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kumoriyami-xiuzhen · 3 years

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Hakuoki Yuugiroku 2 - Hijikata Chapter 5

This is my last post of the month, so I’ll end by asking you to please support me if you can through my ko-fi, and paypal or patreon which provides access to my hakuoki blog translations and early access to my postings. Also, please let me know if you have any hakuoki drama cds that you’d be willing to share that are on my Lookout List since i either do not have audio for those cds or do not have audio that I can share…. and if you are able to remove watermarks from a video, please contact me.

For some very strange reason, I decided to watch the xxxHolic stage. i mean, i don’t even remember the plot of the manga (or the last time i even read it for that matter), and since my understanding of spoken Japanese is worse than abysmal, I didn’t really understand what was going on so it probably wasn’t a good idea to watch in the first place... though in fairness, i just had it played in the background as I was mostly focusing on something else at the time. lol. yeah, im weird.

anyway, enjoy!

Hakuoki Yuugiroku 2 - Hijikata Chapter 5

Translation by KumoriYami

Yukimura: Pickles, and freshly brewed tea for Hijikta-san...... Nn.

There was steam wafting from the tea that had been placed on the tray, and it tickled my nose [reword later].

After a trip to the kitchen to secure the pickles and tea, I headed straight towards Hijikata-san's room.

Yukimura: It would be nice if Hijikata-san could enjoy this.

I muttered quietly with anticipation, and stopped at the door in front of Hijikata-san's room.

Although it wasn't a bad idea to bring food, what if I got in the way of his work and he kicked me out?

While worrying about this, I took in a deep breath and opened my mouth to speak through the closed [im assuming it's "sliding". check later] doors.

Yukimura: Um, Hijikata-san. It's Yukimura.

…………

Yukimura: I'm sorry to disturb you while you're busy. I made you some tea...

…………

After asking several times, there was still no response/signs of movement from the other side of the door.

Yukimura: As expected, it wasn't good to bring tea over......

I was hoping this would make him happy/cheer him up, but the tea had now become cold/had cooled down.

As I listlessly hung my head as I looked down at the tea leaves floating in the teacup——

Hijikata: Hey.

The voice that I had been expecting to hear suddenly came from behind me for some reason.

Yukimura: Eh?

Hijikata: I was wondering who it was, and it turned out to be you, Chizuru. What are you doing standing in front of someone's room?

Yukimura: Hi-Hijikata-san!?

Being in such an unexpected situation, the tray almost fell out of my hands.

After reaching for the tray to keep it steady, Hijikata-san sighed.

Hijikata: Why are you so surprised. It looks like you've seen a ghost.

Yukimura: It, It's not that/N-No, I thought you'd be spending the entire day in your room working.... .!

Hijikata: Well, I was thinking about doing that earlier.

At the same he finished those meaningful words, Hijikata-san glanced at me and went into his room.

Seeing that I was still standing there dumbstruck, Hijikata-san glanced at me.

Hijikata: Weren't you looking for me? If so, don't just stand there and come in.

Yukimura: Ye-Yes!

As soon as I entered the room, the first thing that came into view were the documents and letters scattered all over the place.

After gathering up the things that had scattered to the floor, HIjikata-san sat down.

Hijikata: Well, I just wanted to ask you about what you're carrying in your hands right now...

Yukimura: Ah, yes. I was thinking that it was about time for you to take a break, so I prepared tea and some snacks for you.

Hijikata: You specifically prepared it for me? I'm sorry for troubling you.

After I put down the tray, Hijikata-san immediately reached for the pickles.

After he put the pickles into his mouth, he seemed to be chewing them carefully, as if to taste them slowly/slowly savour them.

Hijikata: Hm? This taste...

Yukimura: Yes. I heard these pickles were brought/sent over from Hino.

Hijikata: I see. No wonder why they taste familiar.

Hijikata:——Ah, these are really delicious. The taste from my hometown is really different/special.

As if he were thinking of his hometown, Hijikata-san looked off into the distance as he sipped his tea.

That's good... he seemed to be happy.

Yukimura: Where these pickles were delivered from——Hijikata-san's hometown is the same as Kondou-san's hometown right?

Hijikata: Yeah. Haven't I mentioned this/it before? I used to learn the sword at a run-down/poor [word i have is 'poor' but i think run-down makes more sense... though i also can't think of any other word at the moment] dojo in Tama with Kondou-san, Souji and Gen-san.

I've heard several stories about that time.

The dojo that Kondou-san was the dojo master of ——. [reword later? 'dojo' repeats twice]

It was where the other executives met.

Yukimura:...It must have been a friendly dojo.

Hijikata: That's because the owner of the dojo is/was a good person. Thanks to that/him, the number of freeloaders increased while it became more and more poor...

Hijikata: At the time, all you could eat for a meal were sliced pickles.

Hijikata: How about it, Chizuru, why don't you try a slice too?

Yukimura: Is that okay/Can I?

Like Hijikata-san suggested, I brought a slice to my mouth.

When I bit into it, a salty taste spread inside my mouth.

Yukimura: They're/It's delicious/Delicious......

Hijikata: Yeah. [So?] You also think that they're delicious......

Seeing how my eyes had widened, Hijikata-san smiled.

I couldn't help but feel fascinated by that smile.

Yukimura:…………

Hijikata: What/What is it? Is there something on my face?

Yukimura: N-No, that's not the case... but, I was thinking that Hijikata-san had a very tender/gentle expression just now...

Hijikata: Huh.... I couldn’t help it since you were praising the flavours of my hometown.

Hijikata-san looked away and whispered softly to himself.

...Perhaps he was feeling embarrassed.

Then/After, as I saw Hijikata-san stretch by lightly turning his neck, I nervously opened my mouth.

Yukimura: Um, speaking of which, Hijikata-san, you've been working all day... If it's alright with you, can I massage your shoulders?

Hijikata: No need to massage my shoulders. Rather, I wouldn't want such a sight to be seen by Souji [reword later? awkward].

Hijikata: If he saw that/you doing that, he would definitely say something to me about retiring/about how I should retire.

Yukimura: Yes/I see...

I lowered my head.

Perhaps it was because he couldn't bear to see my pitiful appearance, but Hijikata-san bitterly smiled and shook his head.

Hijikata:......I changed my mind. Well, in fact, my shoulders are [feeling] very stiff/sore.

As he spoke, Hijikata-san turned his back towards me.

Hijikata: Then..... I'll leave it to you.

Yukimura: Y-Yes! Excuse me then!

I tried to hide my nervousness as I put my hands onto Hijikata-san's shoulders.

When I touched him like this, I once again realized that he was a man again [????].

Hijikata-san's shoulders were much wider/broader than mine, and the muscles in his shoulders were as hard as rocks.

With what little strength I had, I worried that I wouldn't be able to do anything...

While I thought that, I used as much strength as I could as massaged his shoulders.

Yukimura: Is, Is this okay?

Hijikata:…………

Each time I pressed my palms into his shoulders, Hijikata-san's normally stern face seemed to loosen because of how comfortable/relaxing this was [to him].

Although he didn't answer my question, the sigh that escaped his lips was enough of a response.

I might be overstating it, but it seemed that he trusted me [???]....

Seeing his wholly relaxed/comfortable and defenceless expression, I couldn't believe that this was the same Demon Vice-Commander.

Yukimura; You seem really stiff. Thank you for all the hard work you do every day. So, will you be continuing to work after this?

Hijikata: Yeah. I was originally going to work all day today.... that's how it was supposed to be.

Yukimura: Supposed to be?

Hijikata-san glanced at me again with another meaningful look in his eyes/Hijikata-san glanced at me with the same meaningful eyes he had before.

As I blinked my eyes, not knowing what he meant, Hijikata-san's lips lifted into a smile.

Hijikata: In fact, I was going to ordering uniforms, estimating the cost of repairing the leak in the roof... But it seems like the work I was supposed to do was done by someone else.

Yukimura: Th-That/Th-Then...

I finally managed to figure out the situation.

Then, almost as if he were waiting for it, Hijikata-san gently put his hand on the top of my head.

Hijikata: I rarely have free time.... but it wouldn't be bad to go out.

Yukimura: Ye-Yes!

Hijikata: Tell/Call me when you want to go to the festival. If you like, I'll accompany you.

Seeing that Hijikata-san was cheerfully smiling/cheerfully laughed, I also smiled.

Since I could go to the festival with Hijikata-san, what should I/we go do now——

-end of chapter-

#hakuoki #hakuouki #hakuoki yuugiroku 2 #Hijikata Toshizou #Yukimura Chizuru #hakuoki game translation

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astraandromedatarot · 2 years

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Hi Astra! I'm so sorry I had to cancel my Patreon. I've been getting some weird charges on my card recently, some double charges for subscriptions and stuff. I'm cancelling all auto-renewal payments until I can figure out what's the exact situation going on. Hopefully I won't have to cancel the card outright because I only have one card asdfjk.

Meanwhile one-off payments through Ko-fi sounds great, and it's easier to decide based on my financial situation as well. I don't have an account there but I supported a few artists on and off there. Heck, I know plenty of tarot readers who take payments via Ko-fi how is it not heard of? 😂

I agree with Kickstarter being too much of a hassle before you have the complete deck sorted out. You don't need the stress of backers hounding you on progress. I've backed stuff there before and boy the community can be mean.

Meanwhile, do try to generate more hype for your deck! Frequent low-resolution posts + watermark of your cards as you go along. People need to be more aware of this deck, so that by the time you're nearing completion, you can easily bring things to Kickstarter and have a community waiting to support you.

Alternatively, you can market yourself as an art blog as well for those not interested in the occult. Do some GIF of creation process, and tell people that the full process video is available on your Patreon/Ko-fi. I know that will delay the creation of the deck because it takes time away from drawing, but I suppose ultimately, the question is, would you be happy with completing the deck and just printing one copy for yourself, or do you actually want to sell it?

All the best! If you still do paid tarot readings I'll drop by as well 🤗 I really miss listening to your readings

Aw ! 😭

I just woke up to see this, you’ve been so amazing this entire time! I figured something like that happened and I’d been wanting to switch from patreon to ko-fi for a while so i jumped over. I hope my little rant last night didn’t make you feel bad! 😩

Normally i try to never post things like that- but after working so hard on this deck and to be met with that kind of attitude from people last night- it really got under my skin. See i’m okay with people not funding the project, thats fine, its when people say oh i would, but i don’t like the platform despite there’s nothing wrong with it.

Exactly what i was thinking, a part of me doesn’t even want to bother with kickstarter at all, for me mostly because i have no idea how to handle lots of orders. The uk is terrible as well for international shipping, my boyfriend will be dealing with usa orders but he’s away working on tour at the moment. Maybe once i’ve got more experience with posting and managing orders it’ll be more viable to me.

I posted a photo of a few of the cards to reddit last night, its getting good feedback there- so i’ll keep trying to find places to promote.

That’s a good idea, I’ll try to record some progress videos where I can! Maybe i could make some kinda work vlog as well!

I was thinking of maybe getting back into recording readings soon actually, they’re a good way to relax- so maybe i’ll record some to post on youtube soon 😊

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h2bakugou · 4 years

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so uhm my cat (aka my best friend) just passed away the other day and im very devastated and i honestly dont know how to cope hhh can i request for a scenario with bakugou comforting his girlfriend when their pet passed away and shes also in the same situation as i am akkskdk thanks in advance 🥺

a/n: awe, i’m so sorry for your loss hun, i’m sending you all my love ♡♡ big hugs from me to you, i hope you start to feel better soon ♡

summary: after losing your best friend, your pet cat, bakugou comforts you

key: (y/n) - your name / (f/n) - first name / (l/n) - last name / (e/c) - eye color / (h/c) - hair color / (y/q) - your quirk / (c/n) - pet cat’s name

warnings: swearing, fluff, angst

wordcount: 889

»»————-　★　————-««

The call from your mom was heartbreaking. You’d been at the dorms for just about a month now, and you made every chance you could to go see (c/n).

So when your mom called to inform you of the sad news, you couldn’t stay there.

(c/n) had been there for you since you could remember. You’d raised them from a kitten to a full-grown cat. And you loved them so much. They were your best friend. You did everything together, or as much as you could.

You remember the time you bought a halloween costume for them, the two of you matching despite not being able to go out and go trick or treating.

You had so many good memories. And now you’d just lost your best friend.

It was tough to go back home. But you did it. You managed at least. Losing a pet was a pain that was unbearable. So much emotion, and feeling. It was like losing a person. They’d become so attached to you, as you had become attached to them.

You wouldn’t wish this pain on anyone.

But after you returned to the dorms, you didn’t know what to do. You felt lost. How could you move on? You’d just lost your best friend, and not to mention the one who’d cuddled with you when days were hard, or when people got on your nerves.

The one who listened to you complain about the stupid things, or who would listen to you sing your heart out to your favorite songs.

You lost a part of you.

Bakugou was the first to notice something was off. He was your boyfriend after all, and he paid close attention to you.

Ever since you’d gotten back from visiting home, you’d been silent. He could tell you’d been crying, your eyes were red and puffy.

He decided to stop by your room after class.

- - -

He didn’t bother knocking, instead, he just walked in. You lifted your head from your pillows to see who had walked in.

“Katsuki?” You said softly, wiping the tears from your eyes.

“Hey-Are you okay?” He rushed over to your side. He could be stubborn and arrogant, but seeing you cry was a sight that made him want to punch whoever the hell made you cry.

That and he also wanted to console you as best as he could.

“No.” You muttered. You figured you should tell him if you tell anyone. It hurt to bring it up, which is why you hadn’t said anything.

You could feel the tears bubbling back up as you opened your mouth to speak.

“My pet cat, (c/n) just passed away.” You said through broken sobs. Bakugou’s arms quickly wrapped around you, pulling you into him.

He’d never grown up with any pets, but he could tell it was really taking a toll on you. He couldn’t imagine what you were going through. But he didn’t need to know right now. He just needed to be there for you.

Your head laid against his shoulder as tears poured from your eyes, watermarks appearing on Bakugou’s shirt. His hand rubbed your back in small circles as he held you close.

You wrapped your arms around him, clenching his shirt in your hands. Your sobs were muffled by the fabric of his shirt.

“It’s gonna be okay.” Bakugou whispered. He had no idea if it was going to be, but when you’re at your worst, you can only go up from there right?

“I hope so.” You choked out.

Your cries eventually died down as you got tired of crying. Your eyes burned as you rubbed your knuckles over them, wiping the stray tears away. You lifted your head to look at Bakugou.

“I’ll be right back okay?” He says, sliding you off of his lap. You nod and slid under your covers, watching as the sun slowly hides behind the horizon as it sets.

Bakugou hands you some tissues before leaving your room.

When he returns he’s got some soda and your favorite snack in his hand. Did he just have these in store?

“How did you get those?” You question, a small smile forming on your lips. Bakugou just smirks.

“I know my girlfriend better than anyone, therefore I have a secret stash that is for her and her only.” Bakugou hands you your drink and snacks.

“I’m so lucky.” You laugh softly. He nods and places his hands on his hips.

“I am the best boyfriend ever.” He brags.

“Well, the best boyfriend would be cuddling me right now actually-”

It took like two seconds for Bakugou to be under the covers, holding you close after your statement.

“Better?” He kisses your cheek, holding you close. You nod and look up at the ceiling.

“I just know they’re in a better place.” You say softly, not wanting to cry again. Bakugou nuzzles his head into the crook of your neck.

“I’m here if you need anything alright?” He states, the scent of caramel filling your nose.

“Thank you.” You reply.

You knew he wouldn’t pry into it, and you were happy about that. It was gonna be hard to move on, but Bakugou was there the whole time.

And he wouldn’t leave your side at all. He was your rock.

Thank you Bakugou.

»»————-　★　————-««

masterlist

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okayohay · 3 years

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BURNT VACANT RED

I’m sorry for the hold up, but it’s been a while since I’ve shared any type of fanfiction content that I’m struggling with getting back into it, mainly because I know how much I expect from myself with my writing and I don’t want to let this community down specifically. I’d like to explain this story for a second if I can. It is going to be broken down into around ten parts. The chapters will be long and the first one is world building, so please bear with me if you can. I kind of need to set the scene and dig into some history to set the rest of the story up and not have to deal with explanations later. I hope to have the second part up quickly for you all, and I promise you Van becomes more present in chapter two. I hope you enjoy this for what it is. Thanks for reading this crappy introduction. Word count is 7273, and you can also find this on my Wattpad along with my other fanfictions. Peace and love.

ONE

This story doesn’t start happy.

You can’t believe you said “no”.

You toss your handbag toward the couch and underestimate how far away it is, so it clatters to the floor instead where you leave it. As if the worst moment of your life needed theatrics, the rain streams down your ninth-floor condo windows violently and bits of lightning flash off Lake Michigan under the watermark of an evening sky. The Gold Coast of Chicago stretches beyond your window, dumping itself along the shoreline until you lose sight of everything other than lights of nearby suburbs.

You cover your face with your hands and that’s when you realize you’re shaking. You sink slowly to the floor and take a few deep breaths as the evening’s memories bite into your skin. You wince and the embarrassment of the situation sets in. You can’t get over the way Nick’s face looked, and the people around the two of you standing with mouth’s agape as they watch you back away from your boyfriend.

Boyfriend.

The word makes you want to be sick.

He’s not your boyfriend anymore.

At least, you doubt he is. Not after this.

Three hours ago, he wanted to be your fiancé.

But you…said…no.

In hindsight, you knew this was coming, but not like this. Not this quick.

Nick wanted to take you out for dinner and the two of you hadn’t been making very much time for each other lately. You’d finished off your internship in the winter and the company offered you a full-time position as the marketing coordinator. They were a small yet prominent, independent music company that hosted everything from small concerts to large scale festivals. When you took the job, you took away a huge chunk of your free time and it rubbed Nick the wrong way at first. But he eventually accepted a promotion of his own and spent three days a week traveling and you were lucky to get a phone call some nights. It sent the sane and patient part of your relationship into a quick demise. You nit-picked each other for things that wouldn’t have mattered before, and the glittery shine of what once was started to dull.

You’d been bickering more frequently than you should have been, especially for not seeing each other often. But you always came around because Nick knew everything about you. Nick was the boy you were never supposed to date, the rebound after the love of your life walked away from you. Nick had taken on the role of sewing you back up and keeping you together, and you stayed with him ever since. It seemed like the right thing to do. You loved him, but not in the same red way you loved the boy before him, but you did love him. That candle was lit, but the flame never seemed to burn quite right.

You’d been together for three years. It was time to get serious about the future and you knew that. The two of you were woven deeply into the facets of each other’s lives and it was only time before he popped the question. You just didn’t think it’d be this soon. You figured you’d at least be living together first. You figured you’d be somewhere exotic and you’d have time to pose for a photo afterwards. But your expectations prove how little you really know about life and the deep meanings of it.

You didn’t expect that you’d decline the offer when it was proposed to you either. But you did.

You always pictured the moment in your mind and it went exactly the opposite of what you expected. Playing out like a terrible movie you didn’t have the guts to walk out of early, so you suffer through it.

He took you to one of the upscale restaurants downtown, the kind where the waiter pulls out your chair for you and adjusts your cloth napkin every time you move it. You never liked the elegant parts of life that others longed for. You craved simple things, but Nick was the opposite. Nick grew up with money and a family who dined in eloquence. Nick pined for these types of places and things. Even though his music taste matched your alternative ones, he still needed the finer things in life. He didn’t pick this place for you, he picked it for himself, for his status. He seemed antsy so you did most of the talking which wasn’t out of the ordinary. You started telling him about your job and how there was potential for an opening in the Charleston office and the owner had personally recommended you to HR there. The excitement in your voice was evident and you rambled on about the endeavor. You’d been keeping it to yourself and tonight seemed like the appropriate night to share it. You loved the southern states, particularly South Carolina, and Nick knew this about you. But his reaction was less than positive.

“You can’t be serious. You would really move to South Carolina for work?”

You nod once, reaching for the Sauvignon Blanc with greedy, nervous fingers.

“You’d move, away from your family, from Tessa…from me?”

The mention of your family strikes a nerve and your stomach twists into a knot at the thought of not getting to see your teenage brother as often as you do now, and even that wasn’t often enough. The thought of leaving Tessa, your best friend, and the condo you share with her rips you in a million pieces. Every favorite memory of your short adult life was wrapped up in that place and with her.

“I haven’t given any of it much of a thought yet.”

Nick smirks. “Of course not. You just jumped…like you always do. Like you did when they offered you the position here.”

“Nick…it’s been my dream to be working in this field. You’ve known this since you met me. I was lucky to have been offered the position straight out of an internship.”

He shakes his head. “And you’re in love with what you do.”

“Yes.” You state flatly. This was nothing new. Everyone knew how much music meant to you. You could talk to a stranger from anything regarding 1970’s rock clear through modern day, indie-alternative. You gushed about music to anyone who wanted to listen regardless if it was a stranger or a friend. But Nick didn’t like the fact that you felt so strongly about your career. In the world he came from, girlfriend’s and wives held their career second to their relationships.

“More in love than it with me?” He leaned forward as he asked the question, splaying his hands against the table frantically.

You don’t say anything and you let the thought simmer in the back of your mind, dissecting his sentence and reading between the lines of his words. “Are you asking me to choose?”

He shakes his head. “I’m not asking you anything…yet. I’m trying to figure out what you want, because lately…I’m not sure.”

You lean forward to mimic his reaction, and do your best to maintain what little ground you currently have. It’s a small island, but it’s yours and you’re not the type to back down into the corner. “I guess that question can go both ways. I’m not the only one who buries myself in work. When was the last time you were home five days in a row? Between the conventions and the meetings, you’re in town a total of eight days a month. I know I’ve been wrapped up in work, but it’s because I landed the job I worked so hard for, a job that was my dream. You can’t blame me for that. Especially when you’re guilty of the same thing.”

“To be very clear, what I do at work is not my dream.” Nick confesses.

“Well then you should figure out what you want and do that.” You bite back with a knee-jerk response.

“I want to be with you. And you want to move?”

You turn your face to the side on a shrug and release a deep breath. “Yes. I want to move. I told Jacob I was interested in it. That’s why he made the call.”

Nick drums his fingers against the tabletop nervously. “I can’t go with you.”

You sip the wine and set it down softly on a shrug. “I didn’t ask you to.”

Nick narrows his eyes at you. “What, so we’re supposed to just make long distance work?”

You hadn’t thought about any of this, you were just excited to have a potential opportunity in a place you always wanted to be. “I guess.”

The two of you don’t speak much after that and Nick spends the time scrolling through his phone and glancing around every now and again nervously. You pick at your food, losing more of your appetite the longer you sit there. You don’t accept the to-go box when the waiter offers it and Nick pays the bill quickly and escorts you out of the building.

The walk to the condo you share with you best friend is tense and uncomfortable. Nick pauses at an intersection before deciding he wants to take the long way through the park adjacent to your building. You entertain his desire to take the long way to your door, figuring he needs to blow off steam and there’s only so many places you can find solace in a city. You’re two steps behind him until he gets to a small corner with concrete retaining walls that people use as benches. He sits and rubs the back of his neck. You watch him battle with words he doesn’t know how to say and you figure the least you can do is get on his level. You sit next to him and reach for his face instinctively. He snatches your fingers and eyeballs them before interlacing them with his own.

“I didn’t expect to be in a fight right now. It’s not how I wanted this to go.”

“It’s not a fight- “you say softly but he interrupts you and shakes his head.

“It feels like a war.” He whispers and your frown.

“Nick…I need to do this. I need to go. I haven’t wanted anything more than this in my life. It’s important to me.”

He laughs and rolls his shoulders, removing his hand from yours and you look over your shoulder, silently praying for a crowd of people to walk over and interrupt the hostility the two of you are facing. But only a few strangers dare to walk over to this section of the park, and they seem less than interested in whatever dilemma you two are hanging onto and more interested in their own stories. Nick reaches into his pocket and you turn back to him on a sigh, but your eyes land on the small box in the palm of his hand before fluttering to his face. He bites his lip and shakes his head.

“I planned to have a fantastic evening with you. I was going to ask you to move in with me, and after you said yes, I was going to order a bottle of champagne and then I was going to walk you home just like this, and stop here at this place and ask you why the good news should stop here. And then I was going to get down on my knee and tell you how much I loved you.”

Nick proceeds to do just that, and he takes your hand with him in the process. Everything below your neck goes numb and you can’t feel your fingers in his hand.

“And then I was going to tell you that I needed to be with you forever, and that in order to do that I needed you to be my wife.” He pauses and opens the box, revealing a large, square diamond matching the same one his brother gave his wife. It wasn’t your style at all, and maybe at one point in your life it would have meant the world to you, but in this moment, it feels wrong.

“I’m still going to ask that of you, because even in our worst moments, our most uncomfortable moments, you’re still worth it and I want to be with you forever. Please marry me. Because there isn’t a life for me without you, good or bad moments, I’ll take them.”

You freeze and hear a whisper from across the patio. A couple has spotted the proposal in action and is waiting for your reaction and they look prepared to applaud. You look back at Nick, at the ring, and then you exhale and pull your hand out of his slowly.

“Nick…”

He furrows his eyebrows at you as you lean away from him and tuck a piece of hair behind your ear.

“Can we talk about this?”

Nick doesn’t move out of his position and glances around nervously, raking his free hand through his wavy blond hair. “Is that your answer?”

You shake your head. “Nick…I can’t, we can’t.”

He snaps the box shut and the couple across from you turns away quickly after their jaw’s both drop habitually. You pretend not to notice and Nick stands up slowly.

“Oh God.” He whispers and presses his fingers into the side of his head.

“I’m sorry…” you confess, but it breaks out and you choke on a cry.

Nick shakes his fingers at you and closes his eyes harshly as if he’s wishing himself out of the situation. When he opens them, he looks nervous, and you don’t remember seeing this look on him before. It stones you and you sit up straighter before rising to your feet and walking toward him. You rest your hand on his arm and he shrugs you off of him quickly.

“I told my parents I was asking you. I figured you’d say yes…” His words trail off as he paces the area for something to do. “They figured you’d say it, too. And now I have to tell them…”

“Can we talk about this? Please?”

“It’s not really a question you need to talk about. It’s either yes or no.” His voice becomes a fortress and you realize you’re not getting in.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry but I’m not ready for this.” You admit breathlessly.

“Not ready for this, or not ready for me?”

You can hear the crestfallen tone his voice has taken on and deep down, you know that he knew this was coming, too. Maybe he thought he could heed it off, and curb whatever light from you flame back into his court. But it was over. It’d been over for a long time, and maybe this was the only way for things to burn out.

“It’s not you.” You admit loosely.

“Oh, it’s not me, it’s you, right? We’re going to have to that moment now?”

You shake your head. “No. I mean for me…it’s not you. You’re not the one for me and I’m not the one for you, Nick. We both know this.”

Nick shakes his head and looks like he’s going to cry. “Are you kidding me? When was I supposed to know this? Because for three years we’ve done everything together. Why would I think anything else?”

“I’m sorry.” You say again, but Nick stopped listening. He stopped listening when he stormed away from you with his hands in the air, and left you in the park with your thoughts without saying goodbye.

And now, now you were alone in your apartment with no memory of how you made it back, dissecting the memories of a few hours before, and trying to figure out if the night had gone like he wanted, would you have said yes to him? You chew on the thought before realizing that you would have said no either way. You weren’t sure what was supposed to happen in your life, but you knew one thing; you were not supposed to marry Nick.

------

You spend the next several weeks cramming your life into boxes and selling what you don’t want or need. You pack everything up and label what’s in each box with a bold sharpie. You ordered furniture for your new place in Charleston, leaving Tessa with pretty much everything. She helps you pack after work each night and the goodbye with her is harder than anything you could have imagined. Your goodbye to your family was difficult, but you were used to being away from them for weeks at a time by now, it’s saying goodbye to the person you’ve shared fifteen years doing everything with that forces you to breakdown. You spend the first few hours of the drive crying, and wondering if you’re doing the right thing. But by the time you make it into the Carolinas, the decision you made seems like the best one. You roll down your windows and let the air in, turning your music up in the process because some songs need air. You instantly feel relief when the humidity of the south laps at your skin and sticks to you.

Your new place is sandwiched along the Battery and the views of the water make you feel at home even though the Atlantic is much more appealing to you than Lake Michigan. It’s a small, two story home and the exterior is painted in pastel blue. The flowers from the previous tenant spill out of the boxes along the windowsill and you water them with a leftover bottle of water that grew warm from being inside of your car. It takes you seven trips to unload your car and you leave the boxes in the living room while you unpack your suitcase with all your clothes first. Your furniture is set to arrive tomorrow, so you plan to sleep on a pile of pillows and blankets that you throw on the floor. By the time you’re ready to move to the living room, the sun is almost down and the golden light spewing across the water stains your walls in hues of brass. You order food from a nearby sushi restaurant that delivers and quietly go about pulling things out of boxes and deciding where to put them.

You get to a box that Tessa packed for you and there’s a letter on the top. You pull it out and skim it, trying not to cry for the tenth time of the day. She tells you she is proud of you and how much she loves you, and the box is filled with some of your best memories with her, including photos and mementos from the last decade. You pull out a photo album you didn’t know existed along with a stack of photos underneath it, a handful of ticket stubs from the days before everything became digital, and lanyards from festivals you forgot you attended.

You fold your legs and sit Indian-style on the floor while you flip through the photographs. There are standard photos of you and Tessa at music festivals, blended within crowds of people, laughing wildly while bands that no longer exist play behind you on stage. You’d almost forgotten this part of your life. You were nineteen back then and a version of yourself you didn’t remember. Now, you were on the wrong end of twenty-six and you hadn’t been to a concert in this context in years. You smile at the photos of Tessa passed out along the festival grounds, surrounded by friends you hadn’t seen in too long. You’re interrupted by your food arriving and you accept it graciously as your stomach growls, reminding you that you hadn’t eaten all day. You pile a few bites into your mouth and sit back down, returning to your stack of photos. You flip through party photos, pictures from college that you’re shocked Tessa went to the trouble of printing, and laugh at the pictures of the two of you at high-school graduation.

You nearly drop the stack at what comes next, and you stop chewing your food for a moment as you narrow your eyes on the picture on top of the pile. You set the stack down as you bring the photo in your hands closer to your face, holding it with shaking fingers. It’s a photograph of you in your former life, with people who have since become strangers. But it’s you and the person whose face is pressed against yours that makes you physically ache. It’s a picture of you and your ex-boyfriend, the one who you loved violently and effortlessly at the same time. A picture that you didn’t realize existed because you’d never even seen it until now. You barely recognize yourself. Your hair was long and spilled around your shoulders in waves. You look happy and young, a cigarette dangling from your fingers as your ex-boyfriend clings to you for life. Your throat bobs with a nervousness that feels so foreign to you, you can’t even give it a name. You eventually start to chew on your food again before you swallow it, feeling your appetite wane.

You glance to the stack and see more photos from the same night. You flit through them anxiously, splaying them across the floor of your living room and bringing them close to your face to analyze them on a deeper level. These were moments of your life you hadn’t probed in years, moments of your life you’d done your best to forget. But here they were, printed in permanent reminders for you to tap into. Your ex is in all of them, wrapped around you, smoking a cigarette or strumming on a guitar while you laid on the couch next to him. Your chest tightens at the memory of that particular night, remembering how he confessed to you that he actually did love you, and then he played a song he wrote for you. You let yourself think about him for a moment, something you hadn’t done in years, and you’re shocked to find his ghost still eager to be summoned in the back of your mind.

Van. His name was Van and he had been the greatest love of your life.

You wince at the sound of his name in your mind. The last time you spoke of him was to Nick, early on in your relationship when you were explaining why you hadn’t dated in so long. You told him the truth; you loved Van deeply and it was the hardest blow to your heart you’d received. Nick listened with genuine interest, and at that point, you were in the very early stages of your relationship with him. Nick never experienced a serious relationship before the one he shared with you, but he shared stories of girls he’d dated and moments of his own life where he felt a connection to someone, but none of it held a candle to the relationship you had with Van.

His name sends another ripple through your chest and you feel like you could be sick. Every emotion you’d worked so hard at ignoring for the last three years came back like a hurricane and settled into your skin quickly. How could you have forgotten about this part of your life so easily? You blame Nick. He’d been a good hinderance to the feelings you had for Van. He picked up the pieces that were left of you and arranged them into some sort of version of yourself that made it so you could at least carry on. You’d let him become a distraction to your feelings, and parts of him reminded you of Van. His love for music being one of them. You’d become so wrapped up in Nick, that you could easily forget about Van, until now at least, when your distraction was no longer a part of your life. Nick was a replacement, or maybe a bandage and Van was the wound that didn’t heal properly regardless of how much pressure you applied to it.

The stack of photos begs you to go on, and you find more evidence of the life you’d left in the past. Van was the lead singer of a band from the UK, and you met him when you were working the office of a small venue in Chicago six years ago. He’d found you before his set when he locked himself out of his band’s dressing room. He’d spent the last fifteen minutes looking for someone to help him and you were the only person he had any luck tracking down. He introduced himself and told you a short version of a long-winded story regarding how this happened. Even though you should have fact checked him or went to find a manager, you felt sorry for him so, you obliged and unlocked the door for him. Maybe you were intrigued by his accent and the strange name of his band. Or maybe it was the iciness of his blue eyes and the way his hair spilled into them that made it easy for you to oblige. After your help, he made sure to invite you to the show and made you promise you’d catch part of it. He told you that you were witnessing history in the making and that Catfish and the Bottlemen were going to be the biggest band in the world. You laughed at his genuine confidence and even though you feigned interest with him, you watched from the balcony where no one was seated. They were good, and his energy on stage made it hard for you to look away from him. You were fairly certain he’d noticed you up there, but you blushed and turned away anytime you caught him glancing your way.

Afterwards, you locked the front doors and pulled your bag from the ticket booth, flicking off lights as you went. You shuffled out the side door, surprised to find Van, and two other people standing there sharing cigarettes and beers. He looked less nervous, more playful even, and gave you a hug when he recognized you. He offered you a beer and normally, you would have said no. You had plans the following day and you knew better than to mingle with acts when they came through. Your boss would have you by the throat if he knew that you were considering spending time with them. But something about Van was persistent, and you felt a pull in your gut to share a drink with him. He introduced you to some of his bandmates and his road crew, and you forgot their names quickly, wishing you’d paid more attention when he spoke. But Van made you nervous and you fumbled over your words and stuttered your way through group conversations.

You spent a few hours chewing on with him about their tour, their music, and similar bands you both liked. Van loved music. There was no denying that. When he spoke about writing or performing, he spoke quickly and moved his hands with animated motions. Music was his life, and he made sure everyone knew it. You couldn’t keep up with his energy. It was fierce and fiery, yet humble and authentic all in one. You continued drinking with him even after everyone else called it a night, and walked around the outside of the venue, sharing cigarettes at the picnic table out back and trying to keep up with the dialect of his thick accent that seemed to become harder to understand the more he drank. He did his best to dumb down the words and phrases you didn’t know, and you tried hard not to Americanize him. Eventually, the two of you wound back in his hotel room, ripping the clothes off of each other. Up until that point, you’d never done anything remotely similar to that and you wondered what Tessa would think. This was very out of character for you and you knew it. You stayed there until morning when you attempted to duck out before he woke, but little did you know, he was wide awake, writing in a black notebook, smiling lazily at you. You exchanged numbers habitually upon your goodbyes but never expected to hear from him.

He texted you five minutes after you left.

You and Van continued the messages for weeks, sharing photos and videos, and eventually making drunk calls to each other while his band finished the leg of their tour. You told your friends about him, and you talked about him with Tessa regularly. When he returned to the UK, he asked you to wait for him to come back and promised that he would meet up with you when he did. Like the believer in young love you were, you waited anxiously for Van to return, but it took a while. And during the months he was away, the phone calls and messages became less and less until they stopped entirely. He stopped initiating messages and eventually stopped returning your own, and that’s when you decided you hated him…sort of. You loved to hate him, crying on Tessa’s shoulder after a night out on the town and confessing your attraction to him in the moments where you were most under the influence, and promising her you’d never speak to him again after this. But eventually he came back, and he made it a point to hunt you down, and you fell right back under whatever spell Van McCann put you under the first time. You spent an entire summer following his band around on tour, and making long weekend trips with Tessa to cities he was playing in. You picked up right where you left off, and drowned the fear of him leaving again with drinks after his shows and shitty weed from one of his roadies. Van was different this time around, older and less animated when he spoke, and more concerned with what was happening around him. He still seemed happy, and he still loved music, but the stress of playing shows every night, mixed with the release of a sophomore album that sky-rocketed his band into a frenzy of fame, stoned him a little. He was reposed in a way you hadn’t seen him be before and it made you wonder what was going on with him beneath the surface. But you never did get the chance to ask, because Van couldn’t talk about his feelings as easily as he could spin them into songs, and layer them in innuendos. You’d pry when he’d have his moments of silence and pure aggression, but you never managed to get anywhere with him.

Your relationship was unhealthy, both of you using the other to bury your fears and worries into, and never really communicating properly about anything. After his tour wrapped up, he disappeared again, leaving you breathless and in pieces and losing all communication with you again, except this time it was worse because prior to leaving, he’d told you he loved you. You didn’t understand any of it and his absence hurtled you into an angry phase of life where you lost weight and picked yourself apart, but you’d get better every time he called or when he would eventually show up. You’d stalk him online, reading comments he’d leave to fans or girls from back home and torturing yourself to the point of madness. This went on for years. He’d come back to the US, and you’d fall right back into place with him. Then he would go away, and each time he left, a part of you left, too.

Eventually it all stopped though, some three plus years after it all began, but you weren’t ready to relive the ending yet. The ending was too painful to discuss, too awful to consider. You toss the pictures into the box haphazardly, and they coat the bottom with memories you wish Tessa never sent you with. Why would she do that? Why would she knowingly open a wound when you were already vulnerable about moving away and ending things with Nick? And why of all people, would she choose to spotlight, Van? She knew more than anyone how awful your official breakup with Van had been. She suffered through your darkest moments with you and here she was sending you off and into the world with boxes of memories that happened to be some of the sharpest objects you could touch. You consider calling her or at the very least sending her a message about it, but the thought of typing out Van’s name in a sentence fills you with dread.

You choose to open a bottle of celebratory wine your parents sent with you instead. You wonder if you have an emergency pack of Marlboros to chain-smoke and keep your nerves at ease, but you know better than that by now. The last thing you need is to pick up an old habit because you can’t manage your new life or the memories or your former one. You push the thought of smoking to the side and fumble with the cork of the wine bottle until a pop fills your kitchen and the scent of Cab Sav fills the air. You haven’t unpacked any dishes yet, so you insist on drinking from the bottle and it suits you fine.

You sip the wine as you try to talk yourself out of reliving your old memories, but the more you try not to think about your ex-boyfriend, well, both of them really, the more you realize that if it hadn’t been for Van’s dismissal from your life, you never would have met Nick or had to break his heart in the middle of the proposal. This makes you dislike Van more than you did fifteen minutes ago and you toss back the wine and guzzle it quickly. The burning sensation in your throat causes you to squint, but you keep going, wanting to forget everything until tomorrow. You’d rather deal with a headache than a head full of ghosts.

----

You wake up hungover, an empty bottle of wine acting as evidence in your peripheral vision. You groan at the scent of it as you toss it into a trash bag before stepping to the small patio outback. The wine did little to make you forget, and instead, you cried alone in your apartment for most of the night while streaming songs from Van’s band that you’d purposely ignored for the past three years. You knew they’d released a new album in 2019 and you never once gave it a chance. Not that you expected to find anything about your almost relationship there, but you didn’t want to know about anyone else’s love affair with him either. You didn’t want to know that he was happy and writing about someone else. You didn’t need that type of negativity in your life.

But you only found memories you shared with him, woven intricately into the verses of his songs, tidbits of your conversations bleeding into the spaces between the chorus and bridge. You bite back tears as you sift through the feelings you unpacked last night and wrap your head around some of his lyrics. Between mourning the loss of whatever was left from your and Nick’s devastating coda, to digging up the bones of Van McCann and his whole damn band, you had an intense breakdown.

You skim through your messages with Tessa, rereading the moments where you called her out for the photos and tell her you can’t stop crying. She tells you to call her when you’re sober, and you only repeat yourself over and over until she stops responding. You hover over her name and take a few deep breaths before calling her.

“Are you amongst the living?” Tessa’s tone is drenched in sarcasm and something else you can’t quite make out.

“I’ll be alright.” You’re a terrible liar and she knows it, but she doesn’t call you out on your bluff.

“What happened last night?” Her tone becomes concerned, and regret fills your mouth.

“I opened up your letter and saw all the pictures.”

“Well, I figured that much, but how did you get so drunk?”

You shrug as if she was with you in your living room. “I drank that bottle of wine from my parents.”

“You need a healthy hobby.”

You shake your head lightly, rubbing your temple with your free hand and sighing. “What prompted to you to send me off with those photos?”

“I thought you should have them. I’ve had them for years and they obviously weren’t doing me any favors. I figured I’d give them to you since they were of you mainly.”

“I didn’t even know you had them…”

“Why do you sound so sad?”

You cough. “Uhm, do I have to spell it out for you? You sent me with pictures of my ex-boyfriend who I haven’t thought of for years.”

“What’s the big deal? It’s not like you just broke up. If you don’t want them, toss them out.”

“It’s not a big deal…it just…it caught me off guard I guess.”

“Toss them out then, I don’t care.”

“Yeah, I could.” You admit.

You hear Tessa shuffling on the other end of the phone, and you imagine she’s in the kitchen, working on getting food out for breakfast. You miss your lazy weekend mornings with her already and you try not to think about the fact that you’ll never have them routinely again.

“How long has it been since Van anyway, like two years?”

“Three.” You say quickly. “Three and a few months. I met Nick the winter after we called it.” You wince at the memory and promise yourself not to think about it.

“Damn, where does time go? I wonder how his band is doing. Do you think he’s still in England?”

You close your eyes and your stomach rolls angrily either from the wine or the memories, or possibly a little of both.

“I don’t know Tess, and I really don’t care either.” There’s a bite in your tone.

“You know, I saw him last summer at a festival downtown. It was the weekend you and Nick were in Barbados. He asked about you, and I laid it on thick. I was gushing over Nick actually, and how you were away at some exotic island living your best life. I was really trying to make him feel bad. I think it worked.” She laughs.

You feel your mouth open slightly and you stutter as your words escape. “You never told me about that…”

“I know. I think I meant to, but I forgot. Plus, I didn’t want to ruin your trip by texting you and telling you that I ran into him. He looked good. Kind of awkward after I filled him in on your life, though.”

“Jesus, Tess.” You close your eyes tightly. “I don’t want to talk about this.”

“You’re the one who messaged me about it last night and called now. It’s your past, what’s the problem?”

“I don’t know.”

“Maybe you should reach out to him. Maybe you need a rebound, and a familiar one at that. It’s better than dealing with a stranger”

“You’re awful. Do you know how bad that would hurt?”

“Hurt? Why would it hurt? You loved someone else since him. Maybe you should get back at him for all the hurt he did to you. Call him up, arrange to meet him sometime when he’s in the states again, and play with him the way he played with you for years.”

“That’s not how things work with Van McCann, Tess. You know this. Nothing affects him except music. And all that sounds like is a terrible idea. I don’t need to stir up emotions from years ago.”

“I always liked him. Even when I did hate him, I liked the two of you together.”

“Oh God, Tessa would you shut up? Please. I’m too hungover to be making a trip down memory lane with you especially if it involves Van. God dammit.”

“Okay, okay. I’m sorry. If I’d known you were going to react like this to the pictures, I would have thrown everything out myself. I figured you’d be over everything by now, it’s been a long time. And if anything, I guess I assumed that you’d hurt more about Nick than Van. I mean, Nick asked you to marry him for crying out loud. It’s why I didn’t send any photos of him. I guess I thought, if you could get past Van, you could get past Nick, too. It’s part of the reason I sent the photos. As a reminder what you’d been through.”

“I do hurt about Nick, but it’s a different type of hurt. Honestly, I think I hurt more for him than I do for me. I broke his heart, and that makes me feel terrible. But…but Van…” you trail off.

Tessa sighs. “Van broke yours. The ball wasn’t in your court.”

“Exactly.” You breathe out loosely, feeling like you’ve just confessed sins in church.

“I’m sorry I put these memories in your head…I really thought by now- “

“I know what you thought. I thought I was over it, too. But maybe it just hurt too bad and I never really dealt with it.”

“The plot thickens.” Tessa smirks. “So…what do you think you need to do about it?”

You look around your empty living room and bite into your lip. “Learn how to be alone, I guess. And figure out why Van still has this effect on me. Maybe it’s just unpacked emotions that I didn’t deal with because I had Nick to deal with instead.”

“Maybe you should reach out to Van?”

You choke and turn it into a cough mixed with some sort of laugh. “I’d rather stand in traffic. Besides I deleted his number a long time ago.” Thank God for that, or you would have been tempted to reach out to him too many times after too many drinks, at least until Nick took your attention away from him.

“Well, I guess you’ll figure it out. For what it’s worth though, I am sorry. I didn’t mean to make your first night down there so emotional.”

“It’s okay. I know you didn’t do anything on purpose.”

You chat for a few more minutes about things before ending the call and staring out the window as the morning light softens the edges of the day. You decide to make yourself busy with unpacking and arranging things so that when your furniture comes, you can put it right where it needs to go. Your phone dings once, signaling a text message and you see Tessa’s name light up your screen. You unlock it and open the message, reading it on a frown.

Enclosed is contact information with the name “Van” attached in bold lettering. Another message pops up below it and you read it quickly. I have it. In case you want to reach out.

You don’t respond. Instead, you turn your phone upside down and begin putting dishes away. When you finish you pick up the box of photos and random memories from Tessa and shove it in the hall closet. You try to forget about everything involving Van, but as the day goes on, you find yourself humming the melody of one of the songs you listened to the night before, and you hate yourself for it.

#van mccann #Bob Hall #johnny bond #benji blakeway #Catfish and the Bottlemen #catb #catbblogs #fanfiction #vanfic

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jq37 · 4 years

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The Royal Report– A Crown of Candy Ep 5 Lapin’s Big Day

Aftermath

Right before the stream for this episode started, I saw the title and I thought, “Lapin’s Big Day? After last episode, how could it get any bigger?”

…

So, anyway, as you remember, while Lapin was mic dropping over at the jail, with Theo and Cruller, the rest of the candy crew were en route to their quarters and everyone is feeling the gravity of the situation. Jet is trying to stand in the prime position to protect anyone who might need protection. Ruby (who has given one of the watersteel daggers she took--and which were apparently never confiscated from her--to Jet) is vigilantly looking for escape routes as they walk and she’s so anxious that Yak flies up and starts helping her scout.

As Jet talks about the changes she wants to make once she’s “king” (including considering installing Ruby as queen--platonically--which Ruby feels sends too Lannister a message) the more magically inclined members of the party (Ruby and Liam) feel a swell of magic. Liam feels like the earth around them is speaking and Ruby feels a welling up of Candian magic. Not only that, she sees a ghostly glimpse of both Lazuli and Rococco (who is smiling at Jet), but she thinks she might be seeing things and doesn’t tell Jet.

Liam asks Amethar if he’s in trouble and wonders again if he should just take off. Amethar says that they’ll protect him and, if he has to run, they’ll find him.

When they reach their quarters, they’re met by Amethar’s cheese friends who are clearly upset by the assassination attempt and offer their protection. Amethar says they can handle themselves and they should worry about Primsy. Once inside the room, the kids start full Home Alone-ing it full of booby traps and Amethar sends for Cruller, Lapin, and Theo.

And, speaking of, they, along with Grissini and a garrison of imperial soldiers are on their way to arrest Alfredi. Grissini is clearly nervous and asks Lapin to tag-team the arrest with him so it will have the weight of the church. Cruller thinks it will look bad if there are too many Candians involved in this arrest so, when the Tartguard shows up looking for them, he decides to leave Alfredi to them. Before he goes, Lapin suggests he look into boats for a possible speedy exit in the near future. Lucky for them (presumably, though I guess we’ll see) the people most likely to have spare boats are their friends, the Dairy Islanders.

Everybody else enters the Great Food Pyramid where Alfredi is talking to Senator Ciabatta in the presence of a bunch of Ceresian military (the actual Ceresian military, not Imperials like Grissini). Grissini goes into business mode and starts the formal arrest and Alfredi isn’t pressed about it until Lapin jumps in and asserts his authority as Primogen at which point she is suddenly outraged. Lapin publicly asserts that she made the daggers (gasps from the crowd) which she denies. Ciabatta for his part steps aside and lets the arrest happen. Alfredi tries to run but Grissini’s men tackle her and perp walk her out.

Ciabatta is being awfully chill about this whole thing and he kinda seems like he’s waiting for everyone to leave so he can talk to Lapin. Theo goes to make sure Alfredi gets properly jailed. Once they’re gone, Ciabatta says that Lapin was very bold to come in and arrest Alfredi basically on her home turf, a compliment Lapin demurs. Ciabatta suggests taking a walk and Lapin agrees. Before they leave, Ciabatta looks at some of the other senators who were also with them but on a Nat 1, gleans no info. Ciabatta says that it’s a little odd that with all the might of Ceresia, no one thinks they’re a big enough target to take down with back to back assassination attempts. He does not seem to have a high opinion of Alfredi and offers Lapin a chance to come with him on a sneak mission (along with anyone Lapin wants to bring) to figure out what’s what on Alfredi. Lapin agrees and gives him a card with Illusory Script so that whatever messenger he sends will hand it back to him as a calling card and he can verify it’s legit.

He tries to get a read on Ciabatta to see what this guy is about and on a 19 Insight and a 24 History, he knows that he clawed his way from the bottom of the social pecking order to become a senator 4 years ago. He’s a great fighter, a war hero, and he “rules”.

At the jail, Theo makes sure Alfredi is secured (she’s gagged in addition to being bound so she can’t cast spells) and then heads back to the Candian quarters.

Rewards and Recon

Once everyone is back together, Amethar sends Lady Donetta to entertain the Swirlies so he only has the people he truly trusts in the room. They lock the door, Ruby magics up some music to mask their conversation, and then Amethar declares that, as of now, secretly but officially, they are at war with whoever is trying to kill him. The kids all offer themselves up as spies/protection but Amethar is not about them risking themselves like that.

As they discuss that, a Tartguard shows up and announces that the winners of the unfinished tournament are being honored, meaning Theo (who unhorsed--unmeeped?--Plumbline) and Liam (who was leading the archery competition) have been summoned to the emperor to receive their boons. Liam’s is just a cabinet appointment basically but Theo’s requires thought because he gets to nominate a candidate for emperor. They consider nominating Plumbeline as a good faith gesture but Amethar thinks it will probably be bad for politics to have an unbroken line of succession. Ruby think about Annabelle but they all agree it’s a bad idea (and she’s cool enough as is). Theo suggests Caramelinda but Jet, knowing her mom and her isolationist tendencies, thinks it’s a bad idea. Theo’s name is thrown in but he doesn’t think it’s a good idea and Liam suggests his traitor dad which Cruller full, like, soda out of his nose laughs at. Cruller also suggests nominating Amethar himself as a safe option, even though he’s already a lock, because there are some legal/procedural protections he gets that way.

Lapin tells everyone about the meeting with Ciabatta and Ruby and Jet volunteer to go with him (when Ciabatta sends for him) and Amethar goes with Theo/Liam to the emperor while Cruller holds down the fort. Liam casts Pass Without Trace on everyone for some extra sneaking mojo.

The winners and Amethar make their way to see the emperor and run into Annabelle, the other champion, on the way. Plumbeline is there too and she apologizes to Theo who accepts it gracefully. Liam fully puts his foot in his mouth and asks Annabelle why she didn’t want to marry and she just goes off on him and his lack of tact, finishing with some Charm School 101 and the advice that he should, when he meets someone, give a simple compliment not related to appearance or anything personal and then bail from the conversation. Advice that he immediately uses in the next scene when he meets the emperor and says, “I really like your infrastructure,” and I cannot explain to you how good that setup/payoff was, you just have to watch it.

Annabelle says that there are two things she really wants (one for herself and one for her country) then asks that the emperor request that the Pontifex release Stilton Cordeau (the suspicious little cheese dude Primsy was flirting with) from his Bulbian vows (including celibacy)--he entered the clergy young and then his older brothers died at sea--so he can marry Primsy. The Candians gathered are flipping out internally but can’t really say anything without causing a huge scene and probably an international incident (AGAIN). Theo’s turn is next and he has a lot of angst about who he's gonna nominate to be emp--lol no I’m kidding. Murph pulls out a pre-made scroll irl, unrolls it, and rattles off all of Amethar’s titles, nominating him, obviously.

Official business taken care of, everyone but Amethar and Plumbeline leave. Once outside, Liam expresses surprise to Annabelle that Primsy has a love interest (I half expected Annabelle to accuse him of TMI again) and Annabelle says they’ve kind of been seeing each other since they were young but it was complicated what with her having other official suitors and him being promised to the church. Theo thinks this is a way for the Bulbian church to get into politics more directly by putting one of their guys in power but Annabelle thinks they’re pretty in it already. When asked by Theo, Annabelle says she doesn’t really care about Cordeau but she’s OK with him if he makes Primsy happy. When asked by Theo if she cares about Primsy (Charisma Check, disadvantage--rolls a 2) she gets really upset and basically tells him to F off and leaves.

Back in the room, Uvano tells Amethar point blank, get ready buddy. It’s you. Amethar asks if he can appoint Plumeline to his council and she seems very happy about that. Uvano tells his daughter to get the official papers to declare it but Plumbeline says the Pontifex is holding on to them for some reason. He says to get them, even if she has to disturb her.

Speaking of, Onionpatch (the Primogen from Greenhold) shows up at the Candian Quarters to fetch Lapin on behalf of the Pontifex. That’s basically a summons from God so he has to go, even though he has that meeting with Ciabatta. He trusts Ruby and Jet to go in his stead and leaves with him.

Ruby and Jet have a little chat about how they’re always treated like children (though it’s probably partially their fault) and Cruller is like girls, we let you in on the war council today and you’re going on a spy mission in like ten minutes. We respect you.

A Tartguard shows up with Lapin’s note (Zac, with a successful roll, retcons that he in the moment made it so that his friends could read his secret message/watermark too) now with added info, the symbol of a bakery. They sneak over to the bakery (Ruby the rogue getting a crazy 36) and they spot Ciabatta dressed in peasant clothes (as they also are). They sneak to an abandoned but gated palazzo (big, fancy, Italian-y house) outside the Great Food Pyramid and break in. As they enter, an assassin tries to get the drop on them but Ciabatta ices him immediately and takes the guard as proof that this is Alfredi’s secret house. There’s a lot of Bulbian imagery but Ruby can tell that they’re mismatched and BS, like painting random hieroglyphs on a set piece for flavor.

Ciabatta opens a door at the top of a set of stairs and they find themselves in an alchemical lab that’s just full of interesting stuff:

Ruby finds pure water and Jet finds mold both super deadly weapons. These are like tools for bioterrorism. They talk about how to get rid of it and Ciabatta says they’ll leave an anonymous tip to someone who can safely handle it.

Ciabatta finds eye-droppers and, upon using them, his eyes glow like Alfredi’s do, exposing her as a fraud of a miracle worker (I wonder if she has artificer stats).

Jet finds the schematics for making the water daggers and Ruby can tell that it’s instructions on how to make milk silk in a weird mix of Lacra and Fructerano (both languages she speaks--she must have paid SOME attention in school, or hung out with a bunch of multilingual circus peeps I guess) that would be common in the Yogurt Shoals. The recipe for milk silk is the same as how to make water steel, you just sub some ingredients. Also, Yogurt Shoals is the home of House Bleu! Home of Stilton--the heir--who is now, suddenly, able to marry. Emily feels very vindicated with her pasta/cheese connection from earlier.

Ciabatta finds a bunch of papers and starts burning them or taking them with him. He says that Alfredi was an expert on blackmail collecting (s/t very common in Ceresia) and the room is full of blackmail. He takes the Ceresian blackmail and implies that he’s gonna use it to clean house back home so Cersia can be honest again.

Jet looks for Candian blackmail and finds none, though she finds notes from the Pontifex about the Profidian Heresy and the Ramsian Doctrine--two terms she doesn’t recognize.

Anyway, they sneak back out, Ciabatta stone cold carves up the assassin's body for the birds (which begs the question of what the birds are made of but we still have a lot to get through so let’s just keep moving right along) and they part ways.

Lapin’s Big Day (Part 2)

Lapin is brought to the Pontifex who is, in a word, livid. She asks Lapin where the power of the church comes from and his answer of, “The Bulb and those it shines on,” does not make her any happier. She full SLAPS him and starts ripping him apart for publicly arresting Alfredi--making fools of them and weakening their position with the public--instead of letting the church handle it privately. Lapin says, since Alfredi and Kerradin are in the church, he doesn’t have a lot of faith that the church, as it stands, can handle their own business which was NOT the right thing to say.

The Pontifex gives him an ultimatum: Are you a Candian or a Bulbian official first? Lapin, doing as he’s always done, lies and swears to the church. The Pontifex says that this situation can still be salvaged. Alfredi will be tried privately and hanged publicly (gonna be a real fig leaf of a trial it seems) and then there’s the matter of Candia which is not in good standing with the church. There’s still that little matter of the magic on the Sucrosi Road. Lapin is quick to defend Ruby but it isn’t Ruby she’s targeting. It’s the much easier scapegoat: Liam, the traitor’s son who publicly did magic earlier the same day. She tells Lapin that he will arrest Liam immediately who will be put on trial for witchcraft, a crime with the penalty of death. Obviously torn (to us anyway) Lapin agrees to do it with an, “As you see fit.” He walks out with a group of knights to get the job done.

Back at base, Ruby and Jet fill in everyone on what happened and ask about the two religious terms they saw in the letter from the Pontifex. Nobody knows but there would be records of this stuff in a cathedral somewhere--it’s a big city. Based on what Amethar knows about Pangranos (which he says swings between an ineffective democracy and a destructive imperitorship) it seems like he’s going to try and install himself as imperator--Cersian senators are notoriously corrupt we learned in an earlier episode. They discuss whether the church is trying to get Stilton on the throne for the aforementioned reasons which leads to the news that Amethar was named emperor coming up and everyone is really happy for him.

And then there’s a knock at the door.

They open up and it’s Lapin with a whole mess of soldiers. The head soldier cedes to Lapin and lets him formally charge Liam of witchcraft on behalf of the church. Amethar (and Jet) are like absolutely not and stand in front of Liam to protect him. Theo Messages Lapin like, “Bro, what is happening? Please tell me this is some kind of plan,” and, Lapin, who knows that he can at least assure Liam a real trial with actual due process and that he won’t get disappeared in the night, thinks this is the lesser of all evils. So instead of fighting, Theo asks if she can give up his weapons and stay with Liam in jail overnight. The request is granted. Liam, in a delayed reaction, flips out (valid) and the princesses promise that they’re gonna be A+ witnesses for him. He asks if he can bring Preston to jail and I thought they would have a problem with that seeing as familiars are a thing but nope. The pig is all good.

Before he’s marched out, Amethar brings Liam close. Liam, so deer in headlights, whispers, “Don’t let them kill me.” Amethar responds that he would die before he let them kill him.

Liam (with Theo keeping watch) spends the night in a jail cell and wakes up to the sound of bells. The emperor is dead. And, guess what? The papers were never signed.

The Rocks family goes to the Emperor's chambers where Plumbeline is crying. Amethar comforts her. Jet says that she only took a short rest so she could look up those two religious terms from the letter. She found a book with the info but if she reads it now, she’ll miss Liam’s trial so she takes it with her. Amethar offers Plumbeline an out from going to the church but she wipes her tears and insists on going.

Liam is brought out. The Pontifex speaks and says the trial is being slightly postponed to deal with the emperor's death. She days the paperwork wasn’t finished but a successor was reportedly named. Amethar kinda prompts Plumbeline who stands and says that she was there when the Emperor named as his successor...Ciabatta.

Ruby instantly calls her a liar and Amethar stands up and makes his claim (not happy to have to speak against Plumbeline but also not happy with whatever BS she’s pulling). Ciabatta, btw, is not present for this.

With two competing claims, the Pontifex brings out the Book of Leaves--a Bublian artifact formerly belonging to Amethar’s sister, St. Citrina--which basically has Lasso of Truth powers. Lapin does a check to make sure it’s the real book and not tampered with in any way and on a Nat 20, knows that it’s the real deal *and* that he can glean info about the true nature of the Bulb from it with some more time. While this is going down, Jet is reading and she learns that the Profidian Heresy is an old belief of the church that the Hungry One is as powerful as the Bulb and they eventually decided that couldn’t be true and it was discarded as an official belief.

Back to the action. The Pontifex asks Plumbeline if her dad really named Ciabatta emperor and she is compelled to tell the truth. No, he didn’t. Amethar comes in for his easy lay-up but, as he walks up, in a little side room, he sees that Manta Ray Jack is chained up and he’s had the crap beat out of him. And the Pontifex has a different question for him: Who is your lawful wedded wife?

Amethar hems and haws but eventually is forced to admit that he legally married a woman from the Dairy Islands when he was younger and it was technically never annulled because of the war making things complicated.

The Pontifex, who is playing 4-D lightning chess, says that because he never actually divorced his previous wife, his marriage to Caramelinda was never valid which means that Ruby and Jet as bastards and he’s an adulterer in the eyes of the church, grounds for excommunication which she performs at once. Excommunication means no ability to hold land or title which means the crown of Candia moves to the next in line which happens to be Joren Jawbreaker (Liam’s dad--Ruby and Jet can’t inherit bc they’re bastards and Caramelinda has no claim since the marriage wasn’t official) who is in open rebellion with the rest of Calorum. Which means that all of Candia is now in open rebellion with the rest of Calorum. Which means everyone in the room can now be arrested as enemies of the state!

You *know* everybody’s rolling for initiative, and I’m trying to not hold my breath because it’s gonna be a LONG wait until next Wednesday.

Things I’m Concerned About

I almost feel like I should have a Things I’m Not Concerned About list this week to save time. What a roller coaster of absolutely insanity. And it’s only episode 5 people. It’s episode 5! You know that chart we all learned in school about rising action, climax, falling action? We’re still way on the bottom of the rising action part! There’s still so much buildup left but where is there left to go? This is like the end of act two of another story! What is happening!?

Annabelle said she had one request for her and one for her country. Then she asked for something for Primsy which sounds like the country one but I’m not convinced it is. Like, it certainly could be but the phrasing of that and lack of clarification has me wary.

I’m concerned Jet only got a short rest going into this battle. She got hurt at least some during the fight and I know she doesn’t need to regain spell slots but, like, a million NPCs are gonna be at this fight. This is not the one to come in nerfed. Like, I trust Emily to make judgement calls and Jet probably doesn’t have that much HP so a short rest might have done it but mmm, don’t love this. (Upon rewatch, she did get another short rest during the “who do we nominate” scene so maybe it’s fine but still...).

I really don’t see a scenario where everyone leaves this fight alive/OK. You know that Smash Bros screen where it’s like, “Everyone’s Here!” That’s what this is like. Like, can you imagine trying to escape the White House surrounded by secret service? Gah, I really feel like I’m gonna be writing a eulogy for a piece of candy this time next week. And, for everybody else, this isn’t a fight you win. This is a fight you escape. I really hope Calroy made good on getting that boat.

Gah, there are so many potentially shady NPCs to talk about. It’s not gonna dig too deep into any of them but just a quick look on where my head’s at:

Ciabatta: Is he corrupt? And it just within his country (and thus, not really the concern of the Candians), or did he put up Plumbeline to nom him? Where was he? Was he not at the trial because it was none of his business or did he not want to be there when things went crazy. What docs did he burn? Just the blackmail on him? What has he done?

Plumbeline: Who put her up to putting up Ciabatta? What does she have to gain from doing that (or lose from not doing it)? It was enough to give up a seat on the council and contravene her father’s dying wish. Did Ciabatta have blackmail on her? Did the church make her do it to have an excuse to question Amethar (maybe when she went to get the papers signed)? What did Ruby miss on her 7 Insight check right before they went to the trial?

Annabelle: Did she really make Stilton a viable heir just for Primsy’s sake or does she have ulterior motives? And are those motives personal or fully in league with some kind of conspiracy--possibly the cheese one in particular.

Pontifex B: OK, so obviously the church is shady. We got that. But what is their angle here? Is it as simple as Candia is doing the magic they don’t like, let’s remove them? And which parts of this (or, more likely, *these*--there’s got to be multiple things in play here) is she actually puppet mastering? I’m sure some of it is just the church being shady just because it is.

Stilton: I simply do not vibe with anything about him.

Just to put a fine point on it, if I--me irl--was attacked by people back to back, I would assume the attacks were related, but Amethar is a BIG target. It’s very likely multiple sets of people are independently gunning for him and multiple gunners always makes a mystery harder to solve.

Lord and Lady Swirlie are always around but being sidelined. Brennan keeps mentioning them and Amethar keeps stiff-arming them. I don’t know if they keep coming up because they’re secretly relevant or if Brennan is just a good DM (second is true regardless) but hmm. Related but not really a concern per se, I would like to know what Lady Donetta is like. She’s rarely around because she’s usually keeping the Swirlies busy.

OK, so Lapin. Yikes. He was in a bad position to start with but now, I don’t even know where he stands. He’s a Candian, but just the day before he said he was a Primogen first, right? So, hypothetically, he should be able to escape this and stand with the Pontifex. After all, he’s a miracle worker for all she knows (unless she *actually* knows). You would give your official who was specifically chosen by your god the chance to do the “right thing” right? Would that be a wise choice to make? I could see him doing that so he can be their man on the inside. Lapin doesn’t die but Zac has to use his backup because Lapin is MIA. But if he sides with the Candians, he’s fully persona non grata with the church and he’s already on pretty thin ice. Also, if the worst happens as I suspect and one of the Rocks’ family falls, what position does that put him in with his patron? Yeesh, I would *not* want to be Zac next fight.

Just to also highlight this, very possible that even if we have no deaths, someone gets captured, stuck in a dungeon, and put out of commission for a long stretch of eps. I don’t think the church wants them dead necessarily. Except for Liam who they for sure want dead.

I don’t know how fast news travels in Calorum but Caramelinda is in for a SHOCK. Also, I wonder what was meant by, “What the world took from her”? (Caramelinda’s reason for not really caring about the rest of the world when they’re discussing whether she should be nom’d). Like, is it just general war stuff or something specific? Oh and, in case it wasn’t mentioned before, she’s originally from House Meringue, and that’s her house again now that her marriage is legally invalid.

I think it was said that Gustavo was a little more lucid this time then when they talked. Then the Pontifex gets the papers and he just dies? Could just be a coincidence, but poison has been established in this story already at least twice and Liam even thought to check for poison (though he wasn’t able to) so I’m keeping an eye out.

OK, this episode was A Lot so, this week, I’m adding a section to shout out the funniest parts of this episode and it’s called:

Sunny Side Up

Theo barking at the Tartguard, “DO A SADDER DANCE” had me DYING.

As did Murph going through the motions of the nomination conversation like he didn’t have a scroll ready to go that he’d made in advance.

When they Home Alone their room, Ally says, “I have a bunch of micromachines and they’re peppermint.”

When Brennan/Ciabatta was going through pronouns and Jet was like, “Or a spaghetti person,” and Ciabatta was like, “Tbh, that will prob be the case regardless.” Also, the very Brennan double peace signs at the end.

When they’re like, “We should make Preston King,” and Calroy is like, “Emperor,” like that’s the only wrong part of that.

Five A Lot More Things

Lol at Brennan going through the mechanics of the trial like there was ever gonna be a trial.

Grissini, man. He’s at the fight and while I would not blame him for following orders I would love for him to be exactly who I hope he is and if not fully defect, maybe throw the Candians a sneaky Help action. I know hope only exists to be destroyed in shows like this but I want what I want, OK?

What an exquisitely DM’d episode. Giving the players an agonizing political minefield of a decision in disguise as a reward is brilliant. The jump between the spy stuff and the church stuff and then the whole lead up to the arrest? Like, I knew Liam was gonna take the fall for Ruby from last episode and that was still a gut punch. And then making it seem like Liam’s head was on the chopping block and then BOOM, nope. It’s actually everybody? The uno post by @aydaspastlives is both the funniest D20 post this week and the best description on the insanity that we saw. Most fun I’ve ever had being womped. Well done Brennan.

I realized this episode when I accidentally typed Pete instead of Liam because of the Peppermint alliteration that Pete had a peppermint tooth from like episode 2 onward of TUC. Connections!

If you follow me for non D&D stuff know I’m very into Six the musical and I can’t hear the word excommunicated with doing it in my head like in Don’t Lose Ur Head which was jarring, as I’m sure you can imagine.

We were all bracing for bastards but the bastards were with us all along! Very wild. I wonder if/how that reveal would have gone down if Amethar had died. And I really wonder if there is still another child. The Pontifex didn’t mention, but that could be a good pawn for later, both for her or for Brennan. Or someone’s second character, who knows? Also, I very much want to know more about this milk maid and how literal that description is.

Edit: I can’t believe I forgot to mention this before but the delicious monkey paw-ness of Ruby and Jet continually talking about how they don’t want to be royal and then suddenly being branded bastards in front of everyone? Amazing. Also the little, “Call me that one more time,” from Ruby. So good.

I wonder if the protections Amethar got by Theo naming him do him any good in this situation.

What does bread bleed, Brennan? Please? Why are you doing this to me? Why are you making me consider this? Also, why would Ciabatta just stick his hand in water like that? My guy, there are better ways to check the deadly poison other than directly handling it.

Brennan really likes naming important religious concepts, huh? No shade, I genuinely think it’s great.

I don’t know why I heard, “bacon steel” and I was like, “Plausible,” and then I heard “fruit iron” and I was like, “Absolutely not.”

Oh and just a quick note: Ruby and Jet double leveled last fight so I think they’re all caught up with everyone else now (but Liam might still be one level behind).

One More Thing!

This has absolutely nothing to do with Crown of Candy but I am still, as always, on my BS re: the Abernants and y’all should check out this amazing animatic by @crayfishcoffee. It is, hands down, my favorite piece of D20 fan art, absolutely period. I could literally go off for another thousand words but I’m being indulgent as is so I’ll shut up now. Go watch it!

#dimension 20 #dimension 20 spoilers #a crown of candy #a crown of candy spoilers #the royal report #I wanted to get this up early considering how much there is to process #also please watch that animatic #I'm gonna reblog it later so I can gush in the tags it's so so good

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hermitsdescribed · 3 years

Note

if i were to put an image id on my own post, what would be the best way to describe it? like what to put in the id if that makes sense

Usually, it depends on what you're describing. The context is very important. If the people viewing it are intended to notice specific things, those key details are important. For example:

IDs for fanart might usually start off with something like "a traditional/digital drawing, a clay figure, a 2D animation, etc," as you see fit. If the art has lots of detail on the outfit, describe that. Same with color palettes, poses, facial expressions, text, any key details. However, adding excessive amounts of irrelevant details makes it harder for the audience to tell what the focus is. I also prefer to describe any watermarks at the end, but it's not required. Just make sure to specify it's fanart so there's no confusion if it literally happened or not.

IDs for screenshots of tweets or comments usually specify the nickname and username of the poster, date, and content of course. The order of the tweets is also important, especially in situations where someone is quote-retweeting or replying a response. If it can flow like a short conversation, that sounds reasonable. For blogs like mine where we all know the Hermits, just a nickname is alright. The date is appreciated, but specific times don't really need to be added since it's usually inconsistent for other time zones.

Of course, there's still other things that can be described, but those are what I most commonly see.

Adding too many or too little paragraph breaks is another thing to be careful for. Screenreaders can read very quickly, but some prefer to choose lines individually to be read, and having to click a lot isn't ideal. Commas or em dashes are good ways to create separations. Some screen readers pronounce symbols like slashes (which are commonly used to show separation), but even mine doesn't.

I also recommend tagging things like keysmashes, all caps text, lots of emojis/kaomojis, etc. I know some screenreaders pronounce those things differently without the writer intending it to. Even my screen reader pronounces "id" and "ID" differently, as well as certain Hermits' names. Adding punctuation, including capitalization, is very appreciated.

I personally try to format things the same way every time, but there's no "official or required" format. If you accidentally switch it up every now and then, no worries at all! Again, if it gets the point across, it's alright.

I recommend checking out this link, or even looking up tips on tumblr from blogs dedicated to accessibility in general (unlike me, who focuses on a single fandom).

If you'd like me personally to write an ID before you publicly post it, I'd be glad to!

#asks #not captions #mod apollo #the screen reader I use is literally unable to update anyway lmao #my tablet's too old 😭#/lighthearted #I hope this helps #sorry if I repeated myself a bunch lol i can't tell

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fictionalarsonist · 4 years

Note

may i request nr 9 of your recent prompts with taeyong x reader?

「 unexpected encounter 」

pairing ›_ taeyong x readerwith ›_ jaehyun ; doyoungcontent ›_ slice of life-y ; flirting ; friendshiprating ›_pgwc ›_2k

―

premise ›_After moving to a big city, you find yourself missing everything about home that you complained so much. Taeyong was one of these things, but when you two meet again, by a coincidence, he’s nothing like you remembered. › One-liners Inspired Drabbles ― #9.“Hot, gorgeous, beautiful…whatever you want to call it.”

「 ao3 | masterlist 」

The cold streets makes you shiver even with all the layers of clothes you’re wearing, you press your dry lips in a thin line, but that only harms the damaged sensible skin. You’re not much of a winter person yourself; you hate all this cold, wet streets, the chaotic traffic and the annoying, disgusting steam. It makes you think of winter back home, it’s just as cold, if not worst – but you liked winter just fine there.

You miss playing in the snow, the trees always tinkling with snow, the smell of fresh winter mornings that isn’t tainted with the toxic smell of pollution. The bone, chilling cold was as pleasing as it could get, but there’s the fireplace and the familiar faces and your favorite bakery shop. You’re not quite sure if you’re homesick because you can’t afford going back home for Christmas or if you’re just not cut out for the big city. Funny, though, you were so eager to live the pathetic small town just two, three years ago.

It’s relief seeing your colleague arrived earlier, the lights inside the shop is dimmed, the closed sign shows on the glass door. You push open the door and the bell announces you. Jaehyun raises his head to see you walking in.

“Good morning!” He greets you with a quick, tired smile.

“Morning!” You greet, smiling back at him as he goes back to work. “You beat me today,” you hear his scoff.

“Well, I might pass out during the day,” you hear him reply from under the balcony and you stop in front of it, unbuttoning your coat.

“Another night awake?”

“That fucking stupid project,” he grunts before appearing from the balcony, his face twisted in annoyance, “I swear, if no one send me their part in this I’m just gonna watermark the whole shit with my name with big, bold letters. I’m not going to give credit to anyone.”

“Can you do that, though?” Jaehyun shrugs in response, “How long ‘till deadline?”

“Uhm- four days?” He frowns, looking into the distance, “Wait, what day is today?”

“Today is the 28th”

“Three days, then” he corrects himself, looking at you, “Even if they send something I don’t think I have enough time to edit, so-” he shrugs, leaning his weight on his elbows on the balcony. “I don’t even care about the fucking prize, the shitty award or whatever- I just want a good grade, that’s all.”

“Don’t worry about it, at least you’ll make it,” you comfort him, patting one of his slumped shoulders.

“You’re right,” Jaehyun replies more energetically before pulling back.

“I’ll get ready and come out to help you real quick,” he hums as you rush to the locker room.

Inside the shop is warm and cozy and you, slowly, regain the sensibility on your fingertips, your lips, and on the tip of your nose. You go through the usual routine to get ready before meeting Jaehyun outside.

“What’s left for me?” You ask, finishing to tie your apron.

“Those two needed to be cleaned. I’m gonna get the pies-”

“Okay,” you shrug

“The espresso machine’s already on,” he warns over his shoulder.

There’s nothing but the sounds of Jaehyun at the back while you clean the machines, but this silence is welcoming and even relaxing. It contrasts so much with the view beyond the glass door. The chaotic traffic and people walking up and down the street. You enjoy these times before opening the shop, not knowing how the rest of the day would be.

***

Taeyong looked through the car window, irritated with the stillness. The car’s been stuck in traffic, not being able to move for far too long. Clicking his tongue, he lowers the partition with an impatient sigh. His driver looks at the review mirror, waiting. Ten, sitting by his side, spares him a watchful look.

“Isn’t there anything we can do to get out of here?” Taeyong asks, impatient.

“I ‘m afraid not, sir.” The driver replies with a trained apologetic tone.

Upset, Taeyong slumps back on his seat, undoing the button of his suit, blowing air out of his lungs, trying to tone down his anger.

“Are we too far from the company?” Taeyong asks, this time his questions directed at Ten, sitting by his side.

Doyoung spares a look at the map on his phone before replying.

“I’m afraid so.”

This reply only causes Taeyong to be even more discontent with the whole situation.

“This is ridiculous,” Taeyong protests in severe exasperation.

He glances outside yet again and sees you running out the door after a client.

“Taeyong, if you-” Doyoung’s cut off when Taeyong pushes the door open, letting the frigid wintery weather in the perfectly warm, luxurious car. “Taeyong!”

Before he could say anything else Taeyong’s walking on the wet streets, with drizzling rain falling on him.

“Park the car somewhere, don’t move anywhere without us.” Doyoung orders the driver and doesn’t wait for the response, already pushing the door open and chasing after his boss with an umbrella.

***

As soon as the sign at the door shows the coffee shop is open people come in, seeking the warmth and coziness as well as the drinks. Jaehyun busies himself to serve a couple of tables as you take his place at the balcony.

“What can I get-”

“Hey, Y/n!”

You blink, not quite believing the dazzling smile directed to you belongs to the awkward boy you had a crush on back in high school. Though now, Taeyong looks nothing like he did then. It hasn’t been that long and yet, he changed more than you could ever think.

“Taeyong?” You gaped.

“Taeyong!” Doyoung calls, hurrying after him inside the coffee shop, “If you want we can go back to the hotel and I rearrange the meeting-”

Doyoung’s words are cut off, noticing Taeyong isn’t giving him any attention. Doyoung turns to look at you, someone who looks… Quite average, nothing like Taeyong’s usual interests.

“We can discuss something like this later, Doyoung.” Taeyong says rather gentle and that gets Doyoung puzzled.

“Yes, of course. Should I get you a table?” Doyoung asks with a light frown.

“I think Y/n could do that for me. Couldn’t you?”

“Uhm- I-” You start, but protests of the customers lined up cut your words. Taeyong wasn’t even in the queue.

“Hey, dude! I don’t care if you’re here for coffee or you just wanna flirt, but get in line.” Someone says aggressively and Doyoung gets between the two people just so the other wouldn’t dare to push Taeyong as they intended to.

“Hey, Y/n!” You hear Jaehyun whisper by your side and you jolt in surprise, “I’ll take care of this, get him a table or something”

Jaehyun’s fast at the job and you step out of the balcony. Taeyong follows you to a more private table.

“Is this place yours?” He asks when you handle him a menu.

“No, I just- work here”

“And when are you free?” He places the menu on the table without even glancing at it while you stand there, waiting to get the order.

Your eyes wander around and you can tell there are quite the number of people looking at him. It’s not everyday someone like Taeyong comes along to place like that, people like him or, at least, the way he looks right now are usually found in over the top, expensive, luxurious restaurants, ordering food which you can’t even begin to imagine the names of, let alone pronounce if you ever came across.

“Y/n?” He asks again, in an inducing tone. With that smile that knocks the wind out of your lungs. You can’t believe you still have a crush on him after so long.

“Uh- Yes. Yes, what’s your order?” You ask automatically after snapping back to reality. He chuckles charmingly.

“I asked, when are you free?”

“At seven. We close at seven.” You speak up before you could stop yourself.

“Okay, then- I’ll come back at seven, then.” He stands up and Doyoung stands up after him. “I’m really glad I got to meet you again,” his smile looked quite sincere this time.

But that’s because, for a split second you could see the face of the boy you liked back then, instead of the arrogant man that was now taking your hand and bringing to his lips. You didn’t notice Doyoung’s eyes going back and forth between the two of you.

***

As soon as the shop got more of a free time, Jaehyun came to you as you cleaned one of the tables. Your mind went back and forth that moment over and over and still- you couldn’t figure how that could possibly happen.

“Okay, so- Tell me.” He asked, standing beside you as you repeatedly wiped the table, the same spot, over and over again. “Y/n?” He called, lowering his head to notice your eyes were looking into the distance instead of the the clean spot on the table or him. “Y/n!”

His half-scream made you jump in place and look at him.

“What now? Did you really need to-”

“You weren’t even paying attention to the table. What do you want, make it invisible or something?”

“Huh?”

He points at the table you’ve been cleaning, literally shining at this point. A wide contrast to the others.

“We have two options now, either we clean the others the same way or get this one dirty,” he says thoughtfully, looking around for a moment before looking at you, “But, seriously- Who’s that guy?”

“Who?”

“You know who,” he insists, chasing after you when you run away from him, “The guy that came here looking for you.”

“He didn’t came looking for me!”

“He came in, ordered nothing. Just talked to you and left,” Jaehyun states

“You- might have a point.”

“Who’s him?”

“He’s- He’s just someone I knew,” you try

“You knew?” He asks with scoff. “He didn’t seem dead to me.”

“Oh, c’mon, Jae! I had a crush on him when we were in high school or something, that’s all.”

“Did you date?”

“No!”

“Then, why’s he here?”

“How am I supposed to know?” You ask in frustration. You’ve been asking the same question yourself. “He’s different. He’s…”

“Hot, gorgeous, beautiful…?” Jaehyung mocks as you seem to search for words.

“Whatever you wanna call it” You say, impatient with the way he keeps joking around with you. “But I was about to say that he doesn’t look like himself. Like the guy I had the crush on. Maybe- Maybe this isn’t a good idea.”

“And- Still, you’re going with him?”

“I- You know, it might be nothing.”

“Yeah, and he might be a jerk. Look, this is what we can do for the day- You’re leaving with me today. We can do something fun that won’t end up with you getting hurt by the morning and leave me to take care of this chaos by myself. Deal?” You watch him manner his hand to the busy but now quiet coffee shop.

“What about your project?” He shrugs

“It’s almost done, I won’t add anything from anyone else by this point, so I can seat back and do nothing. So? Deal?“

“Deal.” You shake his extended hand to you with a self-assertive smile.

#kwordsmiths #cznnet #kwritersworldnet #ultkpop #mine #drabble #taeyong #lee taeyong #taeyong x reader #jaehyun x reader #nct jaehyun #doyoung

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tessatechaitea · 4 years

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Cerebus #11 (1979)

The only weapon you need to provoke a police officer to violence is scorn.

Sorry! The above caption had nothing to do with The Cockroach's first appearance in Cerebus and everything to do with how the Omaha Police arrested peaceful protesters by claiming that they're purpose was to "attack and/or provoke police officers to violence." Also, you can tell they're already spinning and lying by adding the "and/or" so they can imply that the protesters are planning on attacking police. And, well, even if they weren't (and they did say "or"!), their other main plan was to provoke them. But of course everybody whose ability to perceive reality isn't clouded by their incessant need to defend police no matter what understands that police will abuse their power at the drop of an eye roll. They believe any slight disrespect is an excuse for a violent rebuttal. They force physical violence on people whom they have no reason to arrest simply so the person can struggle against the assault, as any normal person would do, and then claim resisting. Police should be confronted by scorn and disrespect at every turn. Only when they learn not to instantly resort to violence and threats will they deserve to not be. Welcome to my comic book and/or police review blog! Deni's "A Note from the Publisher" continues on a theme that I hadn't noticed until just now: every new issue of Cerebus now seems to be a landmark issue! It's an interesting self-promotion take that I have to admit I'd never thought of trying. "Every new Eee! Tess Ate Chai Tea review is a landmark review!" You know what else is a landmark? Places & Predators, my Cribbage-based Roller Playing Game! You don't even really need any friends to play it. Just read it like a book and enjoy it! Or play it like a Fighting Fantasy Adventure Book! Use some online Cribbage app! Figure out how to use the crib in ways the online app definitely won't let you! Oh, the reason this is a landmark issue is because more letters came in than normal! It's a hit! Deni also reveals that she'll be making the Cerebus plush toys that were advertised in previous issues and at half the price! So kudos for stealing that job from the person who originally made them! It probably wasn't anything so dramatic but what fun is going through your life defaulting to the best, most optimistic possibility in every given situation? Have some fun! Act paranoid! Purposefully misunderstand your father and scream in his face! Kick a dog! Sorry! I got carried away! I would never kick a dog unless it was attacking me. But even then, I'd be wishing I was kicking the owner who let it go off leash. The dog doesn't deserve my epic self defense tactics in its soft face. But the owner certainly does!

The basics on the origin of The Cockroach.

I didn't realize Dave came up with The Cockroach because it was gross and disgusting. I just thought it was a more clever version of a bat, keeping to the shadows, hiding, surviving, a constant annoyance to poor people. In any case, The Cockroach is the greatest parody of The Batman, hands down. Because The Batman has become such a parody of himself time and time again, you just need an absolutely Batshit insane version of him. I don't do segues so Cerebus has come to Beduin to sell the Black Blossom Lotus. Just look at all the continuity Dave Sim is giving his readers! I wonder how many comic book fans would list "continuity" as their number one favorite thing about comic books? Like, are there people who would list that above great writing or terrific art? Judging by how terrible a lot of mainstream comic books are and how rabid many of the fans, I'd suspect it was a fairly high number. Maybe 65 out of 100, Bob. Change that card! The Merchant Cerebus deals with is a kook who might just have a super secret identity. It's weird to think of the Roach as being capable of actually living an independent life! I suppose he's just barely hanging onto his sanity at this point (and, of course, only during the day). But then he comes into the mystical aura of strangeness that aardvarks apparently exude out of their buttholes and he just loses it completely. He becomes less a merchant slash superhero and more a superhero slash zombie cosplayer. Also he becomes one of the greatest characters ever created! There are like four of them in the entirety of Cerebus! The exclamation point is because I think that's an incredibly high number and not because I think it's an incredibly low number. Most comic book's protagonists never quite make it to the greatest ever! Plus I'd probably give Cerebus more than four but a lot of them are just really good parodies, satires, and slightly-off representations of characters and people who already existed. The merchant buys the Black Blossom Lotus from Cerebus for 100 gold pieces and then promptly drops it out of the window and into the Feld River.

Not only does Dave Sim come up with a bunch of memorable plots across three hundred issues, he also comes up with a lot of good Dungeons & Dragons campaign ideas.

The Merchant pays Cerebus a sack of gold and gets ready for bed as Cerebus begins to leave. Before Cerebus can even exit the hallway outside the merchant's bedroom door, Cerebus begins to hear loud ranting coming from the other side. It's a lot of hissing and threats of murder. Against his better judgment, Cerebus decides to see what's happening and gets his first look at the guy who will be a huge headache to him for the next two hundred issues or so.

One thing I like about Dave Sim is how honest he is when recounting where he came up with or stole his ideas. He gives plenty of credit for the Cockroach and his hissing to Marshall Rogers and Jules Feiffer. It's admirable because a lot of people would just figure, "It might make me look less of an artist and who's going to know anyway?!"

Just a few days ago, my old elementary school friend who was blown up in Iraq and then became a comedian playing to Christians and patriots (which I mention so you'll understand how, as a wounded veteran, he'll never be criticized by his audience and he'll never really grow as a comedian) posted a Tik Tok on Facebook that was just a film of a television set capturing the "Masked Debate" bit on Last Week Tonight with John Oliver. The clip only shows all the clips of news readers saying "masked debate" and none of Oliver's or the show's set-up. He then watermarked it with his Tik Tok name. Now all of those naive followers who can only seem to reply to his posts with the laugh/cry emoji probably think he wrote it. Better yet, they're probably mostly Trump followers who would never admit to finding that libjerk Oliver or his show funny. What's even better is that the Tik Tok has some quote along top that's watermarked with somebody else's Tik Tok name! So it looks like Bob doubly stole the bit. Man, I wish I'd joined the army and gotten blown up and then found Christ and developed an audience of uncritical naive yahoos who would wildly applaud everything I wrote! Why didn't I join the army?! Oh, that's right. Because I believed I had a future right out of high school. Well, I guess Bob is having the last laugh now! Cerebus follows Cockroach across the rooftops to find out what's going on. He eventually witnesses the Cockroach confront a man in an alley, accuse him of killing his parents, knock him out, and steal his gold. The gold part of the night helps Cerebus to ignore all of the other confusing stuff. The Cockroach doesn't gloat for long. He's off to find another victim! Cerebus witnesses him mug another guy whom he also accuses of killing his parents. He also admits to doing this for thirty years. So now Cerebus thinks the guy is crazy but also crazy rich. At the end of the night, the Cockroach returns home and drops the gold purses into a secret panel in the wall. He falls asleep, wakes up, and, when he sees Cerebus, acts as if Cerebus were just leaving. So Cerebus realizes that the merchant doesn't have any idea what the Cockroach is doing. Which means Cerebus is going to recover those gold purses before the Cockroach comes back! At the moment, Cerebus doesn't realize that he's going to be finding thirty years worth of gold purses in the merchant's walls. Can you imagine how boring the last two hundred and eighty-nine issues of Cerebus would have been if Cerebus managed to steal all of the Roach's gold?! I'm sure some of you are thinking, "It wouldn't have been any worse than the last hundred issues we did get!" Also, can you imagine how fat Cerebus would have gotten drinking tons of ale and eating loads of rich foods? I'm laughing so much just trying to picture it! Ha ha!

Eight feet of gold would make Cerebus fatter than a domesticated raccoon!

In the end, Cerebus only makes it away with three sacks of gold. But in the process, he manages to completely screw up the Roach/Merchant equilibrium that's lasted for thirty years. In trying to exploit the man's mental illness so that he'd help Cerebus move the gold, Cerebus drags the Roach personality into the daylight. From here on out, the Roach will simply be a pawn of others, susceptible to almost any second-rate demagogue (although most of the people who subsequently control the Roach are of the first rate variety). The Aardvark Comment section was two pages this issue and had this letter that I don't think was being sarcastic?

I guess I also wouldn't necessarily consider a chainmail bikini as "a disgusting costume." He's probably thinking about Power Girl.

Also, and I admit it might have been a joke, but Dave Sim reveals that Ronald Reagan is Cerebus' father. That, um, makes sense! Cerebus #11 Rating: A. I almost gave it a B+ for variety but then I remembered I just read the first appearance of the Roach. I also forgot that my ratings don't actually mean anything.

#Cerebus #Dave Sim

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cjoatprehn · 4 years

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CJOAT: Announcement

Hello! I lost the entire first draft of this post, DEVASTATION ENSUES, and I decided to just announce the purpose. so! Origins will have to come another day. The purpose of my Logo, that has been processed in the copyright system that $55 was worth it all, is supposed to be a Artists support artists more organized system. While it is difficult for me to manage it all, until I figure out how to hire people, this will have to settle for now. If you have made art for me, or I have commissioned you to make art, for example, @cocofinny art piece of my self-insert, either to be kind, birthday, Christmas, or even because I have paid you. If I make any money off of that piece, GUESS WHAT, (Since we are using the cocofinny example) you, being the original artist, would be getting a check of said money that I earned in your mailbox, DMS, PMS, whatever! You would be reimbursed for creating that piece for me (or any of my hopefully a team in a few years) financially. and the cycle would go on...and on...and on...If you made any money from a specific piece I have made for you, then of course the same process would occur, reimbursement, and/or giving the exact amount of that money that you earned off of that piece, to help the OP, Original Artist, financially. It works both ways, everyone gets supported, everyone gets financially compensated, and everyone gets credited for their own artwork, thus attracting more customers for you, audience in your places, etc. etc. Basically this brand is supposed to be a blessing FOR artists, Struggling or not. All because I wanted to help artists who are struggling with their situations. It eventually will become a networking system and hopefully a mediator.

Granted, I will need a team to help manage all of this, and I still have a few things to figure out, but yes, this is the purpose of the watermark of my logo of my brand. To help others.

#CJOAT #Purpose #Artists #Support #Mediator #Blessings

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the-pisciest · 5 years

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VIRGO MERCURY “The Mercury Virgo thinker likes to tinker and has a knack for solving practical problems. She's prone to worry, though, and analysis paralysis. Virgo is considered a mercurial sign, and those with this placement have gifts of communication. The thinking processes are concise and have a sense of order built-in. If this is your Mercury, you're apt to be a wordsmith, someone that builds up language carefully. This orderly mind frame translates to a high level of competence in whatever field of work you engage in.You like to approach new situations in a detached way, and coming to your own conclusion after you've collected all the facts. This makes you a cool head in a crisis.You're able to be matter-of-fact when others lose their clarity in emotions or passions. You express your views in a modest way and don't usually need others to validate your perspective. The Virgo mentality is self-contained and whole unto itself, which makes you a clear voice that grasps the essentials.” Churchyard by AURORA “Words pointy like arrows Wounds no one can see He closed all the windows As his anger broke free I will not remember You as somebody nice Please will you remember me And cry?” Kathy’s Song cover by Secret Sisters “And the song I was writing was left undone I don't know why I spend my time Writing songs I can't believe With words that tear and strain your mind And so you see I've come to doubt All that I once held as true I stand alone without beliefs The only truth I know is you.” One by Sleeping at Last “Hold on for a minute 'Cause I believe that we can fix this over time That every imperfection is a lie Or at least an interruption Now hold on, let me finish No, I'm not saying perfect exists in this life But we'll only know for certain if we try.” If we Were Vampires by Jason Isabel “The fragile heart you protected for so long Or the mercy in your sense of right and wrong It's not your hands searching slow in the dark Or your nails leaving love's watermark It's not the way you talk me off the roof Your questions like directions to the truth.” Like Everybody Else by Lennon Stella “Been drilled in my head forever Be better Turns out I’m just like everybody else Don’t even go near a mirror It’ll kill ya Trust me you don’t wanna see yourself.” Smaller by Haley Gene Penner “It’s a tired fascination with everything I’m not and wasted nights wondering trying to figure out oh, maybe if I’m quiet maybe if I’m light maybe i’ll be something someone you would like.”

Monster by Lola Kirke “What if nothing's wrong What if it was all just a song Waves break when they want to Guess I should take a cue from some.” Cigarettes and loneliness by Chet Faker “I'm walking through each smile Everything is over turned See everything that dies It takes a small piece to rust Well now the stones been thrown The trust is dust.” The Wire by HAIM “Always keep your heart locked tight, Don't let your mind retire, oh But I just couldn't take it, I tried hard not to fake it But I fumbled it when I came down to the wire.” Bird Song by Florence and the Machine “Well I didn't tell anyone, but a bird flew by Saw what I'd done he set up a nest outside, And he sang about what I'd become He sang so loud, sang so clear I was afraid all the neighbours would hear, So I invited him in, just to reason with him I promised I wouldn't do it again.”

#Virgo Mercury #virgo mercury playlist #virgo mercury moodboard #astrology playlist #astrology moodboard

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steve0discusses · 5 years

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Yugioh Season Zero: Yuugi Gets a Tomagachi Pt 1

Hey you know what? Lets look at Zero again.

For those new here, I’m also going through Yugioh Season Zero, which is not the anime we got in the States, but the anime that came before it. It’s got all sorts of issues that 90′s anime tend to have, so, consider yourself warned.

You can read my recaps of just Season Zero by clicking on this link right here.

Anyway, it’s been kind of a while since I did one of these, and part of the reason is because I need to use a fandub in order to not have subs across the bottom. And that’s normally not a problem, but as you see in the corner of this next cap here, of the villain introduced this episode, this 3-Stooges-all-stuffed-into-one-body-suit-lookin guy, who has a realllllly weird tradition he does after beating people up,

We have an uhhhhh watermark situation in the bottom right hand corner. As an artist I have a hard time releasing anything with someone else’s watermark on it, but I have literally no other options, so forgive me, Team Millennium, you will probably never see this post because we’re a very smalltime blog. You can find their dubs on Youtube.

Anyway we’re here for pocket toys.

TAMAGACHIS. It’s been a hot minute since I’ve thought about Tamagachis.

(read more under the cap)

Mine are all gone now, I think I tossed them a year after I got them, the fad was pretty strong but short. Since most people got their Tomagachis second hand, (they were just impossible to buy because they were sold out everywhere), none of us had any freakin instructions so I had no idea at all how to use them and it died like 30 times. Usually several times a day.

Honestly Tamagachi’s are both the best and absolute worst child’s toy ever made.

And so Jounouchi’s going to go off about what a Tamagachi is (Tamagatchi? Eh doesn’t matter) but first lets just address the fact that...they’re in History class.

I mean....

...It had to happen eventually.

I’m fine. Don’t worry about me. I’m fine.

I’m just...

...

I’m fine.

Anyway, lets dive into Tamagachi (tomagachi?) physics. I think I spelled Tamagachi incorrectly in all of these caps and hell will freeze over before I fix them all.

These kids are WAY to old to be playing with a freakin Tamagachi, but I dunno, maybe it was different in Japan? My older brothers were playing with like Gameboys and the odd hacky sack during this time period. And then my one brother who refused to play video games that weren’t Basketball related got super into rapping into a mixer table (he is half deaf, he was v bad). That was it, that was their portable digital hobbies.

They saw my Tamagachis and were like...no thanks.

Anyway, the Yugioh Tamagachis have a little twist to them that no Tamagachi on earth has ever had the power to do. Like maybe this seems like pretty low tech to the babies out there who don’t remember these things, but listen--Tomagachis barely functioned. I don’t think they were capable of basic math. That is the only explanation to me at least of how they died so freakin often.

WOW Yugioh. I mean guaranteed, I would have been suuuuper into this when I was 10-11 but also...kind of WEIRD right?

And I mean, no worries, this is Yugioh, so not even Yuugi’s Tamagachi is going to score, but it’s not like they won’t try. TBH, Yuugi’s Tamagachi dates more than Yugi. Yuugi’s Tamagachi goes on more dates than Yugi has in 3 seasons.

Anyway, Jounouchi get’s rightfully scolded out.

And Honda is still a freakin weirdo, something I tend to forget every time I tune into Season Zero, much like this girl, who I also completely forget is a main character on this cast. Hi, Miho.

Of course, Anzu does bring up a good point...

...maybe Spanish is NEXT period?

Headcanon restored.

Miho seems entirely inept at life, to the point that she cannot both attend school and occasionally sweep up the feces of her pocket pet. She was kept up apparently all hours of the night, gazing at a little one inch screen and pressing one of three buttons.

(Anzu’s face trying to understand Miho)

Like I joke that I think Miho could easily be the super villain of this show but this episode she just pumps up the bastard like 200%.

(this is how I ended up with 2 Tamagachi’s, before I burned out and got rid of the little assholes)

So Honda, so horny he can barely think, decides to take care of this pocket pet because he’s pretty sure he can hightail it out of the country with Miho on a romantic trip to Sydney. It sort of makes me kinda miss when Yugioh was vague.

Sensing awkward romantic stuff, Yuugi gets the hell out of there, because weird stuff is happening in this bathroom with his friend, Haiyama, and while most people would leave the bathroom stuff alone, Yuugi has never been able to leave anything alone. Especially if it’s gross and riddled with collusion.

He finds out that Haiyama is giving money to the giant 3 Stooges guy who’s name is Kujiwara (Kujirada) or something like that. I’m hella bad at names and I had to look it up like four times. I’ll get the names spelled wrong like so, so many times.

All in all, the small little Haiyama is divying up money to the current class bully and Yuugi feels a very strong affinity with Haiyama because of it.

Sorry I just had to imagine for a hot minute what the Kaibas would bring to a bake sale.

Anyway, like, this is off topic but also on topic, bear with me, so you know how in Evangelion, they show up to class, and they’re like “weird that we’re in the same class with all the kids who man the robots, weird.” and it’s like “why do they all go to this class if they’re living in completely different parts of the city? Like this one kid is covered head to toe in bandages and then this other kid is the son of the head of the robot illuminati and this other kid lives in like a tent a lot of the time? Like wtf is this weird ass class?” and then, basically near the end of Evangelion you get this reveal (spoilers for a 20 year old anime, look away) that everyone in the class has been hand selected to be put inside of giant robots and that is why so many of them are just screwball beyond reason.

I feel like Yuugi might have a little bit of an Evangelion problem, because we’ve got this class of like maybe...20 students, and they all come from completely different walks of life in this city, and they’re all just a bucket of disturbing psychosis’. Like it is just so crazy that Anzu got completely possessed by Shadi, but this class is filled with so many assholes that no one noticed until she started choking Yuugi to death in the medical ward.

I’m just saying, I think Yuugi’s class was hand selected by the government for scary ulterior robot illuminati motives, and if I were to write a Yugioh spinoff, it would still be Marik’s Boat Time, but in the background of Marik’s Boat Time, these dumb asshole children would be finally forced by the government to use their inner asshole powers to mitigate WWIII against the space aliens (or WW IV, since I figured by that point Kaiba’s already pulled a III just by accident)

Anyway back to little Haiyama, who’s name I cannot spell right to save my life.

This part was real funny to me because when Yuugi went through this similar problem at the beginning of the series, he turned to a toy (or what he thought was a toy) in the Millennium Puzzle. Maybe in his mind, he’s giving Haiyama a gift to help him make friends like the Puzzle did with Yuugi. Thing is, uh.....this Tamagachi isn’t cursed with darkness or anything, so nice try Yuuge, this is a sort of pointless offering. It is nice, though.

Anyway, cute little Haiyama patiently takes the Tomagachi and walks the other way, as far as he can possibly get away, from Yuugi Muto.

DAMN, HONDA. THE BALLS ON THIS MAN.

This note is a note Honda wrote on like a permission slip, and then handed to a dude in class, to hand directly to Honda’s Spanish teacher.

How many jokes have I made that Tristan is the Mom Friend? Wow.

Anyway, this version of Tristan is about as bad at life as Miho is, so he’s going to just peace out in his bedroom playing a pretttttty boring Tomagachi game.

It really takes like just nothing at all for these kids to skip school, wow.

Anyways, they come across a rival game shop storefront, so Yuugi can’t help himself but admire the competition. Surprise, it’s just a different color of Tamagachi.

Before I can contemplate on why this one podunk shop in Domino is selling the only digital pet that is the best in the whole wide world, this happens.

So...that happens. That just happens.

And then we get this weird, very spooky sort of stalker footage of Kujirada, being developed on this amazing set of old timey software, check this out. Please admire how much 1999 is in these next frames.

This episode is particularly weird, but the whole thing with the photo taking is just...it is SO weird.

And like sorry to do this to you, but we’ll go over the rest of it in the next update, cuz this episode had a lot of stuff and so I made just so many caps but...holy hell this episode went completely off the rails. Like this first half is a whole lot of weird stuff but then the next half is just...there’s absolutely no way to predict the next half from the first half of events. It just goes completely wild.

Like this episode further proves my theory that everyone in this class has no choice but to destroy all life with giant mechs. There’s no other way. All of Yuugi’s classmates are here to end the world. Him included. This mess of a class.

#ygo #yugioh #yugioh season zero #recap #episode recap #photo recap #yuugi muto #jounoushi #honda #miho #anzu #tomogatchi #tamagachi #again I do not remember how to spell it

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weekendwarriorblog · 4 years

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30 Minute Experiment: Work #30ME

So I’ve already gone through a couple Pink Floyd titles and one from The Cult, so I might as well start working my way through The Godfathers’ Birth School Work Death in terms of topics for this 30 Minute Experiment. (For anyone just joining, the idea is that I pick a topic and write about it for 30 minutes straight, without interruptions. When the time is up, I post. No edits, no re-reads, probably many regrets.) Okay, let’s do this...

It will surprise absolutely no one that I’m a bit of a workaholic and I’ve been one for most of my life. I think my first job must have been when I was 14 or 15 or so when I got a bicycle and started delivering newspaper, a job that I quite liked because it was a quiet suburban neighborhood in Westport where not a lot happened. (I do remember one day being flashed by an older woman who came to the door wearing absolutely nothing not realizing I was on the other side leaving her newspaper.)

One of the weird things going on in this pandemic is that after losing a writing gig I had just started, it gets harder and harder to push myself to do the much-needed work I have to do, whether it’s doing these #30Mes or writing my weekly Weekend Warrior column or cleaning or working on some of my long dormant screenplays or even writing to my imprisoned penpal (who I just got a letter from so I need to get back to him fairly soon.)

At a certain point, everything seems like work, even if it’s just scheduling time to hang out on Zoom with friends or family, which is something I did far less of in the days pre-pandemic (Can we maybe start a new numbering system so that 2020 is Year One and every year that follows would be 1 Post-Pandemic for 2021, etc? It feels suitable.)

But this whole time and even over the past four years I’ve been spending a lot of time trying to find some form of steady work, and sadly, things were so unstable pre-pandemic that it’s only gotten harder as more of my movie-writing colleagues are losing jobs and there are far more opportunities. I mean, anyone who reads my Weekend Warrior every week (or EVER!) will know that there are still movies being released, even if not all of them are getting any kind of theatrical release. Some of them are even quite good.

I was talking to one of my colleagues last night about the work situation and how everything just came to a stop in March when most of us had things planned or in the works, which unfortunately revolved mostly around movies.

But the current situation has become a great equalizer in terms of people needing to cover a lot more smaller indie movies, TV series and streaming stuff if they want to keep their jobs. I’m pretty sure that the job market is going to look very different in a few months as the country starts slowly reopening, and I think the people who don’t want to do the actual work like going to see movies and having varied tastes, won’t survive. They’ll just give up and go take one of those regular 9 to 5 desk jobs that are out there.

Believe me, I’ve been ready to make that transition for a couple years as I lost a lot of freelance outlets, some being closed, others just going in a different direction. It’s tough out there, and it’s really hard for me to take any sort of dog-eat-dog mentality when it comes to work, because I don’t like seeing my friends struggling. That hurts me almost as much as my own struggle (which I’m happy to say has taken an interesting and slightly positive turn this week).

Sure, I’m definitely ready to be done with this and to get back to work, even though it’s been some time since I’ve had any steady work hours -- probably the Tracking Board where I was doing a 9 to 5 shift five days a week -- and I’m going to have to get back into some of the good working habits. I already try to go to sleep at a reasonable hour and don’t stay up past midnight playing video games (or Android games) or doing some of the other distractions that would keep anyone else from getting work done.

I mean, if you read today’s Weekend Warrior, you’ll see that I spent a lot of time watching and writing about a bunch of movies just so that people will have some idea that there is good movie entertainment still coming their way which hopefully they’ll look into it. I don’t want to too far down the tangential wormhole of the movie biz right -- I’ll have plenty of time to talk about that over the next few months -- but the pandemic equalizer that I mentioned hasn’t really helped the smaller indie movies as I’d hoped since people still would rather throw on Netflix or Hulu or HBO and binge watch some show or another.

I have a LOT of stuff that I’ve been meaning to watch but my desire to keep my brain in gear and stay motivated in terms of my writing has led to things like this experiment, which I’ve done a pretty good job keeping up with. If I really look at this to see how it helps me in terms of earning a living, I think I can say fairly that it’s a daily job that forces me to think and write quickly, which is something that’s important for most of the better writing jobs out there. And it only takes 30 minutes a day, so it’s not like it’s taking me away from any of the time-wasting activities I’d love to do instead.

Sure, I’m definitely trying to use this time productively even if the “work” I’m doing doesn’t do much to help me financially, although I will say that doing this stuff helps me both mentally and emotionally, which is half the battle when you’re dealing with a job and people you have to work with. I learned that the hard way at a few of my recent jobs post-CS, but I’m not going to get into all of that. I believe very strongly that sometimes you just have to do something to maintain your own mental health even when it’s not the best decision on the grand scheme of things.

I do miss having some of the structure of a job in my life even though I feel my calendar is just filling up with other things, even if it’s just doing things to help support my friend’s own mental and emotional health by taking part in their activities. Believe me, as much as the monotony of the day-to-day may have been getting to me a few weeks back, I feel like I’ve moved past that, and now I’m so focused and disciplined about getting things done, who knows? Maybe I’ll even have a few screenplays done by the time I’m allowed to go to a movie theater or press screening again.

I can only imagine how much harder this is for my friends and family who have gotten used to going to an office five days a week and have built their entire lives around that structure. Of my immediate family, only my sister and her husband and kids were doing anything in that vein, since both my brother and I have always been homebodies for the most part.

Right now, I’m not sure if I could even deal with going on the subway every day to go to a job, but thankfully, more businesses are figuring out how to stay running while allowing employees to work from home. At least as a writer, I don’t necessarily have to be anywhere, although as I’ve said before, I still prefer to see movies on the big screen... preferably without my own name watermarked across it. (This is done to avoid piracy, obviously, since it can be traced right back to me.)

Although I’m slowly inching towards a point in life where most people are ready to retire, I think I’ll be good to keep working in some capacity or other for at least the next ten years. The down time in between jobs these past few years has made it far easier for me to be thrifty so it’s no like I’m trying to support a ridiculous comic book habit anymore and have less need for consumerism.

I can’t remember if I discussed during the “money” topic but I do feel better when i know i have money just in case I want to do something fun when that’s allowed again. There have been too many times in recent years where I’ve had to decline an invite to go somewhere just because I was worried about how even spending $20 might affect my ability to eat for that week. (Yes, things got that bad!)

I guess we’ll see where things go in the next few months, but I don’t think you’ll meet another person who is more than ready to go to work for 40 to 60 hours a week once again, since I’ve also gotten better at scheduling my time. I mean, it’s still not great but when it comes to working, especially as a writer, I feel that I’m always getting better at facing new challenges, and I do hope some will still come my way.

I have about five minutes left to go in today’s #30ME, and I’m not sure if I have that much more to say about “work” right at this moment, but I do want to say that if you got far into today’s ramble, I hope you’ll drop me a line with some suggestions and opinions. It doesn’t mean I will change what I’m doing since as I’ve said, these are more for me than anyone else, but it would be nice if someone is reading them and maybe it changes their opinion of me (hopefully in a favorable way).

That’s it for me today but I’ll be back tomorrow..maybe talking about the “Birth” or “Death” part of that Godfathers song.

#30ME #30MinuteExperiment #Work

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peachywise · 5 years

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nullify part 4

an umbrella academy fanfiction // klaus hargreeves x reader

- part iv: the revealing file || part i ⋆ part ii ⋆ part iii ⋆ part v ⋆ part vi ⋆ more parts to be released

- synopsis: You had wanted to forget about the fire. Forget all of it. But then you were presented with a file on your life, given to you by a kid who knows all too well its contents. Looks like you were intertwined in something much bigger than you had ever expected all along, and you're only going to get intertwined even more.

- notes: so sorry this update took a while! i'm in my last few weeks of my university semester, and i'm busy with final essays. i'll try and get the next update out sometime next week but it could take a bit longer. however, I'll be back to a better and faster posting schedule in april. anyways this chapter is pretty five interaction heavy instead of Klaus, but i had to cut this one in half as it was getting too long, so they'll be more in the next part!! heavy trigger warning for mentions of abuse and fire.

link on a03

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“That was a bit dramatic, don’t you think?”

Letting out a loud scream at Five’s sudden appearance in front of you, surrounded in that ethereal blue haze, you decided he was the one being a dramatic little shit head. Even more so when he quickly went up on his toes and slapped his hand over your mouth to smother your voice before you could keep screaming and swear at him. You quickly jerked away, still reeling from the comment about the fire he had made only seconds before inside the apartment.

“Back the hell off or I’ll punt you down the hallway,” you threatened, flattening yourself against the wall beside the door, heart erratically pounding as you tried to calm your anxiety and the aggression fighting its way up.

“Calm down and just hear what I have to say.”

Calm down? Oh, he did not just fucking tell you to calm down.

“Hey hey hey, where are you going?” Klaus suddenly burst out from the now open apartment door, eyes flashing one side to the next until they landed on you. His taller figure stepped in front of you and he reached a hand out, placing it in a soothing gesture on your arm. His face was downturned in what looked like genuine concern. It was actually kind of nice of him, up until he said soothingly, “take a breather and calm down for a sec, yeah?”

You had to resist the unbelievable urge to stomp on his foot and then kick him in the nuts.

Closing your eyes and inhaling a deep breath through your nose, you whispered in reply so quietly through gritted teeth, “back away before I rip Five’s hand off and shove it up your—”

“Everything okay out here?”

Turning your attention to the large, blonde man taking up the entire frame of the doorway, you let out your held breath and opened your eyes. Five did as well, just as Klaus dropped his hand to his side, his eyes still never leaving you.

Your heart rate and initial anger had started to simmer down a bit at the continual tug and pull of the situations you kept finding yourself in, enough so that your curiosity of everything was starting to take hold once more. But you were still reluctant to step back into that apartment. Your trust was wary, at least in the case of some of them. Right now, you only trusted Klaus. He had been a loud and obnoxious pain in the ass, but hell, he hadn’t tried to hide anything from you and had basically answered most of what you assumed he could. If anything, he had overshared. You wished you could forget the story he had told you on your walk over here. He had way too vividly description how once on impulse he had bitten into a live koi fish he saw in a pond in order to ward off a loan shark across the way coming to collect money. What was worse, it actually worked. At least until they sent another guy a half an hour later.

“Go back inside, Luther. You to Klaus,” Five directed.

Turning your attention back to the toddler in command as he spoke, you quickly shifted your gaze back towards Klaus as he inevitably went to argue, stepping towards his brother with an exasperated look on his face. You reached out to gently grab his shirt. “Just go inside.” You needed to figure out how exactly Five knew about the fire, and just how extensively the details he knew went. It wasn’t exactly information you wanted out in the open, and though you trusted the curly haired brother the most in the family to an extent, it still wasn’t enough. No matter who you had trusted in your life, it had never been enough to openly discuss what had happened.

Klaus snapped his mouth closed in an uncertain grimace, his unnaturally comforting green eyes flickering as he tried to read your suddenly emotionless expression. You released some of the tension in your shoulders and heaved a breath. “Seriously, It’s fine. But if you hear glass shattering just know I’ve thrown him out the window.”

“I’d like to see you try.”

Bending to the side to look at Five who stood directly behind Klaus, you raised an eyebrow in challenge. “Come here then, preppy.”

Five crossed his arms over his chest and sighed, glancing down the hall at nowhere in particular. Clearly, his patience was running thin. Good.

Luther didn’t even bother to stick around and watch the show, unlike the unmistakably entertained Klaus. He just wordlessly turned back around into the apartment, leaving the door wide open for Klaus to follow.

“Okay, fine. Just don’t tell them all the fun bits without us, brother dear. It’ll be too priceless to miss.” Klaus settled on saying, departing back into the apartment, flashing his cheeky grin as he did.

You turned towards Five once you heard the familiar click of the closed door, grabbing his arm as you tugged him further away from the door in case there were any eavesdroppers. “You shouldn’t know about the fire. The entire story didn’t even hit the news.”

He shrugged your grip away easily. “And who do you think covered it up?” He bit back, a pressing look in his eyes.

What exactly was he implying? The little dude was kind of freaky—less of a kid than what he looked like— but he would have been the exact same age as you when it happened. Ten. As capable as he seemed now, you highly doubted he could have been able to suppress what had happened in the media. Allison possibly could have with her powers, but even then, there were so many people coming and going throughout that morning that you would have caught sight of her. The Umbrella Academy wasn’t even in the same city as you, for Christ's sake.

“Are you implying that it was covered up, or that somehow you had something to do with it?”

You could have been wrong, but a sort of half satisfied tick tugged his lips up the tiniest bit. But instead of a reply, he vanished again in a blink of an eye. You were really starting to hate his power. Letting out an aggravated huff, you twisted around slightly as if somehow you would find him dramatically down the hall, but he was back in a literal flash in under ten seconds, except this time he had a file in hand. He handed it to you, stating, “I found this in Hargreeve’s office. Read for yourself.”

And with that little cryptic introduction, you gave a speculative glance before gently taking it into your own hands, slight hesitance overtaking you as you flipped it open.

You didn’t know what you were expecting, but it certainly wasn’t this.

The first thing that caught your attention was a picture of you at twelve years old, miserable in an oversized black hoodie, paperclipped to a copy of one of the social service identification documents used by your old foster caseworker. Once you flipped that over, you found and skimmed through written reports, Reginald’s familiar insignia watermarked at the top. In them detailed everything; everything you knew, everything you had assumed, every plot hole in your entire story.

Reginald had known where you were this whole time. He’d kept a watchful eye on you, and you had no doubt he had similar files on all the other babies he had never been able to get his hand on. One of the reports detailed the first time your force field had popped up. You were in kindergarten and some kid had been chasing you with those barely sharp baby scissor that couldn't even cut through shitty quality construction paper. In your instinctual fear, the blue bubble surrounded you and five-year-old Jimmy bounced right off of it, tumbling two feet away, landing on his wrist and snapping the bone.

No one had seen, other than the teacher who had immediately looked terrified and sent you to the office, rushing you there herself. When she dropped you off, the counselor intervened and talked to you, and by the next day, your teacher had basically all but ignored the fact it had ever happened. The kid’s broken wrist was simply explained away as him tripping on the floor. No one would believe a five-year old’s account of what had actually happened anyway.

The councilor, as detailed by Hargreeves, was an onlooker hired by him to keep tabs on you if anything like this had ever happened and to make it go away. It seemed there had always been someone hired in your school to do just that. To watch. To report. Intervene when necessary.

Then there was the report on the fire. It described how your mom had gotten up in the middle of the night to go to your room, leaving your dad asleep in his own bed. It continued to detail how she poured gasoline from your doorway to your bed, striking a match and dropping it so the flame would trail up towards you. Police documented pictures were attached of your black and charred bedroom, all your childhood objects nothing more than undistinguishable ash. They never did find your dads body in there, but from how everything had been destroyed, you had no doubt he was simply mixed into all the rubble and debris that had once made up their entire family home which crumbled in a single, terrible night.

The police report detailed all of this as well, in addition to your mother’s capture and arrest, which he somehow managed to get a copy of for his invasive file. But it lacked the details Hargreeves inevitably figured out. How could a child survive such a destructive event? You had walked out with nothing more than a severe burn mark on your leg, while your father who tried to rescue you instead of getting out had literally been caught in the crossfire. They had interviewed you, but you kept quiet. But Reginald knew it was your force field. He wrote about how he paid off multiple people to cover this up and make it seem as if it had never happened. Not for your sake, however. It was just so you would never come across someone who wanted to use your powers against his children. Like Five, he speculated that the force field could extend far past what you had always thought. It could render all his ‘projects’ useless. And he couldn't have that.

You closed the file without looking at the other pictures and papers littered within it. You couldn’t stand to look at it anymore. It would have just detailed every other moment in your life like a statistical, emotionless biography.

“I’m sorry about your father,” Five spoke, breaking through your reeling thoughts. You tried to stop the bile rising to the back of your throat.

“Who else has seen this?” You whispered, clutching it tightly to your chest as you met his eyes.

“Just me, as far as I know.”

You nodded your head, taking a second the inhale and exhale and suppress it all as you had most of your life. You slipped the file into your bag, stating without room for argument, “I’m keeping this.”

He tilted his head in affirmation, replying, “I expected as much.” Quiet again, you took just a bit longer to try and collect your emotions, turning your face away to look anywhere except the kid who knew more about you than anyone else. It was unnerving. Even more so as he actually seemed at least a bit sincere when he continued with, “I am sorry. But what we need you for, it’s more than this. More than all of us. I had to look at every single option wherever I could, and right now, you’re that option.”

You could take some solace in that. Five, you had come to figure out, was all business. He had a scientific mind, looking at everything as steps to get to a singular goal. He wouldn’t do anything malicious or invasive for fun. Well, at least he wouldn’t unless it got him to whatever goal he had in mind.

“You keep this to yourself, and I’ll listen to whatever plan you have in mind.”

Maybe you would regret it, maybe you wouldn’t. But the Hargreeve’s were clearly desperate for something—for help. You could respect that.

“I also won’t toss you out the window no matter what it is.”

That got a smile out of the little bugger, and an affirmative agreement of, “deal.”

Pushing yourself slightly from where you had withdrawn against the wall, you started to make your way back to the apartment, Five keeping stride beside you. Just as you were about to open the door, he asked, “so, are you going to tell me why you brought a clock with you as a weapon?”

“Nope.”

Five laughed. The bastard actually laughed at something you said. A small, breathy one that really was only a quiet huff presented with a smile, but it was a laugh nonetheless. “Alright then.”

Well, maybe this wasn’t going to be so bad after all.

Then you walked into the living area and immediately realized that it was actually going to be far worse than just ‘bad’.

“Are you wearing a G-string?”

Holding his pants in his hand, with what looked like coffee or tea dripping from them and on to the plush white carpet, Klaus turned towards you from where he had previously been glaring at an equally as annoyed looking Luther, a sly smile morphing his face instead. Slightly popping his hip coquettishly, he replied in a faux sultry tone, “why yes, I am. You like?

You shrugged, dropping your bag into the couch, already becoming desensitized to his odd and unexplainable behaviors. “Honestly, I’m just happy to know you wear anything under those pants at all.”

#the umbrella academy #the umbrella academy fanfiction #umbrella academy #the umbrella academy fanfic #the umbrella academy imagine #klaus hargreeves #klaus hargreeves fanfiction #klaus hargreeves fanfic #klaus hargreeves imagine #klaus hargreeves x reader #five #five hargreeves #luther hargreeves #allison hargreeves #tua

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