and with the convenience of the downtown area, many prefer to simply eat out. Whether it’s grabbing a quick bite or sitting down and enjoying a full service in the company of their co-workers, there’s a place that caters to everyone’s needs. It’s a time where everyone is eager to be relieved from their busy schedules and being cooped up in a cubicle for five hours straight before having to go back and push through the remaining hours of their workday.

It’s a very clockwork thing, something Jaehee knows all too well because she’s among the masses that’s a part of it yet as she watches her peers from her window seat in the cafe, she feels like the stranger looking from the outside in.

Almost three years ago, Jaehee had been like any other graduate fresh out of college; bright-eyed and ready to start their life as an ‘adult’ which meant getting a ‘real’ job. She had been so determined, vowed that gone were the days of being stuck with a minimum wage and she’s finally going to put her schooling to use. Of course, it wasn’t easy, half of the battle was just the interviews alone but over time, they start to affect her (as any normal person who’s been rejected over twenty times would, and in the form of ghosting no less).

So naturally when she had gone into that interview for a junior position in a rather small business, expecting no less only to get an offer? That was the olive branch Jaehee had been searching for in a metaphorical sea of pine trees. She accepted it without any further questions asked, the prospect of her first ‘real’ job overruling any doubts she would have had. A rookie mistake on her part, one that only really started to show once she was already in too deep.

At first, it was the small things; things that might’ve gotten under her skin at the time but very easily, Jaehee could push aside without thinking much of it again. After all, not like she expects this place to be perfect right off the bat. As long as they upheld proper HR codes, Jaehee didn’t mind that this was her humble beginnings. She had the mindset to work hard at her job, build her experience and then if things didn’t work out here, she’ll find somewhere else. So that’s what she did, she rolled with the punches every time and before she knew it, a year had passed.

But as time went on, more and more things came up; how the jobs she’s been tasked to hire candidates for always end up having little to no benefits in the long run, how because of that, they never stay for more than half a month at a time, how the inappropriate behaviour of some employees fly under the radar because it’s considered ‘not serious enough’ to be addressed, and how despite having worked for the company for years, her co-worker was never given a single pay raise no matter how well she did her job. It all made her uneasy.

Soon, telling herself to stick it out for just another year became harder that it quickly changed to just another month until here she is now, barely scraping it to three years and reduced to holding onto the single thread that’s still keeping her here — money, and even that is starting to wear thin.

As much as she hated to admit it, Jaehee has found herself trapped between a rock and hard place and she’s at a complete lost on what to do. The heavy sigh she releases felt more like it tore through her entire being, head slumping against the glass; maybe she should’ve hit up a bar rather than a cafe because she really could use a drink right now, happy hour times be damned.

Just as Jaehee considers going through with the idea, eyes scanning across the street to see if there were actually any bars or pubs close by, her gaze lands on an unexpected figure. At first, she didn’t think it was him, already hard to tell because of the black surgical mask he wore covering the lower half of his face while a pair of shades cover his eyes but the longer she watched him, the more sure she was; if there was one thing that stuck with Jaehee amongst the few times she’s met him, it was that he had an aura — he was one of those people you just knew looked attractive even from behind, which makes it all the more curious for Jaehee to see him about to walk into the same cafe she’s currently sitting in.

She watches as he comes to stand in the queue, head bowed and more focused on the phone in his hand while the other was stuffed into the pocket of his fitted dark wash jeans. Such an understated gesture but already out of the corner of Jaehee’s eye, she catches some customers looking his way with interest. The sight makes her stifle her chuckle; thoroughly amused at seeing what she had deducted earlier first hand. It’s only after he turns to head towards the self-serving counter, a medium sized coffee cup in his hand, does Jaehee think there might be a chance he’ll notice her and as if feeling a particularly steady pair of eyes on him, she sees his chin raise slightly more towards her direction.

So, with a slight wave of her hand and a smile, Jaehee makes herself known officially to the taller male, his name slipping out in a bright greeting, “Julien!”

She sees him momentarily pause, then tilt his head before he nods in acknowledgement, casually grabbing a sleeve and a lid for his cup. Once he does, he begins to stride toward Jaehee’s table, stopping short just beside the unoccupied seat across from her.

“Didn’t expect to run into you here.” He says in a light drawl as he pulls down his mask to sip at his coffee. What luck.

“I found this place to have the best coffee around my office.”

“Oh, so you work around here?” Julien sounds genuinely surprised, even takes a brief glance out onto the streets before seemingly coming to accept that possibility. “On lunch then?”

Jaehee can’t help the wry smile that makes its way onto her lightly tinted lips, shoulders heaving and the reply she gives leaves her in the form of a tired sigh. “Yeah….For now.”

At this close distance now, Jaehee can see Julien’s eyes faintly through the tinted colours of his shades, how they seem to observe her over the white rim of the coffee cup he has gingerly grazing his slightly parted plump lips, mid-drink.

One sweep of her form tells all he needs to know, so used to picking up the signs of a troubled human — a skill he’s honed over the many years of living to easier prey and exploit the vulnerable into falling victim to his dark temptations. But he’s not here to lead her astray (he thinks he’d have his head chopped off before that, courtesy of one particular gremlin he knew and adore). Besides that, he may or may not have a favour to ask of Jaehee.

“Well, you sure sound eager to get back to work.” He chuckles sarcastically. Jaehee lets out a quiet huff of air through her nose, crossing her arms as she further slumps into her seat.

“I have yet to honestly meet a person who actually likes going to work.” She mumbles sardonically, making the corner of his mouth twitch. Julien takes the opportunity to slide into the seat finally, tilting his head inquisitively in a way that reminds Jaehee of a puppy….or a cat…. Puppy-cat.

“You sound especially loathsome to go back.” Julien starts casually, placing his coffee cup down in front of him and after tapping his ring clad fingers against it, he continues with a sly smirk, “Smells like tea to me.”

Jaehee laughs, shaking her head as she also takes the time to sip more from her own cup. “Well, no! I mean…” Her voice trails off and her smile falters a little, like the gravity of the situation is settling in on her and there’s really no hope in trying to deflect with humour. Jimin waits patiently, watching the conflicting emotions flit through Jaehee’s expressions and to coax her into deluging more on what’s been bothering her, he smiles reassuringly.

“I’m all ears.”

She pauses to regard him for a moment and seeing his openly friendliness makes the last of her resolve crumble. How lucky you are that you managed to snag a catch like Julien; now she swears if you two don’t end up together then maybe romance is actually dead.

Pulling out from her thoughts, Jaehee brushes aside some loose strands of hair before she rests her chin in her hand, looking out the window to see a group of office workers enjoying the patio weather in the restaurant across the street, throwing their head back in boisterous laughter. She feels envious. With one last sigh, she speaks.

“Work…has been getting unbearable, to say the least and I don’t know how much more I can take.”

Julien hums. “Overbearing manager?”

“It’s everything really; most of the people there, the environment, the job itself…. It all just piled up and now every time I go to work it’s soul draining. I feel so anxious and…uncomfortable. All the time.”

“Have you…tried bringing those issues up with your reporting manager?”

Another heavy sigh leaves Jaehee, shaking her head. “I tried once or twice but they either brush it off or do the bare minimum to fix it. It doesn’t last long usually.”

Julien leans back against his chair, languidly folding his legs so that his ankle rests on the top of one knee. It makes for an impressive view of his insane body proportions that Jaehee still can’t believe can exist on a person; the long sleeve, dark grey and black knit tee is half tucked into his pants, giving a peek of his cinched waistline while legs that seem to extend endlessly, streamlined to a pair of black Chelsea boots. She swears Julien isn’t the tallest male she’s encountered (her own boyfriend Jason might actually be a head taller than he is) but somehow, sitting like this, you would think this man is actually seventy percent legs.

“Why don’t you quit then? You don’t sound happy being there anyways.”

His blunt suggestion takes her aback that for a moment she thinks he’s joking but he remains unfazed, completely serious. It’s a pretty obvious thing to do Jimin thinks, yet Jaehee is here looking at him as if he just told her to launch herself into space to escape from her problems. Times like these he’s reminded of how sometimes humans aren’t always so sensible. After the words have sunk in, Jaehee begins to piece together her thoughts.

“That’s…. Yeah that’s a given huh? But I just— I don’t know Julien.” The last few words come out in a sort of defeated whine, the same time Jaehee nearly slumps her head entirely onto the table in front of her and Jimin subtly takes his coffee cup to hold in the safety of his lap instead. “I want to, god I want to. At some point I even tried looking at other places and submitting resumes but I never get replies back and this place, as shitty as it is, has decent pay. If I leave… I don’t know what that would mean for me and Y/N — especially Y/N.”

Jimin sits up a little straighter at the mention of you.

“She’s still in school and also working too. I don’t want to add onto her stress load by putting ourselves in a financially tough place.” Jaehee buries her hands into her hair, mussing up the long locks into disarray with quite frankly the most severe, pinched expression of trouble Jimin has ever seen on someone. It ages her almost ten years before his eyes. He won’t lie, this isn’t exactly the kind of woes he thought he would be hearing from your roommate. Originally, he had planned to entertain her for a bit, slip in that favour he has and then be on his way. But seeing and hearing the extent of her problems now, he can’t help feeling a little sympathetic because in spite of the amount of distress it’s causing your roommate, she still thinks of you, even going as far as to consider bearing with it.

Though he might not know her well, it’s clear to Jimin that she cares about you a lot.

“Does Y/N know about what’s been happening with your workplace?” He asks carefully. Jaehee blinks before her cheeks begin to colour lightly in embarrassment and she ducks her head to try and hide it, as if just realizing how much of a mess she’s become in front of someone who she’s supposed to be keeping up good impressions for. She clears her throat awkwardly, moving to smooth out her hair again by combing through the strands and bringing her hands down to rest on the nape of her neck.

“Yeah…I’ve vented to her a couple of times about it, when things got too stressful so I think she has a good idea of what’s going on.”

“And…has she ever suggested you to quit and find a new place to work?”

Jaehee pauses in thought and then shakes her head. “Not outright I don’t think. She’s always hinted at it but she never pushes me.”

Jimin makes a noncommittal noise, smiling a little to himself — that sure sounds like you; considerate maybe even to a fault, which is why the next thought that comes to mind makes him feel disquieted.

The sudden silence from the male has her finally looking up to see what the cause of it was, only to find him looking rather bothered, deep in thought with brows pinched and a slight frown tugging down the corner of his lips. It makes her retrace her words, wondering if she had said something wrong and just as she goes to ask, he speaks up.

“Listen Jaehee, I might not…know Y/N well enough,” He starts, mindful of his wording, “but I’m confident that I know, and you know, Y/N really cares for you as much as you care for her, which is probably why she doesn’t want to push you to make a really big life changing decision. And that’s just the thing….”

He inclines his head, his attention suddenly focused on Jaehee and the weight of his gaze pierces through even the tint of his sunglasses. It has Jaehee straightening upright in her seat, involuntarily bracing herself from something she’s not quite sure of.  “She cares about you — your happiness matters to her more than some shitty job that pays well.”

Again, Jaehee is shocked into a stupor for the second time today by this man, his frankness so unapologetic but also from the amount of conviction he speaks concerning you. It was….highly endearing and she had to catch herself from grinning, choosing instead to stow away this little tidbit of information (that she may or may not share to you later). But more than that, Jaehee could swear that he even sounded the slightest bit defensive?

“So even if you quit now, I highly doubt Y/N would hold it against you.” Julien says, and in a much softer undertone that doesn’t go unnoticed by Jaehee, “She’s not the type of person to do that.”

She feels strangely touched, so much that all she can do is blink, speechless. When words fail to form, Jaehee lets out a quiet, breathy laugh, choosing to resign to the fact of the matter; Julien is right about pretty much everything and she expresses as much.

“You’re right, she definitely wouldn’t do that. I guess I’m just…scared?” Jaehee wrings her fingers anxiously. “The guilt would eat me up if things go bad for us, all because I quit my job.”

She hears him hum and as she looks up towards him, he’s nodding. “That’s pretty understanding, but is staying and sacrificing yourself really going to be worth it? Gambling with your well-being isn’t something you should take so lightly.” He shifts in his seat and continues in a gentler tone, “You have the right to think about it and come to your own decision, I can’t stop you from doing that. For what it’s worth though, you deserve better and you’re surrounded by a lot of people who wouldn’t hesitate to help you.” There’s a brief pause where he seems to catch himself, then as if making up his mind however, he mumbles, “Including me.”

Jaehee can’t help her eyes widening a bit at the declaration and she nearly breaks out into a full on grin when she sees that the dark haired male in front of her has turned his attention to the window, raising his cup to sip on his coffee in what would’ve passed as a nonchalant manner if it weren’t for the slight pink colouring creeping up his neck or the way he refuses to meet her eyes anymore. For his sake, she discreetly bites her lip to manage the urge to an appreciative smile.

“Thanks Julien, for everything. I didn’t mean to unload all of my problems onto you like that but you’ve helped me see a clearer picture on everything.”

Julien shrugs, like it’s no big deal. “It’s nothing really, though you should probably sit down and tell Y/N all of this instead of me.”

Jaehee nods humming in agreement, already feeling lighter than she had been when she first sat down in this cafe. It’s made her change her perspective into a positive one, one where she doesn’t feel so trapped about her situation. So when she notices the growing number of office patrons dwindling and leaving from their respective lunch gatherings, she’s not as anxious at the prospect of going back. As if on cue, the man across from her takes a glance down at his watch (an elegant little thing; the black leather strap standing out against a pale wrist looked so flattering that Jaehee thought idly about maybe gifting Jason the same style and how nice it would look on him too…..until she balks with the realization that it was Chanel and the idea was immediately discarded).

“Looks like you’re due to head back.” Jimin remarks, noting the time before glancing up at Jaehee. She blinks, as if snapping out of a daze and it makes him quirk an eyebrow but then brushes it off; she must still be digesting everything that happened.

“A-Ah yeah…I should probably head back…soon…” He nearly snorts at the way your roommate is obviously stalling for time, not that he would blame her now that he knows what’s been going on. But with it, he thinks now is as good a time as any.

“Hey, before you go,” He starts smoothly to catch Jaehee’s attention. She perks up, inclining her head to him. “You think you can do me a small favour?”

Jimin’s not entirely surprised to see Jaehee nod expectantly, eager to accept without even hearing him out first. Oh well, makes his job a whole lot easier.

“Yeah what’s up?”

“This might sound a little strange but can you make sure Y/N…doesn't go off and do something she might regret?” He asks, trying to be as vague yet convincing as he can because if he wants to put his plan into action, Jimin can’t have you possibly seeking him out once you become too suspicious of his absent and blatant excuses on why he can’t come by. It would needlessly put you in very dangerous situations but with the help of Jaehee, he could prevent it or at the very least, stall until he’s able to pull himself together more. Even in this moment, he’s beginning to feel pinprick needles crawl up the back of his neck, the effort to keep a cool facade has him taking deep, steadying breaths. He sees Jaehee’s expression scrunch up in confusion, blinking and he doesn’t need to hear her question when it’s so clear on her face.

“I might be gone for a while, nothing too concerning so I don’t want her to worry.”

“I still don’t understand why you can’t tell her that yourself?” Jaehee points out, still very much confused as she crosses her arms. Jimin responds with a well placed wry smile, one he hopes doesn’t look more like a grimace than anything though he can’t help but feel that’s the case. It doesn’t matter, the discomforting and all too familiar stabbing has spread past his shoulder blades, making his skin break out into cold sweat. He gets up, ready to take his leave before he unwillingly keels over, the action startling Jaehee.

“It’s…It’s complicated Jaehee. Sorry I can’t tell you more but I promise it’s nothing serious. Just…” Jimin hates how out of breath he sounds, swallowing as he rushes to get everything out. “Take care of her?”

So caught off guard by his sudden sense of urgency, Jaehee stutters, “Y-Yeah of course. Julien are you sure everything’s okay? You don’t— ” She stands, about to take a step towards the taller male but he immediately retreats back and she halts.

“I’m fine Jaehee. I have to leave now, I hope to see you around.”

Julien takes off before she has the time to think of something else to say, long strides easily carrying him out of the cafe and disappearing down the side street.

Jaehee’s frozen, eyebrows remaining furrowed and mind racing in trying to process what’s taken over Julien just now. Furthermore, she starts to realize that maybe the growing clamminess of his complexion she saw earlier wasn’t a trick of the light after all. Now she’s confused and worried. What was he trying to hide? Unfortunately she doesn’t have time to linger on it, a quick glance at her phone lets her know that she’s already running five minutes late so with no other choice, she exhales heavily, squaring her shoulders and prepares to trek back to her hell hole of an office with the hope that it will be for the last time.

You felt it coming; another yawn that threatens to tear your whole mouth open and you just barely manage to stifle it. You’ve lost count on how many times you’ve yawned within the hour, each time it leaves your eyes watery and you swear what little energy you had would be expelled along with it.

On most days, this wouldn’t be anything new. It was just your luck that you get scheduled with an opening shift so in combination with your already atrocious sleeping schedule, your usual perpetually tired state is doubled. However these days, there’s something else added into the mix.

Your restless nights have since been plagued with thoughts of one reoccurring demon, and not the kind that people would imagine — figments of your own imagination conjured up from the darkest recesses of the mind to torment you — no, you’re the one who has a literal demon tormenting your thoughts and the worse part is he’s probably not even aware of it!

Clearly, you’ve underestimated yourself, didn’t anticipate for the rug to be pulled out from under your feet so quickly like that. You thought you could make nice with being in a one-sided crush forever when in reality, you’ve crossed that point of no return already and now all you want to do is confess your feelings, rip that bandage off once and for all.

You want to, but….

You’re still scared deep down. What was the lesser evil? Confess and be rejected or refrain and live not knowing? Both sound like complete agony to you yet in the end, you lack the strength to do neither.

And what’s more pressing is that time is running out for you. Above your chaotic, never-ending dilemma, the reminder stays steadily in the back of your mind like ticking of a clock, muted at first, only now it’s louder and clearer than ever — your inevitable crocodile encroaching to devour the rest of you, the ever fearful Hook.

You need to make a decision and soon before it’s beyond your control.

You’re so caught up in your thoughts that you don’t notice the end of your shift until your manager bumps into you, still in the aisle absentmindedly folding and refolding the t-shirts.  

“Girl, what are you still doing here? It’s like way past one-thirty, you need to leave!” Rachel laughs, nudging the shirts out of your hands.

“O-Oh, really?” You reply, a bit dazed but nevertheless, thankful. “I’ll see you next shift then.”

She waves and you scurry off, heading to the backroom to throw off your uniform vest, clock out and grab your things to leave. One good thing about having an early morning shift is at least you get to leave by afternoon and with the weather so nice lately, the trip back won’t add to dampen your mood.

For good measures, you even decide to stop by Starbucks to get yourself some well deserved ice coffee. The barista greeting you with a bright smile when you make it to the front counter.

“Hello, what can I get you for today?”

“Can I have a grande vanilla sweet cream cold brew?”

“For sure! Anything else?”

Your mouth opens to say that's all but then you stop, thinking to yourself briefly and then instead reply, “And one venti Very Berry Hibiscus Refresher.”

The barista nods, happy to punch in your additional order and that’s when you confirm then that that will be all. You move off to the side after you pay to wait for your drinks. You pull out your phone as you wait and absently wonder if you should text Jaehee about leaving her drink in the fridge when she gets home.

Lately, you’ve noticed Jaehee’s work schedule has become more sporadic than what you’re used to seeing; sometimes she’s home around three in the afternoon and other times you think she didn’t even go to work that day. Of the times she’s gone before you wake up, you find that she either has gone to work or was actually at Jason’s for the entire night. You don’t question it much, already getting the feeling that the cause is her troubles at work and she’s aware that you’re aware of it too, if the perplexed looks you shoot her whenever you see her on those occasions were anything to go by.

If this is Jaehee taking time off to simply get away and rest mentally, you’re not against it (in fact, you’re surprised that she hasn’t done so sooner). Regardless, you hope she’ll feel better and though it’s not much, you’ll lend her your ears and shoulder…..and maybe a large dose of her favourite drink.

Your name gets called and you go to collect your orders, then set off home. You arrive without further incident, enjoying the nice weather as you go. When you step through your door, you’re mildly surprised to find that your roommate in question isn’t home so you toe off your shoes and head to the kitchen to drop off her drink in the fridge.

After refreshing yourself by taking off your makeup and changing into more comfortable clothes, you decide to start prepping for dinner. Tonight’s menu is an amalgamation of things — you plan for chicken quesadilla with sour cream as the main dish but after spying a bag of frozen Korean dumplings and spicy rice cake, your stomach demands them to be served up as well. As they say, comfort food is always the best food.

You’ve just about finished grilling the last of the chicken breast and peppers to be used for the quesadilla when you hear the door unlock. Without having to check, you know it’s Jaehee and no sooner you turn towards the kitchen threshold, you see her trotting in.

“Hey.” She greets, doing little to conceal the tiredness in her voice and you offer a sympathetic smile.

“Hey, welcome home. You should go wash up and I’ll have the food ready when you’re done.”

Jaehee smiles gratefully at you before heading off in the direction of her room. You finish grilling up the remaining dumplings when Jaehee reappears again, bare faced and comfy like you are. As she seats herself at the small little table, you serve the quesadilla and dumplings first, letting the spicy rice cake simmer on low heat a little longer on the stove.

Looking at Jaehee now, you can’t help but to notice how worn she looks, dark bags beginning to form under her eyes even when she lets out a satisfied groan from taking her first bite.

“God I’ve been craving this all day.” She mumbles around a mouthful.

“You’re telling me.” You nod between chews. “As soon as I saw the bag of dumplings in the freezer, I had to make some. Same thing with the spicy rice cake, it’s been so long.”

“And that’s why we’re still roommates for so long.”

You laugh, agreeing wholeheartedly; your palette and overall love for food is what made your bond so strong, amongst other important things. You continue to eat in amicable silence, simply enjoying the food and each other’s company as part of unwinding for the day though a part of you itched to ask after Jaehee, to check in on how she’s really holding up. You only hold off for the time being to let her have her fill and forget about it, if just for a moment.

Eventually, by the time you’re both making quick work on the spicy rice cakes do you retrieve her little pick-me-up drink and wordlessly place it in front of her.

“Oh my god, girl.” She sighs out happily and you’ve never seen her light up so brightly in an instance. Your smiles matches hers as you take your seat again to pick at the remaining rice cakes.

“Knowing your workplace, you look like you could use it.”

After taking a hearty gulp, Jaehee places her drink down, a quiet pensive look taking over her expression. You can clearly see the thoughts swirling inside of her head, debating with herself but you wait patiently until she’s ready, if she’s ready. When you think the moment has passed, Jaehee finally speaks.

“Actually, I’m quitting.”

The shock of it still gets you even when you knew at some point this would happen. It was long overdue in your opinion, something you’ll admit you wished would happen because considering everything, you never understood how Jaehee had managed to put up with it for so long. You worried it would run her into the ground sooner than later and despite all the talks of leaving, they remain just that; talks. So over time, you choose to not push out of respect but remain firm in your beliefs.

Sitting up a little straighter, you swallow the chewy rice cake and nod approvingly. “Wow, for real? Like, you turned in your two weeks notice and everything?”

Jaehee breathes a laugh, sounding very much chagrined. “I think I did a little more than that.” At the inquisitive tilt of your head, she elaborates. “I sat down to talk to Ethan, my manager and I just…broke down and told him everything. Like, everything — how I felt about lying to candidates for a job that isn’t even worth leaving their current one for, how I don’t have even the basic benefits working for the company, and just feeling…awful coming into work every day.”

She inhales, “And then two days after that, he called me into his office and told me he was letting me go.”

Now that was shocking news to you. You blink incredulously, “After all that, he had the nerve to fire you? That just shows how much he cares.”

Jaehee can only nod, bemused herself but not entirely bothered. “Yeah, I mean I would be more mad about it if it wasn’t for the fact that I found out the company is literally a pyramid scheme.”

Your mouth drops without meaning to and you’re rendered speechless; definitely wasn’t expecting that. Jaehee lets a bark of laughter at your reaction.

“Yeah, exactly but it all makes sense now and it’s made me feel better about my choice. Now I’m just mad that I didn’t realize sooner.”

“Well I’m all the more glad for you.” You say, “Fuck that guy.”

Your remark earns you a half smile from Jaehee, one that is more morose than it is mirthful. It fades as quickly into something more serious, eyes downcast and fingers idly tracing the perspiration that’s gathered on her cup. “I’m happy I don’t have to work at that place anymore, but I don’t know what we’re gonna do about money from now on.”

She says it so sombrely that you might think she’s telling you the world is ending tomorrow. Okay, that might be a stretch but you do understand where Jaehee’s concerns are coming from. You’re not gonna lie and say Jaehee’s job didn’t play a huge role in helping you both pay rent and live well enough that you didn’t have to constantly worry about living from pay cheque to pay cheque. You’re lucky to be on a partial scholarship, but even then, you had close calls on paying rent on time. There’s a lot up in the air now, no doubt there’s gonna be a lot to change and though it’s worrisome, you find yourself not caring because more than anything, you’re happy for Jaehee and that’s something to worth celebrating instead.

“Yeah, we’re probably gonna have to do a lot adjusting once the time comes but really Jaehee, I’m just happy that you don’t have to work that awful job anymore.” You say, reassuring. “We can worry about all of that when it comes.”

Jaehee glances up then, staring at you as if searching for hints of a bravado but when she sees how genuine you are for her, she smiles and it reaches her eyes fully.

“You sure? Last chance.”

  “I’m positive. Hell, I’ll even put in a good word for you and who knows, we might end up working together.”

She’s snorts, shaking her head. “Thanks, I’ll consider it. At this point I think even a retail job would be so much better than what that was.” You purse your lips, considering the thought but agree in the end because as much as you loathed your job, at least there were moments where you could have fun with your co-workers; shit talking customers and managers is always a great way to pass time and bond.

You recline back in your seat as the atmosphere transitions into something lighter, like a weight has cleared the air and sip lightly at your ice coffee while Jaehee does the same with her drink. When she finishes it, she exhales, visibly more relaxed.

“So,” She begins, “what about you? Are you still talking with Julien?”

You blink, clearing your throat and scratch your cheek before answering distractedly, “Um…Yeah, like…on and off?”

Truth be told, the last message you sent to him was four nights ago. They were nothing special, just your usual chats as a way for you to talk about your day with sprinkles of bantering in between and maybe….a little flirting? Your head spins at the thought, butterflies erupting in your gut and even though these chats reduce you to a sputtering mess, they’re the things you look forward to the most at the end of the day. Which makes it worrying that you’ve noticed how they don’t last as long as they used to. You try not to let it bother you too much, thinking that perhaps it was just the insatiable craving for interactions that comes with realizing your feelings for someone.

And a hint of desperation in knowing that he may soon leave.

Maybe it’s the nature of the conversations that has taken place tonight or maybe you too needed to unload a bit off your chest, but you find yourself confessing your deepest worries too, finally speaking them into existence.

“Lately, I….I don’t know, it’s hard to explain.” You struggle, stopping to try and find the right words but you think you won’t have such luck. Swallowing, you power on through the best you can anyways. “I don’t know when it happened, hell I didn’t think it would even turn out this way. I thought all we could be is just friends but then….” You scoff a laugh at yourself, “I caught feelings, and now I don’t know what to do with them.”

Jaehee takes in your words across from you with a serious air though it doesn’t quite mask how ecstatic she is at the news. The sight makes you feel better, although you wished you could match her enthusiasm.

“Are you planning on telling him then?”

The sigh you let out nearly takes everything out of you and you slump against your chair, nearly sinking down to your waist.

“That’s the thing; I don’t know if I should? Like, am I reading too much into this? Or like, maybe he—“ It pains you to say it, voice coming out small but you can’t rule out the possibility, “Maybe he might not look at it the same way I do. I don’t want to ruin our friendship just because I misread everything. And what’s worse is that….He’s…going away soon so I just feel like….It might not be a smart idea after all but at the same time I just….” You inhale from running out of breath mid-rant, only to finish off with a helpless, “I really like him….”

God you must sound pathetic…

“Okay first off, I highly doubt that’s the case.” Jaehee jumps in with surprising speed. “From what I know, it doesn’t seem like it’s just you. I…I actually ran into him not too long ago during lunch at work…”

“You did?” You sit up at that, interested.

“Yeah, we sat down and I was feeling so overwhelmed that day that I ended up telling him about work too. He told me how I should pluck up the courage to quit because I deserve better and to be honest, one of the reasons why I didn’t want to to do it was because I was scared that it would put us in a tough spot, especially with you being in school and all. I didn’t want to pressure you with anything because of something that was on me. But he wouldn’t have any of it,” She lets out a quiet laugh with a shake of her head, recalling the conversation. “He said that it doesn’t matter because you’d support me all the way, that you care more about my happiness than some job that pays well.”

Jaehee shoots you a wide smile, taking one of your hand and giving it a squeeze. “And he was right. He didn’t have any doubts that you wouldn’t have my back and…he even offered to help out if things get bad for us when he didn’t need to. I don’t know about you but that just tells me how much he thinks and cares about you.”

“If I’m gonna be honest, aside from BTS, I’ve never seen you really feel for someone so strongly before, and that has to mean something. I can see how much you really care about him too. So I think you should tell him, maybe even more so before he leaves because I don’t want to see you regret not telling him instead. I know it's gonna eat you up.”

Now you’re the one overwhelmed with all sorts of emotions running through you at once; touched, assured, surprised to hear that Jimin had been the one to console Jaehee like that, and to hear first hand how supportive he is of her and you…

Something surges in your chest, the feeling almost leaving you breathless but you’re beginning to feel invigorated, more sure of yourself. It gives you hope, a dangerous thing but you want to so badly believe that there’s something there, something more.

“You…really think so?”

She gives you a pointed look, stare unwavering and that alone is more than enough. “One hundred percent, you never know until you try but I think he’s just as into you. And if by the off chance that I’m wrong…I’ll be there for you, whether to pig out on a carton of ice cream or to beat somebody up. I gotchu girl, like how you got me.”

You take a deep breath in, squeezing Jaehee’s hand back and her confidence rubs off on you. You let it take away whatever remaining doubts you have left. There's no excuse to back down now, or to run from it.

You’re gonna do it.

You have to do it.

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danganronpedits-archived · 4 years

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hello! could i get a yttd, dr, and/or (s)dra(2) matchup, please? I’m pretty easy to get along with, and outgoing, according to my friends. im a very pda heavy person, and i show it whenever possible. Im naturally very charismatic, and i find it easy to get my way, but i often doubt my authenticity because of it. Usually im a very truthful person, but i can lie when it matters. im a very emotional person, but i dont like to stress out my friends with my emotions. (1/2?)

+ yttd/dr/(s)dra(2) anon here again! i care deeply for my friends and i try to help them whenever i can. usually this is more in the way of advice. despite having a fair amount of friends, though, i’m officially an introvert (infj). //thank you and have a good day!!// (2/2)

yeahhhhhh you could totally get a matchup!! you sound suuper sweet!! thank you so super duper much for requesting, your matchup may-or-may-not be under the cut !!!

i’ll warn ya though, the length of this one varies a whoooole lot. my matchup-motivation(matchivation, as i call it) has been at a low lately, super sorry that you’re on the receiving end of that! i’ll get out of my slump soon, proomise !!

-mod tsu (kinsidering icons)

first off, from your turn to die, i match you with...

kazumi mishima!

this section contains spoilers for your turn to die, as well as the island mode spin-off, your time to shine! okay, PLEASE hear me out on this one. i was originally going to put mai here- so this is definitely a jump. however, specifically based on your mbti type, i think mishima is a better fit. let me explain. despite being a little strange, i think that people can find it easy to get along with mishima. he’s very close with nao, of course, and even before the second trial he manages to develop a friendship with gin, and become on good terms with sara, kanna, joe, and somewhat reko. in the island mode, while it may be customary since he’s the protagonist, mishima does also get along rather well with the rest of the cast. plus, he’s typically the one that’s more willing to ask questions about the others in a friendly way, or more willing to be personal with the rest of the cast. it’s clear that he cares very much about other people, and i think that corresponds with your MBTI type. to quote the website’s specific description, INFJ types, “take the actions that they do because they are trying to advance an idea that they truly believe will make the world a better place.” while escaping from an island is a somewhat extreme example, it still applies. i wouldn’t say he’s exactly pda heavy- but kazumi is very actively affectionate for other people. he drinks with keiji, um... and works out with shin? however, it’s clear that in all circumstances, he wants to help and has the best intentions in mind. in terms of you, i’d say he definitely shows affection whenever possible, though maybe not in physical form. in terms of getting his way... i would actually say that he does, too. first off, going back to that charisma you both have, it makes the two of you seem rather reliable. plus, i think both of you know when what you’re asking for is too much, and in general those good intentions seep into what you ask other people for. haha... i could definitely learn something from you guys. he is rather truthful i’d say, especially in how much he cares for others. i think that the two of you would also be rather trusting, not being paranoid or wary unless there’s a good reason to. however, he can lie when it matters. in the beginning, kanna is much more stressed about her sister’s fate than she is later on in the game. kazumi lies for her sake, and tries to help her resolve and morale, by saying that there’s nothing she could have done to save her sister. obviously, kugie passing wasn’t kanna’s fault, but that was one of the only arguments kazumi could have given to her at the time that it wasn’t. that’s definitely a time when i’d say lying matters. maybe you’ve lied to spare someone’s feelings before, too ,,

well... the bad thing about hiding your feelings is that it’s hard to conclude whether mishima is hiding his own. after all... if they’re hidden, we wouldn’t see them so often. however, it’s clear that he thinks more than one might imagine at a glance. he cares deeply for his students beyond a surface level, and it’s clear that he’s attached to other people. he indirectly gives up his life for the sake of nao’s safety, and in the second chapter, his AI only blames himself for the grief his death caused nao. pluss... unless it’s with one of the kiddos(gin, kanna, etc), mishima is more the type to suggest ways to improve yourself, rather than just emotional support n beefing you uup. liiiiike, bring up your time to shine again, mishima’s obviously the one leading everyone to their epic island survival. right. BUT, in his affection events w/ shin specifically, the two of them work out together since shin mentions being really weak. whenever he facez a problem, his first thought is how to beat it into the ground. and maybe you feel similarly!!! with that productive mindset!! if you do... i promise that it’s super duper clear to everyone that you care so much, and they love-love how much you’re able to look out for their well being!!!!!! both of you do that!!! i’m going to explore your MBTI a little more real quick!!! buckle up, readers !!! buuuut before we do, mishima’s totally got a lot of friends. like, full stop, he finds it easy to get close with people on both the island and in the death game. however i think that mishima’s definitely more of an introvert than an extrovert. fiirst off, other than the whole art is the introvert’s ideal activity thing(plus, infj’s are said to be creative + artistic!! double kill!!), he also... gosh. how do i explain it. he more seems to like people than actively seek energy from them the way extroverts do, yaaa know? plus, wiith that advice thing you mentioned, INFJ’s tend to be future-focused people. i think that mishima’s a really goal-focused kind of guy. pluus, the both of you are bit reserved in yourselves(liike what you said about doubting your authenticity), and it totally seems like you value closer and deeper relationshipsz. aalso, the two of you may be a little hard to get to know, and can maybe be too sensitive to things(you mentioned being emotional). lastly, i think the both of you can totally be idealists- and as the 16personalities website says, you’re not “idle dreamers”. i wouldn’t be surprised if the both of you care for other people a whole lot, and try your best to help them and in general make the world better through other people. if that makes sense!

second off, from danganronpa, i match you with...

chisa yukizome!

like before, this part contains spoilers for danganronpa 3, the end of hope’s peak academy! it will have spoilers for future and despair arc, as i haven’t watched hope arc. ...though kaede akamatsu is a close second! honestly, while i did settle on chisa, i think you’re like if kaede and chisa did a funky dance and fused together. you’re still really like chisa though!!! the two of you both seem pretty easy to get along with, and definitely outgoing. however, i think that even with your eccentricities, you don’t really overwhelm people! you may a little here or there by mistake, but you’re sure to reel it in if they tell you about it- at least, that’s my guess. plus, i’d also guess that the two of you have good communication skills. as someone who seems to care deeply about people, both of you would probably make an effort to make sure you’re understood by the other person, and that the other person is understood in return. this also goes along with you seeming good at telling how others are feeling. plus, chisa isn’t someone who’s afraid to get physical with other people. this is shown when she physically picks up nanami in the first episode, and her pulling kyosuke and sakakura to her in an old photograph of the three. plus, while it’s not exactly affectionate... teruteru was on the receiving end of some ropes. she does seem to show this very often, as even when she’s not physically affecting people, chisa is still perfectly willing to get in others’ faces. i’d imagine that when she was younger, she might have been more like ibuki in that she just couldn’t restrain herself from expressing the affection in her body. i’d also agree that chisa’s rather charismatic. she’s able to get all of class 77-B on her side in the span of one day, and gets very close with even fuyuhiko after a few months. all of them miss her dearly when she’s sent off to the reverse course. jumping topics a little, i think that she also finds it easy to get what she wants. starting off with class 77-B, of course her charm let her get close to all of them- but her general determination makes it easy for her to know how she wants to face something. maybe you’re also the type to have ideas and a plan, and then roll with it if something goes wrong! neither of you seem like the type to go off of pure impulse, though- maybe educated intuition, but to make a funny joke, neither of you seem particularly trigger happy. you’re both the type to take a second and think before you make a decision, but you’re not the type to think too hard about most things. at least, that’s what i’m getting.

next up, we come to the reason that i went with chisa instead of kaede. i think that with your more goal-setting and process-based mind, you wouldn’t overthink a lie you’re telling and realise that it has to get done. i could be totally wrong, but if chisa sees it as necessary, she can create various well-meaning schemes. for example, while it’s not really a great one, whenever she’s brainwashed by junko she basically gets the future foundation taken down due to her acting skills. while i think she has a strong sense of right and wrong, i think that if she needed to lie she’d know it’s for the greater good. like mishima, maybe you’ve had to do something like that before- sparing someone else’s feelings, keeping someone away from trouble. so on. chisa is definitely someone i’d call emotional! her students can make her jump from protective, to frustrated, to overjoyed all in the span of a few minutes. these are all things she uses to her advantage, though i think that if she didn’t believe these emotions would be beneficial to communicating, she wouldn’t express them. you might feel the same way. for example, if you were in a situation where someone was acting unjustly, it would be more obvious than a situation where... say, you’re having personal issues that you can’t fix. i think you’d try to keep it to yourself if you didn’t think it would be beneficial. you deserve to vent !! it’s okay anooon ! lastly, i think chisa cares very deeply about those close to her. she gives a lot of advice to people like hajime and chiaki, who have their own struggles. plus, she’s not afraid to give sakakura a piece of her mind when he flies off the handle a little bit. in general, she’s also rather consoling of and friendly with munakata. even koichi, a big part of their relationship is how they encourage each other to do their best. chisa also tried to dispel nagito’s self-demeaning comments, which is... definitely a feat. even if chisa does have a lot of close friends and students who she’s on good terms with, a lot of her deeper thinking and planning happens when she’s alone. plus, even she could get overloaded by trying to overcome too many people. and just for a bit of spice, INTJ’s and chisa both are very idealistic and active about this idealism. plus, they also have strong beliefs and are unwavering on them, enjoy helping others(but need space to recharge), understand the good and bad in the world and want to make it better. i’m keeping them coming, chisa also has the traits of being very sensitive to the needs of others, being very creative, and being focused on the future.

and lastly, from danganronpa another, i match you with...

setsuka chiebukuro!

like the other two, this part contains spoilers of danganronpa another 2. though yoruko kabuya is a close second! to start off, i think setsuka is definitely easy to get along with. she’s very good at holding up a conversation and making other feel welcome, and maybe your presence is similarly welcoming or warm! she’s rather laid back, even in the killing game, so i think that you would definitely be similar to her outside of that dangerous situation. plus, i’d absolutely call her outgoing too! she doesn’t hesitate to talk to other people, and is the main moodmaker of the group. that’s her biggest concern in the killing game, honestly! maybe you’d also be more focused on calming everyone down and uniting other people, in a situation like that. plus, i think she is also pretty pda heavy! she tends to refer to the rest of the cast as kids, taking on a more mature demeanor. she also does a lot of hugging and head pats, and isn’t afraid to get in the water to swim with other people. if i’m right, she physically pulls sora, yoruko, and the others into having a pool and costume party with her. if she doesn’t she’s at least pushy- she knows how to get other people in a good mood and doesn’t hesitate to do so. this is shown with the parties she throws, how she organises everyone to meet at the satsuki land parade, just in general. she tries really hard, and i think you can also have a very active kind of moodmaking ability! she’s very charismatic, and maybe you relate to her more joking and easygoing attitude! from how you talk, it seems like you can make people feel relaxed just by being around you. and honestly i kinda love that? like, toss me some chillness pleeeez i think that she can find it easy to get her way, too. while more stubborn characters like hibiki and nikei she can’t get through to, that’s typically because they refuse to let her. even so, when she directly confronts hibiki’s closed off attitude in chapter 2, she manages to break through her cold facade. even if that’s just a little, she is ultimately the biggest factor in getting hibiki to warm back up to the rest of the group. she is rather truthful, though i think she can doubt herself at times too- i’ll get into that later. she can lie at times, like keeping nikei’s secret of his voice status, though this is like the others where she only lies and hides things when necessary.

next up, setsuka is also rather emotional. she clearly shows concern for all of the group members, and is willing to take on the role of everyone’s big sister for their sake. like, her entire role in the game is making other people happier and more at ease in the killing game. i just... that’s it. she also hides her distress and discomfort, however. whenever everyone’s showed their motive video in chapter 3, setsuka is obviously very upset by it, but she regathers her resolve and encourages everyone to keep going in spite of this. the only person who has the same amount of composure as setsuka puts on is sora, and sora’s motive video did essentially nothing except confuse her. it’s clear that she doesn’t want to stress anyone out, and puts a strong emphasis on the needs of other people. it’s obvious that the two of you care very deeply for your friends, and want to keep them safe. she also tries to help everyone whenever she can, as she tries her best to be helpful during trials, and as we just went over she’s very devoted to being a moodmaker. a lot of the rousing, invigorating speeches and words in the game are given by her, and through her actions she also does well to keep everyone’s morale high. setsuka also has more private conversations with people one-on-one about how they can handle their own worries, hibiki being the prime example. however, like with the other characters, i also wouldn’t call her extrovert. she seems to love people yes, but a lot of her conversations are more meaningful. it doesn’t seem like she talks to others just to talk, but she has clear intent whenever she does so. i think this makes her lean more to the introvert side. and finally, it’s MBTI trait lightning round time! INFJ’s and setsuka are both actively idealistic, want to make the world a better place, very happy to help others, need space to recharge, are sensitive to others’ feelings, focused on goals and the future, holders of strong beliefs, have strong imaginations, and want to get to the heart of issues so that people don’t have problems to fix. also, INFJ’s and setsuka both want to rule the world with kindness and love.

the show concludes...! here’s a word from our sponsors. from yttd, you also remind me strongly of joe tazuna and mai tsurugi, as well as lightly of nao egokoro, and anzu kinashi! from dr, you also remind me very strongly of kaede akamatsu, strongly of mahiru koizumi and ibuki mioda, as well as somewhat of aoi asahina, hiroko hagakure, yuta asahina and sonia nevermind. from dra you also remind me strongly of yoruko kabuya, and somewhat of akane taira, emma magorobi, haruhiko kobashikawa, and satsuki iranami! also, this is just based off of vibes, but you also remind me a little of hibiki otonokoji and shinji kasai.

ehe... i’m sorry, i feel like there are a lot of minor matchups... especially from only three(technically 7, but) games... but i hope this matchup was still helpful..! thank you so much for requesting, once again...

#kin matchup #yttd kin #your turn to die kin #dra kin #danganronpa another kin #danganronpa kin #dr kin #✿ they don't want this kind of ending! / anon #♡ ultimate cosplayer! / request finished #alcohol mention #smoking mention

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mystech-master · 4 years

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A while ago, I made a post discussing my thoughts on Nu and Lambda, in it I also described why I personally can’t ship them, even if I also said you could do mental gymnastics to ignore the Saya clone stuff (read it to understand what I mean).

But, they aren’t the only ones to have this issue; What about Noel and Celica, two more MAIN characters who have a similar issue in their storytelling.

I will go into that now, starting with Noel (beware possibly long-ass post)

Noel is one of the main characters, and one of the most important characters in the setting (to many fan’s displeasure), so of course she is highly tied to the MC Ragna, even getting a lot of shippy moments with him. This is in spite of her being a Murakumo.

Now in my Nu and Lambda thing I said that b/c Ars Magus is weird and not an exact science and seem to be made from Saya’s soul not her DNA you could do mental gymnastics to ignore that and make the shipping okay. Could you do that with Noel? I say NO.

Not only is Noel MUCH closer to Saya (seriously put a picture of her next to young Saya from flashbacks and she looks exactly like what she’d grow up to be), but she is also apparently made from the largest chunk of her soul.

The games seem to go along this thought process with her:

Noel is a Murakumo -> Noel is not human -> Noel is a weapon -> cue angst

but the fans have the thought process of

Noel is a Murakumo -> Murakumo Units are clones of Saya -> Saya is Ragna’s sister -> Murakumo Units are clones of Ragna’s sister -> they are Ragna’s sisters.

This gets even more stupid once Izanami comes in and we learn SHE is Saya, not Noel (her being an amnesiac Saya would’ve made things much easier), because then it is like “See, Noel isn’t Saya, THAT’S Saya!”. Also Blazblue has a while thing about roles, like Ragna has ONE little brother and ONE little sister: Jin and Saya, respectively. But fans say he can have multiple little sisters but the story doesn’t because “roles” or whatever (using the weird stage terms that Rachel and Amane use).

Like, here is an idea I had for CS’ plot with more emphasis on Noel actually being Saya rather than just a clone/copy, or at least more focus on her connection with Ragna to HAVE that sibling instead of just taking the “I am not human” thing from the Murakumo:

They escape from the Cauldron at the end of CT, and Ragna now gets a god look at her, maybe he does think that this IS Saya, and you can have a bit of an emotional scene here, but Noel runs off b/c A. she is still shy girl and a MAN is so close to her, and B. this is still the SS-Class Criminal Ragna the Bloodedge. A bit of angst there because Ragna supposedly thought something horrible happened to Saya (based on a flashback in CF with Jubei).

Much, MUCH later, he can meet up with Noel again, before she is kidnapped by Terumi for the final act of being the Godslayer, maybe with Makoto there. This is where they can actually talk and bond for a bit so Ragna has an actual reason to go running off an saving her. This is where Ragna can explain his little sister to the two, maybe thinking that he got Noel confused for Saya since she looks just like her.

But, then they start piecing together everything. Noel has weird memories of Ragna, and she has amnesia from before the destruction of Ibukido after the Ikaruga Civil War. SO, what if Noel IS just an Amnesiac Saya who has trauma induced amnesia from the Ibukido stuff? This is great for Noel because all this time she might also be worried about her humanity after the shit with Nu in CT’s true ending, and maybe a cryptic line from Terumi/Hazama, but now with this information, she reaffirms that she is HUMAN, she has a family (imagine the reaction when she learns that major dickbag Kisaragi is her big brother). We could then maybe cut back to someone watching them cryptically commentating, and when we cut back Noel is in the middle of telling Ragna, her newly re-discovered big brother, about what she’s been up to, her adoptive family and her time at the Military Academy. Maybe here we could also have a gag reel where, like a later one where they try and help Celica improve her sense of direction, Ragna and Noel cook something. We get some fun-sibling time and get to see Ragna’s cooking hobby in semi-canon action. He’d call her Saya, but everyone else calls her Noel since that’s what they know her as (think of it similar to how Vegeta calls Goku by his Sayan name “Kakarot” while everyone else just calls him his Earth name).

THEN we have Terumi come in and kidnap her.

Rachel stops Ragna from running after them for cryptic warning BS, then the fight with Jin, then the fight with Terumi, etc. everything happens the same from there. Only it isn’t some random stranger who Ragna all of a sudden is risking his life for, this is the little sister he lost so long ago.

Then comes the shit with Izanami. One idea that had was that Noel IS still a Murakumo AND Saya, but she is Saya’s good half fragmented off when Izanami was made. Izanami is one part the Origin’s Drive and one part Saya’s Darkness. So Noel breaking off from Saya is kind of like M.Bison from Street Fighter removing all the good from his soul to use Psycho Power, resulting in Rose.

Then in CP, we can have an extra layer of conflict because Noel is trying to save Tsubaki, who points out that she is affiliated with a wanted criminal, Ragna the Bloodedge. Remember, Noel just wants to be a normal girl with a normal life. She already has the issue of her humanity with being a Murakumo, but then you have the more societal BS of being related to a super criminal. She cannot be “normal girl“ Noel Vermilion, AND friends with Ragna the Bloodedge, SS-Class Criminal at the same time.

Tell me that wouldn’t all be a really good alternative.

Also being able to refer to the three MCs as “The Siblings” is just so much easier.

and then we got Celica A. Mercury.

she flops back and forth between, Ragna’s mom, and Ragna’s love interest.

Celica A. Mercury in Blazblue Chronophantasma, is well, a Chronophantasma. A copy of someone who isn’t supposed to be alive in the current timeline. Specifically, Celica is the younger sister of the Great Sage Nine, one of the Six Heroes who defeated the Black Beast 100 years before the setting of the games. the ORIGINAL Celica, after the Six Heroes were almost wiped out by Terumi, proceeded to become a nun/sister in a church built over the remains of the Black Beast’s corpse, as she has a unique Order power to nullify seithr. With her healing magic keeping her young and healthy she lived there alone until Jubei brought the three siblings, Ragna Jin and Saya, to be under her care for an undisclosed amount of time. This is where people get her being Ragna’s mom, even thought nuns/sisters are more just general caretakers instead of parents, but she is still a female maternal figure who looked after Ragna so you can see where people get that.

But then you get “teen” Celica, the one the games show in the story. She is from the Dark War, where she actually met Ragna first. Ragna was sent back in time, with Amnesia, to fill the role of the unsung 7th Hero “Bloodedge” and stop the Black Beast for a year allowing Nine to arm humanity with Ars Magus. Celica apparently fell in love with him because she is very affectionate and familiar with Ragna once she is brought to the future as a Chronophantasma.

The story really does ping pong between her being very motherly, specifically her scolding Ragna and Jin for fighting in CP, and just being a naive child, see her complaining when people get on her case about her awful sense of direction. But it is really hard because the image of the sister seems to flash over her, which the other characters seem to notice, but much like Noel and Saya, no one in the story EVER seems to connect the dots and have that change the relationship between them.

Now I personally don’t like the ship because she is a naive child in a woman’s body, with the stupid no sense of direction gag, to her scolding Ragna and Jin as if they were Natsu and Gray from Fairy Tail who are just fighting for some dick measuring contest when we all KNOW the actual reason is more complicated but the story just seems to abandon that and GGRRRR!!!

But, looking at Celica, really you can;t do the whole “Schrodinger’s Relationship” thing like they’re doing with Saya and Noel and the Murakumos. They need to COMMIT, to a role.

If Celica is Ragna’s MOM, no ifs and or buts, then 1. They need to make her less of a cutesy child. and 2. Maybe age up her design, Litchi has the design vibe of someone who is “older” than the cast, maybe something similar to that. Just imagine another angsty scene of Ragna meeting this woman who has the same face as the Sister who raised him who he KNOWS 100% is dead, so no mistaken identity shit like I already suggested with Saya/Noel, and her looking at him with her face is just MOCKING him, especially since his first two meetings with her in CP are after he gets his ass kicked (once after he is sent back in time after Nu kicking his butt, and once after Kagura knocks him out and arrests him). Also you’d have to undo ALL ship teasing in Phase Shift, or just use one of my friend’s ideas and just have Ragna be a reincarnation of Bloodedge instead of going back in time.

If you want Celica to be the cute girl love interest, and this is the option I feel most people would want either b/c shipping or the cute girl waifu factor that Japan likes (I base some of m reasoning based on “could this be made”, then you’d have to undo all connections between Celica and the Sister. My simple idea was instead of Celica living all those years she dies there, but Nine also had a bunch of other caretakers go with her to help take care of the church. I mean Nine is one of the Great Sages AND a member of the Six Heroes you’re telling em she wouldn’t use some of tat fame and authority to make sure his little sister is safe when she is all alone out there. Seems almost out of character with how fiercely protective Nine was of Celica. Of course this all means that the Sister that raises Ragna and the siblings is less important as she is just a nameless backstory character in a similar vein to Noel’s adoptive Parents, but is is a much easier thing to do than the previous option.

Either of those two options are good IMO, but I still think Celica needs to grow up a bit and release how much everyone around her is an asshole before I can fully ship her and Ragna.

So, what do you guys think? Noel being fully Ragna’s sister leading to much more interesting plot stuff, and Celica committing to either the cute girl love interest or mom role. I feel lkike my ideas are good, but what d you guys think?

#blazblue #my thoughts #noel vermillion #ragna the bloodedge #celica a mercury

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twilightvolt · 5 years

Text

Twilight Thoughts (BEASTARS Episodes 1-4 Part II)

WARNING: SPOILERS IMMINENT FOR THOSE OF YOU WHO’RE DECIDING TO WAIT FOR NETFLIX TO RELEASE THE SHOW FROM PRISON. But hey, if you don’t mind, then let’s get this show on the road!

Episode 3: Inner Thoughts and Personal Secrets

Now THIS is the episode where I really felt invested in the characters. Like, there’s so many tidbits of info that I found that made me question a LOT about certain characters.

- Legoshi stopping Haru by putting a blanket over her saying that she’ll catch a cold and get bitten by the insects, while also nervously bolting out of there and slamming the door on his tail was so adorkable and gOD I CAN’T BELIEVE THIS BOI IS SO P U R E . Ngl I kinda was the same way in high school not long ago. Hell, his overall character so far is basically me in high school. And it’s crazy how much I can resonate with him, wolf problems aside.

- I think next they explained what the drama club was all about and how the auditions go. This actually gave me a huge amount of questions to consider. Like, Louis is the “perfect” leader, so of course he has something he’s hiding. But Legoshi just seemed so….normal. and they said they only accept people with unusual backgrounds. So….what’s Legoshi hiding?

- And speaking of Legoshi, I did notice he was much bigger than most of the wolves that went to the school. And the following scenes told me more things about him that went quick, but I saw it with the right fansubs considering others didn’t translate it well.

1. He says he cuts his nails, but the very next day they grow back like nothing happened? I was like “Iiiiiii don’t think wolf claws grow back that quickly.” I mean unless you’re a werewolf, but I don’t think were anything is possible in this universe.

2. It’s the first time someone treated him the way Haru just did earlier. So I guess he doesn’t know about intercourse? Or like, he does, but no one’s ever….come onto him like that? This one I might be reading wrong.

3. He notices just then that he’s happy. It makes me think he’s not used to feeling that emotion which makes me concerned.

They haven’t gone into his past at all these past 3 episodes. So literally everything about him before his second year of high school is a total mystery. Heheh, it makes me so excited to hopefully learn more in the later parts of the season.

- That scene between Louis and Legoshi was also super intriguing. As Legoshi talks to him with his hand gestures (Also something I do. Lol), it looks like he’s studying his movements. Idk why, but I guess maybe he’s watching his hands cuz his claws are uncut? like, he’s sensing the danger levels?

- He pushes him to try and bite him (Yeah, I know.) But as his fangs are coming down, I notice there’s a reflection coming off of them. So I’m not sure if Louis’ expression changes because of his herbivorous instincts kicking in to let go of him or because he sees himself and is reminded that he is in fact an herbivore and shouldn’t be doing this cuz he could get hurt. He’s also jealous that he can keep his carnivorous tendencies so suppressed apparently. So maybe all of this is just him feeling frustrated that he’s not doing what he was born to do?

- This episode’s ED i think is my favorite so far. it focuses on Legoshi’s internal struggles with his instincts. the song i think i like more than Le Zoo, the first ED, but the visuals really nail the thoughts going on in his head. or maybe this is just my inner edgelord coming through. lmao

Episode 4: Real Idiot Hours

Ok, this one was certainly the craziest one so far. I’m still reeling and i feel like this episode was not only super emotional, but also it went so damn fast that i barely could think about what was going on. Lmao

- Now, my initial thoughts about Bill were “Oh, is he gonna be the big lovable idiot? D'aww, look at him quoting Louis. He’s such a dork!”

- Legoshi still being adorable cuz he has to be on stage, but he doesn’t want to so he hides behind the board. ;w;

- He’s been in this club for 4 years? Huh….and this whole time, he was able to get by like this. As an introvert. Guess things can change pretty suddenly.

- Then my opinions on Bill quickly changed when he decides to go all out against Legoshi in their rehearsals. I was like “Hold up dude! Calm the frick down with that stick!” But then realized it was cuz they were both carnivores, so he must think he doesn’t have to hold anything back. Which I guess is understandable.

- But then he’s talking with Louis later and it just feels like his personality is so….flip floppy. Like, one minute he’s all “Hey buddy! Let’s do our best!” and the next he’s seriously hurting my boi! Oh, don’t get me started on that scene. We’ll get to that.

- Legoshi sniffs him and finds out he has a bottle of bunny blood in his pocket. I was like “Oh….O h n o . O_O’” then he says, while it’s not from a student, it was from an upperclassman….but Haru’s an upperclassman, so Legoshi gets super pissed. Understandable, but I’m sure it’s a misunderstanding.

- He says he can’t say anything since he drew blood from her too, so I was like “Why not tho? It’s not like you killed her.” But then I realized maybe telling him he drew blood in the first place would be bad, so I guess there’s that.

- Anyone else think the blood thing was a parallel to drugs?

And now we get to the second night of the play. Oh boi….w o w .

- Watching Legoshi just…..snap and start beating the crud out of Bill on stage hurt my heart. It was also a stupid move on his part, but the emotions must’ve driven him more than his rational thoughts. He did look really badass in that getup tho.

- His screaming when he really started getting into the beatdown hurt the most. Like, oh lord. You can really feel just how much he really cares about her deep down.

- Then Bill stops him and uhh…..dIGS HIS CLAWS INTO HIS BACK AND GIVES HIM A HUGE GASH. HE H U R T . MY B O I .

I do think Legoshi was overreacting. I do think he was taking it too far. But nOSEBLEEDS AND BLACK EYES CAN HEAL. SCARS CAN’T. YOU HURT HIM, YOU HURT ME, DAMMIT.

Though….after awhile of thinking about it….I remember that line he says as he’s getting scratched. That the blood that’s coming down is the same as Bill’s. A carnivore. Something that he’s trying so hard not to be. Maybe he was partly beating the hell out of him cuz of what he’s done, but also beating the hell out of himself in a way. If that makes any sense. Like, I can imagine that scene was basically him using his fists to yell at himself like “I’m not like you. I don’t wanna be like you. Shut up!”

- Louis saving him from getting even more scarred like “Oh not today, bish.” was SO badass. Quite a master at improv, I must say. he even just walked on stage without his crutches no problem. he was like “Broken leg? Hahahah, that’s cute.”

- Him giving Legoshi his hand and telling him that he’s right was interesting as well. It’s like he was saying “It’s ok. You can stop now. You did the right thing.” Like, as if he finally understands why Legoshi is who he is. this week’s ED sequence focuses on their relationship too btw.

- Also, I started bein’ like “Ooooh, he gon’ get it now.” Cuz he knew about the blood, so it looks like someone’s getting cut from the acting team in the next episode. :^)

In fact, this episode is probably gonna spawn multiple consequences for everyone involved. Bill of course cuz blood, but Legoshi might get seriously punished for what he did as well. Louis miiight get a stern talking to cuz he wasn’t supposed to be on stage, but that’ll probably be the extent of it. i mean y’all gotta remember they’re high schoolers here. i’m sure the school staff definitely won’t let this slide.

After all this, I’m still wondering why everyone wants to push Legoshi into being more carnivorous. I guess maybe it’s just something he has to learn to control rather than suppress completely? But like, why? It’s his choice to be who he wants, right? Why can’t he live in peace? but then again….this is a prime example of why he should learn. when he can’t control his emotions, he becomes extremely dangerous to not only himself, but the people around him. he could actually kill someone with his kind of strength if he’s not careful. someone smaller than Bill at least. maybe it’s not good to just push it down….

*Sigh* hoo boi, that was a lot. as you can see, this is quickly becoming one of my favorite anime. and it’s only been like, 4 episodes. if this is what it’s like NOW, i can only imagine what’s gonna happen in the rest of the season.

See you guys next week hopefully when i talk about episode 5 once that drops! ^ ^

#rambles #twilight thoughts #anime talk #did i ever talk about the show's ost?#i initially didn't pay much attention but it's actually really good #might have to look it up sometime!

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homieswithhades · 6 years

Text

BTS Analysis;

I don’t even know if I can call this an unpopular opinion bc I know some people agree with this, this is more of an in-depth analysis and personal experience I guess. It’s all about bts... and its lowkey a mess. I apologise in advance for any grammar/spelling errors, and times I may contradict myself a bit. This is something that REALLY bothers me. I just want to clarify that I love bts a lot, and that I was the HUGEST STAN for a good 5ish months. I still stan them but not as much due to the following reasons.

They just don’t make good music anymore. They love yourself era was when everything turned to shit. The actual core love yourself concept is very good but,,,, it was executed really poorly.

Dna was my first comeback with them, even though I’ve been listening to them since august 2016. But when actually became a stan in April 2017, I was obsessed with them. I was so damn excited for their September 2017 cb that my standards were through the roof. During the summer they changed the logo and did the beyond the scene thing,,, that’s the first thing that kind of irked me,,, and then they did the highlight reels in the style of I need u and they were redeemed.

When love yourself her started promotions and teasers, the bar was higher than the person who edited the DNA mv. The concept pics were so unfitting??? And just lacked that aesthetic element. I dint like them at all,,,, and the album cover was,,, below standard and looked rushed and lazily designed. But when serendipity came out I loved it (and I still do) so that fuelled my expectations for the music, even though they weren’t really that damaged by the odd first impression of the album. But then DNA came out and???? I was so disappointed?????? The beat was so annoying,,, the mv was so ugly,, the outfits were ugly,,, the lyrics were weird. In other words DNA was just a straight up flop... I hoped the rest of the album would have been better but,,,, it really, REALLY wasn’t.

After love yourself her I lost a lot of interest in bts. I missed their old music so much, and I was genuinely upset over it. I didn’t follow them as closely as I used to. I started to joke about them with my friends who lost interest in bts before me, but I still missed the old bts so much. The whole Ellen show thing, all the western media like Buzzfeed and Billboard making vids and articles about bts, all the rigged award shows, it pissed me off bc they were getting famous in the US bc of their worst album that didn’t display their full potential at all!!!!

Imma just go out and say it, armys are one of the most toxic fandoms ever.

Sometimes they’re just plain disrespectful and starting arguments where they don’t belong. I wouldn’t be able to count how many times I got attacked on Twitter, Instagram and even in the YouTube comments for expressing a different opinion. I remember all the fan wars and scandals. All the mobs at airports, All the times k-fans and i-fans tried to ruin another groups reputation (I’m not saying other fans never did this, bc it was always a thing, but it was never this extreme.) and the fuckin credit card thing oh my god,,,, a huge shitstorm caused by one fandom that lasts for years on end.

When bts got really mainstream, and gained more young western fans, they really ruined bts even further for me. Not to mention all the cringey tweets and memes, they hurt to look at. I absolutely don’t mind the “you got no jams” meme or the “ExCuSE mE” one, bc theyre just pure goof from the members, but when armys took it and overused it, that’s when it started to get annoying.

Some armys genuinely think bts is the only kpop group and that the world revolves around them. They comment “annyeonghaseyo any armys here???!!!” in the most unexpected places, I deadass saw someone on my overwatch team playing quick play with the name “army.FOREVER.saranghae” yall do realise it costs 10$ to change ur blizzard username, right?

Some armys also don’t respect other kpop groups in older gens (or any other ones for that matter) and assume that bts broke through into the western world themselves, which is complete bullshit, without groups like bigbang, shinee, tvxq, shinhwa, h.o.t, seo taiji boys etc etc (and other ones I don’t know of rip) kpop would have never gotten into the western world.

I never identified as an army bc I knew they were cringey bc of my friends who were HUGE armys back in 2016 and low-key koreaboos, and I knew what the bad stans looked like, so I never associated with them, and just called myself a bts stan. But the whole western situation just got so goddamn worse. I was sick of the Americans plaguing bts for me.

I also wanna say, I know not all armys are toxic and cringey. And I respect the level headed and chill Armys, yall are doing it right.

Moving on from Armys, I noticed a change in bts themselves. Namjoon changed his stage name, which absolutely sent me. I understand the meaning behind it but for some reason I felt that he did it to be fake deep? Or woke, and that he tried to completely cover-up his past self. The other members became cocky and were always draped in all that ugly Gucci and designer shit. I knew they were being forced to act the way they were acting, bc I know them well. I know how they really are. I know that they’re good people. I know they’re very humble deep down. They had that special connection with their fans before, that made u feel like u were good friends with them, and they absolutely ruined that. They’re being forced to put on this fake image to impress you filthy Americans.

I still stan bts atm. But I stan them for their old music and the people they truly are, not who they are portrayed to be. I can’t remember when euphoria came out, but I was kinda annoyed they tried to incorporate hyyh prologue into their shitty concept. And the song was also annoying and too edm-ish (like most of their new songs, idk why their style completely changed). Anyway, when tear came out, I was still kinda off the bandwagon, and I saw the concept pics and I was surprised at how nice they were. I saw the album cover, which was still ugly but better than the previous one. Then Singularity came out and!!!!! I loved it a lot. And then fake love happened. Oof is all I have to say. But some songs on the album, were actually good. Like the truth untold, paradise and OUTRO TEAR. Outro tear will remain the best song in the love yourself trilogy.

I also feel that I have to acknowledge that for all the love yourself albums only the intro and outro were genuinely up to standard (except outro answer).

Then came love yourself answer and idol. When I found out they were collabing with niki minaj I lost it. The concept pics were ugly once again, it was supposed to a controversial comeback???? And??? It wasn’t. I’m honestly glad it wasn’t promoted.

I noticed a repetitiveness with songs on answer. The beat was off with the singing. It was all just a mess. I also noticed the amount of godddamn auto tune in the songs (eg, mic drop, fake love, idol, airplane pt.2 and others I can’t remember atm) all of bts’s old songs all sound unique and different, and they all had this “emotional” element to them, to elaborate on that, compare dna, fake love or idol to save me, I need u or young forever. Notice how dna, fake love and idol convey absolutely no emotion through the lyrics or the actual beat of the song, unlike save me, I need u or young forever, that literally have more sentimental/emotional value in the few English lines that are in the song then all of the lyrics in their 3 new title tracks combined. I think this is my most difficult point to explain bc different songs make people feel different things, but it’s no doubt that you can tell the difference between a song that’s made to appeal to the masses with no unique properties to a song that coveys deep emotion (whatever the emotion may be) through the beat, the lyrics and the sound of the vocals/rapping alike. Listen to intro nevermind, and then listen to go go and just try to tell me that im wrong.

Alos, bts seem to have incorporated auto tune into songs, especially on their vocalists. bts don’t need the auto tune bc they’re good vocalists. Also, I have to mention, the vocal line isn’t the “best” per say. they’re good vocalists but it’s nothing special. Seokjin is the best vocalist period. Jungkook’s voice is generic, and in recent songs he has been straining it to reach the notes. Taehyungs voice isn’t even that special, it’s just deep, and it only really suits ballads and R&B songs like singularity or butterfly. Jimin has a very nice voice, but again, it’s nothing extraordinary. I feel that Jin has the most vocal potential, and he doesn’t get to show it, he has this really unique voice, idk what it is about it that just??? I really love it. But to clarify, I’m not hating on their voices or saying there untalented, because they’re very talented, but most of vocal line gets too much credit. As for rap line, I think they’re one of bts’s strongest points. Namjoons style is so smooth and just overall good? It amazes me that he rapped so well over the years with a breathing problem. Hoseok is a good rapper too, his sound is unique and his adlibs add to that uniqueness in older songs, as for Yoongi, I genuinely think he’s one of the best rappers in the industry, it’s not about the speed element, it’s about his flow, his power, his emotion, everything about his rap is just amazing.

Now I wanna talk about the member’s individual popularity. The maknae line has the most stans, and quite frankly, their stans are the worst. Treat all of the members with the same love and respect. Sure, it’s perfectly fine to have a bias but to disregard the other members is just plain wrong.

Bts are human beings, first and foremost, and then there musicians second. They’re being made into media puppets and clout bait, which they absolutely don’t deserve. They deserve recognition for their good stuff, which they have PLENTY of.

All in all, I’m sick of the American attention. It’s cringey, annoying and unnecessary. Sure, bts deserve recognition but not that much of it!!!!!!

And they were being recognised for the wrong thing for fucks sake!!!! I didn’t like ANY of the new songs on answer. I only liked epiphany. And then I found out it wasn’t written by any of the members. Rip. Fans will unfortunately blindly follow, stream and like whatever they put out like blind sheep because it’s accustomed to them, bighit KNOW that they’ll make more money in America. They know no matter what bts put out, no matter how shit it is, fans will like it and itll be revenue for the company. And all the mobile games and the bt21??? Was so unnecessary?? Capitalism amirite? Quantity over quality. It’s the sad truth.

Armys tend to mix up criticism and hate. Although there is a very thin line between the two, there is a difference. Criticism is the analysis and judgement of the merits and faults of something. Hate is blind and unjustified. Hate is disliking something for no reason, or for a very invalid reason. So for example, saying; “I don’t like this apple because its bitter and im not a huge fan of bitter things” is fine to say, unlike, “FUCK THIS APPLE BECAUSE ITS BITTER, FUCK ALL APPLES” you know? It’s okay to dislike a group. It’s NOT okay to hate on a group. No one’s is going to gain anything by hate.

So, all the youtubers are reacting to bts for clout, the fandom is a fucking mess, armys are attacking other fandoms for no reason, the members lost their TRUE humbleness and neglected their real personalities and they’ve put out 3 overall bad standard albums over the course of a whole ass year.

But I still have this spark of hope for them. Why? Because I love them, they have a special place in my heart. I know they have the potential to be amazing, unique and just overall good people with their own personalities, and truly special musical abilities.

After their tour I honestly, really hope the attention dies down and they put out another good, original, album like the hyyh albums, with nice concepts, good songs, and a pleasant to look at mv. It’s really all I ask for. The old bts. I know I’ll never get them back, and I absolutely cherish their old stuff, like the bulletproof logo, bangtan boys, rap monster, hyyh, young forever, no more dream, wings, them all goofing around together and not caring about their image, their wholesome interactions with fans, and all the songs and concepts and theories that never have, and never will be recognised.

On a final note, I realise I can’t blame bts themselves entirely for this. This stuff is only partially “their fault”. Its bighit’s fault, the army’s and haters fault and the media’s fault. But, America is to blame the most. That’s all for today.

#delete

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batwake · 6 years

Text

Living Room Song - chapter 3/12

No one new ever moves to Derry, Maine.

The worst day of Eddie Kaspbrak’s life is the day someone does.

read it on ao3

chapter 1 - chapter 2

The last time Eddie had a crush on someone, he was thirteen and had a broken arm.

Bill Denbrough was just about Eddie’s favorite person in the world, with his soft auburn hair and blue eyes and hands that felt like home. Bill had a way with words, still does, even with the stutter. He could’ve asked Eddie to throw himself in front of a moving train and Eddie figures that he probably would. That’s how Eddie ended up in Neibolt with the other Losers when they were just preteens, barely old enough to think for themselves yet. It really shows, thinking back on it, getting separated and making other stupid decisions. When he’d fallen through the floor and broken his arm, Bill was the first person at his side and the last one to leave it later, a comforting hand and familiar gaze. Even when Mike had taken him back to Sonia in the basket of his bike (had he really been that small?), Bill made sure that he was right there next to him, reassuring him as he pathetically cried.

That was just the beginning, too. Bill’s name was the first one on the cast, Bill xoxoxo written in his curly handwriting, a card a few weeks later signed the same way. He carried Eddie’s school stuff and didn’t care that it made him late to class most of the time, and walked him home after school, because Eddie couldn’t ride his bike with his cast like the others.

In Eddie’s undeveloped mind, it was practically true love. A gentleman with a sense of humor and a cute stutter? Every handsome man in Sonia’s cheesy rom-coms that Eddie had drooled over while growing up was replaced with Bill in Eddie’s dreams.

Eddie moved on, eventually. When they got out of middle school and everyone started thinking about girls and dating and other things that Eddie couldn’t keep up with. Bill and Mike and Ben drooled over Beverly when she finally joined them, albeit, they kept their composure around her better than all of the other boys at school. This was bonding time for Eddie and Stanley, both of whom did not seem so interested in the idea of high school romance. Stan liked birds and that’s about it; Eddie liked a lot of things. He just kept quiet about it.

Realizing he has a crush on Richie Tozier feels a little different than it did with Bill.

Having a crush on Bill was like turning on a faucet slowly, watching the drips become a trickle and the trickle become a steady stream. Richie makes Eddie feel like a broken tap, the kind where you twist it and the intense spurt of water comes out all at once, soaking everything in a two foot radius. It happened all at once, like jumping from the cliff at the quarry, Richie’s hand clasped tightly in his. One second Eddie is standing safely on the ground, and the next he is submerged underwater, feeling overwhelmed and like he is drowning in his feelings.

There’s a lot not to like about Richie. His stupid clothes, sweatshirts that aren’t his and hawaiian shirts that hang loosely on his skinny frame and other oddities that are too many to name, his shitty sense of humor that mostly consists of your mom jokes and obscure knowledge that only he gets, and his insistence on calling Eddie by nicknames that do nothing but annoy him.

Eds, Eddie-Spaghetti, Spaghetti-Man-

Countless others.

“Eddie is already a nickname, dumbass,” he had said once they had retreated to the rocky shore of the quarry, basking in the sun and pretending they weren’t looking at each other. “I don’t need another one.”

“No one needs a nickname, that’s the whole idea, Edward.” Richie had reached over and pinched Eddie’s cheek playfully, leaving pink in its wake. “Do you think that Vlad Tepes wanted to be called The Impaler?”

Eddie still doesn’t know who that is.

Richie makes Eddie want to scream into his pillow.

On his birthday, when Richie had dropped him off as the sun was setting, Eddie had marched right up to his room and had done so. Screamed until his throat was raw and he couldn’t speak anymore; his mother had made him stay home from school the next few days, sure that he had strep throat. Eddie would rather be sick than have a crush on Richie fucking Tozier.

When he returned to school two days later, The Losers made fun of him perilously, and even with all of his best efforts to avoid Richie, the other boy had still laughed and told Eddie every blowjob joke he had in his repertoire. Eddie had wanted to yell some more, but settled with hitting Richie in the arm, then on the side of his head.

Eddie stares at the back of Richie’s head, not listening to Mrs. Wakeman drone on about the medulla oblongata. From what Eddie can see, Rich isn’t paying much attention either, making funny faces at Betty Ripsom, who is in the desk next to him.

“Mr. Tozier, can you please answer the question?”

Both Eddie and Richie startle; Eddie coming out of his daze and Richie turning to look at Mrs. Wakeman, who is at the chalkboard expectantly.

“Lowest part of the brainstem,” Richie answers, grinning wide and confidently, sticking up his chin like Eddie has seen his siblings do on multiple occasions. A few other students in the class snicker, clearly not having expected Richie to answer correctly. Eddie feels strangely proud.

Mrs. Wakeman does not seem so entertained, handing Richie a yellow slip of paper. “That’s correct, Richie. Unfortunately, you’ll still be seeing me in detention.” With that, she returns to writing on the board.

Eddie is forced to quietly watch as Richie takes the detention slip and shove it in his backpack unceremoniously. He knows this isn’t even Richie’s first detention this week, but he still feels a little bad for him.

The bell rings a few minutes later, Richie is up and gone before Eddie can even put his notebook away.

It takes some sweet talking, but Eddie is able to convince his mother that he can ride his bike without driving it into the nearest highway. Sonia likes Bill, though, so as long as he is there, she figures that Eddie will be okay.

“What’d you t-tell her?” asks Bill, raising a hand to wave at Mrs. Kaspbrak, who is watching the two teenagers from the living room window. Bill returns his attention to the tires of Eddie’s bike that he is currently pumping air into. “I-I mean. What changed?”

Not much, Eddie thinks. They’re still popping antidepressants instead of breaking the eerie quiet in the house, Eddie refusing to talk about what happened, and trying to pretend that things aren’t different, Sonia making dinners that he used to like or saving the comics in the paper. So, Eddie says, “she thinks I’m getting better,” instead of, “she hopes I’m getting better.”

Bill stands up and wipes his hands on the front of his jeans. “Sh-she should be a-all good now. Good as n-n-new.”

The bike had gone unused all summer. Eddie had enlisted Bill’s help to fix the unused gears and fill the tires with air. Bill just came with the extra bonus of helping Eddie get away from his mom. “Thank, Bill. We meeting the others at the barrens?”

The pair walk their bikes down the driveway, Silver looking sleek and clean next to Eddie’s dusty old bike.

“Yeah. Ben wants to make sure the d-dam is sturdy enough b-b-before it gets t-too cold to go down there.”

Once down the street from Eddie’s house, the boys get on their bikes and start heading towards the barrens. It’s not a long ride, typically, but Bill seems intent on going slow. Eddie doesn’t mind that much- he’s still getting used to being back on his own bike. Still, he has known Bill long enough to know that something is on his mind. He opens his mouth every couple minutes, then closes it, as if second guessing what he is about to say.

“You okay?” Eddie asks, finally, tired of glancing over at his friend to find him looking back with that stupid look on his face. “Is it about my m-“

“No, no,” Bill reassures, looking away from Eddie and straight ahead at the road they are crossing. “I’ve just… been th-thinking.”

“That’s new.”

Gravel under his bike crunches as Bill stops, Eddie soon after. Bill doesn’t usually act this way, especially around Eddie or the other Losers. “What’s-“ Eddie starts.

Bill cuts him off. “I’m going to break up with Beverly.”

That's not what Eddie was anticipating. He was half expecting an intervention. “O-oh,” he stammers, “okay.”

A shaking hand cards through Bill’s auburn hair. “I l-l-like someone else.”

Eddie doesn’t see where he fits in this equation. He stays silent, his hands still tight on the handlebars. Bill likes someone? Who isn’t Bev? They don’t even really know any other girls, except-

“Uh. Thanks for telling me?” Eddie says, cutting off the annoying voice in his head. His voice sounds weak, despite his best efforts to force out something confident and true. “When are you going to…”

This seems like the wrong thing to ask. Bill sighs, shifting his hands on Silver so he is leaning on the bars. “I don’t f-fucking know, thats the p-p-problem. I l-love her, but n-n-n…”

“-not like that,” Eddie finishes when Bill can’t. “Right.”

Bill laughs but there isn’t really any emotion behind it. “Right,” he agrees.

They kick into emotion again, the air surrounding Bill less tense, although they are both lost in their own thoughts.

Who could Bill, his best friend, possibly like? Beverly seemed like his soulmate, the end-all be-all.

Eddie searched through his memory, trying to recall girls that Bill had mentioned. Betty Ripsom and Greta Keene both come to mind, both sharing multiple classes with Bill. And Margo Tozier, who is like Beverly in many ways and too much like Richie in others. Margo and Bill have chemistry together.

Wrinkling his nose, Eddie pedals faster so that he will pass Bill and get to the barrens as soon as possible, his head reeling with thoughts of girls and crushes and the Toziers.

They reach the barrens, where the other Losers wait for them. Bill and Bev greet each other with smiles and kisses, and walk away from the boys towards the dam with their hands held. Stan looks at them with just as much unease as Eddie does.

Ben, Stan, Mike, and Eddie follow their fearless leaders, anyway.

If Eddie thought that Richie was a mystery, his brother was a complete enigma.

Mike was quiet, didn’t say much unless it was a sarcastic response to something Mr. Mauro or another student had said, but sometimes gave Eddie these looks, like he was in on a joke that Eddie wasn’t. Mike always looked kind of pissed off, his expression only softening while talking about his siblings, which he did not bring up often. Eddie was usually the instigator of said topics, wanting to know more about the odd trio. Margo was always happy to talk, but never seemed so interested in her brothers. Richie doesn’t talk to Eddie in class.

“What’s it like, being a triplet?” Eddie asks one day, avoiding Mike’s gaze and sketching a graph into his notebook. He mentally checked to make sure the sine curve crossed through the origin, Richie’s scolding tone coming to mind. “I can’t even imagine what having siblings is like, much less being a triplet.”

Shrugging, Mike types something into his calculator, then writes something in his own notebook. “I dunno, I’ve never known anything different.” There is a brief moment of silence while Eddie waits for Mike to continue. “I couldn’t imagine a life without them.”

“What are they like?”

“Richie and Margo?

“Yeah.”

Mike plays with his hair for a second, staring straight ahead at the chalkboard at the front of the room, thinking. Eddie focuses on his graphs while he lets Mike think, then startles when nearly five minutes later, he does.

“We share everything. Clothes, food, the womb, you name it. It’s like we can read each others’ minds, even. We eat our food the same way and have the same taste in music, and you can’t find one of us without the other two.”

Eddie looks at Mike, abandoning his wretched calculus work, and taking him in. Anyone with two eyes would be able to tell that Richie, Mike, and Margo are triplets, all of them with the same hooked nose, black hair, and freckled cheeks. Eddie had noticed, whenever Richie takes off his glasses for a moment or during one of the rare moments where Mike is smiling, they look almost indistinguishable. Richie’s face is just the slightest bit thinner, his hair just a little bit more curly, and his legs and arms longer and pointier. Richie talks loudly and smiles a lot, whereas Mike is quick to annoyance and wears a permanent frown. Eddie imagines that Margo is the perfect mix of the two, talkative and feisty and friendly.

“We’ve grown apart, since we moved. It’s mostly Richie.” Mike’s voice is so quiet that Eddie has to lean in to hear him. “He doesn’t tell us very much anymore.”

This surprises Eddie. The few times he has been around the three of them together, Richie seems perfectly normal. Perhaps Eddie doesn’t really know what normal means, when it comes to the other boy.

“Why not?”

Something crosses Mike’s face before it is blank again. “You don’t need to hear about our family problems,” he says, sounding like his sister, “It’s pretty stupid anyway.”

Eddie forces a smile onto his face. “I doubt it.”

He does; The Tozier’s become more and more elusive with everything that Eddie learns about them, which isn’t very much. The three of them all seem so alike yet still so different, everything about them pulling Eddie in for more. He thinks of Richie’s smiling face, and jumping into the water, and listening to music in the car, watching the sunset. They had felt so close, that night, even if they hadn’t really advanced their relationship any more. Eddie knew Richie’s favorite songs. Richie knew Eddie’s birthday.

It was something.

“I can see why he likes you,” Mike says, breaking the silence.

Eddie whips his head to look at Mike. “What?”

A rare smile sits on Mike’s lips. “Richie. You intrigue him, I think.”

“Intrigue,” Eddie mocks and rolls his eyes, hiding the excitement that is bubbling up in his stomach and chest, “how nice of him.”

Mike holds his hands up. “It’s not like he tells me shit. But he talks about you.” Mike, as if sensing that Eddie is hanging on to every word, adds, “maybe I’m reading him wrong. I’ve only known him my whole life.”

Students around them start putting their textbooks and papers away into backpacks or folders, waiting for the bell to ring. Eddie and Mike join them, quiet once more.

Richie likes him. Richie thinks he is intriguing.

The bell rings, so Mike stands and says bye, Eddie, flooding out with their classmates. Eddie stays in his desk, trying to supress the grin that is spreading across his face. He laughs a little to himself, not bursting into fits or anything that would label him as crazy once more, but enough that makes him cover his mouth and squeeze his eyes shut. He lets himself have this moment, thinking about the cute boy who is interested in him, too. Eddie could scream.

He is eventually kicked out of his seat by the guy who sits there in second period, but the smile does not leave his face until he is in Mrs. Quing’s room, long after Margo has asked him what he’s so happy about.

————————

There is a picture of the triplets that sits on the counter in the kitchen of the Tozier household. They’re in the bathtub, bubbles surrounding them and their faces. The back of the picture reads Michael, Margret, and Richard, 4years old and was taken by their father as Maggie desperately tried to keep the three of them still. You can even see her hand- set atop Richie’s head in the way that only mothers hold their children, restricting him yet still allowing him to shove bubbles in his sisters’ face.

The photo itself is quite silly, with Richie wearing Wentworth’s glasses on his tiny face, even in the bath, Margo’s face full of bubbles and a wide, open mouthed smile that Richie put there, and Mike shown mid-scream, tears running down his face.

Margo swears she can remember the picture being taken, and how afterward she recalls Mike elbowing Richie in the face and knocking out one of his teeth and sending it down the drain.

They weren’t allowed to bathe all together after that incident.

Photos like that one remind Richie of a time when they were their own best friends, no one else understanding them quite like their siblings did. But then Mike and Margo got competitive around middle school and Richie never got the memo.

Moving to Derry was a fresh start for them. Richie couldn’t pretend he didn’t have siblings and Mike couldn’t avoid them and Margo couldn’t hide from her brothers. The apartment is too small to hide away in different rooms and ignore each other. Even Wentworth is claustrophobic, his paperwork spread throughout the apartment instead of just the tiny space he used to use in the kitchen when they first moved in. They’re making do with the things they have, the four of them, so Richie can’t find it in himself to complain too much. Who cares if they never have hot water because Margo uses it all? Who cares that he can’t sleep because Mike snores? Who cares, who cares, who cares.

(Not Richie)

Distractions are nice.

One evening, Richie goes out onto the fire escape and finds Beverly Marsh in his usual spot, a half smoked cigarette between her pointer and middle finger. Richie has gym with Beverly, and knows that Eddie is friends with her, but has never spoken to her. He is about to turn around and book it back to his apartment, deciding that he can open a window in their bathroom and smoke in there, when Beverly looks over at him.

“Hi,” she says, her tone almost mocking. “You’re Richie, right?”

Richie’s box of cigarettes feels heavy where it rests on the inside of his palm. Beverly’s presence feels a lot like Margo’s; she sits up straight and holds herself with authority, although the green overalls and lopsided smile and cigarette speak an entirely different story. Beverly’s eyebrows shoot up and disappear almost entirely underneath her mop of orange curls, then her mouth closes. “You’re quiet. Do I have the wrong brother?”

There is a moment where Richie processes what has just been said to him, then, “Oh! No, you were right. I’m Richie. We have-”

“Gym. Yep.”

More silence. Richie gestures to the door he had come through. “I’ll just-”

“Don’t think you’re getting away that easily. Come sit.” Beverly pats the stairs next to her. “Besides, it looks like you have a fresh pack of cigarettes just waiting to be shared with me.”

Richie sits, glancing down at the rows of steps below them, leading down to the empty lot behind the apartment building. There isn’t anyone else outside at that moment, but Richie can hear cars driving through Derry every once in a while, and people yelling from the neighborhood that is just barely visible from their spot on the fire escape. He can even hear music, playing from a window that Richie is fairly certain is his bedroom.

“You’re quiet,” Beverly says, bringing her cigarette to her lipstick stained lips. “I swear every time I see you no one can get you to shut up.”

Getting out his own cigarette, Richie laughs lightly. “You’ve caught me at an off moment, Miss Marsh.”

Beverly holds up her lighter once Richie sticks his cigarette in his mouth, leaning in close and lighting it for him. She smells like smoke, of course, but also like honey and strong perfume. Richie likes it.

Once it is lit, Beverly pulls back, propping her arms up on the stair a step above where they sit. She hums, then says, “tell me your woes, Mister Tozier.”

Richie laughs, leaning back like her and crossing one leg over the other languidly. He sees no reason to lie to his new friend. “I like someone.” Smoke rises between them with the silence, Beverly waiting for him to continue. “Normally I would tell Mike or Margo but… We’ve grown apart, I think.”

She nods, like she gets it, brushing curly red hair behind her ear and gesturing vaguely with the hand holding her almost burned out cigarette. “I’m an only child, so I can’t relate, but I do know that if I were your siblings, I’d want to know what’s going on in your life.”

That isn’t the first time Richie has heard something along those lines, all three of them received plenty of therapy over the last couple months, but it sounds better coming out of Beverly Marsh’s smoke filled mouth. The sun is setting, casting the two of them in a soft yellow glow, Beverly looking almost ethereal.

“Are you my guardian angel?” Richie teases, taking a heavy drag and looking at Beverly with what he can only imagine is love in his eyes. She snickers into her own cigarette, rolling her eyes and nudging Richie’s leg with her sneaker covered toe. Beverly opens her mouth to say something, but the window Richie came out of slides open, a black haired head sticking out.

Margo peers down at them, her long hair cascading out of the window a little. Her green eyes move between Richie and Beverly a few times, before settling on her brother. Beverly is taking her in as well, her cheeks bright pink.

There are a few beats of awkward silence before Margo finds the words. “Dad brought home dinner.” Margo states matter-of-factly, looking once more at Beverly before retreating once more, leaving the window open behind her.

Sighing, Richie stubs the cigarette out on the metal of the stairs. “See you in gym, Beverly Marsh.”

Beverly lifts a hand in goodbye, sending him a half-smile. “You owe me a cig, Tozier.”

Crawling back into the window is a feat with his gangly legs, but he manages, grinning to himself as he returns to the apartment, Eddie Kaspbrak on his mind.

Smoking with Beverly becomes a regular thing, skipping gym to smoke outside. Beverly gives great advice, and Richie likes to hear her talk about her friends. Whenever they skip they leave Ben behind in the gym, so they make an effort to stay once in a while to keep him company. Richie likes Ben, finds him funny and smart and kind of adorable. He could probably beat up Richie while holding Beverly on his shoulders, and Rich would thank him.

It is a cold thursday in October, Richie and Beverly leaning against the brick wall with their knees pulled up to their chests and passing a cigarette between them, when Beverly drops the news.

“You know my boyfriend, Bill, right?”

Richie thinks. He does not have any classes with him, but is distantly aware of seeing a tall auburn haired boy who is often with Eddie and company. He used to drive Bev to school, if he remembers correctly, but Richie started doing it once it became more convenient. Bill.

“Yeah, I think so.”

“I’m gonna break up with him.”

Richie’s eyebrows shoot up, disappearing behind his fluffy hair. He leans away from Bev, staring at her. “What? Why?”

Beverly pulls at some of the yellowing grass that pokes through the cracks in the concrete. “I like someone else. We’re best friends, nothing will change that, but…”

“Feelings changed,” Richie finishes, frowning.

Sighing, Beverly stubbs the cigarette out on the concrete. “Yeah. Something like that.”

Just as Richie opens his mouth to say something else, something vaguely comforting, the school bell rings. Richie scrambles to get up, pulling Beverly along with him. Beverly is off to history, Richie to psychology. With Eddie.

Ben opens the door to let them back into school, just like he does most days they’re outside. “Thanks, Handsome,” Rich says to him, patting one of his arms. Beverly follows, the three of them heading in the same direction to their next classes. Bev begs Ben to tell her some of the questions on the history test that Ben has already taken, but he keeps his mouth shut tight. Richie wonders aloud how Ben does it.

Richie watches the way Ben and Beverly interact with each other the entire way to class, occasionally jumping in for a joke or a laugh in the conversation so he doesn’t seem out of it. Beverly is a head shorter than Ben, even more so than Richie, looking up at Ben with glittering eyes. One of her hands is always on his arm while they walk.

He hasn’t known them for very long. Maybe he’s reading into things.

“Hey Eddie!” Beverly cheers, waving as the boy in question comes from the opposite direction of the hall. Eddie waves half-heartedly, eyeing Richie beside her, who grins and hurries to walk into class beside him.

“What’s up, Eds?” Richie tosses an arm around Eddie’s shoulders, forcefully pulling Eddie into his side as they enter Mrs. Wakeman’s.

Eddie gags and pulls himself away. His face in scrunched up adorabley, nose crinkling and eyes glaring.“You smell awful. Smoking is terrible for you.”

Richie sniffs at the collar of his t-shirt, then shrugs. “Beverly Marsh is a terrible influence.”

Eddie looks like he might laugh, for a moment, then rolls his eyes. “Whatever you say, Trashmouth.” Eddie leaves then, moving to his own seat towards the back.

Dumbfounded, Richie sits down in his own seat, wondering if his own face gives away his feelings.

It is a rare day where Richie is not stuck in detention, forced to sit in his car for an extra hour after school as he waits for Mike and Margo. The parking lot is empty, cleared out immediately after school got out almost fifteen minutes ago. Richie smokes, his feet propped up next to the steering wheel and his hand fiddling with the radio, too lazy to reach for one of his cassettes.

Bret Michaels’ voice sings thorn for just a second as Richie passes the station, but quickly flips back. He grins, leaning back in his seat and taking a long drag of his cigarette, playing air guitar along with the solo, tapping his shoes against the dashboard to the beat. He sings around the cig in his mouth, belting, “I listen to our favorite song, playing on the radio, hear the dj say loves a game, of easy come and easy go” and waving his arms dramatically. He sings along to the chorus just as loud, every rose has its thorn coming out with the smoke Richie inhales before continuing to sing. “Yeah it does!” he says to himself along with the song, rapping his hands against his thighs.

The sound of a door opening and closing from the school makes Richie sit up, wondering if Mike got out early.

Even better, Eddie Kaspbrak is walking out of the school, his shorts adorable and backpack full of books. Richie lights up, tossing his cigarette out his open window and putting the car in drive, pulling out of his spot and driving up to the sidewalk next to Eddie.

Richie can’t hear him over the music, but when Eddie sees his car pulling up he stops and mouths something that looks suspiciously like jesus fucking christ. Richie leans over the seat and rolls down the passenger window, wiggling his eyebrows at his new companion. “Heya, Spaghetti-man. Your chariot awaits!”

Eddie eyes the car, his eyes flicking to the radio that is no longer playing Poison, but instead Diana Ross. Richie wonders if he is thinking about the last time Eddie was in the car with him.

Seemingly making up his mind, Eddie stands up straight. “I can walk home, thanks.”

Richie rolls his eyes and finally reaches forward to turn down the radio, not in the mood for a ballad. “Oh come on, Endless Love doesn’t put you in the mood to jump in here and ravish me?”

“Beep beep.”

“It’s getting too cold for you to walk home in those shorts, don’t you think?”

Eddie’s hands move to his shorts, which just cover the very top of his thighs. He tugs them down self-consciously, covering the thin white lines against his tan skin. He huffs and opens the door, like he is getting in just to shut Richie up.

Richie cheers, pulling out of the Derry High parking lot.

“Where are-”

“Mike is at AV Club and Margo is running.”

“Oh. You wait for them every day?”

“Usually I have detention so we’re all busy. I was a perfect student today, though.”

This makes Eddie laugh, for some reason. Richie laughs too, tapping absently on the steering wheel. Uncomfortable with silence, Richie launches into some story about something that happened back in Hawkins. Eddie is a good listener, Richie thinks, commenting and laughing at all the right times. Richie even pretends to miss Eddie’s street, just so he can finish the story and keep Eddie in his presence for just a minute more.

When he pulls up to the curb, Eddie stares up at his house, then looks straight forward, unmoving.

Richie just waits, humming along to what is playing on the radio now. Eddie breathes in deep once, twice, then opens the door and swings is bag over his shoulder. “Thanks, Rich. See you at school.”

Richie doesn’t get to say bye before Eddie is shutting the door.

#reddie #richie tozier #eddie kasprak #it 2017 #it (2017)#reddie fanfiction #shut up mary

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apotheosisocean · 6 years

Video

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The First Music Video I Directed. When I was still in college and was so engrossed with looking for great music to feed my soul; I was slowly appreciating video production and how they made music videos. Being an art student opened my eyes to the process of making such art. From preproduction to post production. It’s not easy at all. The concept for the music video had to somehow match with the message OR make you feel somehow.

I wanted to make those kind of stuff but the kind of work I got in the past few years were weddings, behind the scenes, corporate work and a few events. It was not until I got a stable job that I thought maybe I can pursue making a video on a few bands although it’s going to be difficult to find one to let me shoot a music video for them. Nowadays, there are plenty of people who are well equipped and more experienced than me so I sort of gave up on that idea and thought maybe I could do a band profile video instead. I thought to myself, “It’s easy! All I have to do is shoot, compile, interview and edit!” but I was wrong.

The First Move

I reached out to my favorite band, Tonight We Sleep, and asked if I could help promote them with their upcoming EP. It was a long shot. I didn’t have anything to show except for my demo reel and the promise that I can make a video out of the “shoots”. I had no concrete plan on how it was going to look like. It will depend entirely on what I have. Then I got a reply! I think my offer wasn’t accepted immediately. I gave pegs first on what I wanted to achieve and eventually after a series of exchange, they allowed me to come and check out their recording. It was surreal. I felt so small. Haha ‘cause they were those adults you see in movies. I wasn’t sure if I could really keep up with the language, the knowledge and everything.

I don’t remember the number of shooting days but there were plenty. I also went to their gigs and I was really thankful they put me and Ferlyn in the guest list. Surreal. I never thought I’d get that kind of pass. I had plenty of struggles trying to finish the band profile video and yeah it was difficult but worth it. They were really happy with the final product and for me, I thought it was the end. I was OK with it because, I already did something I wanted with the band I wanted to create art with.

The Gears in Motion

But after a few weeks I got a message that Argee and I would discuss the preproduction of his solo project I Belong to the Zoo. He said we’d make a music video for a new song he was going to release around May/April. I was excited and at the same time nervous because it felt like a big responsibility that I wasn’t ready for.

We discussed the concept around May and polished it after a few days. Then we looked for talents. I pitched a few but Argee found a pair he really thought would fit in the video. After that, we discussed with the talents what they should wear and also the locations of the shoot. It was a run-and-gun type of shoot by the way. No permits. Hahaha I’m not proud of it though but we had to work with what we had. Before the day of the shoot, I had to go to my former bosses’ house to rent a Zhiyun Crane 2. It was already 11PM and when I got back to my apartment, it was already 12MN. I had to learn to balance the gimbal for the first time. LOL

The Actual Shooting Day!

Ferlyn and I went to the first location early so that I could practice using the gimbal. Hahaha I know right. So, it was only when Steffi (Lead Girl) arrived that I started to get nervous because I wasn’t sure how to talk to her and since I feel a little tired from last night’s errand. Argee arrived a few minutes later. Before 11 AM everyone was there and we already started with the shoot. One of the memorable things that happened was when we discussed how the actors would act in certain scenes, the continuity and the blocking. When the first scene was done we moved on to find a decent street to shoot the scene where Steffi opens the gift. It was a bit difficult to shoot that one because of the inconsistent sunlight but we managed.

We then moved on to the scene where they had to go bowling. We almost weren’t able to shoot the bowling scene because they thought we had a big setup and had to call the manager in. Good thing Argee knew how to talk to them and make them feel at ease. He said “Trip lang namin na magtropa etc” something of that context. We were assigned the last lane because all lanes were occupied. The employees said to not include other guests playing in the video but I guess it’s ok if they are blurred. :D

The next thing was Satchmi. The coffee shop was kind to let us film without any permits and all. We just asked through their Facebook page and said just go shoot. When we arrived it was so cool there and we just acted casual while we were shooting. Parang magbarkada lang na may taga picture. So far it was the most difficult for me because I think my lack of sleep was kicking in. Ferlyn stepped in to help me direct and shoot. While she shot the scenes I had my shot of coffee and that made me even more talkative which helped us push through with the remaining scenes.

The most challenging scene for me was the one at B-Hotel, we had only limited sources of light and we had to work fast to get all the shots within the day. The rest of the remaining shots after the “room scene” was Steffi walking around at night and Steffi and Carl in the backseat. After that we were done.

It was around 1AM when we finished and everyone went home with a smile on their face. It was the most memorable shoot this 2018. I remember everyone laughing every hour and having fun discussions about the shoot and other related stuff. It was the best. Simply the best first MV experience.

#I Belong to the Zoo #Sana #Music Video #Indie #Art #Film #Cinematography #IndiePH #Cinematic #Sanasinabimo #SanaMV #Manila #BHotel #PaengsBowling #Tonight We Sleep #Hugot #Pag Ibig #Third Party

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sogurikur · 7 years

Text

POTA - Garrett & Ceryl, Round 2.

Here’s the other RP log from our PotA campaign. As before, Ceryl is mine, Garrett is @b-e-m-l-t‘s NPC.

This thread was more narrative and serious than the last one.

To say that Ceryl felt tired would have been an understatement -- he had been tired before in his life, from a long day's journey or a hard day of work, but never like this. Their encounter with the medusa and whatever other entity had spoken to them in those depths, and their arduous flight back to Summit Hall under the darkened sky, had sapped him down to his soul, it felt like. The genasi knew he should take his rest while it was available -- their time was shorter now than it ever had been, and the world waited for no man -- but he couldn't. Not just yet. Instead, it was that shortness of time that weighed on Ceryl like an anvil, and pulled him towards the barracks the moment his words with Ashir had ended.

Bone-weary as he was, whatever energy he could spare as he weaved through paladins and priests in the halls went into presenting himself as at-ease, calm and collected as he always was. It was a ruse that could not hide the shadows gathering under his eyes and the sagging of his shoulders -- but a necessary ruse, all the same. Ceryl had come to realize, in recent days, that people expected him to always be the level-headed and cool one. With the world ending outside and everyone's hope resting on the shoulders of the three of them, they couldn't afford to see him break down or not have his shit together. So he gave a half-hearted smile as he made his way into the barracks, sparing a moment to check in with Seta before heading towards the man he sought.

His father wasn't exactly easy to miss, after all.

"Garrett," Ceryl said, by way of greeting. "Got your hands full here, it looks like, but can you spare a minute?" Or an hour, he thought, though he half expected the man to dodge him again.

Though he had made himself scarce whenever in a room with the lord commander, there was no Ushien Stormbanner ruling the barracks to make him shrink against a wall. He was indeed hard to miss. While clerics and initiates bustled around, tending to more than just their unconscious guest, serfs and townspeople still reeling from Beliard, Garrett stood stock still. He was not a healer, he couldn’t tend to the Feathergale Commander, but he could do something as well as any Paladin.

Behind a hastily put up sheet to shield Thurl from view, Garrett stood stock still a few paces from the end of the sleeping man’s cot. Healers had cleaned and closed wounds and left the Red Lance to stand vigil, and he did so. He hands were folded close to his chest, holding his longbow on end. Two arrows were clasped ready between his fingers. Garrett remembered what had been said of the man in the bed. He would take no chances, not after the last time Felsi, Ashir, and Ceryl had been at Summit Hall. A hundred pounds of force travelling all of eight feet quicker than a breath would end any trouble before it began.

He didn’t look up at first as the genasi approached. He quirked a brow, then turned his head when the voice registered to a face in his memory and he tipped his chin up, lips pressed tight. “He’s not waking up any time soon. What do you need?” He angled his head towards a stool against the wall, occupied by a healer not long before.

For just a moment, Ceryl couldn't help but catch himself staring at the man before him, as he moved past the cleric into the space behind the makeshift curtain. It dawned on him that it was the first time he'd really seen Garrett in his element, or something akin to it. Not putting on an act of being bawdy and drunk, nor cowed underfoot of the lord commander, nor hunched behind a table and scrolls. No, here the man looked like the war cleric that Ceryl knew him to be -- straight backed and at attention, not unlike a chess piece himself. What else was his father really like, he wondered, ringing true to what he'd come there for.

Then his mind registered that yes, idiot, the man had asked him a question -- so he shook it off and ran a hand down his tired face.

"Oh," Ceryl said, started. "No, I don't need anything, it's not that. I just wanted to speak with you a bit."

Nearly the moment he was behind the sheet and out of sight from the rest of the barracks, whatever shreds of his ruse still remained melted away from him. It was just him and Garrett now, so there was no need -- well, and Thurl, but that one wasn't likely to notice. Still, though Ceryl looked like he sorely wanted to just fall upon the stool like a ragdoll, he stopped just before it -- and turned to look at Garrett as though asking for permission to stay.

"Look, I know we agreed to hold off on talking until all this is over, but--" But the sky is black, and the world is ending. But I just watched my friend cut off his own arm, and we aren't even finished yet. But this may be the last chance we get. Ceryl managed to push back those thoughts and wrest up something resembling his usual humor. "-- ... Well, things have changed now, haven't they?"

Garrett had pointed out the stool that Ceryl took for just the one reason- so he could keep both the genasi and the dormant knight in his eyeline. And somehow that was easier, giving a place for his eyes to fall when looking at Ceryl somehow became difficult, and the moment words left his mouth, it did.

“Things have changed now.” Garrett agreed. His hands tightened on the tip of the bow, fingers unfurling and recurling on the arrows he grasped. The first time Ceryl had come to him like this, and indeed the second, he might have wished for someone to gift him with a hundred pounds of armour piercing bodkin point steel, if only for a quick exit. But that was childish. Time among other clerics and stoic paladins had reminded him that pretense was only so useful, and its use had run out that first day back in Red Larch.

“I thought I'd hired in three casual mercenaries who'd go into this Valley and find all those people camped out in bad weather.” His brow creased as he looked at some point in space between himself and the foot of Thurl’s cot. “They said I could hire myself an army if I wanted. That'll teach me to choose restraint I suppose.” He remembered himself and let out a laugh. “Of all the times I could have chosen to stick to the fucking doctrine.”

Garrett patted the emblazoned red steed on his tabbard by way of apology to the Knight, and finally glanced back to the genasi sagging in his seat. He looked tired. And Garrett couldn't decide if the man looked anything like him or not.

“Let's talk then.”

For his part, as Ceryl near collapsed onto the stool he'd been offered, Thurl may as well not even have been there at all. He spared a glance at the unconscious knight -- the clerics had certainly done a better job taking care of the man than he had -- before his eyes found their way back to Garrett and stayed there. The genasi didn't seem to have the same problem that his father did, instead paying rapt attention to Garrett, as though he was afraid he might miss something if he didn't. Somewhere dimly in the back of his mind, he knew he was probably making the man uncomfortable. Still, he watched.

And he listened. Ceryl had come there that night -- was it night? -- for honesty, and yet had expected it to be largely one-sided. Getting truth from Garrett over the course of the mission had felt like pulling teeth at times, so it was a surprise to hear the man being so frank now. The genasi wasn't sure if it made him feel better to hear Garrett speak of the mission that way, of the should haves and could have beens, and almost started to argue -- after all, if he'd thrown them unknowingly into the fire, so had everyone else. The Harpers had sent him in blind and dumb -- and here Ushien did have half an army, and yet allowed the three casual mercenaries to face horrors in the dark alone all the same. But the 'let's talk then' chased all that away in a heartbeat.

"All right, then," Ceryl said, shifting to sit more upright, but his whole brow creased and he seemed to flounder for a moment. "To be honest, I'm... not actually sure where to start. I don't know anything about you, or who you are, and--"

He stopped himself abruptly, suddenly realizing how childish he sounded and felt, voicing aloud these concerns he'd had for some time now. Still he didn't look away, but gave Garrett a sort of defeated shrug. "I'm sure that seems like the least important thing right now, with everything going on out there. But if not now, then when?"

Looking at the sleeping man was definitely easier than meeting Ceryl’s pleading eye. The longer he glanced at the genasi each time, the more Garrett was able to realise-- yes, he did look like his father.

“You don’t need to play it down, lad.” He tipped his head just slightly. “I’ve no scrolls to write or people to run off and see.” And that was a truth. The infirmary was growing quieter as the minutes passed, the sag of more than just Ceryl’s shoulders giving away the late hour of the day. “Don’t worry about how a thing’s going to sound, just ask it anyway. The only ones we need explain ourselves to are the gods.”

He pointed a figure upwards, and at last looked over to the younger man. “I’m a Red Lance. Not the only Red Lance, but I’m not bad at the job.” His brow creased even as the corner of his mouth twitched. “I wage a good war and I shoot a fine arrow. Shame those weren’t what’s needed here.” He lifted his chin at Ceryl. “There. That’s a start, isn’t it?”

It's the comment about the gods that causes the first break in Ceryl's focus -- for the first time since arriving, he glances away from Garrett and an odd unsure look passes over his face.

Still, it was fleeting, and the genasi's eyes were back on the man once he began to explain himself -- he truly did not want to miss anything. And it wasn't long before Ceryl was arriving as the same conclusion that his father was. Before, when he'd stared, it was to judge reactions, but now that he was really looking, he too could see the resemblance. It’s the nose, he thought, but the moment Garrett's forehead wrinkled, the genasi had to stifle a smile. There really was no denying it.

The later comment is what gets a genuine reaction out of Ceryl though, a dry and incredulous laugh. "Are you kidding? Those are exactly what's needed here. I wish you'd been with us the last two times we've been down there." It's out of his mouth before he's really registered what he's said, but he pressed on all the same.

"But yes," he says. "It's a good start. The Lord's Alliance dwarf from the delegation, he said--... Well, he said they dread it when you show up because you're called in when things are serious. Is that true?" He paused, tapping his fingers together in thought. "And that can't be all, I assume you're not just a Red Lance." It was a statement laced with implications, but the genasi wasn't sure how to breach that topic just yet.

Garrett drummed his fingers around the well-worn end of the yew bow he held, filling the moments it took him to compose an answer and decide to abandon anything he constructed anyway. He frowned fully at the sleeping form of Thurl.

“A Red Lance isn’t a lot of things, lad.” He pressed his lips together. The three of them had witnessed well enough. Ushien, paladins, and now that damned dwarf, they’d all had few things to say about Garrett and most weren’t a shining review. “I’m a strategist more than a warrior. Asking you to go and flush out that earth cult, sending you into the valley as our back up plan. Hell, even the delegation to begin with was a strategy to make sure I never have to turn up at anyone’s door again.”

He abandoned the train of thought, unsure where it would lead, and finally glanced at Ceryl. “People don’t like me turning up because when I’m right it means they can’t do whatever they want, and when I’m wrong…” He looked to the window and muttered something fluid under his breath in Elvish, before speaking in Common again. “When I get it wrong, the stakes are very, very high. I have a lot of responsibilities to fulfill but Red Lances believe in following fair rules to do it, nothing more than that.”

The half-elf shook his head and looked back at the unmoving charge. “I don’t know if I could have saved that boy’s hand down there, Ceryl, but I’m starting to figure out what the Red Knight would tell me to do next, unyielding wench that she is.” He patted his tabbard again fondly. “Pray, and carry the fuck on.”

If there was any skill Ceryl had cultivated the most over the years, it was listening -- oh, how many nights he had spent sitting around fires, absorbing others' stories and committing them to memory. So, as Garrett spoke, the genasi listened to every word -- though he managed to look a bit chastened as the man went on. Ceryl had a feeling he might have hit on a poor subject, though in truth he'd only meant that Garrett seemed to have more importance in the world than even his son thought. Still, he listened, and did not argue until the man was done.

"You can't blame yourself for all of this going wrong -- it's on us just as much," Ceryl said, and it was spoken not a plea, or a play for pity. Only a fact. The genasi's eyes drifted to the window as well, at the blackened sky, and he shook his head. "We were close -- we could have stopped that medusa's ritual, I think, if we'd been a little faster. If we were any good at strategy. I guess-- " He cut himself off then, seeming to debate what he'd started to say, and a frown darkened his face -- looking so dour did not sit well upon a face so accustomed to smiling. "-- ... I guess it was meant to happen. But you're right, there's nothing to do but keep going."

At that, Ceryl tore his gaze away from the window, and if anything he seemed to deflate further where he sat as he looked back towards Garrett.

"You know, a week ago, saying that wouldn't have bothered me?" he asked the man, gave a wry grin that held absolutely no mirth. "You heard me last time -- things happen for a reason, things always have a way of working out, and so on. I've always thought that, and it's been true. Hell, I still don't think learning about you now was a coincidence. But this shit out there..." He lifted an arm to gesture at the window, before folding them both across his chest. A moment of silence passed before his brow furrowed again, and he looked at his father thoughtfully -- and near reverently. “How did you find your faith? Was it when this all happened before?”

The way the genasi spoke pulled Garrett’s eyes from the prisoner- ward, patient, whatever he was- and though he didn’t meet Ceryl’s eye he returned the courtesy and listened. But that look in the young man’s eye when he looked to the Red Lance made him turn away again.

“Just because you’ve seen some some shit doesn’t mean you’re suddenly wrong, if that’s what you believe.” Hell, at least the kid believed something. Anything. Garrett shook his head, but the corner of his mouth lifted. “I don’t have a sermon for you, kid. You’ll have to wander down the hall for that.”

He sighed though, and his shoulder shrugged with the gentle knock of plate armour.

“I had all kinds of faith as a kid, more than I probably should have. But this?” He knocked the hand holding arrows to his chest, to the red knight, and held it there. “There was no Lord’s Alliance back then, not like it all is now. People fought each other for the pettiest shit and I was a kid that thought if everyone was gonna fight, then they should at least fight fair.

“I yelled about it a lot, so some old Red Lance trains me up and it all kinda fits. Maybe it was coincidence, maybe I was just yelling loud enough for a god to hear. Maybe,” he pointed toward Ceryl. “Maybe it was meant to be or some shit like you said, I don’t know. But when this happened the last time, it happened fast. I had a god who could help me make my choices, that’s all they do. It’s different this time but there is still time. Different people are fighting now. Different choices.”

As though he’d realised how long he’d been speaking, quietly and looking at nothing in particular, he shook his head. “Shit, take this with a heap of salt, kid. One boot doesn’t fit ‘em all.” He almost scowled until he realised the expression wouldn’t do anyone any use.

“How about this. When shit gets bad, someone’s usually listening.I found faith when I yelled about. When I asked for it. When you need it most.”

The sermon comment succeed to summon up a quiet laugh from the genasi, but otherwise as Garrett spoke, he simply listened once again. That time, though, Ceryl's focus seemed more distant -- his gaze remained on the other man, and yet he seemed to be looking through the knight rather than at him. And that thoughtful and reverent look still hadn't left his face. Everything Garrett said rang true, and yet felt utterly foreign at the same time -- how alike and unalike they were.

But Ceryl wasn't lost in thought enough to not be paying attention, and at the last bit, he nodded and managed to look genuinely grateful.

"So, just pray and hope for the best, then?" he asked, and accompanying it was the first genuine smile in some time. Tired, but genuine. "Here I thought you might have some secret wisdom for me. But no, I understand -- I think -- and I appreciate it. It hasn't been like any of that for me -- my parents were just simple folk, you know, not really the godly sort--" Ceryl stopped abruptly, once again realizing far too late what had come out of his mouth, and he cringed, and he closed his eyes, and he exhaled slowly. The genasi had adjusted to his newly discovered sire well, but somehow speaking of his... well, his real parents in front of his real father made his stomach turn into knots.

"Anyway," Ceryl continued a moment later, but it was his turn to avoid Garrett's eyes this time, staring at some point on the floor instead. "At most it was just... you say thanks to this god for the spring thaw, and you say thanks that one for a good haul, meaningless shit like that. For my part, I've always believed in fate -- sometimes I might even spare thanks to Istus. But that's not really the same as faith. How can I just... sit by and leave things up to fate with something like this? With all those people out there?"

It was the genasi's turn then, to realize how much he'd been rambling and going on about himself, and his eyes rose back to where Garrett was standing. "I guess it can't hurt to yell and see who's listening. Not for me, but for them."

Garrett made a face a little way through Ceryl’s words, at the name of a god, and when the genasi finished speaking he sighed and shook his head. “You know, those fucking fate gods. That’s a long wait for a horse that never shows up. People give them so much damn credit for the shit that just happens and--”

He took in a sharp breath and looked at Ceryl. Finally, properly looked at the genasi-- his son-- and met his eye. “You’ve got the right idea, Ceryl. Even the gods need people, they’ve got no one to meddle with or help or ignore if there are no people. Far as I’m concerned, you’re doing the right by keeping up with all this shit for people, not gods.”

The half-elf looked back at the sleeping man in the bed, and after a moment’s steadying breath he stepped back and sat heavily on a chair behind him. He set the arrows on the floor and propped the longbow between his knees and scrubbed a hand over his beard. When he spoke again, it was almost quiet, but a little of the brevity had returned.

“There’s always listening. That makes shit like this--” he gestured to the hall, to the paladins of Tyr, and the distinct lack of justice they had seemed to be dealing out in the valley. “--harder to see, because it’s not that their god’s not here. He’s just doing nothing. So fuck the gods, Ceryl. Believe in people.”

Shadowed and tired though they were, Ceryl's eyes widened at Garrett's initial outburst -- but it wasn't until the other man finally truly looked at him that the surprise bloomed across his expression. He'd gotten so used to looking at the side of his father's face, used to the man only glancing at him sidelong, that for the first few seconds, he wasn't even sure how to react. But he listened, and this -- moreso than anything else the man had said so far -- rang true to Ceryl, and hit close to home.

Even as the genasi watched Garrett finally stand down from his position and seat himself, Ceryl was quiet, mulling over that moment and committing it to memory. That sort of... validation from his father felt strange. Unexpected. He hadn't known he'd needed it until it had happened.

Ceryl was shaken from that when Garrett spoke again, and whatever mystified expression still remained on the genasi's face gave way to something far more warm. "I do believe in people," he answered immediately, and truthfully. "I really do. It's hard for me not to."

He hesitated, shifting on the stool to lean forward towards Garrett with his elbows upon his knees, seeming to weigh something in his mind before speaking again. "It feels... odd... talking about them here, but. When my parents found me abandoned, they had no reason to take me in. But they did -- everyone in that village did. Fuck, if I wasn't blue, I'd have never known I wasn't theirs, they cared for me so well." He folded his hands and tipped his head back to stare at the ceiling, thinking. "And I joined the Harpers because, aside from my family, my mentor is the kindest old bear I've know. Not a single person on this earth he doesn't receive like they're his brother."

For several moments, Ceryl didn't say anything else, only sat quietly and ran his thumbs over each other and kept gazing upwards, seemingly lost in memory. When he finally did speak again, he looked back to Garrett with an odd focus and a bittersweet look on his face. "There's a lot of shitty people in the world. But when there's people like that -- and like you -- that’s all that matters to me."

Garrett let his head rest back against the cold stone wall and for the first time watched Ceryl properly as the genasi spoke. Even when he was unsure, there was verve to his words. There was the occasional glance towards the unconscious bedridden Thurl, but for long moments Garrett didn’t tear his eyes away.

Until Ceryl had finished, and the half-elf lifted a gauntleted hand to point at the younger man. “There’s your faith, kid.” He closed his mouth and his brow creased as she looked at Ceryl a little longer. He gave himself no credit at all for the man sitting across from him, but something close to relief passed over Garrett’s face. “You’re gonna laugh and call me preachy but if you’ve got it, it’s always been there.”

He settled his hand back in his lap and smiled. “Hey, can you do me a favour?”

The longer Garrett stared at him, the more it occurred to Ceryl that no, it didn't feel strange to suddenly have the man's attention. It was a dose of reality to think he'd only known this man for a few days -- a few hours, really in their snatches of conversations between missions. Like his parents stumbling onto him on the bank, Ceryl really had no reason even to give a shit about the father that sat across from him now, staring at him. It would have been easy to ignore him, or resent him. But this, making peace -- he loved his parents, but this felt better than he'd ever admit aloud.

So Ceryl smiled right back, and gave a quiet laugh, and looked far less tense than he had when he'd first slumped into the barracks. "It hasn't always been there, I promise. But-- sure, anything. Ask away."

Garrett glanced around at the otherwise empty room, even on the other side of the sheet, a paltry excuse for privacy, the infirmary had quieted down in the very late hour. “Alright, small lie, two favours.”

The half-elf leant a little closer, because even if it was quiet, there were more reasons for a hushed tone than just personal conversation. “The next time you see Bjorn, tell him he sent exactly right person for this.” He narrowed his eyes. “Tell him he’s a shit because he sent someone who would remember exactly what I would forget about.” The people. The small picture. A human agenda, if all the races of the sword coast would pardon the phrase.

Garrett leant back to settle fully into his seat, and reached for the arrows again, balancing them across his lap. “Second thing, go the hell to bed, kid.” He smiled, the irony of sending Ceryl to his room not lost on him. “Get some sleep, you look like shit. We all do.”

Ceryl looked somewhat confused at the sudden need for secrecy, given the nature of the conversation they'd already been having at full volume. Even so, he leaned in close as Garrett did, his eyebrows creasing together -- and his smile turned into a full grin at what the other man said.

"Why am I not surprised you two know each other?" he asked, shaking his head. A whole conversation about shirking fate, and now this. Small world. "I won't tell him he's a shit, I love that man -- but I'll tell him the rest. I swear it."

It was the second request that the genasi hesitated on, making no move to stand and leave, even though he was weary to his core and knew very well that Garrett was right about him looking a mess. Not for the irony, which wasn't lost on him either -- but because, for all his fatigue, his mind was still filled with all the things he had meant to ask before the two of them had gotten carried away. It was a reminder that time was not on their side.

"As for the other one," he continued, still smiling but looking at Garrett somewhat more seriously. "I will, if you'll do me a favor too."

Garrett narrowed his eyes in a wholly feigned look of skepticism aimed at Ceryl. He drummed his fingers on his bow, and after a long moment of insincere hesitation, he smiled. He couldn’t wll deny Ceryl a request after the genasi had just agreed to two. And, also, the entire marching into a valley of death on his request.

“Alright, you’ve got me. Go ahead and ask.”

Not unaccustomed to putting on an act, Ceryl followed suit and mimicked Garrett by tipping up his chin and giving the man an overly exaggerated insistent look, with an unspoken 'you'd better do it' air to it. It broke the instant Garrett did, and he laughed quietly -- but then sat up straight again to look at his father in earnest.

"I don't know what's going to happen from here on," he said, his voice gone low. "Make sure this isn't the last conversation we have. And I'll do the same."

Though his smile was still there, a little of the mirth in Garrett’s eyes dulled at the words. “I can’t promise that one, and neither can you. But I’ll give it a go.” He was quiet a moment, before smirking. “Wait. we’ll both be around in the morning getting ordered around by Ushien. So I can promise that one. Now go on, go the fuck to sleep, Ceryl.” He lifted a gauntlet and beckoned the genasi out.

In truth, Ceryl had already known what the answer would be, even before he spoke the request -- Garrett hadn't filled his head with empty promises or platitudes through their conversation, and the genasi doubted he would have started just for that. But Ceryl still managed a laugh at the dig upon Ushien, and put on another act of bowing his head and looking scolded, like a child being sent to bed without dinner.

"Yes, father~" he crooned dryly, but when he finally went to stand, it all vanished -- he'd stopped paying attention to how exhausted he was until he had to haul his tired carcass upright again. With a terrible grimace, Ceryl swore colorfully under his breath. "Fuck me, I lied too, you can do me another favor and help me off this stupid stool."

With some effort though, he got to his feet and shuffled to leave, though he paused next to Garrett to reach out and clasp the man's armored shoulder. He said nothing else, and after a moment, he went on his way -- though he had one more stop to make before he could finally sleep.

#c: ceryl #writing #and this one's from july

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saffronandperi · 7 years

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How To Put Together A Voice Portfolio

If you've done voice work before, you can point us in the direction of your previous projects so we can give them a listen; but if you want to make it easier on us--we don't always have time to listen to long recordings--it would be helpful if you could create a voice demo to give us an example of your vocal range and acting ability in brief. If you've done voice work before, you can clip out various audio bits you've provided and mash 'em all together into a few condensed minutes. If you need an audio example of what I mean, check out Cam Clarke's demos. http://camclarke.com/demos/

But you don't NEED to have provided voices in other projects to put together a demo reel of your own. The same principal applies, you just need to record yourself acting and providing your range of voices.

Not sure where to begin?

I'll give you some suggestions on voices to cultivate, and lines to read.

Additionally, you can also read out passages from favorite books and comics.

And maybe you have some killer impressions you'd like to throw in as well.

BUT WAIT...!

Before I get into the meat of this post, I want to caution aspiring voice actors: never audition with a voice you can't comfortably sustain. You may be able to do a really cool or funny voice for a short amount of time, but if you're serious about voice acting you will likely be called on to use that voice for HOURS, and if it's not one you can sustain without it causing you physical pain, you could potentially damage your voice.

So always be safe. Your voice is your tool. Treat it well.

Voice Tone/Pitch Suggestions:

Aged/Old

Perhaps you're a wise old sage, or someone's grandparent; or maybe you're a crazy old cat-fancier, unmarried and living alone--you've reached a venerable age, and your voice has that thready, reedy quality.

“Why, back in my day things were different...we didn't HAVE all these doofangled gizmos and whatsits--we had to do everything by hand! A watch was just a watch, not some sort of weird communicator thingy like what you see in the movies nowadays. That was science fiction, not real life! Would you like a cookie? They don't have sugar, of course. It gives you cancer. It used to be all our cookies were made with real sugar, and you didn't have to worry about cancer! I don't know what this world is coming to...sugar cancer.”

Bubbly/Light

You're cheerful, chipper, possibly quirky, hyper, and your voice is certainly full of optimism and hope!

“Isn't it a glorious day? There's so much that might happen if you'd just let it! Adventures untold! Wonders unseen! Amazing things are in store for today, I just KNOW it. I have a really good feeling because I saw the sunrise and it was all beautiful pinks and golds--like something out of a painting. I bet the sunset will be just as pretty!”

Detective/Noir

You've seen the seedier side of life, it's made you jaded and cynical; your voice has a world-weary edge, as you've experienced it all and there's not much left to surprise you.

“She came through the door like a thundercloud, and I knew that soon lightning would follow. I could smell the ozone in the air, and there was a stillness like the calm before the storm. Any minute now the winds would pick up. I had a feeling my office wouldn't be much to look at after this beauty blew over.”

Geeky/Nerdy

You're very knowledgeable in a specific field of interest, possibly you have glasses, you may go on at length about the matters you're knowledgeable in, and your voice may have a tone of nasality or some other annoying trait.

“According to my calculations, if we take the question posed in citation A, and combine it with the theories discussed in sections B and D, completely bypassing C of course, we'll end up with a solution that is either brilliantly correct, or shatteringly false. So I propose that in the interest of being thorough, we should give each matter a weighty discussion that should only last us for, oh, say about 12 hours, before we adjourn for a quick mental time out, then we can come back to the problem at hand with fresh minds.”

Heroic/Noble

You're so good it makes regular people cringe; you enunciate well and your voice has a thespian quality that makes it easy to listen to, even when people have no desire to.

“I heard you ask 'where have all the good men gone? And where are all the gods?' I cannot speak for the men who have gone, nor can I tell you with any certainty that there's a god to hear us. But what I CAN tell you is that if we don't stand up for ourselves, if we don't take that first step, we will never move forward. We're all climbing that cliff, and sometimes we fall. But we don't break on the rocks below, because we have safety lines to catch us. We are, none of us, climbing alone.”

Pirate

Arr, matey! You communicate in pirate lingo and have that weird, not-Scottish accent that all pirates seem to have.

“Avast, matey! Stow the mundane phrases of yesterday in the hold with the bilgerats, we've got plunder to steal and grog to swill! Tell me lads and lassies--do ye want to be a pirate? Then what are ya bleeding waitin' for! All hands on deck and shiver me timbers!”

Urbane/Cultured

Perhaps you're the powerful CEO of an influential company; you very obviously come from money, and your voice reflects it with your smooth, unctuous murmurs that ooze sickening charm.

“Welcome to the Blackdirge Dungeon Offices, we're looking forward to doing business with you. We hope that you'll find our Denizens accommodating, but if you DO run into any problems, don't hesitate to come to the main office here to file a complaint. I find that the Denizens become too complacent if there aren't enough public floggings in a week, and we really must try to keep them on their toes. Excuse me a moment--Winslow, did you remember to reschedule my 2 o' clock appointment today?”

Villainous/Evil

You're BAD and you REVEL in it; you chew up the scenery, and your voice can basically have any of the aforementioned suggested qualities, except everything is tinged with a twisted darkness.

“Oh, to be as misunderstood as I am...! The names they've called me! It's unseemly and crass. After all, what is so evil about world domination? I should think with the way things have been going lately they'd feel GRATEFUL for me for finding solutions to their petty little problems. True, I did have to kill a bunch of people to get where I am--but you can hardly make an omelet without breaking a few eggs, am I right? Don't answer minion, just laugh.”

Feel free to improvise your own lines. All of that writing was completely off the cuff and I’m not a writer. I’m not going to talk about the acting aspect right now, because I don’t think I’m really qualified to be discussing it (I’m not a paid actor, so what do I know?), but just concentrate on playing with pitch, tone, inflection. And if you want an idea for an acting prompt, take one of those blank expression memes (there should be plenty on deviantArt, and try to fill it out with your VOICE. Read out something and see if you can portray the emotion the expression calls for. If nothing else, it’s a fun game.

~Sara

#voice acting #saffronandperi #voice #Voice Actor #voice demo #voice reel #voice portfolio #portfolio #Saffron and Peri

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elddansurin · 7 years

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so i there’s a pretty good OC meme floating around, and i took the liberties of filling out the entire thing myself because let’s be real here, i’d like to see any of you try and stop me. i filled it out for serras bc that greasy boy could use more love

Personal

1) Age? I've never pinned down an exact age for him. Early- to mid-30s, is the vibe I'm feeling. 2) Gender? Male 3) Romantic/Sexual Orientation? There's a safe bet that if it's a character I've made, he's gay. It applies here. 4) Height? I want to say at or around 6 foot even. 5) Race? Dunmer 6) What do they look like? Black sclera, some self-applied scars over his brows, and a lot of haphazard piercings he also did in front of a mirror. Serras is tall and sorta lanky, but moreso in an underfed way, as opposed to someone like Gavriil who is Just Like That. When he's living more stable-like, Serras can actually put on some healthy weight, but he's never been too shredded. I feel like if he ever really settled down, he might start going a bit flabby around the midsection. 7) Any disabilities? Nothing physical. 8) Is there a meaning to their name? In canon, no. His dad thought it sounded nice. I, on the other hand, borrowed his name from a neopet. 9) What makes them, them? Interestingly enough, it's in how much of himself is borrowed from other people. He's never really learned how to be just Serras. Most of his opinions are other peoples' opinions, the bulk majority ofc being his father's, but a few of his old friends have also impacted him (mostly in the way he currently talks). And, naturally, he picks up some of Gavriil's mannerisms with time. If you asked him to boil down who he really was, outside influences aside, he'd probably have some kind of crisis. 10) What do they want to be when they grow up/what do they want to do with their lives? He genuinely has no idea, and it's a source of constant background anxiety for him. He doesn't really know what his talents or ambitions are aside from petty crime and living day to day. He does his absolute best to just... not think about it.

Family

11) Do they have parents? What are they like and how do they act with their child(ren)? His mom's been out of the picture since he was a newborn, but he has a super tight relationship with his father. And by that, I mean ridiculously codependent. They love each other and get along very well, but their relationship is not healthy, and Serras has only recently become aware of that. 12) Do they have siblings? How do they interact with them? If not, do they wish they had siblings? He has a few half-siblings whom he has never met and is unaware of (via his mother, who is absolutely still kickin). 13) Extended family? Do they see them often? Plenty, but the only one he has ever met is his maternal aunt. They keep in touch and are on good terms, and she was the one who gently suggested he should try and learn to live on his own. 14) Do they like where they live? (Is it a safe place?) He doesn't really know any better. He's spent his entire life on the move and has rarely lived in a single place for more than a few years at a time. He and his father were constantly moving around western Morrowind and eastern Skyrim with no real rhyme or reason, and now for SOME reason, Serras has a hard time setting down roots. 15) Where do they live? Are they wealthy? Poor? Middle-Class? In theory, his home is outside of Mournhold, where his dad lives in a small hovel. In practice, he lives out of a tent. But it works for him. By which I mean he's used to it. 16) Do they have a lot of expectations/pressure on them from family to do great? His dad put absolutely no pressure on him and barely disciplined him at all. Serras will bend over backward to make his dad happy because he loves and respects the man, but he has a serious, serious issue with any other authority figure (or anyone he perceives as an authority figure). He's either very afraid or outright contemptuous of anyone with power over him. 17) Do they have pets? He's had a ton of pets, from cats to nix puppies to pony guar. They tend to either get left behind during hasty moves, or "run away" when his dad gets tired of having them around. 18) Who do they look up to the most/are the closest to in their family? Undoubtedly, his father. 19) This there anything special about their family? His family has (or had) strong ties to House Indoril and the Tribunal Temple, back when that was the sort of thing that mattered. But his father was outcasted and went so far as to drop their family name entirely out of sheer spite, and Serras has only the vaguest understanding of his family history. 20) Do they wish they lived in a different family/household? He just wishes things were more stable.

Friends

21) Best Friend(s)? Gavriil, who also holds the title of being His Only Friend. In Serras's eyes, Gav's this hypercompetant dude with an intimidating level of education and experience, nevermind that he's also an emotionally damaged drifter. Serras has a habit of downplaying the negative attributes of the people he admires, see. 22) Who was their first friend? A little Argonian boy from back when he and his dad were living in Windhelm for a year or two. He'd have been 10 or so. 23) What is their friend group like? Sparse! 24) Do they have a love/hate relationship with any of them? Learning far more toward the former than the latter 25) Do they consider any of their friends to be like siblings? I'm going to say no, for two reasons. One is that Serras is painfully very much an only child and has no concept of what having siblings would be like, and for two, he has a very hard time keeping things platonic when he finds someone who will put up with him for more than a few hours. 26) Have they ever hurt a friend or lost one? He never sets out to intentionally hurt the people he loves, but it happens. And he's lost quite a few friends, for a number of reasons. 27) Do they have a crush on any of their friends? Take a good guess. 28) Do they share classes with good friends? I'm going to be a smart ass and say he's more of a rogue while Gavriil is clearly a mage. So no. 29) Whom do they go to the most when they need a shoulder to cry on? His immediate gut reaction is to cry to dad, but he's conscious of that and trying to reel it in. His next reaction is to bottle it up, because that never backfires horribly. Or if it's just something small and petty, he'll complain to Gav. 30) What would this person do without their friends in their lives? Serras Does Not Do Well on his lonesome. That's the nicest way of putting it.

School

31) What grade are they in? If they aren’t in school, how come? Dude's never spent a single day in any sort of classroom. 32) Do/Did they like their teachers? Was there a good one? Bad one? His one and only teacher was his father, who, best efforts aside, was not very good at being a teacher. Case in point: Serras is functionally illiterate and I doubt he'd be able to read much beyond a third grade level. 33) Do/Did they listen to their teachers or are/where they goofing off a lot? As a kid, he had no interest in learning from books and was way more interested in working with his hands (which is how he got so good at general outdoorsman skills). Now that he knows how uneducated he is, he desperately wants to learn and be taught but is too embarrassed to figure out how to start. 34) Are/Where they a good student grade wise? I feel like he'd be a solid B-C student. 35) Do/Did they need extra help? All things being equal, he'd have been a pretty average student. Now, well, he has a lot of catching up to do. 36) What is/was their school like? Slapdash and improvised. 37) Do/Did they have bullies in school? That would imply a lot more social interaction than he actually had as a kid. For a significant part of his childhood he was very sheltered in the most literal sense of the word. Even when he did start being socialized a bit more freely, his dad would have fucking immediately shut that shit down if he thought his baby was getting made fun of. 38) Have they ever gotten into a fight at school? He fucking absolutely would have, given the opportunity. He's too scrappy for his own good. 39) Have they ever done something stupid/embarrassing at school? Well, he was pretty socially maladjusted for the first... what, two-thirds of his life? It's inevitable. 40) How far do they plan to go with school? If they dropped out, do they want to go back? He absolutely does want to further his education by some means. If nothing else, he wants to learn how to read gooder.

Other

41) Are they dating anyone? Do they want to date? Are the married? Divorced? He's in a constant state of getting crushes on anyone who's nice to him. However, his track record with relationships is uhhhh not great. That said, yes he does want to date. 42) What is their favorite hobby? Do they keep it a secret? He loves- absolutely loves- pickpocketing and other petty crime. It's just his thing. 43) If they could have one thing in life, what would it be? Emotional stability. 44) Do they work? If so, what is it? If not, are they looking for one or even want one? He's never been able to hold down a stable job in his life, and he certainly doesn't know what he wants to do. He's had a few laborer-type jobs, and none of them lasted for more than a few weeks. Dude just couldn’t cut it in that kind of environment. 45) Do they use social media? He lives out of a fucking tent. 46) Have they ever been in the hospital? Dude gets beat up a lot, so yeah. 47) Do they believe in the supernatural, that there is more than the eye can see? For someone who lives in a world with literal gods and actual ghosts, his beliefs are unspecified and undecided. His father stopped worshipping before he was born, and so Serras doesn't know what to do with himself, spiritually speaking. At this point, it doesn't bother him and he doesn't care. 48) What do they do when they get angry, stressed, or upset? When upset, he fidgets, talks too much, engages in a lot of self-touch gestures, etc. When that ramps up, he shuts down and starts bottling up. When that stops working, Bad Times Ahoy. 49) Would they consider themselves as a good person, bad person, or morally grey? He views the world in pretty black and white terms, morally speaking. He's killed before, so he considers himself to be a bad person. Though the only lives he's taken were in 100% self defence, he sees that as being as bad as regular murder, so he tells himself he would be alright with unprovoked killing. He's never done it, but he tells himself this. On the flip side, anyone he's arbitrarily deemed as Morally Good will almost always stay that way, regardless of their actual motives or actions. Like I said, he's very good at excusing the negatives of the people he likes/cares about/idolizes. 50) Does this OC have any part of you in them? (I.e, personality traits, similar background, etc). I've based a lot of younger-me in him. The maladjusted weirdo who doesn't know who he's supposed to be, who doesn't know how to be his own person. It's a weird, awkward stage to be in, and that's how I've envisioned Serras. Drifting, alone, in a transitional period of his life between a stunted beginning and potential character growth. Will he get there? That remains to be seen. Also, some other stuff, but you know. Spoilers. Ask me this again after I post chapter 13 and I’ll get more specific.

#@all my pals: fill this out plz #OCs

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