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americxn · 3 years

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Run (part 4)

wordcount: 2.8k

a/n: alright, so this was meant to be smut but I didn’t want to ruin the pacing by moving on too quickly so think of this as a little filler to the story. part 5 will be out sometime tomorrow, and it’ll be a spicy one.

Kai allowed you to distance yourself from him and the rest of the cult in the week following Liam’s death. You knew that he felt absolutely terrible for what he had forced you to endure and although he hadn’t verbalised it in the time since you had been unleashed upon Liam, the little glances and tentative smiles he passed you whenever you returned to the house were all the confirmation you needed. Kai had been quiet, thoughtful almost. And you had let him, resorting to keeping yourself busy and out of the house during the day, sometimes even spending the night elsewhere, minimising the time that you usually spent with Kai. To be honest, your own feelings were all over the place and you often found yourself gnawing on your lip, deep in thought about Kai and what he had accidentally confessed to you: “Why the fuck would I kill someone I love?” Maybe it would have been possible at one point, for you to love him. But you were angry, a sickening feeling of betrayal unfurling deep in your gut whenever you thought about him, about how he had chosen to believe a seventeen-year-old boy that he had know for two weeks, over you. Though, it was undeniable even to you that, throughout this inner conflict with yourself, Kai’s face spent far too much time occupying the front of your mind, each time you saw him, your brain emptying completely, Kai’s name being the only thought resonating throughout you.

Kai had let you take the week off attending cult meetings, and you knew that with each additional meeting you missed, his patience wore thinner and thinner, his guilt dissipating and giving way to irritation. And if there was one thing that you had learnt from this whole ordeal, it was that Kai abandoned any sense of morals and restraint that he may have when pissed off. And so here you were, stood at the top of Kai’s stairs that would lead you to the basement. His deep voice was already echoing through the closed door to meet you. You sighed; you were late. Taking the stairs down to the door, your hand paused on the handle. The last time you had gone down these stairs was to take someone’s life. You hastily pushed the thought aside, suppressing a shiver before pushing the door open and stepping into the room. Kai stood just before the little beige couch he usually took his spot of leader at, another cult member who you weren’t too familiar with sat to the side of him. Your spot at the other end of the couch was empty. Kai paused as you entered, trying in vain to ignore the entirety of the cult sat on the floor before Kai, stretching the entire length of the room. He looked at you, his mouth still open in paused speech, his hands frozen in gesture in the air. You stared at him, willing your shoulders to remain pushed back ever so slightly, the gazes of everyone else in the room burning into you. “What?” You snapped, turning your head to address the other members who stared at you wide eyed. “You want me to bow or something?” You demanded in irritation. From across the room, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed was Beverly, sporting a small smile at your unchanged attitude. A sea of heads turning hastily back to Kai was your only response, causing you to grind your teeth as you lowered yourself to the floor, crossing your legs under you. “No.” Kai said quietly. Your eyes flicked to his, watching as he extended a pointed finger to your old spot on the couch. “You sit here.” He demanded coolly, leaving no time for you to respond before he continued on with his speech, his gaze leaving yours. Several lips curled at this as Kai’s command crushed any hope that he would re-elect another member to take your place as his favoured follower. You stared with cold eyes out at the group upon reclaiming your rightful place beside Kai, a sense of cruel satisfaction filling you at the way a majority of the crowd cowered from your gaze, trying their best not to make eye-contact with you. The rest of the meeting passed slowly, dragging along until you had gone from perching on the couch straight-backed, to lounging against the soft surface, your head rested in your hand. You weren’t even listening to Kai’s dismissal, jolting in alert as everyone rose to leave. You moved to do the same, praying that Kai wouldn’t say anything to you and you would just be able to blend into the group filing out of the room. But of course, that was a fool’s hope. “Wait.” Kai said, looking to you as soon as you made a step to leave. “I want to talk.” You exhaled deeply, not feeling ready to talk to him yet. You swallowed your hesitation, forcing yourself to respond. “Yeah, sure.” The wariness filling your tone was obvious as you fell back down onto the couch, Kai waiting until everyone had left the room, the basement door slamming shut, before joining you. “How have you been?” He asked coolly, angling himself on the couch so that he faced you, his knees brushing yours. You hated the way the accidental touch momentarily emptied your mind, every nerve of your being surrendering to his close proximity. You swallowed. “Yeah, I’ve been fine. I spent a few nights with friends and stuff... that’s why I haven’t really been here.” You shrugged, your words trailing off awkwardly. “You don’t need to explain yourself.” He interjected, causing your gaze to drop to your clasped hands on your lap. His own eyes followed yours, landing on your hands. He stared at them for a moment whilst his jaw worked, causing your skin to prickle beneath his scrutiny. “Here.” He said, holding his pinky finger out to you. You cringed away, shaking your head. “Kai, I don’t -” “Well I do, take it.” You groaned quietly but lifted your arm to begrudgingly loop your pinky with his. “You know how this works so I won’t explain it again. I want to know what you’re feeling right now.” You sighed, glancing at him as his finger tightened around yours. His eyes searched yours with unflinching intensity, trying to sort through every glint of emotion that shone there. “I don’t really know how to feel.” You answered simply, shrugging. Kai shook his head. “No. It’s more than that. Tell me.” He said flatly. You tipped your head back at his unyielding tone, knowing full well that you weren’t leaving this room until Kai knew exactly where he stood with you. “I was angry. Obviously,” you began, breaking Kai’s scrutinising gaze to instead stare at your pinky entwined with his as you continued: “But now, I kinda just want it all to go back to normal. I killed someone Kai, the others aren’t going to forget that.” “Yes, but a sick part of you enjoys the power that gives you.” You cut him a silencing glare at his interjection, his words illuminating a truth that you had already come to know but tried to ignore. “I don’t know. I feel like I’ve thought about it so much that it doesn’t really seem to matter anymore. But that’s not true; you hurt me Kai, you almost killed me.” Pain flashed across his face. Pain and understanding. But he stayed quiet, letting you verbalise your thoughts and organise them into some sort of coherence. “For a while I thought I wanted to leave. I even thought you might let me.” You huffed a laugh at your own stupidity. “But then I realised that I wouldn’t want to leave even if I could. And it’s fucking sick of me, but I’m... for some reason, I wouldn’t want to distance myself from you anymore than I already have.” Kai’s frame went completely still beside you. You plowed on. “It’s like the moral... I don’t know, human, part of me is terrified of you, but some weird, primal part of me just wants to give myself over to you entirely.” At their verbalisation, your words seemed to come to grow into their full meaning, striking you with how starkly honest they were; your eyes prickled, a slight ache radiating from the back of your throat. “Like, I don’t know.” You mumbled, your chin beginning to wobble. You were aching to pull your pinky from his and cover your face with your hands but you refrained, not wanting to upset him. “Can you... can you say something?” You asked him in a quiet plead, your other hand rising to swipe at your eyes before any tears had the chance to fall. “I want you to keep talking.” His voice was so low it sounded like a growl. “I want you to keep talking about what you think of me.” You raised your chin to look at him, but his gaze was so strong that you couldn’t keep eye contact with him. “I feel like the longer I’ve known you, the more I’ve wanted to know you. Fuck Kai, there’s just something about you and I don’t know why it’s so scary but I ache to give myself wholly to you.” Kai’s eyes darkened beside you. “And then when you said that shit in the car, that you loved me,” you finally gathered enough courage to look at him, needing to scrutinise his face in order to determine the truth of his answer to the question you were about to ask him. Your eyes were red and teary, but you indulged in it, laying yourself out before Kai, willing him to pick your words and emotions apart to truly understand the depth of your stark honesty. “Did you mean that? Did you mean you love me in the way that you love everyone else in this cult? Or, did you mean it in a way that just applies to me?” “You’re a clever girl, y/n.” He said simply. “How do you think I meant it?” You huffed a sigh of irritation at his cryptic responses, but delved into his question. “I think -” you took a shuddering breath, struggling to put your response into a coherent answer. “I think that if you had meant it in the way that it means for everyone else here, then I would’ve been dead the second you slammed me to the concrete of that road.” He nodded slowly. “And why do you think that?” You sucked in a breath, knowing that he was goading you into dangerous territory. “Because...because you killed Winter.” You finished slowly. Kai sat back, seemingly pleased by your answer. “Exactly. See? You’re a clever girl.” “Okay,” you sat back, disconnecting your pinky from Kai’s. His hand dropped onto his lap as you wiped at your eyes. “And what exactly does that mean for me?” He studied you unblinkingly. “It means that you can take this in any direction you want. If you decide you hate me for what I did to you, then fine. Tell me to fuck off and I promise I’ll oblige you.” You processed his words, sucking on your teeth in thought. “Or, you can decide to give me a chance to make it up to you. I meant what I said, y/n. I’ve felt that way for a long time, and I will do anything for you to reciprocate that feeling.” He stood, sparing you once last glance before striding for the basement door. Pausing before the door, he threw his parting words over his shoulder: “Just whatever you decide, please stay in the house. The guest room is still set up for you. I hate not knowing who you’re with.”

You couldn’t sleep that night, mulling the conversation over and over in your head until Kai’s voice was the only thing occupying your brain. You tossed onto your side for the twentieth time, your eyes staring at the small line of light shining in through the crack under the door of the guest room. It was unsettlingly familiar, taking you back to the confined darkness of the closet Kai had thrown you in. You flipped onto your back once more with a huff, throwing the covers back so that the upper part of your body was exposed to the cool air. Kai’s room was just down the hall. Your stomach fluttered in forbidden possibility. Would he be asleep? If you went to him, would he kick you out? You turned your head to the little digital alarm clock on the bedside table. The red numbers flashed, notifying you that it was 2.30 am. Your hands fell onto your face. Stop fucking thinking about him, you urged yourself for the hundredth time, sleep evading you a little bit more with each time that your mind circled back to your earlier conversation. You bit your lower lip harshly in irritation, your arms flopping onto the pillow above your head. A flurry of butterflies swirled about in your stomach. Just go to him; he wants it more than you do. But it shouldn’t be so easy to forgive the man that almost killed me? Almost. And he would’ve if he didn’t want to keep you around. Yes, how flattering. He’s Kai Anderson, killing is like second nature to him. “Fuck.” You whispered into the dark room, interrupting your conversation with yourself. “Talking to myself? I’m going insane.” You didn’t give yourself a chance to reconsider, flinging the covers all the way back and lowering your feet to the cold wooden floor. Padding with bare feet to the door, you paused, looking down at yourself. Are tiny pajama shorts and t-shirt too much? You shook your head, forcing your inner voice to shut up. He’s probably asleep it won’t even matter, you reasoned with yourself, quietly pulling open the door and looking out into the dark hallway. Kai’s door was right across the hall and you crossed the space quickly, the intensity of your butterflies momentarily causing your nerve slip. You reminded yourself once more that it was just Kai and that, even if he wasn’t interested in you, he probably wouldn’t give a shit if you decided that you wanted to spend the night in his bed. You pushed open the door, not daring to breathe as you stepped into the darkness of the room beyond. The dim light flooding into the room fell over Kai’s large bed, his form a lump huddled under the covers on far side of the bed. You looked at him for a moment, at how small he looked huddled at the very edge of the otherwise empty bed. His breaths were deep and even as you eased the door closed beside you, skirting carefully around the bed to the other side and slipping onto the mattress beside him, turning so that you were back-to-back. His breaths faltered slightly at the movement beside him and you froze, slowly lowering your head to the pillow. “Y/n?” He mumbled, the words accompanied by a shuffling sound that notified you that he had turned over to look at you. You craned your own neck to look at his darkened face, swallowing. “Sorry,” you breathed, “I couldn’t sleep.” “That’s fine.” He reassured you quietly, his voice softened by sleep. “Here, get under the covers, you’ll get cold.” Your heart ached at his gentle command and he watched you carefully as you maneuvered your way under his covers, sighing at the immediate warm the thick duvet provided as it settled over your bare legs. “Goodnight, y/n.” Kai muttered as soon as he was sure you had settled, turning back around to snuggle deeper into the covers. “Goodnight, Kai.” You replied quietly, his pillow significantly softer than the one in the guest room beneath your cheek. Your eyes drifted closed, a sense of stillness and peace finally settling over your mind in the warmth of Kai’s bed. “Y’know,” Kai began, his voice muffled by his pillow, “I just can’t stop thinking about you.” A grin spread over your face at his words and you pushed yourself backwards slightly, sighing when your back came into contact with Kai’s. “That’s the reason I came in here.” You admitted to Kai, who merely grunted in acknowledgement, your words lost on his sleep-addled mind. You were asleep within minutes, Kai’s warmth leeching into you, the sound of his soft breaths lulling you into a satisfying sleep. taglist: @kitwalker02 @three-eyed-snail @forevercountess @kitwalkerangel @milly-louise @thecountessesglove (if you wanna be added or removed to let me know)

#american horror story #ahs #ahs cult #cult #kai anderson #kai x reader #continued #evan peters #evan peters ahs

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y0itsbri · 3 years

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🍺, 🧑🏻‍🦰, 😠

benja! hello! thank you for the ask! 💘💘 (sorry these got kinda (very) long and some more fic-ish than hc-ish but i had fun with it)

🍺 - drunk headcanon

lately, debbie has been flooding the gallagher fam groupchat with pictures of cocktails and mixed drinks that she's been trying from the new lesbian bar she's been going to. carl tells her no one gives a shit, but she just tells him to fuck off. ian always sends a thumbs up emoji in response to the photos.

"wonder what's in that one," mickey pondered from their couch, zooming into the most recent picture like somehow the ingredients were written on an ice cube.

"looks like 1.5 oz empress gin, 4 oz ginger beer, juice of 1/2 a lime, 1/4 oz monin desert pear syrup, and mint, for garnish, of course," ian confidently rattled off.

mickey's eyebrows shot up to his hairline, "the fuck are you? the lesbian drink whisperer?"

ian chuckled at the accusation, "found the recipe on pinterest. 's something called the prickly pear gin buck."

"on penny trust what now?"

"pinterest -- a website where you pin your interests," ian smirked like he was the most clever motherfucker on the planet.

"alright, fuckin' martha stewart over here."

"wanna make it sometime?"

"make what?"

"the 'lesbian' drink."

"nah, man, too fuckin' fruity and won't even get me drunk."

"yeah, well we're fucking fruity, mick."

mickey sent ian a death glare.

ian threw his hands up in mock surrender and a teasing glint, "alright, alright, but you like it sweet, so i bet you'd like it."

"yeah, i like your sweet ass alright, c'mere, dork."

"hey, mick, look what i got!"

"more toothpaste?"

"shit! i knew i was forgetting something... but, uh, no, i splurged on some things to make that drink debs sent that week."

ian looked so damn excited about this, he couldn't even make fun of him.

"double the gin. if i'm drinking it, i better get buzzed."

"done."

"and you're not tellin' fuckin' anyone about this."

ian paused too long.

"gallagher," mickey said sternly. gallagher. he wasn't messing around.

"aaaanyways, let's get it cookin', good lookin'."

for all it was worth, it was fucking delicious and mickey got more than a little buzzed. he woke up the next morning... or afternoon rather, with several notifications from the gallagher groupchat.

shit. he was gonna fuckin' murder ian.

ian had sent an artistic photo of the purplish drink topped with a mint garnish and another of mickey, blissfully unaware of the photo being taken while sipping his second? third? drink, cradling it dear.

deb: looks great guys! so good, right! 🥂

lip: mickey sure seems to think so huh? ;)

liam: mickey's gonna kill you for this, ian

carl: rip fly high bro 💀🕊️

despite the teasing from his brother-in-laws, mickey really did enjoy the drink and the excitement ian had putting it all together. debbie, ian, and mickey all start a new groupchat called 'gallabitches getting tipsy🍹' where they share all their new recipes without judgement. they later added tami to the group, not being able to drink during her pregnancy, but living vicariously through them.

👨‍🦰 - ian is tall and likes to manhandle headcanon

the only cabinet in the kitchen that's tall enough for their boxes of cereal is above the refrigerator. this is, of course, no problem to ian who is practically eye level with it. mickey, however, has a little more difficulty.

he thought he was alone in the kitchen, he had left ian finishing getting ready in the bathroom, when he wanted the goddamn lucky charms.

mickey ungracefully climbed on top of the countertop and acquired the beloved box of sugary cereal. right then, he noticed he'd been caught -- ian leaning against the kitchen wall, amused as all hell.

ian stalked over, "can't reach, baby?"

"got it just fine, thanks." but mickey didn't make any effort to get down.

"hey, you're finally taller than me, never thought i'd see the day."

"fuck off."

"hmmm, dunno if i like this," ian said, looking up at mickey, "might have to do something about it."

"yeah? whatcha gonna do about it, big guy?"

in a swift motion, ian nudged mickey's legs apart a bit and held them on either side of him. mickey threw the box of cereal god knows where, fuck the cereal, and complied, wrapping his legs around ian's torso and his arms around ian's neck.

"oh, you'll see."

😠 - jealous headcanon (also hi @gardenerian , here's a little bit of gardener ian content for you🍅)

ian starts bonding with one of his neighbors about their plants in the community garden at their apartment. mickey was totally on board with ian's rants about his tomatoes and peppers, but all mickey can hear lately is julie this and julie that.

"julie bought this new fertilizer for me to use on my plot! she said it'll double the amount of tomatoes we get this year!"

"fuckin' great."

ian frowned, "i thought you were excited about the garden."

"i am."

"then why doesn't it sound like that?"

"julie just sounds like she likes you a bit too much is all."

"julie?"

"yeah, man, buyin' you shit, now. why doesn't fucking julie just suck your dick while she's at it?"

"what the fuck are you going on about now, mick?"

"you don't even wear your ring down there! i bet the bitch is just trynna get in your pants."

"mickey."

"no, it's cool, i get it, whatever."

"mickey. i don't wanna lose the ring in all the fuckin' dirt, but i promise julie knows all about you -- about us."

"yeah?"

"of course," ian crowded mickey's space a bit, judging how much his husband was really mad at him. he tilted his head down, "come down there with me next sunday, yeah? there's nothing to worry about."

mickey considered for a moment. he would love to size the bitch up, even if he had to wake up a bit earlier.

"fine."

"mmmm, good."

the following sunday, true to plan, mickey followed ian down to his garden plot. he'd been down here before, of course, but never early enough to chat with julie. he couldn't see her now, though, just some white-haired old lady in a big hat with an orange cat perched on her lap.

"ian, darling, good morning!"

"hey julie, good to see you!" ian said smiling as he crouched down to pet the cat's head, "you too, george." the cat purred against his hand.

oh.

"this is my husband, mickey. he was finally up early this morning, so i made him tag along."

"oh, what a pleasure, dear," julie smiled warmly, "i've heard so much about you."

"uh, yeah, ditto." mickey definitely didn't expect this -- she was genuinely sweet. she kind of reminded him of his great aunt back in ukraine.

"remind me to give you boys my new recipe for lemon tarts..." she trailed off.

mickey sat himself on a red modern-style chair as the two chatted the latest drama of some pests on antonio's plants and how sarah hadn't been out in weeks to water.

julie nudged the cat off her lap as she gestured for ian to follow her to one of the flower beds. george made his way over to where mickey was sitting.

"they're some of the good ones, huh?" mickey addressed the cat.

george slow blinked in return as he flopped over on the pavement.

they basked in the early morning sun, watching ian water both his plot and julie's as they laughed about something he couldn't hear.

he smiled. he could get used to sunday mornings like this.

#ask #mrsinistertype #shameless #gallavich #ian gallagher #mickey milkovich #ian x mickey #shameless headcanon #gallavich headcanon #debbie gallagher #my posts

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flower-demise · 3 years

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⋆⁺ 𝔩𝔦𝔤𝔥𝔱 𝔬𝔣 𝔞 𝔡𝔦𝔰𝔱𝔞𝔫𝔱 𝔰𝔱𝔞𝔯| 𝖐𝖙𝖍 𝖝 𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖊𝖗

They say that when you are looking at the stars, you’re actually looking into the past. Many of the stars we see at night have already faded away.

And yet I found you

A bts au inspired by hotarubi no Mori e, howl's moving castle and stories without a linear concept of time

⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚⁺˚

✦𝕻𝖆𝖎𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖌 : 𝔗𝔞𝔢𝔥𝔶𝔲𝔫𝔤 𝔵 𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔢𝔯, 𝔜𝔬𝔬𝔫𝔤𝔦 𝔵 𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔢𝔯

✦𝕲𝖊𝖓𝖗𝖊 : 𝔉𝔞𝔦𝔯𝔶𝔱𝔞𝔩𝔢 𝔞𝔲 ,𝔞𝔫𝔤𝔰𝔱, 𝔥𝔲𝔯𝔱/𝔠𝔬𝔪𝔣𝔬𝔯𝔱, 𝔢𝔳𝔢𝔫𝔱𝔲𝔞𝔩 𝔯𝔬𝔪𝔞𝔫𝔠𝔢

✦𝖂𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘 : 𝔊𝔢𝔫𝔢𝔯𝔞𝔩𝔩𝔶 𝔪𝔞𝔱𝔲𝔯𝔢 𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔪𝔢𝔰 𝔞𝔟𝔬𝔲𝔱 𝔩𝔦𝔣𝔢 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔡𝔢𝔞𝔱𝔥 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔞𝔣𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔩𝔦𝔣𝔢, 𝔪𝔢𝔫𝔱𝔞𝔩 𝔥𝔢𝔞𝔩𝔱𝔥 𝔦𝔰𝔰𝔲𝔢𝔰 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔯𝔢𝔣𝔢𝔯𝔢𝔫𝔠𝔢𝔡/𝔦𝔪𝔭𝔩𝔦𝔢𝔡 𝔰𝔲𝔦𝔠𝔦𝔡𝔢 𝔦𝔫 𝔩𝔞𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔭𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔰.

✦𝕬/𝖓: 𝔗𝔥𝔢𝔯𝔢'𝔰 𝔞 𝔟𝔯𝔦𝔢𝔣 𝔡𝔢𝔰𝔠𝔯𝔦𝔭𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫 𝔬𝔣 𝔭𝔞𝔫𝔦𝔠 𝔞𝔱𝔱𝔞𝔠𝔨𝔰, 𝔞 𝔰𝔭𝔯𝔦𝔫𝔨𝔩𝔢 𝔬𝔣 𝔬𝔫𝔢 𝔰𝔦𝔡𝔢𝔡 𝔩𝔬𝔳𝔢 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔪𝔢𝔫𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫𝔰 𝔬𝔣 𝔞𝔟𝔲𝔰𝔦𝔳𝔢 𝔠𝔥𝔦𝔩𝔡𝔥𝔬𝔬𝔡. 𝔗𝔥𝔦𝔰 𝔦𝔰 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔭𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔣𝔬𝔯 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔰𝔬𝔣𝔱 𝔪𝔦𝔫 𝔶𝔬𝔬𝔫𝔤𝔦 𝔰𝔱𝔞𝔫𝔰. ℑ𝔱 𝔦𝔰 𝔪𝔢. ℑ 𝔞𝔪 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔰𝔬𝔣𝔱 𝔪𝔦𝔫 𝔶𝔬𝔬𝔫𝔤𝔦 𝔰𝔱𝔞𝔫𝔰.

𝖕𝖗𝖔𝖑𝖔𝖌𝖚𝖊 | 𝖈𝖍.1 | 𝖈𝖍.2 | 𝖈𝖍.3 | 𝖈𝖍.4 | 𝖈𝖍.5 | 𝖈𝖍.6| 𝖆𝖔3

(This is the 2nd chapter please read the others before this)

Chapter 2 : You are my best friend, even at the end of the world..

Dreams, memories you didn’t know what they were, only that as you passed through them you reclaimed a missing piece of you.

You were standing as a little girl in front of your grandparent's cottage, suitcase in hand ready to spend another summer. The moment you left it to the ground, you heard the waves crash in the shore and you turned to see your grandma peeling an orange and humming that lullaby she used to.

‘What is this song grandma? The one you always sing.’

‘Oh’ she smiled and offered you a piece, which you took gratefully. Her eyes landed in the place where the sea and the sky met, making the colors blur. ‘I see this..world extending in front of me and around me, I hold this orange in my hands and I taste its juice and I sing about all this, about their beauty’

You didn’t know if that was what you expected to hear, but you were intrigued.

‘In my mind’ she closed her eyes and turned towards the sun ‘It is the melody of life dear one. It is the same melody of the waves meeting the shore and the songs of the birds welcoming the spring’.

A quiet smile formed on your lips, at the wonder and magic behind the words.

‘Who taught it to you?’

‘Oh, no one I can recall, I came to find it, to create it by simply..singing’

You hummed pleased at the sweetness of the fruit. How can oranges taste better here than they do in the city? You wanted to ask but

‘Sometimes I hear it too...the music’ you confessed, a tingle of fear lingering in the back of your mind, of the woman been repulsed by it. A tingle that washed away immediately by the crinkling of smiling eyes and the warmth of a loving face.

The sun was beginning to set now and the sky had turned a light pink color

‘That’s very special little one, being connected to the other worlds. It means you will have a very interesting fate’

Comfort filled you. Even excitement.

‘Fate?’

She hummed. ‘I can’t wait to see what you’ll choose to create with your life’

You sniffed and she laughed. She always laughed so easily.

‘So, you can hear it too?’ you turned to face her but you saw yourself, staring back at you.

You were at your high school bathroom, in front of a full-length mirror, trying to keep yourself together.

Tired red eyes, ready to burst with tears. What was wrong with you? Why couldn’t you be normal? You had heard it again that day, the music.

It became so loud during class that you had to run in here before having a breakdown in front of your class. You were probably losing it. You didn’t give yourself this long anyway, it would happen..shit why did it have to happen?

You stared at your idol in the mirror, the plea in your face so hard.

just be normal, just be normal

‘Just be normal’ you screamed at your reflection and you heard shoes hitting tiles, the sound of them moving away.

fuck

Even the drugs prescribed to you didn’t help, they even seemed to make it worse. Your dreams at night were so vivid, so horrifying, so dark.

please be normal, please be normal

Now you knew. That the music had followed you throughout your life, it followed you like a comfort blanket when you were a kid spending time in nature and as a burden, a sign that made you stand out from everyone else throughout your teenage years. How could you have forgotten that? How could you forget him?

The boy with the mint hair.

It was late in the afternoon and you were walking home with your grandma after your regular walk at the sea.

You were kicking a little stone between steps when you thought you saw someone among the trees. You moved a few steps back and went closer to the bushes.

There, in a clearing among the trees was standing a man with his eyes closed, bathing in the remaining sunlight. His head was turned upwards towards the sky, complete peace in his face, that you almost didn’t notice the vines with thorns covering his wrists. He must have been in pain, though he didn’t show.

You were ready to crouch closer when you heard your grandmother who had walked up ahead call out your name.

‘I’ll be home before dark’ you promised quietly not wanting to disturb the scene unfolding in front of you. She seemed to move on then, leaving you to whatever fantasy you were indulging for the day.

You had stopped yourself inches before your feet touched the grass, as not to intrude a personal moment. Your eyes were wide though, taking every little detail in.

The boy seemed a few years older than you and looked like a fairy, the sort you read books about, beautiful and elegant and hidden in the forests. How did you of all people stumble upon him? The light was shining through his hair, giving him a warm glow. He just looked soft..safe.

The only thing that stood out in the pure moment were the dark vines with thorns covering his wrists. Even from here you could see little drops of blood. Your heart ached at that.

You were pondering how to approach him, if you even should or simply run home and let your dreams do the hard work, when you noticed a butterfly flying close to his face. Like he knew it was there, even with eyes closed, he smiled and lifted his hands, extending his finger for it to land on. When it did, he finally opened his eyes and his smile made flowers bloom in your stomach.

This was the time to run away you thought...

And the universe’s answer came immediately.

‘Come here’

His voice was warm and inviting like the summer itself. You didn’t realize at first that he addressed you, you didn’t even know when he noticed you. Were you being too loud? It didn’t really matter at that moment, as you timidly walked out of the bush you were hiding, an apologetic expression on your face.

His eyes lit when he saw you and motioned for you to come closer.

‘Move your finger’ he said, when you had approached.

You watched as he slightly connected your fingers, giving space for the butterfly to land on you.

It felt so light on your skin and it tingled, a giggle escaping your lips. You froze your finger to the spot to observe the creature and the patterns in its dark blue wings.

You let out a breath.

‘It’s pretty’ you mumbled.

You turned instinctively to the man next to you, only to see him observing you with a warm expression. You felt heat in your cheeks and he smiled.

‘Will you take care of her for me, when I'm gone?’ his question surprised you and your eyes flickered from the butterfly and back to him.

‘Where are you going?’ you couldn’t hide the disappointment in your voice.

‘A place far from here.’

Where? You wanted to ask so badly, but he continued.

‘Where I come from, there’s not much light for her. Her home is here with you, flying freely under the sun. Do you understand?’ he asked and you got the feeling his words held another meaning.

Nonetheless, you nodded and the butterfly flew away.

‘Promise?’ he offered his little finger.

And you wanted to giggle as you whispered ‘I promise’ and sealed your words in a pinky promise.

‘You are bleeding’ you broke the sweet moment when you felt a thorn cut your skin. This close you could see he bled green blood and you decided he was definitely a fairy.

He looked at his wrists then and a sad smile crept on his lips.

‘It’s alright’ he said simply and then turned to look at the sky once more.

'It's getting dark little one, better go home before your grandma gets worried’.

Right your grandma.

It felt like no time had passed at all when you were with him and a pout formed in your lips when you knew you had to leave.

‘I’m y/n by the way’ you said trying to savor a few more moments and because you really wanted to know his name. You knew that fairies and names had an interesting history. And so, by giving him your name and asking for his you hoped to create a bond of sorts, something..anything to keep the boy from fading away.

He made a theatrical bow that you found too adorable. Especially when you saw the way his hair boped messily on his head.

‘I’m Yoongi’. He spoke softly, a last remaining ray of light falling to his face.

Yoongi. You let the name find a home in your heart.

You glimpsed at the road that would lead you home, it had already started to look dark and long and you groaned internally.

‘Will I see you again?’ the question you wanted to ask slipped out and you thought you would burst in tears if he replied what you didn’t want to hear. But his eyes softened more.

‘I will be here little one, for all time, so you can visit me through your memory whenever you wish. And I will feel the sun every time again’.

You didn’t understand what he had meant then, only that it filled you with an unexplainable sadness. Still his answer satisfied a part of you and so you decided to venture home, but only after bidding him goodnight and waving as long as your eyes could reach him.

You felt yourself waking up, with his voice still in your ears, the tingle of the butterfly in your finger. How could you have forgotten all that? Yoongi was a central part of your childhood and early adolescence, like a lighthouse, a compass navigating the dark.

‘Yoongi?’ the name rolled easily out of your lips like it had many times before.

You felt someone brushing your hair, fingers trailing the lines of your palm.

‘I’m here little one.’

The feeling of someone you loved calmed your nerves and you stirred in your sleep, diving deeper and welcoming new dreams.

It was your second summer with Yoongi having become a part of your daily routine.

A regular day consisted of breakfast, swimming, launch, playing cards with your grandma and Yoongi. From late noon till the sun would set. She had asked a couple of times where you were sneaking to, but you told her about a boy living near the sea and when she said something about bringing him over you replied that he was very shy. And that was that.

You were fiddling with a leaf in your hand, the homecooked meal still lingering in your mouth as you laid in the grass next to him.

‘You never told me where you are from’

‘I told you I can’t speak of that place ‘

‘Not that ' you whined ‘I meant where you grew up. You never told me about your life ‘

your parents, your friends..

‘I.. ‘ Yoongi registered his words and after a while without an answer you turned to look at him. His expression was morphed into one of confusion.

‘I grew up next to the sea’ he said, his eyes here and not really here at the same time ‘I think I remember a shore. ‘ he started to look anxious. ‘I..’ he galped down.

‘I think..I think there was a dog too, running in the beach next to me. I don’t remember its name. I don’t remember any of their names ‘the realization hit him before you could react.

‘When did I forget? ‘

‘Hey’ you spoke softly trying to get him out of his thoughts but he only flinched away from your touch.

‘When did I forget?’ he asked again to someone you couldn’t see, panic taking over him.

‘There was the sea’ he repeated, chanting almost ‘and a dog and sweet music’

A ghost of a smile.

‘I remember an old piano with dark wooden color and yellow flowers on top of it. I don’t know who played it. I remember feeling I shouldn’t’

‘It's okay.’ you cut him of ‘It was stupid of me to ask’ Yoongi observed you, like registering your presence all over again.

He seemed to compose himself then.

‘No. You helped me..in ways you don’t understand’

‘It must have been good though, even if you can't remember’

‘What?’

‘Your life’ you smiled at him. ‘The sea, the dog, the piano it sounds like a good life to me’

He looked at you but didn’t smile. It was the first time he looked this..adult-like.

‘It’s late..better go home little one’

It was like a blow and you stood there frozen.

‘Did I say something wrong?’ your voice sounded crashed.

His eyes shot up.

‘Of course not. It’s just been a lot for me, I think I need to figure it all out’

You nodded.

It was the first time you dragged your feet while returning. The house with the unlocked door seemed welcome and familiar, a faint light coming from the window of your grandma’s room. Before you entered you turned around, where you knew the clearing was but couldn’t see.

Was Yoongi out there? Crying alone?

Something salty lingered on your tongue and it took you a while to realize it was your tears.

‘Shh’

You had been running, you remember that because your cheeks were flushed red and your hair was flying in all directions when you fell on the grass like it was a mattress, next to the boy you had grown to love.

It must have been your third summer together. And all year long you counted the days till you could see him again.

When the time did finally came, the first thing you did when you opened the door out of your grandma’s car was to run to the field, leaving your suitcase behind. And every time, he was there, standing in the clearing, looking the same as that first day. And the same sense of a longing filled you, had you running straight to his arms, burring your face in his shirt, each summer and a little higher.

Yoongi didn’t grow up like you did, you never asked him why, mostly because you secretly liked how you would be the same age one day.

Long term thoughts of how fast time passes and how easily childhood blurs to adulthood and becomes a memory didn’t really occur to you. Why would they ? Back then every summer seemed to last for an eternity and growing up meant turning eighteen.

The sun warmed your entire body and you felt like you were flowing rather than laying on the ground. Your breath echoed , the only sound between you.

‘A little more and you’ll catch up’ he teased and you rolled your eyes .

You knew him by now, all his teasings and all his antics : his long silences, the way he closed his eyes and scrunched his nose when something pleased him, or when he became too lost in his thoughts and a strange shadow covered his face.

And he knew everything about you, from all the gossip about your classmates to the dreams you didn’t dare share with anyone else.

‘Mhhm’ you stretched ‘ I love summer’

Yoongi let out a huff.

‘You mean you missed me’

Not that you would admit that without a fight, no matter how apparent it was.

‘You wish. I was pondering whether to come to this forgotten place or visit Sarah’s home for the summer’

‘Right’ he chuckled. ‘Because you like Sarah so much’

That sleeky..

You shrugged your shoulders.

‘I knew grandma would miss me if I didn’t come so..’

‘How’s your grandma?’ he asked with sincere interest.

‘Like she always is. Wears that hat, makes tea, reads her novels by the porch. This year she seems quieter though, less jokes, less sweet pies’

He let out a pained whistle.

‘That must have hurt'

‘Shut up’ you rolled your eyes.

‘Honestly..’ you signed and he picked a look at you from beneath his hand that sheltered him from the sun. ‘I think she just misses grandpa. More by the day. Thought it would be the opposite but..I heard her say his name on her sleep’.

‘Love like that isn’t washed away by years’.

You didn’t reply for a while, trying to form what you were feeling.

‘Love is a weird thing. I don’t understand it’.

‘I refuse to understand it’ you announced with eyebrows raised and he laughed.

‘Love is simple little one. Your grandmother loves you, like she loves your grandfather. And you love her and your mother even if she is the most irritating human you have encountered’ he mimicked your words 'and sometimes you want to spend time with people you love, sometimes you want to be cities apart. Sometimes you do part indefinitely but the love is still there’

‘Is it that simple then?’

He hummed.

‘It should be’.

Do you love me?

‘It must hurt her though, loving him while he isn’t around’.

This time he moved away his hand and let it fall between the two of you. It was peaceful like this, you found comfort in the spaces between the words.

‘It must be the same like me and you’.

‘Us?’ he questioned.

You nodded.

‘I miss you all year and even though you aren’t there I still want to hear your voice or lie next to you like this’. It wasn’t so hard to admit it after all. It felt like a weight was lifted from your chest. Your hand barely touched his in the grass and he moved his pinky to circle around your own. You stayed like that for a while.

‘Maybe I understand love after all’ you sing sang cockily. A comforting silence. Then the need to say it out loud became too overbearing, like a bird trapped in a cage, aching to fly.

‘Yoongi’. You hummed his name. He had closed his eyes again and this time droplets of light scattered throughout his face and he scrunched his nose in the way you knew it meant he enjoyed this.

‘Hmm?’

‘I think..I think I want to kiss you’. The way his eyes shot open in utter horror would be comical if not for your quick heartbeat which monitored over every tiny movement like a hawk locked on its prey.

‘Y-you want to kiss me?’ he asked like this was a melodrama series on tv.

There’s the calm reaction! Love is simple my ass..

‘I mean not now. But one day’ you held your gaze to the ground, afraid to see his reaction to that but in your surprise you heard the boy laugh. Not a teasing kind, a light summer laugh.

You joined him, you had no reason not to. Yoongi seemed relieved and youthful in that moment, like he recognized how young you were and what it meant to have a crush. He stretched like a cat. He did strangely remind you of-

‘Sure one day’. He promised.

‘What really?’ the excitement alone had you roll back to the ground, flowers getting all over your hair.

He hummed again.

‘It’s too much pressure to be your first crush. I have to appear decent.’ He began teasing you again.

‘Stop’ you giggled.

‘I am not a decent man. But for you miss..I might pretend to be’

‘Who was your first crush?’

Yoongi’s eyes lighted at that and you got the sense he wanted to say much.

‘Someone very brave, someone who made me want to be brave’

‘Is she married now?’

He looked at you for a moment and then laid back on the ground. Again with his secrets.

‘When you get older’ his voice was more serious now 'you will not even remember me. I will have become a part of your childhood, a blurry memory you won’t be able to distinguish between reality and dream. But that’s okay. It will always be okay little one, even when you fear it won’t. ‘

Why did he become this profound all of a sudden?

‘When we grow up the world tells us how it’s supposed to be, our life. We have a responsibility to ourselves to fight back an ignorant world, an old world with no soul remaining in it. To fight your way through alone is a scary thing, to fight with someone you love will the be the greatest adventure of your life.’

The sun was starting to set now, and the birds were flying home for the night.

It was almost time to wake up. Yet, you held to this like it was a fountain of clear water and you had been thirsty all your life. Like this alone held all the answers you needed. And you had to hold on, to cling for a little longer.

‘And you will find that someone you will love. That someone who will love you back against all prejudice and all possibility and all sense of the all knowing world. Someone good, who you can walk each other home. I can’t walk you home.’ he smiled almost sadly. But you countered his words. A strange feeling of discomfort blooming in your belly. Heartbreak.

‘Why not?’ you asked finally. You wanted to ask from the moment you saw him. Why can’t you come home and eat soup and play cards with my grandma?

‘Because I’m bound to this place. Not the field, the other one. The distant one, the one with not much light’

‘But I love you.’ You emphasized, not registering what he was really saying to you. ‘I don’t care that you can't walk me home. I don’t need you to, I know the way and grandma’s house isn’t that far’.

‘That’s not what I meant'

He looked at you, a knowing expression on his eyes.

‘Y/n’ he called your name and a bell rang in your mind.’ You have to wake up’ he moved closer and cupped your face with a gentle hand. You looked up to him with big eyes, expecting this to go differently than you remembered.

‘You have to go home before it gets dark, in the dark you lose all sense of direction, of yourself.’

‘But you won't be there..back home’.

‘I will always be here with you, you know that. You know that now’

‘No I don’t’ younger you mused with a pout.

‘You can’t cheat time little one, you will have to grow up, while I'll remain the same age. It’s only natural for you to let me go’

‘But I don’t want to let go.’ Tears were coating your eyes, you were acting like a child trying to hold to it favorite toy when you had grown beyond it , perhaps trying to hold to childhood itself with your teeth and tight grip.

‘But its okay if you do’ he assured you and he countered a fear you didn’t realize you had.

‘It doesn’t mean this will be erased, it can’t be erased, even if you forget me. You’ll always be my best friend..even at the end of the world’

The tears fell in your lap like the cherry blossoms fell in spring. You never had seen spring with him, or winter, or fall. Only summer. The time of childhood.

Understanding was taking root inside you and yet a part still desperately fought to hold on. Even to this day.

‘Won’t you be lonely if I don’t come anymore? Wont you miss me, young hopeful me If I put on my work clothes and get out of the school uniform?’

‘You will always appear like this to me. The girl with the big eyes and the kind heart.. the girl I had to convince for an entire month I wasn’t a fairy and in the end still say to me that that was a shame and that she wished above all things to be one’

You laughed through tears and he wiped some away.

‘Memory or no memory, fantasy or no fantasy, there’s no great truth to this world but this: I will always be here where the lines blur and I will watch over you. And you..you can tell me anything you want. But still my little one, who have outgrown me so beautifully you’ll have to wake up’

You blinked away the tears. It was you now, older and not much wiser that looked at him, lying next to him on the field, the sun long gone.

He was right. No matter the time or place you could find your way back to a sunny field and to open arms. Still, you felt as heartbroken as you had back then. And no matter the sting of it and the fear of reality crushing over you, he let a gentle kiss on your forehead and it all turned too sweet. How could heartbreak be this sweet?

A last lingering memory found its way on the surface. One, more bitter than any rejection could be.

It was one of those afternoons you spend time with your grandma.

After the meal she had gotten her old albums out for you to see and your eyes flickered between them and the clock on the wall, a little more until you’d go to him.

‘What’s this grandma?’ you asked when a particular one caught your eye.

‘Oh this?’ she smiled at the old picture, its edges torn by the years. ‘This is the choir I was into, when I was a kid’

‘You were in a choir?’ you laughed in disbelief.

‘Of course I was’ she mused, pretending to be annoyed ‘Come on, spot me’

You rolled your eyes but scanned the faces nonetheless. There weren’t many kids, ten or eleven maybe.

Your heart flickered when you recognized a familiar face among them. One that didn’t belong to your grandma.

‘Who's this?’ your voice was quiet, scared of hearing the name. Scared of confirming what you had feared.

‘Now I’m offended’ she joked.

The boy in the picture smiled at the old camera, a full gummy smile. He was younger and his hair were his natural color, but still you knew it was him. You'd recognize him everywhere.

‘Who is he?’ you insisted.

Your grandma pulled her glasses higher and took the album in her hands.

It took her a moment before she exclaimed a quiet ‘ah’.

‘I think his name was Min Yoongi’ she said between pauses. ‘But that’s a sad story dear’

‘Why?’ you hadn’t come this close to the truth before, no point crawling away now. ‘Why is it a sad story?’

She signed. ‘Oh well..he was a year younger than me, a quiet kid, used to come to the choir with bruises on his face’

You galped down.

‘He found solace in music, I think. Not much of a singer but, he used to play the piano. Fell in love with it. I don’t remember much and people tend to twist the stories so some of this may be false. ‘When she saw you were paying attention she continued ‘He dropped out of school which was normal back then for boys to join their fathers in the fields but he wanted to become a musician. So, he got a job and he left after a while to America to follow his dream. It was..unheard at the time to do such a thing’

Her fingers, long and crinkly traced the picture.

‘What happened in America?’

‘I don’t know’ she moved her glasses higher again ‘but people said that he found himself there.’

A smile.

��He wasn’t very lucky with his work though. He went to auditions and played at bars, maybe even on the streets, but he never stood out. He was..mediocre and New York was a crowed place, a blooming place. All that time and all that effort and all that love for a city that ate him alive. Maybe that’s why he left’

‘He came back here?’

She nodded.

‘I saw him around the time I had first met your grandpa. He had grown taller and he had an odd hair color’ she frowned and you smiled.

‘I saw him next to the woods his family used to have a home, which got demolished after they left the place. We weren’t that close so I didn’t say hi. But I thought it was strange for him to have returned to such a small village, to that place. Next thing I hear is that he died, hours after I saw him’

‘His parents had disowned him and run away to hide from their shame, it was me and other three people at the funeral. A quiet boy really, used to smile at the notes as he played them-

You run straight to the bathroom, not bearing to hear anymore. You locked the door behind you, as you tried to calm yourself in front of the mirror. She came knocking but you had your hand covering your mouth, little cries muffled by the skin.

You never asked your grandma about Yoongi again.

This chapter's moodboard.

Ps: I'd love your feedback!

#bts x reader #bts #yoongi x reader #taehyung x reader #bts fanfic #bts fairytale au #bts fantasy au #bts magical au #bts angst #yoongi #taehyung

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awesome-cookies-and-cream · 3 years

Text

Reki and Langa’s dynamic

It’s speculation at my part and a shameless rant on what i like about sk8 just to get it off my chest I’ve been so fixated help

it’s 5am I’m at uni and i have a shit ton to do, am I really gonna make an essay about sk8 instead? yes abso-fucking-lutely. strap on to your metaphorical skateboards kids. this is going to be long ride

this isn’t to call out anyone lol so in case you get that impression I’m sorry. I understand everyone is out to interpret media in whatever they like and that’s fine, but sometimes i feel like either some missed some points of the story? anyway here are my thoughts tho

alright so what i absolutely love about sk8 is how they didn’t make anyone into a genius.Genius is a mockery of the hardships everyone does to attain that level of skills. And no Langa is not a genius or a prodigy which I will explain later. I’ve seen enough shounen animes back in the day and usually it’s ‘annoying heart of gold beginner vs. calm and collected genius’ they usually hate each other’s guts and bicker all the time though secretly, deep down care for each other but would rather die than admit it dynamic. While I’m glad we’re moving past that, I really thought Reki and Langa would be like that so....

imagine my surprise when Langa was the ‘beginner’ in skating. He has the potential to be a second sasuke here lol. (blue, handsome, cool) but no he isn’t. he’s an adorable idiot, an airhead, head empty only skating dude and i love it.

Reki as well. He could have been the usual protagonist. (sucks at his sport, loud, hardworking, and by the power of friendship he suddenly beats everyone else which i think is pretty overused at this point, don’t you think?) some people complain how Reki despite being the MC isn’t given screentime and hasn’t won a single beef. (and sure that’s true. he should have won some and langa lose some but we only have 12 eps so lol) but he’s not the usual protagonist you know? and sk8 isn’t about winning. if it was, I think they would have focused on the techniques. the hows and the what to do.

Idk if you noticed, but sports anime with winning in its goal would often explain in detail certain techniques. (see haikyuu) but shows like Free and Yuri on Ice isn’t exactly talking about how to win that seriously as Haikyuu did. It’s more focusing on the feelings and how their lives are affected with their passion for this sport. it’s about the character development!!! and i think SK8 is something like that too. It explores the character’s feelings rather than sport. (like what i tell my sister, they use the sport as a character device if that makes sense?)

this was literally in the opening lol. it’s really about the feelings you know?

so anyway it’s been pointed out several times that Reki was already feeling insecure about his skills in skating since ep 1 way before Langa came. But he still likes to skate and despite feeling never enough, he still enjoyed it. (some also pointed out that Reki’s reason of going into a beef against Shadow has been because he insulted his way of skating not because he wanted to be the best) so the show from the get go was already hinting at his self esteem issues.

this also implies that Reki has always been feeling like this in a while, added with his tendencies to bottle things up, it makes sense that he’ll blow up at some point and he’ll need to release all of those feelings. (so yeah i think this is just the right amount of eps for their fall out. i see some people complaining shush. otherwise it would also feel too rushed. this is years weighing him)

and i guess it’s also implied in here he’s had days like these too in the past! seriously it’s an ongoing problem he’s been carrying. i think 3 eps is pretty good enough pace to internalize it

so point: Reki was already down way before Langa came. langa just added to that. And don’t go blaming Langa cause the boy did nothing wrong.

Consider that Langa just lost his dad (i think we need more backstory on this though. please sdsjkdksl i need little Langa and his dad interactions) he just moved countries, and the only connection to his dad (snowboarding) is gone cause it doesn’t snow in OKinawa

though one also argues that Langa hasn’t been snowboarding since his dad was gone.

so for Langa, Reki introducing skating to him was revolutionary. You’re someone grieving over the death of what is probably the most important person in your life, the thing you love the most no longer gives you joy (as was shown in the flashbacks and basically Langa going ‘it’s the same’) and you’re in a new country with a language you barely are fluent. you can’t even read or write, and you barely have friends granted you don’t have much back in the day. it’s horrible.

and then this guy you barely know talks to you, befriends you, helps you get a job, and teaches you something you thought you’ve lost and through that you made more friends??

yeah you see why Langa likes Reki. You also see why he’s obsessed with skating. It’s kind of like a coping, a fixation. plus he’s bad with social cues i guess? the interview says he’s likely to get dumped for being too inattentive lmao and that’s what makes him interesting!

also the thing that really surprised me when they first interacted was how supportive Reki is to Langa. it also got to me with how much Langa thinks highly of Reki. Again a deviation to the ‘i say i hate you but deep down i care for you’ trope. they’re full on supportive and protective. i like that. it’s fresh to me. I thought Reki was going to the tsundere ‘hmph that’s not a big deal’ route at the start of ep 2 but he’s really amazed. (kinda also says he’s been very desperate for someone to share skating with but that’s another topic)

so Reki teaches Langa how to skate. and Langa sucks. Which was interesting to me because I thought Langa would be some flawless prince-like character. But nah. He trips and faints at his own blood lol. He’s so uncool and i love it.

Some people say Langa is over powered with a thick ass plot armor which gets him to win (which is why i see people saying he should have won against Joe and I actually agree that Langa should lose some beefs but again only 12 eps, so little time)

but I still wanna talk about it anyway so it’s revealed Langa was snowboarding since 2. That’s 15 years. I think that should be around the same time Joe and Cherry should be skating. and i think if you start earlier as a kid, your body develops differently. (should Langa, “an amateur” win against Joe a pro? the question falls more on whether you can classify Langa as an amateur) i think it’s like Langa being very used to motorcycle tricks from age 2 then suddenly he’s using a regular bicycle, and sure the feeling is mostly the same but there’s just something off. Your body doesn’t easily forget what you know, especially if it did it for 15 years. and so Reki customizes a board for Langa so it’ll feel exactly like snowboarding

So Langa has a customized board that he needed to get used to before he went pro. He really sucked the first few eps lmao. but that’s more of him getting used to the new rules. he pretty much told Reki in ep 2 that he can’t do a skateboard ollie, but he can do a snowboard one bec it’s attached to his feet.

(i may just want to add that one thing i also like about sk8 is that it really doesn’t care what you need for accommodation? if that’s how you do it best, then go for it. When Langa says to Reki he can’t do the ollie without the board attached to his feet, Reki immediately goes his way to accommodate him. usually people in real life might say ‘it’s not real skateboarding if you need a modification etc. but look at Cherry with a freaking AI board and people are like yeah whatever do what you want man. whatever rolls your board.)

so anyway Langa vs. Joe with Langa winning despite being an amateur? if you can even call him an amateur that is. Plus all his tricks are snowboarding tricks lol. everything he’s done is testament to his 15 years of snowboarding?? We don’t even know how good Langa is in snowboarding. Someone make a post about how difficult the snowboarding equivalent of those tricks Langa has done just to show people it means he’s pretty pro (I’ll even argue maybe Langa’s real talent is his creative ways of going around things which kind of why Adam is highkey obsessed, and calls Cherry who calculates everything to the last second boring but that’s a different can of worms I’m opening later) plus Langa barely won against Joe so there’s not much difference in level i think. Should Langa have lost though?

I think some have missed the point of that beef in Reki’s pov. and if the Renga reconciliation is done well, it would be worth it.

that beef got Reki to realize he what he really wants! that it’ll kill him if he can’t skate anymore! that he doesn’t wanna only cheer on for others and be a support! THAT HE WANTS TO SKATE BY LANGA’S SIDE WHICH IS THE REASON FOR ALL THIS INSECURITIES if Langa lost, that cathartic realization might not have happened. He might have gone to Langa and cheered him up, brushed off his insecurities and, made up with Langa halfheartedly without addressing his problems

I’m going to go back to Reki’s insecurities. In ep 6 he’s been afraid of being left behind, and sure Langa came back for him but he still forgot until midway. (will that parallel how Langa got too excited with the idea of skating, the same feeling he thought he lost forever. The same thing that he thinks connects him with his dad, and might have left Reki behind, but later remembers and goes back to chase him? hopefully) in ep 4 it’s obvious he’s afraid of the near death experience Adam gave him, and he’s just realized how different their skills were. in ep 5 he worries about Langa, enough to get nightmares about it. mixed with his friend getting hurt. it’s obvious the feelings are very very muddled there.

So he begs Langa not to skate with Adam.

And what did Langa do? say that he wanted to skate with Adam. (again he’s not the most attentive. he probably thinks he’s just skating with his best friend, all is good then boom. Reki leaves. as a person shit with dealing with other people, i don’t blame him at all) he’s trying to fix it though, but his bond with Reki primarily revolves around skating! how else was he going to warm up with Reki? He also doesn’t know that Reki has self esteem issues that’s always been there since the beginning. He probably doesn’t understand it too because he holds Reki up highly. in ep 6 when Reki was going over his board, Langa thinks he’s pretty cool. he didn’t hear what other said to Reki. He’s earnestly having fun with his friend

We should also note that Reki was never angry at Langa’s skills, he wasn’t resentful that Langa was far ahead. Again he’s been nothing but supportive. He doesn’t want to pull Langa down. He wasn’t like Miya’s friends that lashed out at Miya for being better. in ep 7 he tries his best to follow Langa

it feels like he’s mostly regretful that he can’t catch up. he doesn’t want Langa to slow down, he wants to go faster and meet him where he was. So it makes the realization that all he wants to do was be in equal with Langa more frustrating because he thinks he can’t keep up. (and this only ever started when he heard he’s like Langa’s plus one. there’s that daunting feeling about being pulled around. not being his equal)

if you need further proof, when Langa and Joe were having a beef, he wasn’t aggressively hoping Langa would lose. in fact he encouraged him. He worries deeply He calls him out when he was doing badly. Still very supportive as ever. So really the frustration isn’t to Langa, again, it’s all internal. He wants to be better

so he’s feeling shit and Langa goes to him in the middle of the rain, bless langa for trying, thinking talking about skating (what he thinks Reki loves and would probably cheer him up, not knowing that’s exactly his problem) tells him

which is probably the worst he could say.

THAT’S what got Reki mad, not really Reki being insecure though that’s part of it, that’s what they’re fighting about, Reki is angry he’s breaking his promise. He thinks Langa doesn’t care about Reki, that he’ll easily break a promise between them that Reki obviously cares about just so he can go skate with Adam who is way better than him. It blows to the self esteem. Reki probably also think that if only he was better, langa wouldn’t bother skating with someone that dangerous. it doesn’t help at all.

but langa doesn’t know this. he doesn’t see all this. Langa might have been too up the high of skating like in ep 6, he sorta left Reki behind again.

it kinda makes Langa’s mom’s words hit harder though

and he did just that. he got too engrossed.

It parallels adam, cherry and joe’s friendship then probably tadahsi’s too but who knows? reki and langa, and tadashi and adam might parallel too, the master and the student thingy Adam might have gotten too obsessed. So Joe trying his best to make sure Reki and Langa won’t end up like them hits a little harder in my chest ;’)

but Langa won’t be to engrossed i think

because unlike Adam who’s aggressively looking for his ‘equal’, Langa is just looking for someone who makes his heart beat, to make him feel like he’s skating with his dad again, someone he loves dearly. (there’s a parallel about loves here too between Adam’s and Langa’s. but I can’t write it now) and he probably already thinks Reki is his equal anyway. He just wants to have fun. he doesn’t think much about the skills.

maybe at first he does. that’s why he’s drawn to Adam but from ep 9, it was pretty much shown that skills really doesn’t matter from when he skated against Joe

if Adam easily discarded his friends because he think they’re boring (which was why the whole skateboard to the face thing with Cherry), langa doesn’t think like that

if anything Reki is important to Langa because he only has fun skating with Reki, who taught him how to skate and made his board. (his board that was customized to fit his style btw, and arguably the only reason he could skate that well. without it, he might as well be a beginner once again.) so without reki, langa is left with nothing. especially with his broken board

no fun in skating, no way of skating. He’s only manage to get this far because of Reki and he knows that now. All of it would be pointless if he doesn’t have Reki (and either he gets so obsessed in chasing that feeling again, or he stops completely) but in case you haven’t noticed it, Langa’s motivation revolves around having fun with skating no matter the skill or place. And he’s having most fun with Reki.

But Reki obviously doesn't know Langa’s feelings. He thinks Langa was forever looking for someone better. So he’s still caught up in the idea that Langa won’t want to skate with him (even though Langa has never shown this) and he left S entirely, thinking what he wants is impossible. fucking just talk you two motherfucker

(I also wanna point out that Reki has always been shown from episode one to be good at making boards. And that’s amazing? We need some support recognition and appreciation, seriously) I think maybe most who find problem with Reki not winning beefs like the usual shounen protags aren’t used to the nuance and perspective of being someone ‘ordinary’. Reki’s character is relatable because most of us feel ordinary, never enough, surrounded by geniuses, ‘inferior’. And if we’re being realistic since a lot are saying joe should have won because langa winning is unrealistic and you want realism so bad no I’m not salty at all there will always be someone better than you. ALWAYS. but what’s important is for you to have fun in what you love! in what makes you happy! AND even if you’re not good at one thing (in Reki’s part, skating) he’s also good at other things (making boards) so does he need to stop one for the other? no. He’s shown to enjoy skating with Langa, he doesn’t wanna stop it hurts him so much he quit. But he can also hone his skills in making boards as well as skate. He’s equal with Langa in a way he doesn’t even notice when he made that board for Langa, but even Reki’s presence alone makes Langa enjoy skating the way Reki also wants Langa by his side.

So I think the next ep is the best time to confront all these feelings. And how it happens might be what’s tricky. Like romantic or not, i personally can read it both ways though i prefer if they do become canon. (idk if it’s queerbaiting. i guess friends can care as deeply as that but ngl, these shounen bestfriends having deep connections that are written off as friends while also giving us bland af hetero love interests who did nothing but exist and be straight really is messing with my perception of romantic and platonic love irl) anyway their talk better be done really well, or else all those episodes of tension would be for nothing

It’s a nice perspective to give a shounen protagonist this time. It’s new, it’s fresh. How many incarnations of underdog turned the best at their craft can you take? variety is nice! and if you don’t like it, there are always a dozen other animes like that for you to turn to. to conclude, IT ALL GOES BACK TO THE START: WHAT IS YOUR HAPPINESS???! AND FOR THEM IT’S THE POWER OF FRIENDSHIP BUT IN A VERY DIFFERENT PERSPECTIVE. FRIENDSHIP DOESN’T SUDDENLY GET YOU TO LEVEL 100000000000 TO DEFEAT THE FINAL BOSS. FRIENDSHIP IS WHAT MAKES DEFEATING THE FINAL BOSS WORTHWHILE

Anyway tldr; maybe the real Eve is the friends we made along the way :D and idk if I’m making sense but obviously I’m head empty only sk8. Renga needs to talk, i can’t believe they have the audacity to make a recap episode as if i wasn’t head empty only sk8 since february, and if there’s more emotional edging to come, i will burn some of the palm trees outside my house

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thanksjro · 4 years

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“Bullets”, a Last Stand of the Wreckers prose story- Ironfist Solves a Murder Mystery

Now that Overlord and Rewind have been exploded horribly in the vacuum of space, multiple people have died, and Chromedome’s horrifically single, let’s take a look at all those Last Stand of the Wreckers extras, yeah?

We more or less start with a Furmanism, as is tradition.

One day Furmanisms won’t be nearly as prevalent within the comic publications, and that is a day that I cannot wait to see. Forget politics, forget misogyny, forget basically NEEDING Death of the Author in effect to enjoy anything the man’s done- Furmanisms are a crutch that everybody in this franchise uses, but nobody needs. They never feel natural, in my opinion. It’s like a literary obligation at this point, and you can tell, because it never quite meshes with any writer’s style.

Anyway, this is the setup for what would happen on Pova- the Wreckers have been watching Squadron X fix up their ship, and now that the thing’s airborne again they’ve gotten itchy trigger fingers. Well, some of them, anyway. Rack n Ruin aren’t so sure about this whole thing, seeing as there are eight of them and an entire battalion up there. Impactor’s working the crowd though, as a leader of such a high turnover rate group is required to do, and that’s the point where First Aid stops reading.

Yep, this is one of Fisitron’s datalog entries, of which First Aid is a fan.

This isn’t First Aid’s first appearance within the IDW continuity- he played a role in Spotlight: Jazz, where he lived up to his name, and in Transformers: Ironhide #1, where he was in the background. This IS his premiere as a major player in a story, however, and it’s here that he’s revealed to be a bit of a slacker- he should be making the rounds at Delphi right now, but instead he’s reading entry logs about the wartime equivalent of a boyband.

He hits a key to quicktab to something at least somewhat medically-related as he feels someone approaching from behind. It’s the CMO, and he is in no way fooled by First Aid’s attempt to hide his shame. He gets back to work, but that particular entry- 113, because of course it is- is still on his mind. Hope he never finds out it’s a load of bunk.

I REALLY hope he never finds out this is all bunk. We all need something, you know?

Of course, First Aid- y’know, not to brag or anything- personally met one of the Wreckers. Roughly five years ago, Springer had approached him at a medical conference on Kimia. Why a medical conference was being held on Kimia of all places isn’t addressed, but it was probably because half the folks stationed there are doctors. First Aid, being a classy guy, fucking ogles Springer the entire time they’re talking.

You’ve heard of “Men Writing Women”, now it’s time for “Roberts Writing Robots”. Yes, this is THAT scene, and it’s on the first goddamn page.

First Aid, wanting to be of use to his idol, offers his medical expertise, completely willing to fix Springer’s nose, give him a breast reduction, and even update the circuit dampeners he doesn’t have. Springer, while flattered, isn’t looking for that sort of help. He’s looking for folks who have a lot to give.

The phrasing he uses makes First Aid think that he’s about to be recruited to the Wreckers- in other words, about to be put in line for a slow and awful death- but Springer clarifies that he’s looking more for eyes and ears to help him, not so much bodies. He hands First Aid a card with his number, and says to give him a call sometime.

Cutting back to the present, First Aid is walking through the rows of patient slabs, where we see an honestly horrifying practice in play- every patient in Delphi has their non-essential functions turned off to conserve power. This includes things like the ability to move, and speak.

Because that couldn’t possibly have any negative repercussions.

He checks in on the Fader he’s been assigned, confirms that, yes, his head IS still missing from his neck, then makes to walk out of the room, only to be startled by the sudden entry of a stretcher and Ambulon. Here, Ambulon is identified as a chief paramedic, as opposed to being a ward manager. Whether this is early installment weirdness or a simple mistake isn’t clear.

Ambulon is quickly followed by Dogfight, Dodger, and Backstreet(’s back, alright!) First Aid gets to work, by checking the three of them for injuries, paying special attention to their Autobot badges.

This is the reason Rung had to call in at the beginning of MTMTE #4, though it might be more because First Aid can’t act like a professional of five friggin’ minutes.

Oh, Delphi’s HR department is getting a call for sure.

First Aid, while a known fondler of badges, has never had this exact reaction. He runs off to make a phone call, leaving the injured Dodger to wait for the surgery he’s going to undergo the moment First Aid gets back.

Meanwhile, somewhere else- I’m guessing Kimia- Rung has an appointment underway with a dude named Flattop.

Flattop’s TFWiki article is one of the most depressing on the entire site, and it’s completely “Bullets”’s fault.

You see, Flattop’s attempting to talk through his trauma, but it’s difficult.

This level of insight is why they pay Rung the big bucks.

The war, while terrible for everyone’s mental health, has given Rung a slew of patients to handle.

Gee, wonder who that medic was.

Anyway, so Flattop’s deal- he was at Babu Yar, which was an event that was apparently so terrible, everyone involved was offered brand new bodies as compensation. He’s currently hiding underneath a table, which Rung identifies as “playing to type”. Flattop isn’t even here to talk about Babu Yar, but it’s good to know that war is still hell.

The reason Flattop’s actually here is this: he was serving under Silverstreak- another one of Rung’s patients, and someone who I’m convinced might actually be a Warrior cat given the name- and was going to check something out when he saw something utterly terrifying.

Rung gets Flattop out from under the table, and they talk about what the Shimmer means. Flattop is convinced that since he’s seen the thing, he’s going to die. You see, folklore in space is very similar to its counterpart on Earth, in that it’s a warning swathed in story to make it easily digestible.

Rung, who tries to keep things rational, offers to give Flattop a few possible explanations for what he saw. Because Flattop had only recently gotten his hot new bod a short while before he saw the Shimmer, it’s completely possible he had had a hallucination due to the adjustment period. Another theory is that Flattop has PTSD. Which, I mean, yeah.

While Rung was busy trying to explain what had happened, Flattop friggin’ died.

Awkward.

Over with Ironfist- because “Bullets” is a prequel- we’re in the middle of a meeting with the Ethics Committee. Xaaron, Animus, and Trailbreaker of all people, have come together to pass judgement on Ironfist’s cerebro-sensitive bullets. There’s a lot of hemming and hawing, and Ironfist reflects on how they got to this moment, while fiddling with a data slug to burn off the nerves.

This is just after the Surge happened, an event kicked off by the betrayal of the Autobot cause allowed Megatron to seize a majority of the Autobot outposts. It was a huge deal, a lot of shit was stolen, including the Weak Anthropic Principle, and it left everyone a little twitchy towards one another. Trust is not in vogue at present.

Kimia’s in a mess of trouble anyway, however, due to the events of Babu Yar, where Gideon’s Glue had rained down on the Autobot troops under Flame’s command, eaten to Swiss cheese by something eerily similar to something being developed on the station.

So an investigation was established. Brainstorm, who’s apparently big man on campus here at Kimia, is questioned, as is everyone else. Of course, no one cops to having invented Gideon’s Glue, because that’s a big ol’ war crime, so the questioning goes nowhere, but now there’s a precedent for mistrust on this science station.

Anyway, back to the bullet thing.

Ironfist’s cerebro-sensitive bullets are designed to hit the head, every single time, ignoring trajectory, ballistic physics, what you think is possible, and the Geneva Convention. It’s fired, it hits the first brain it identifies. Brutal stuff. Effective, but brutal.

Trailbreaker’s not a fan.

I mean, maybe? I guess it depends how gray your morality is. I bet Prowl would like them.

After telling Trailbreaker to keep it professional, Xaaron tells Ironfist that using these bullets would be a literal war crime, and he’s got a little over a day to hand them over to the Committee for destruction. Meeting adjourned!

Ironfist is left standing there until his good buddy Skyfall checks in on him. Ironfist is kind of bummed out, but Skyfall knows how to cheer him up- by comparing him to Impactor, former leader of the Wreckers, and one of Ironfist’s fan-crushes.

Man, this makes the Pova reveal a little harsher in hindsight, huh?

Skyfall invites Ironfist to the Exit Rooms, a place where the Kimia employees can drink and no one will give a shit, and as they make their way over they run into Brainstorm.

Brainstorm gets some interesting development in this story.

That’s right, not only are his weapons completely insane, and in some cases literally abstract, they’re apparently often so incredibly dangerous that the Ethics Committee loses sleep over the fact that they exist.

And Brainstorm loves it.

No wonder Trailbreaker was so annoyed in his Spotlight.

Skyfall asks about what’s in Brainstorm’s briefcase, gets an answer that’s likely a lie, then the boys head over to the Exit Rooms.

Over on Hydrus 5, it’s raining cats and dogs, and this is somehow the Transformers fault. I guess the universe bends to the will of what would be the most dramatic, as everyone takes a break from warmongering to soul-search.

Or ego-stroking. That works too.

Here is our dear Pyro, reveling in the aftermath of a battle that destroyed the natural ecosystem of the land, but at least they kicked those ‘Cons’ asses!

Pyro, who’s revealed to be maybe perhaps not the best at coming up with one-liners, is left alone for a bit as Afterburner goes to check on the rest of their men. As he tries to piece together a speech to deliver, he sees a green something- they’re always green, aren’t they?- and that something is the Shimmer.

Well, heck.

Over on the dilapidated space station of Debris (wow, that’s even less subtle than usual for this franchise) Springer’s holding a bullet. I mean, it’s not really a bullet, and the Decepticon who fired it wasn’t really a Decepticon.

I want you to know that I keep track of how many times 113 comes up in these stories, and for “Bullets" it’s a LOT.

Today’s letter from Agent 113 foreshadows/hindshadows the events of Last Stand, claiming that the DJD hasn’t heard anything from Garrus-9 since the Surge happened. Prowl’s concerned that Fortress Maximus is still alive in there and fighting off the Decepticons while waiting for backup, so he recently called Springer and invited the Wreckers on a mission.

All Springer has to do is pick some sorry sons of guns to die.

Over with Guzzle, who is romanticizing a weapon, comparing his gun to a religious artifact, our dear little bastard man has realized that he does, in fact, have emotions, and is in mourning over his lost comrades, who died rescuing Kup from Tsiehshi. Guzzle doesn’t much appreciate this whole “feeling” thing, and would rather it didn’t get in the way of him shooting statues for no other reason than him wanting to. Then he sees the Shimmer, and feels fear. He doesn’t much care for that, either.

Even Nick Roche is powerless to stop this madness.

We reconfirm the fact that Ironfist is a massive nerd, then are shown that the bullet accident that will have killed him by the end of Last Stand #5 has already happened. Ever so slowly, the bullet is heading for Ironfist’s brain. Every time it hits a new layer of his noggin, he blacks out.

Ironfist is going to leave on his super-fun, not-at-all-traumatizing Wrecker adventure soon, and he’s promised Skyfall his workshop. Skyfall was at Grindcore for a while, and that kind of gave him PTSD, so when Ironfist had gotten accepted to Kimia, he’d brought him along for the ride.

I like to call Grindcore Eugenesis-lite.

Because Skyfall is a reckless son of a gun with access to Ironfist’s workshop, he inadvertently caused a major incident with something called Black Phosphex, which resulted in the deaths of several Autobots because it wasn’t properly tested. This landed him in Garrus-9 for a bit, in a temporary career-path deviation, until it was time to come home to Kimia, just in time for the Inquiry.

Are stans always this intense? Because good lord, Ironfist.

Over at Karashi Delta, in the aftermath of a fierce battle, Rotorstorm is hyping himself the fuck up.

But does he buy it himself?

Hmm, survey says no.

Of course, verbal abuse isn’t the only thing we’ll be getting here. No, things begin to escalate pretty rapidly with Jetstream, who moves from shoving to almost beating Rotorstorm to death in a matter of months, before disappearing from the station forever.

Dang, this Jetstream fella kinda sucks. What’s his friggin’ problem?

Ah.

Again, I can’t stress this enough, Whirl’s awful flipper claws from back during his time as a cop do not make a nice fist. He was basically stabbing Rotorstorm. Who let this man be a teacher?

Rotorstorm is snapped out of his self-deprecating flashbacks by the sight of something on the canyon lip up ahead. It’s the gotdang Shimmer. Rotorstorm books it, not wanting to be caught by a harbinger of death. It doesn’t work, but points for trying.

Back on Debris, Springer’s picked his new recruits. Now all he has to do is call them up. Hey, isn’t Springer green? Green like the Shimmer? How about that.

Back on Kimia, Skyfall’s wandered into Ironfist’s workshop to share the gossip on Fisitron’s latest Wreckers: Declassified. Folks are a bit critical of his writing style, it would seem.

Of course Swerve knows what fan-fiction is. He seems like exactly the type to make fun of it, then read a 43,000 word fic in a single sitting, under cover of darkness, burning with shame all the while.

After making a note on his current Wreckers: Declassified document to ease up on the adverbs, Ironfist switches gears and gets busy on his other project: an Unofficial Wreckers’ Training Guide. I wonder when the switch from Primal Vanguard to Wreckers as a hyperfixation happened for him.

Ironfist asks Skyfall what entry he’s currently on, and the answer is a ways away from the latest one. Skyfall’s a slow reader, but he doesn’t want to just beam it all into his brain because it feels like cheating. He asks Ironfist when he’s going to cover the Wreckers’ mission to Garrus-9, the one that happened while he was there being not-imprisoned. Ironfist gives a non-answer, then asks if Skyfall wants to help with packing up the war-crime guns. Skyfall most certainly does not.

Ironfist starts breaking everything down when he gets a call from Prowl, as happened in Last Stand #4.

Back with Springer, we’re giving our dad a hug, as he greets Kup. It’s here we find out who Ironfist replaced on the Wrecker team for Operation: Retrieval- it was Skyfall. Skyfall had impressed Springer during their last Garrus-9 excursion, and thought that he’d be a good fit for the team, despite the Black Phosphex incident.

Kup goes full old man story time mode about how insanely boring Prowl is, while Springer gets the door. On the other side is Twin Twist, Top Spin, and Perceptor. They hold the vote, Ironfist given immunity due to unmentioned Prowl reasons, and Springer gets ready to call all their new pals.

Back at Ironfist’s workshop, Ironfist reflects on just how his life got to this point. He’s going to join the Wreckers! Never mind the fact that he’ll be going to die, and that’s if the bullet crawling around in his skull doesn’t get him first. Never mind the very likely possibility that he’s being exploited by Prowl. Nah, he’s gonna go on an adventure! It’s gonna be awesome! Yaaaaay!

It doesn’t pay to be blue and naive when Roberts is handling the story. Just ask Pipes.

Or don’t. You won’t get an answer.

Called it.

Ironfist, starstruck, bumbles his way through the conversation we saw in the Mosaic, and so it was that he became a Wrecker. All he has to do is pop on over to Rung’s office, get his head examined, then get his butt on over to Babu Yar.

Telecon work completed, Springer reflects on the fact that Guzzle turned him down. It’s not often someone turns down the chance to be a Wrecker.

Oh, well, never mind then.

Ironfist immediately tells Skyfall about what’s happened, because he’s just so jazzed to be a Wrecker. Skyfall isn’t quite as thrilled, but does his best to be supportive.

And by that I mean he’s not listening in the slightest as he’s already planning out the interior design for the workshop once Ironfist is gone. I bet he’ll get Atomizer to help him, the tacky bastard.

Skyfall runs off to go look at paint swatches or whatever, and Ironfist finalizes the stuff for the Ethics Committee pickup.

Oh, so that appointment wasn’t on Kimia after all. Can we please get some sort of fast-track program for the mental health specific degrees? We can’t keep using Rung for everybody, he’s only one person.

Oh heavens, Ironfist, be careful.

Ironfist gets another call, and we jump scenes before we can figure out just who rang or why.

Brief timeskip, and we find ourselves at Babu Yar, as Ironfist introduces himself to Guzzle and his gun.

Ironfist is about as smooth as coarse-grit sandpaper.

While Ironfist is busy revealing his nerd shame to Guzzle, someone’s decided to be a cocky little asshole.

Oh, dramatic irony. Always a delightful sort of pain.

Rotorstorm cranks up the “I’m hot shit” act to 11.5, doing completely unnecessary flips and talking himself up like he will literally die if he doesn’t.

Off in the distance, something disingenuously impressive comes up over the hill.

Of course, it’s not Optimus Prime, but it is someone who would very much like to be him. Such is the nature of primus apotheosis. Gang’s all here!

This is going to turn out fan-fucking-tastic.

Rotorstorm and Guzzle want to play with the big gun Ironfist brought along, and since Ironfist is going to die anyway, he lets them go for it. This would be why everything was on fire at the start of the miniseries.

Yep. Just gotta make it hurt just a little more, doncha Roberts? Just gotta twist the knife.

Nine months after the events of the Garrus-9 mission, Skyfall is upset. He’s gone and played himself by not attending the Ethics Committee hearings, and they’ve taken all his toys away as a result. He tries to mask his lack of concern for safety precautions behind a facade of missing Ironfist, but it doesn’t get him the weapons back.

Feeling cross, he decides it’s about time he made a visit to the Exit Rooms to blow off a little steam.

Later, he gets a call. Worried that his lack of ethics and/or his drunken squabbling has gotten him in trouble yet again, he’s loathe to answer, but does anyway.

Ghost call!

No, it’s actually a prerecorded message, one that claims that Skyfall killed Ironfist. Ironfist had asked Brainstorm to take a gander at the gun after he got shot, and found that it had been tampered with, set to go off on its own when held a certain way. That’s who was calling before he left for his Wrecker mission.

Skyfall starts to panic, expecting the security detail for Kimia to bust into the workshop at any second.

Ironfist knows that only Skyfall could have done this to him, but he doesn’t know the exact motive. Was it because he was jealous of how good a weapons expert he was? A chip on his shoulder about Grindcore? Whatever the reason, Ironfist isn’t terribly concerned at the time of the recording. What he is concerned about is Gideon’s Glue.

Ironfist had, in fact, invented Gideon’s Glue, but he’d been so horrified by what the shit actually did, he flushed it into space and destroyed all research before the Ethics Committee even knew about it. It still got to the Decepticons, though, didn’t it? How could such a thing happen?

Probably not, considering what happens next.

Ironfist is a smart guy, but more importantly, he knows how to reach his audience. Literally, in this case, as Skyfall finds out, when the Enforcement Squad starts trying to break down the door. Ironfist had the message that Skyfall is currently listening to primed for beaming into all of Fisitron’s reader’s brains. Everyone knows what happened. Swerve. Atomizer. Ratchet, who’s over on Earth right now. First Aid, who has enough bullshit to worry about on Delphi without this nonsense. You. Me. Everyone.

Skyfall, in a mad attempt to save himself, throws some of Ironfist’s Wrecker memorabilia at the door, and out pops that last tube of Gideon’s Glue.

There’s only one way out of this one.

This got really intense at the end, didn’t it?

#transformers #jro #jro punches me in the face #last stand of the wreckers #bullets #maccadam #Hannzreads #text post #long post #prose writing #wreckers trilogy

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teatimewithhogs · 4 years

Conversation

If the Cheydinhal Sanctuary had chatrooms. Chapter 1

Private message between and

Questing4life: @Ghostofachance, the door wont open.

Ghostofachance: did you forget the password?

Questing4life: no I remember, it’s “Sanguine my Brother” right?

Questing4life: I said it a couple of times but the door won’t open.

Ghostofachance: did you only say it after it addressed you?

Questing4life: after the spooky voice? Yeah.

Ghostofachance: How did you say it? Send a voice note.

Questing4life: password.wav

Ghostofachance: That is not how you say Sanguine.

Ghostofachance: it’s pronounced San-”Gwen” not San-”Goon”

Questing4life: wait really?

Questing4life: this would explain why those Sanguine worshipers ran me off the other day.

Ghostofachance: just get inside and see Ocheeva.

Cheydinhal Dark Brotherhood Chat

EatPrayKill: @all. Please give our newest family member a warm dark brotherhood welcome.

EatPrayKill: @Questing4life.

Fangsinthedark: Greetings new family member.

Arrowtotheface: Hello and welcome to the family.

Nooneexpectsthecook: HIIIIII

Publicmurderer#1: welcome to the brotherhood

Shadowscalesrulez: Hello new brother.

Grumpycat: hi

Questing4life: Thanks

Questing4life: To be honest, this wasn’t the sort of energy I was expecting when Vicenti recruited me to his murder cult.

EatPrayKill: we prefer the term “murder organization”

Questing4life: Oh, sorry. No Offense intended.

EatPrayKill: None take. It is mostly to distinguish ourselves from the other murder happy groups in Tamriel.

Fangsinthedark: and the Daedric Cults

Fangsinthedark: @Questing4life, tell us about yourself.

Questing4life: well I’m 25 years old , I’m from Bravil and I like doing stuff for people for the experience and loot.

Questing4life: stuff which now includes murdering people I guess.

Arrowtotheface: It seems our new brother is quite the profit seeker.

Arrowtotheface: Do you not take pleasure in the art of killing?

Questing4life: Sometimes? It kind of gets monotonousness for a while.

Shadowscalesrulez: Monotonousness? That sounds terrible.

Shadowscalesrulez: worry not dear brother, i’m sure all of us here can show you new ways to extinguish life.

Questing4life: Sweet

Questing4life: I think.

Shadowscalesrulez: You are most welcome brother.

EatPrayKill: Before you’re murder horizons can be expanded, there are a few things I must inform you about @Questing4life.

EatPrayKill: Lucien has told you the five tenets of the brotherhood correct?

Questing4life: he did, it was: don’t do night mom dirty, don’t snitch on the brotherhood, listen to big brother/sister, and don’t steal from or kill your other family members.

EatPrayKill: it is a fine summary but you WILL give our dark mother the reverence she deserves.

Questing4life: ah sorry. Night Mother.

Night_Mother: it’s fine.

EatPrayKill: Good, now as acting leader of this sanctuary, I have also created by own set of tenets for those here.

EatPrayKill: No.1 do not attempt to kill Schemer or Bob.

Questing4life: Who?

Nooneexpectsthecook: my pet rat and the sanctuary’s resident dark guardian.

EatPrayKill: yes, both of them are valuable family members and feel nice to pet.

Questing4life: does she mean…?

Fangsinthedark: Yes.

EatPrayKill: No.2 when using the training room, if the training target or dummy is broken while you were using it. Remember to replace it with a new one.

Fangsinthedark: Note that using a corpse as a replacement is not acceptable.

Questing4life: Cause it’ll stink?

EatPrayKill: It is not just that, Bob is highly territorial and does not tolerate another corpse in the sanctuary.

Fangsinthedark: “does not tolerate” translates to “will rip into messy shreds”

Questing4life: I’ll avoid conjuration spells in the sanctuary.

Fangsinthedark: a wise decision.

EatPrayKill: No.3 Re-frame from using the abandoned house above us for anything other than entry.

EatPrayKill: to maintain the illusion that there is nothing here worth looking into.

EatPrayKill: @Nooneexpectsthecook

Nooneexpectsthecook: I was young Ocheeva, and it was just 1 party with the thorn kids.

EatPrayKill: One of whom managed to sneak inside the basement for a doobie.

Fangsinthedark: and thank goodness he was, or else someone would have actually believed him when he said that a door spoke to him.

EatPrayKill: No.4 Don’t bring garlic into the Sanctuary let alone the pantry, Vicenti is deadly allergic to it.

Questing4life: Cause he’s a vampire?

Fangsinthedark: well there goes my surprise.

EatPrayKill: Yes, but that’s not the reason he’s allergic to it.

Questing4life: Are you sure? Cause I’ve killed a vampire with garlic oil before.

Fangsinthedark: did you coat it on a weapon?

Questing4life: yeah, my sword. How’d you know?

Fangsinthedark: then it was the sword.

Questing4life: Vampires are allergic to swords?

Fangsinthedark: Everyone is allergic to swords.

EatPrayKill: No.5 The well ladder is for senior members and emergency exit purposes only.

EatPrayKill: Do not get silly ideas like spreading rumors around town that it is a wishing well. It jeopardizes our secrecy.

Questing4life: this last one is oddly specific.

Nooneexpectsthecook: It was fun for a while, we got to listen to the townsfolk’s woes and they threw down free money.

Nooneexpectsthecook: but then some petty thief got it in their heads that it might be an easy score to steal the coins at the bottom of the well.

EatPrayKill: which is how we get Bob.

Questing4life: Alright noted,

Questing4life: So what happens if I violate any of these?

EatPrayKill: Then I will use my authority as sanctuary leader.

EatPrayKill: to saddle you with chore duty for a month.

Questing4life: That doesn’t sound so bad.

Fangsinthedark: Chore duty also includes cleaning out M’raaj-Dar’s litter box

Publicmurderer#1: LMAO

Nooneexpectsthecook: Hah @Fangsinthedark *Hi-5*

Fangsinthedark: *Hi-5*

Shadowscalesrulez: @Grumpycat you’ve been burned.

Questing4life: wait, really?

Grumpycat: LIES

Grumpycat: VICENTE

Questing4life: ah, that clears it up then.

Noneexpectsthecook: Unlike M’raaj-Dar’s litter box

Fangsinthedark: *applauding clap*

Grumpycat: I DO NOT SHIT IN A BOX.

Fangsinthedark: why dear M’raaj-Dar we didn’t mean anything about excrement.

Nononexpectesthecook: we were just taking about simple trash and such.

Fangsinthedark: I do hope you’ll forgive us for the misunderstanding.

Grumpycat: YOUUUUUUUUU

has logged out.

Shadowscalesrulez: heh, he’s taking out his frustrations on the target dummy.

Questing4life: You guys are fun bunch.

Fangsinthedark: That we are.

EatPrayKill: I feel that this should conclude the group welcoming.

EatPrayKill: @Questing4life, go see Vicenti downstairs for your first contract.

Questing4life: Alright, it was nice meeting with everyone.

Questing4life: See ya later.

#oblivion #the elder scrolls #dark brotherhood #lucien lachance #hero of kvatch #crack fic #cheydinhal dark brotherhood

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jaspitch · 4 years

Text

Five Nightguards At Freddys

Night 1- Storm's Archives

Somehow she knew she had to do it. Make it through the night running around the pizzeria, nobody with her, without any power, or a damn flashlight. Storm had never wanted to work at this shitty pizzeria. But oh no, "We gotta stay to keep Michael safe!" Since when had September ever actually cared about Mike anyways?!

So after surviving only three and a half hours on limited power because the generator wasn't worth crap, Storm found herself in complete darkness. When Freddy had started thumping his way towards the office, Storm knew she couldn't just die like this. So, what's the next best thing? Yep, running into party room four and hiding under a table. It was easy, especially considering she was a short stack, 5'4 to be exact.

However, her special uniform seemed to illuminate her. The jacket, which was oversized and a dark blue due to her ranked status by Henry (Executive manager's first aid), had kept her warm, sure. However, because of her small frame, it would hang right before her knees. Which not only meant it caught on things when she moved, but tripped her up, and the blue was somehow seeable in the pitch dark.

Longing for the original, but less warm, baby blue and gray uniform, seemed stupid. And it would be, if Freddy wasn't currently staring at her, his hand having moved the tablecloth up, and Storm trying her best to untangle the end of her jacket from some ribbons that had been swept under the table. As the brown bear reached over, Storm finally untangled the damn sweater and bolted from underneath the table, running for the entrance to the party room.

Man, weren’t Wednesdays just the best? She kept running down the hallway, hearing the metal of most likely Freddy follow her at a decently slow pace. She turned down another hallway, just to be met with a dead end: the janitor’s closet. Now sweating buckets, Storm started to frantically look around. Something caught her eye in the corner. Looking to it with her dark blue eyes, a small ray of hope blossomed in her chest. It was, by far, the most beautiful thing to be stowed upon her. A vent. A vent that could hold someone at least 6′6 with a weight of 350 lbs. Thank the Lord.

When her hand touched the metal, she drew it back. It was fucking burning hot! The heater was supposed to be off after hours! Her only guess was that Fritz left it on again. Regardless, Storm sucked in a deep breath, and then pulled on the metal, which surprisingly gave in and came off. Dropping the damned hatch, Storm jumped a bit and climbed into the large vent. At first, she felt as if she were burning alive, but that almost went away within ten seconds. Almsot as if on que, Freddy passed by, his eyes glowing a light white. They were pupil sized and had black floating around them. Since when had his eyes not been blue? That just fueled the thought of the pizzeria being haunted.

Eventually the mascot walked away, creaking and groaning as he did so. Sighing, she squinted at her black watch, which lit up with a green light when she tapped it twice. The bright light dialated her pupils and aggrivated her eyes, but she got over it. The time was 4:38. Great, it’s only been what, an hour or so? Staying in the vent wasn’t possible, along with her body heat and extra warm uniform, the heater was starting to overheat the nineteen year old. After checking to make sure the coast was clear, Storm jumped out and placed the vent hatch back on. That, of course, took a good ten minutes because the thing kept turning sideways and not sitting straight.

Finally free from her heated domain, Storm went flying towards the office to try and find the flashlight she had dropped when Freddy had entered the room. After searching for a few minutes, she found the flashlight, noticing the glass had a small crack in it. Whatever, Henry could fix that after he found her dismembered body inside one of the mascot suits. It wouldn’t be a surprise if she didn’t see sunlight. Deciding that staying in the room would be smart, Storm sat under the table, dusting a few cobwebs from her jacket as she glanced from under her hiding spot. This place was the abolute worst, especilly in the dark. Fuck, forget the creepy atmosphere when the lights were on.

With plenty of time to think, Storm started to think of the people in her life. Tall, slender, September Charles. He was the best friend a person could ask for. Despite being self-centered and a total introvert, he did anything Storm asked him to do. Play video games all day despite both of them having work? Sure. Going to a party with only druggies, alchoholics, and underage kids? Yep, perfect. Aside from that, he was especially handsome. That thought made a light blush dust Storm’s cheeks. September had somewhat messy, yet silky, shoulder length ginger-brown hair and stunning bright orangish-brownish eyes. He had thin-framed green glasses that sat beautifully on his lightly tanned face. Everything about him was amazing.

Who else was there to think about? Mike, alright, her mind flew to Mike. He was her other best friend, who by the way, was in some sort of rivalry with September. Beautiful black hair that was shoulder length, matching his bright blue eyes. He was more of an outrovert, but still kept to himself because of how judgemental people were. Storm remembered the first time she saw him at college- struggling with a math course in the multipurpose room. She had been reading a baking guide for lullaberry pie when she had noticed the taller male run a hand through his silky black hair in frustration. Scooting closer, she noted the advanced algebra course he was taking. Which happened to be the same one she had taken last year. “Hey, need some help?” Storm finally asked, making the blue-eyed male look up. “What?”

“Do you need some help? I’d be happy to, that math course is a bit difficult, huh?” Although Mike had been hesitant at first, he eventually got used to her helping him every Monday and Friday. So when she had graduated after taking a one year Doctorate course, Mike had been left alone. That is, until he got her number and address and started doing zoom calls. Of course they sometimes showed up at each others places. Storm had been laughing her ass off when Mike stepped into her large house, his eyes had widened and jaw dropped. Due to her mother being insanely wealthy (and also gone all the time after divorcing Storm’s dad), she had left all of her assets to her after dying.

It was almost as funny when September and Mike had met. While chilling at a caffe, Mike walked in, catching the eyes of Storm. September noticed this and raised an eyebrow, asking in his deep, monotone voice, “You know this guy?” She nodded and got up, skipping over to him. After inviting him to her table and paying for his carmel macchiato (He complained about her paying but she didn’t care), they both sat down. A flash of recognition crossed both men’s faces before they both gave eachother a glare. She found out that day that September had been one of the people who had completely ignored Mike all while making him look bad. They had both been in the library when they met, standing in line to check out science books. When somebody who had been goofing around behind Mike pushed him, he knocked into the brunette (who was part of the ‘popular clique’) and pushed the books out of his hands.

Turning around with a fierce glare, September recognised Mike from his science and law classes, then picked up his books, looked back to the black haired male and said, “Why don’t you watch where you’re going, Retard? I don’t want to contract your disease. “ After that, whenever Mike tried to say anything, even ‘sorry’, September would only say one word. “Disease.” That eventually went away when they were forced to get along. Didn’t mean when she wasn’t around that they wouldn’t be at eachothers’ throats.

A creak forced Storm from her thoughts, making her look up. Two orange three-toed feet were walking past, the weird ‘ahHaRgHhA’ sound coming from withing the chiken’s beak. She no doubtly had her head to the side, twitching and spazzing out. Just as she thought her luck could get no worse, the bell rang and the lights flickered on. Storm, now sick and tired of this shit, scrambled from her hiding place, flipped off Chica, and ran towards the doors. William with his beautiful red bow that held his equally gorgeous purple hair was just unlcking the door as Storm rushed by. “Fucking fix this,” is all she said before handing the flashlight over.

After a one hour drive to her property in a brand new red comaro (Yeah, she’s rich and is only working for fun, duh. Jk, she’s just working there until Mike quits, which means she and September can quit, and then move onto software design.), the small female ran into her house, changed into some comfy sweats and a t-shirt, then fell into her silky soft bedsheets. As soon as her head hit the pillows, she fell asleep, snuggly and warm.

Storm’s Archive ends here.

#FNAF Archives1

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nightmare-circus · 4 years

Text

238,900 miles | Chapter 4 | Crescent | Body Reaction

[ "I can tell you your horoscope no problem. When were you born again? Ah shit -- should probably ask for your name first!" ]

That was one of the first things Crescent said, wasn't it?

"What's wrong with Space Man?! Your name just means moon, but not even the whole moon! Just a little bit of moon! I'll all of Space, you can't beat me!!"

[ "It's called a phase, Space Boy." He replies calmly, a smirk creeping up on his face. "Sounds like I easily beat you in space facts, though." ]

"Gh-- I knew that!! It's still a small phase!! Not even a big one!! Like a full moon or something!!"

He had never thought of addressing someone else as the Moon. No, not at all. Crescent was the Moon -- it was in his name. But a crescent moon. A phase -- a part -- a fraction -- of the astronomical body that hangs in the sky every single night.

[ "The moon is still the moon in all of its phases." ]

Crescent does not rise and fall, though. He cannot lift himself in the air, nor have his own gravitational pull. But Space Man Mikami Tatsuya could -- and it made so... so much sense. He was the Moon, not Crescent.

He was a Scorpio (Crescent wouldn't have guessed right away, but after a while it began to make sense). He was a rugby player. He was a college student. He was loud. He was a stubborn fighter. He was so... easy to fluster. Crescent found this endearing, cute even. Though as time passed, he failed to notice that he would continue to flirt with the Moon -- not just because he enjoyed the reactions, but because he enjoyed being the one to make the Moon blush. But Crescent, more than anything, enjoyed making the Moon smile. In due time, he would fall head over heels for him.

It was shortly after the first trial. When they were alone, by the caravans to be exact. When the Moon rose but could not seem to come down on his own.

[ "Think of something else for a sec. Like... I dunno, what's popping in your head right now as you're looking at me?" ]

"...That any minute I'm gonna do or say something to make you walk away from me and never look back. That I just did something back there that I never wanted to do.. the one thing I never wanted to have happen! That someone's dead and their families never gonna see them again! And that I--"

"...That's what's in my head..."

[ "... It's gonna take a lot more than some hot-air-balloon-shit or whatever to get me to stop bugging ya." ]

Crescent was never good at helping, whether it was advice or comfort. But by god was he going to help the Moon with all of his might.

[ "Think of something else, for real. Can you see my eyes from here? What color are they? Focus on the color for a sec while I -- okay I don't know what I'm gonna do but just work with me here!" ]

"Yellow and blue... I always notice them, they stands out so much..." ... "They're nice." He mutters quietly... and he very slowly begins to come within reach again.

[ "I used to get teased a lot for them, you know. But I got over it. Sometimes I'll say the stars and sky are in my eyes." ]

"People don't know a good thing when they see it. It's better than mine, look at 'em. No color at all..." ... "You do have stars in your eyes.. I might've been drunk off my ass... but at the party, when a song you liked came on, I thought could see them."

[ "Heheh... Really now?" ]

[ "But your eyes, though... They're gray, aren't they? Just like the moon. Shooting stars and space rocks are also gray, but having two moons for eyes... That's kinda beautiful." ]

It was while they were stargazing. Pointing out constellations both big and small, and wondering if the two of them were also in the stars.

[ "Mine should be real close to the moon -- or it should meet the moon as it rises. It'd only make sense!" ]

"S-so... does that make me the Moon?"

[ "Ah... I guess it does!" ]

"I dunno how you keep calling me cute, when you're the one saying stuff like that."

[ "Aw, what are you tryna say here?" ]

"Y-you know what I mean... You're cute."

That's when Crescent knew. Tatsuya was his Moon. How wonderful it was, to fall in love with someone who could gravitate his softer side out of the cold, hollow shell Crescent called his heart.

[ "I'm so sure about the planets aligning themselves to let us meet. Like it was fate... And even if we have to meet each other all over again I-I'll find you, okay?" ]

"Y-you.... God, you're cute...We better find each other. I wouldn't mind doing all this all over again."

The planets had truly aligned themselves for their paths to cross. Their meeting was written in the stars. It was destiny. A love story painted in outer space with brilliant blues and reds from a galaxy. All centered around the Moon and one lone star. Crescent had wondered: Does the moon really need the stars to shine the way that it does?

"You don't like stars for that though. You like them for their deeper meaning. Stars ain't just gas, you told me yourself. You use them to understand people, to see things nobody else does. ...That's amazing, you know? Besides... they ain't ugly up close either. Seeing them far away.. you don't ever get to see what's really happening. All that gas and shit is just... millions or billions of years of explosions and supernovas and energy. ...Stuff you never get to see. That shit's amazing, too."

And Tatsuya was just like the moon, so lonely, so full of imperfections. But just like the moon, he shined in times of darkness.

All of those sweet moments spent together, with only themselves and the night sky. Even the not so sweet moments -- the ones with shouting and tears -- were ones he could not forget, for they always ended with one comforting the other. Crescent, a self-proclaimed devotee to the big bright light in the inky black sky, was truly just that. Except instead of for a piece of outer space, it was for a young man. A young man who had a short temper, a booming voice, a self-sacrificing heart, a will to learn more about the Devil regardless of everything.

He had always loved how Tatsuya would be so enveloped in what he was saying, what he would create, what he would see in the stars. He loved his Moon so much. He didn't even know he was capable of being selfless for a soul who shared so many similarities. Tatsuya -- all of his spirit, his determination, his generosity. How many times did he cook for him? How many things did he give? How many sweet words of encouragement and comfort did he share? How could one ever deserve such a kind, strong but actually quite gentle man like Tatsuya?

"... Even your name's cute, this isn't fair..."

"How about a new promise. One you can't break. ...Lying to Space Man doesn't count this time, because he ain't me. ....But you have to promise me... You have to promise Mikami Tatsuya that you won't hurt people.. you won't cause problems on purpose, and you'll try to treat everyone fairly... even when I'm not there to see it. Never forget about me... I've had enough of being forgotten about."

The Star... loved his Moon so much, that when he was staring at the corpse in the crater he would stay at its side. Clutching the hand of a dead man. Attempting to process the loss of who was the most important part of his night sky. Falling in and out of reality while a swirling, spiraling train of inner thoughts hits him like a crashing comet. Begging the stars to stop this awful trick and bring him back his god damn Moon.

[ “Ah... Tatsuya, huh... It suits ya.” His smile grows. “Alright... I promise... I promise you, Tatsuya, that I won’t hurt people.. And I’ll be fair, and all of that... Geez, how could I forget about you?” ]

And though the Star would cry, no sound came out. He was sobbing, but there was only silence. Eerie, terrible silence.

Outer space is completely devoid of sound.

[ “I love you.” ]

"Yeah.. I love you, too... You pain in the ass."

And the Star was alone.

#ch4 #crescent #submission

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raccoonwritings · 5 years

Text

A Drink Away from Honesty

Childhood Friends AU (angst with a happy ending, be warned)

Lucas is an oversharing drunk, Eliott is both desperate and dramatic, and everyone is trying to just keep everything straight.

Or alternatively, Lucas and Eliott were childhood best friends until a storm tears them apart and brings them back together.

(Title from “Don’t Miss Me?” by Marianas Trench)

Chapter 1: You may be dumb, but I like you

Lucas (16) and Eliott (18)

Vendredi 20:59

In theory, a neon party sounds like a good idea. Hanging with his friends, a high probability of getting stoned or drunk, and a chance to get out of his head for just a few hours. Lucas was spending far too much time with himself lately and his friends were beginning to notice. What an opportunity this was for him to experience his teenage years the way they were meant to be experienced.

Except it wasn’t.

As the topic of conversation turned to girls (like it always did), something inside Lucas was shifting. His stomach was queasy, and he was hoping, praying, for them to talk about something else.

That didn’t happen, of course, with Basile’s fanatical obsession with females toppled with his poor interaction skills, a good portion of the evening was being spent on getting him laid. Or at least getting him a hookup. Well, Arthur and Yann were both looking for hookups too, Lucas surmised. He was, is absolutely fine without having a girl attached to his lips.

In a strange turn of events, an hour into the party found a first-year girl – Chloe, Lucas vaguely remembers – pressing him against a wall, her tongue warm and desperate against his. Her hands were roaming his torso, her chest up against his, making him feel slightly, no incredibly, uncomfortable. He knows he feels nothing, knows he’s not attracted to boobs and perfume and vanilla flavored lip glass, knows he prefers hard lines and muscle and messy hair and light eyes and – No, he couldn’t let himself go down that road. He wouldn’t let himself. For now, the girl pressing kisses into his neck was enough.

She was enough, until she was too much. She was enough until she was sinking to her knees and was unzipping his jeans. He didn’t want to do this here, in the hallway of a house of a person he’d met once, especially not in front of other people. Except, he had too. He had to continue playing the part, so he caught her attention, kissing her softly, and asking to take it somewhere more private. Walking through the party, towards the bathroom, Lucas made eye contact with the boys, Arthur and Basile nodding approvingly while making googly eyes at Chloe, Yann smiling tentatively, knowingly. Sometimes, Lucas really hates Yann and the fact that he overshares when he’s drunk.

The walk to the bathroom wasn’t long enough for all the thoughts Lucas to process everything he’s thinking. How was he going to do this? Could he let her do this? Was it fair? He knows he’s making excuses for himself and forcing himself to be like everyone else because it’s easier, better. Sometimes it just be like that.

Soon enough, the alcohol and weed began to kick in, allowing him to crowd Chloe up against the bathroom door. Moving to slide his leg in between hers, Lucas began sucking a mark on her neck. They were like that for what felt like too long and not long enough before Chloe’s hand was caressing the door in search of the handle.

Suddenly, the door was opening, and Chloe was on her way to the ground, managing to drag Lucas with her by the grip she has on his shirt. The position they were now in was the opposite of what he would ever want – lying on a hard surface with a needy girl underneath him. His mind once again began racing, distracting him from what was going on around them. Distracting him from the stranger who was offering a hand to him to get up. He takes it, silently thankful, until he makes eye contact with the stranger who has offered him his hand.

Messy hair, light eyes, hard lines, and muscle. It rattles him down to his core. Lucas knows the face – like he could ever forget it – without having to remove the mask covering the man’s mouth.

Eliott.

Lucas (4) and Eliott (6)

Jeudi 14:09

It’s no secret that Lucas is impatient. It’s his specialty. It’s what makes him unique. Except when he wants to go home after a long day at daycare. He’s only four for heaven’s sake. He wants to walk around in his onesie and retrieve the blanket from his toddler bed, only to curl up on the couch and watch whatever cartoons his dad would put on the tv for him.

His hopes were dashed suddenly, and rather impolitely if you ask him, when his mother informs him that they are stopping at their neighbor’s house to return a ceramic serving plate.

To Lucas, ‘neighbor’ was a bit of a stretch. They were all the way down the street! His little legs can only take him so far, so fast. Plus, it’s not like he can say no. Again, he’s only four.

When Mrs. Demaury greets them, inviting them inside, she nudges Lucas to go play with Eliott, her son, while the adults ‘have a chat.’ Reluctantly, he makes his way over the miniature table in the corner of the living room, which is full of crayons, colored paper, markers, and many more art supplies he notices upon closer inspection. The boy was sitting so his back was facing Lucas, allowing him only to be judged on the messy, most likely unbrushed, curly hair that sat on top of his head. Lucas’ mom would never let him out of the house with out coming his hair. Maybe that was a perk to being older.

Lucas sat opposite the boy, wedging his small frame into the chair pushed into the corner. He helped himself to a piece of paper without asking, because he was still learning his manners, and was deciding what to color as his hand softly reached for the orange marker. Right before he could grasp the marker in his hand, he sees Eliott scoop up all the markers, including the orange one, and look at him for the first time.

“Oh sorry, did you want one?” He asks, with as much of a smirk a child could muster plastered on his stupid face.

What a prick.

He knows that Lucas wants the orange marker, hell he saw Lucas reach for it. It has been a long day and Lucas is just too tired to deal with this shit.

“Give me the orange one,” Lucas demands through pouting lips. He extends his arm towards where the markers are being held hostage and makes grabby hands.

Eliott giggles. “Nah, I’m okay.” He proceeds to chuck all the markers into a storage box that sits right underneath the table. Lucas fumes. He has had enough.

“Give me the orange marker! I want it!” He all but screams while stomping his small feet, thinking that would make Eliott share.

“You’re funny,” Eliott says, closing the box and starting to clean up the table.

Alright, it seems like Lucas is left to his own devices. He’s going to get that marker if it’s the last thing he does in his very young life. He is determined, so he moves quickly and ungracefully toward the marker bin, moving the plastic table with him. He reaches the bin, but he can grab his well-deserved prize, Eliott slams the lid with his hand, preventing Lucas from opening it.

Lucas wants to cry. He really does. This is too much for his undeveloped emotions to handle. He decides that the only reasonable course of action is to pull Eliott’s chair far enough away where he can slide in and retrieve the marker. Remarkably, this isn’t his most thought out plan, but his brain doesn’t have the capacity to think rationally, sue him.

He goes for it, wrapping his hands around one of the front legs of the chair and pulling with all the strength in his small body. Admittedly, he doesn’t get very far, as he isn’t very strong, and decides to give up when he sees Eliott laughing above him.

“You’re surprising.”

Surprising, his ass. Honestly, he no longer has the energy to draw anything, but his desire for the orange marker has hit it’s peak. He turns to his last resort.

“Ms. DeMoory, Eliott won’t share!!!!!!!!” Lucas yells toward the front of the house, where the adults are still talking. This prompts both his mom and Eliott’s mom to enter the living room.

“Eliott, sweetheart, please share with Lucas. We don’t want him to start crying, now do we?” Mrs. DeMaury says soothingly. Lucas likes her already, although he rejects that he was going to cry. He’s a big boy, his mom says so, and he was not going to cry.

Okay, maybe he would’ve cried a little.

Regardless, Eliott eventually gave Lucas the marker, despite Lucas not wanting to draw anymore. Their parents slowly move to the kitchen to finish their conversation and Lucas marvels at the marker he now holds in his hands. Proof that he’s one. Of course, he had to resort to telling on Eliott, but still. He has the marker and Eliott doesn’t.

Right before Lucas’s mom goes to leave Eliott addresses Lucas. ��You may be dumb, but I like you.”

“You’re weird,” Lucas retorts, sticking his tongue out.

“Lucas, love, it’s time to go,” his mom calls. He runs to her, happy to finally be going home. He says goodbye to Mrs. Demaury and begins the walk home with his mom. Only when they enter his living does Mrs. Lallemant notice what Lucas is still holding. “Lucas, is that Eliott’s marker?”

Lucas (16) and Eliott (18)

Vendredi 21:20

Lucas realizes he’s staring at Eliott too long and shakes himself out of his daze. “Thanks for the help, dude,” he articulates harshly. He knows that Eliott knows he recognizes him, but he has nothing left is his body but venom. Disdain.

Lucas is helping Chloe up when he hears Eliott’s voice for the first time in far too long. “Lucas, it’s me, Eliott,” he says, pulling the mask down and revealing his nose and mouth. The mouth Lucas knows too well. Or rather, he knew too well.

“Hi.” Lucas is being short on purpose and he hopes that Eliott understands and by the slight uncomfortable shifting Eliott does on his feet, Lucas knows he does. If he’s being honest, he has no interest in talking to him, now or ever. He is done thinking about him, about how much he misses hanging out with him, cuddling him, kissing him. That Lucas is behind him now and he wants to show Eliott that.

Eliott’s voice tears him from his thoughts again. “How are you? It’s been a long time.” He seems genuinely interested in Lucas’ wellbeing when he has absolutely no right to be. He gave that right up when he dropped Lucas well over a year ago.

“I’m a bit busy right now, so if you wouldn’t mind,” Lucas gestures to the door. Get out. He wraps his arm around Chloe’s waist and when he sees Eliott move to speak again, he captures her lips in a kiss and deepens it automatically. He wants Eliott to get the hint and leave. It’s hard enough he has to pretend to find Chloe attractive, let alone do it in front of someone who knows it’s a front. That it’s fake.

He can feel Eliott’s eyes on him, concerned, confused, and sad. You have no right to be concerned about me. You’re part of the reason I’m like this.

“Alright, I’ll leave you two alone, dude,” Eliott says, forcing a smile that Lucas can see right through. The hurt, the anguish, he can see it all. Lucas hates that he can still read those facial expressions like a book, even after all this time. He watches Eliott follow his wish and disappear through the bathroom door, closing it behind him. Once again, he left Lucas, but this time it was at Lucas’ request. He didn’t know if that hurt more than the first time he left, the time Lucas thought he left for good. He still had so many questions, but for now, he tries hard to focus on the girl in front of him, the girl who couldn’t possibly compare to the guy that just left.

#eliott demaury #lucas lallemant #elu #elu fic #skam france #skam fr #skamfr

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yashalex · 5 years

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crash and burn, baby. crash and burn [Chaters 1 - 4] It’s not a problem when your best mate finds a new crush and forgets about you. It’s the problem when his crush takes an interest in you and you don’t really mind. Or: Lucas Lallemant, a new guy in the school, attracts Eliott's best mate attention... and not just his.

Chapter 1 There're new students in the school and while Eliott isn't interested at all, his best friend Emile is absolutely sure that he found the love of his life.

"I think I fell in love."

Eliott heard this phrase so many time that he paid no attention to his best mate’s words. Emile was one of those guys who used to fell in love every week until he met a new crush. Sometimes it wasn’t even week but days. And when Eliott heard Sofiane and Idriss’ laugh he knew that he wasn’t the only one who didn’t take it seriously. And Emile was offended.

"I’m serious!" He exclaimed, running his hand through the hair.

"Mate, we’re in the school," Sofiane stated the fact. "We know all the people in here. You couldn’t have fallen in love with one of them otherwise it would have happened years ago. Well, if it’s true love, of course."

Eliott smiled at that. He liked how Sofiane was always trying to be reasonable and logical what was the opposite of Emile’s nature.

"Aren’t you listening to me at all?" Emile sounded outraged. Eliott knew that tone. That was a bad news.

"I guess it’s about new kids?" Idriss said, and Eliott and Sofiane looked at him surprised. "What? Imane and her friends are giving them school tour today." After that Idriss returned to his food like he’s done everything he could. And Sofiane began to smile dreamily. It was Imane’s effect.

"Yeah! And I’ve been telling you about them yesterday!" Now Emile was gazing at Eliott. Shit. Now he definitely had a problem. And he even started to remember something. "There was some boiler accident in their school, and that was so serious that all the students were transferred to other schools. And ours was a part of the program. So we finally have some new faces here!"

Emile looked excited. Like really excited and Eliott didn’t really understand it, but he didn’t judge. Eliot himself didn’t really care about the news. He was never close to his old classmates, and a couple of new kids hardly could change it. One look at Sofiane and Idriss made him realize that they were on the same page with him. But none of them stopped Emile from happy blabbering.

"I saw the group of four guys earlier. They’re a year younger than us, and they were with your Imane by the way," these words were addressed to Idriss, but it was Sofiane’s eyes which lightened up once again by the mention of the name. Eliott chuckled. If only Idriss knew… "And as I’m very polite I decided to go and introduce myself. And that was the moment I saw him. Guys, seriously those eyes…"

"Ok, ok, mate, we’ve got it. It was the man of your dreams." Idriss didn’t let Emile finish because he knew that it’s easy for him to be carried away.

Emile was an open gay. He never hid it and he never tried. That why Eliott admired him so much. Having lived through some hell times, he never changed himself, and he tried to teach other people to do the same. Emile was still trying to make Eliott fully accept himself, though this mission was bound to fail. But that was nice of him, he always was a fighter. He always fought for his life, for his rights, and for his friends.

"And what is the boy’s name?" Eliott asked as he knew how important it was for him to have support. Sometimes Idriss was a little bit rude with him (he always regretted it later), and that was one of those times. Probably the guy had some problems with parents again, but it shouldn’t have had an effect on Emile.

"That’s the saddest part. I don't know." Emile sounded a bit upset, but surely it couldn’t have been a big problem for him. And Eliott was right in his thinking as the guy continued. "But his next lesson is Biology with Imane and Alexia, so I’m going to fix this." Ok. He was really prepared.

"We’re coming with you!" Sofiane said too fast and was smiling too wide. Eliott tried his best to hide his own smile. But Sofiane got it and added: "I mean we all want to meet him, right?"

He looked at Eliott, and Eliott nodded his head. He couldn’t believe that he will go to watch how two lovesicks (one with less serious diagnosis) will make idiots out of themselves. Well, at least it would be fun.

[Emile]

the guy from last night keeps asking for your number tell him to fuck off

you know that I can’t

then ignore him I don’t give a fuck you can write it to him if you want

you sure? he’s quite hot and he’s deffo interested

you can take him if you want

nah, I’m alright thanks have my blue-eyed angel to think about so it’s 100% no from you?

101%

you’re cruel

tell me something new

Eliott had one rule in his life and it was not to get attached to the people. And though he one hundred percent failed it when he found his friends, he was still trying to stick to it in personal life. Serious relationships were a big «No» for him. He tried once, everything went to shit, and he gave up. There was no point. And it wasn’t about him being cruel or heartless, it was about him being a good person actually. A good person who was saving people from himself. And Emile usually called it bullshit, but he will never understand. And Eliott was happy about it. No one deserved the shit his life was made of.

There were times when Eliott just wanted to skip lessons and go home. That was one of these days. After the «Literature» he sneaked out of the school and went to the bus stop. He was careful as never as he really hadn’t any desire for his friends to catch him. There’d be definitely questions after, but as long as it wasn’t right now he was alright. He just wanted to be in peace for a while. There was no reason behind it, he just felt like that, and he did that.

When he came to the bus stop there was already a guy sitting there. He looked a little bit younger than Eliott, and he was looking for something in his bag, holding a joint between his lips. Probably, it was someone from his school, but he couldn’t figure out who as he didn’t see the face. Anyway, the thought of him not being the only one who was skipping the school in the middle of the day made him smile, and he sat beside him.

"Mate, don’t you have a lighter? Can’t find mine." The boy said as soon as he noticed that he wasn’t alone anymore.

"I don’t smoke, sorry," Eliott answered not looking at the stranger. The fact was that he really wanted to smoke, but he couldn’t. That was a rule he had no right to break. Not anymore.

"That sucks." There was a pure disappointed in the boy’s voice. Eliott chucked. "Oh, I think I know you. Saw you in the school earlier. With Imane’s brother."

And these were the words which made Eliott turn his head to him. And when he finally saw a guy, the face in front of him took his breath away. He definitely saw some beautiful people before. Some people even considered him quite handsome, but that boy was in absolutely another league. His face was a masterpiece Eliott couldn’t stop looking at. And his blue eyes were the ocean in which Eliott was ready to drown in.

"Wow, you really look like a model. Girls were right." The stranger smiled. And that was really ironic thing to say as Eliott couldn’t stop wallowing in the guy's beauty. That’s why it took him a couple of minutes to realize what he said.

"Sorry?" He asked, trying to look away because he didn’t really want to look creepy. Though he probably has already failed.

"We were on the school tour with the girls, and they told us about everyone we saw on our way. You included. Emma called you a model and Alexia said that you’re one of the hottest guys in the school. I didn’t pay to it attention then but I can see it now." The boy said shamelessly, and Eliott couldn’t have believed his ears. Did he just call him hot? Or was it just his imagination?

"So you’re one of the new kids?" Eliott decided not to pay attention to the boy’s words in case he's got something wrong. The boy nodded his head, putting the joint in his pocket. "And you’re skipping already? I know for a fact that your classes are not finished yet." He knew it because nobody finished at this time.

"Let's call it a family emergency."

"But it doesn’t look like you’re rushing!"

"Well, I’m waiting for a bus, aren’t I?" The boy looked at him again. And Eliott could swear that he saw real sparks in his eyes. Oh, his eyes. They were driving him mad. "And what’s your excuse? Why are you here? «I know for a fact that your classes are not finished yet.»" The boy imitated Elliot’s voice and tone and that made Elliott laugh. Sincerely.

"I'm just not in the mood." He said and the boy smirked.

"Sound like a good reason."

"Yeah, it is."

And then there was a silence. But that wasn’t anything awkward or something like that. Not at all. They were just smiling looking at each other. And Eliott had no idea what was that, but he wished this moment would never stopped. He really could feel like the world was good to him again. And the reason was this boy.

But the moment didn’t last as Eliott’s phone began to vibrate. So he was the first to break off their eye contact to check what that was about. He hoped that the boy wasn't too disappointed with his actions. Because he regretted doing this as soon as he took away his gaze.

[Sofiane]

mate, where are you? we’re meeting Emile’s new love here you forgot?!

"Fuck!" Eliott’s whispered. He really forgot. That was quite a shitty situation.

"What’s happened?" The boy asked. Eliott could feel that his eyes were still on him.

"Just forgot about something. Not a big deal." That was a big deal actually. But he didn’t need to know.

[Sofiane]

fuck, I forgot sorry how is it going?

you can relax the boy wasn’t there we left Emile stayed with his friends and the girls

that’s shit but he’d get over it

btw, where are you?

That was the question Eliott chose to ignore. That wasn’t the time for worrying Sofiane.

And as soon as he closed one chat another began. And Eliott didn’t want to look at it as he really wanted to spend a little bit more time with the boy, but that was Emile. He couldn’t ignore.

[Emile]

a blue-eyed angel wasn’t there but Imane told me the name Lucas isn’t it beautiful?

«Blue-eyed», «wasn’t there», «Imane». His messages struck him as he began to realize something he didn’t even consider before. The boy with ocean-blue eyes was sitting now with him and he was supposed to be at his classes right now. Earlier he had a school tour which was led by Imane and the boy Emile liked was then with her. And Eliott didn’t really want to think about the possibility, because there were a lot of new boys in the school, but, still, the worry settled in his gut.

"Sorry, I didn’t ask your name." Eliott looked at the boy, hoping that it would be Axel or Isak or David or anything else but not THAT name.

"Oh, yeah, I’m Lucas." The boy said still smiling, and Eliott felt like the earth began to slip under his foot.

The world was against him once again.

Chapter 2 Eliott decides to forget about the blue-eyes boy, shame the blue-eyed boy isn't ready to forget about him.

two missed calls from Idriss

three missed calls from Sofiane

five missed calls from Emile

Eliott was in trouble. Or more precisely he was in real shit. And he didn’t even see messages in the chat yet. But he knew that he would pay for it later. There were no doubts about it. But at this moment he didn’t care. He wanted some peace, and he got it. It wasn’t his house where he found it. But this place was close to being called «home». It was «La Petite Ceinture». His safe place. His shelter. His everything.

Eliott always loved to be dramatic, so he loved the idea of having a secret place. A place where he can hide and think. A place nobody knew about. And when he found it, he finally felt safe again. And when it was really hard for him to move on with his life he always came here to find some comfort. And that’s why he came here after the bus stop. After the meeting with the blue-eyed stranger. After meeting with Lucas. One message from Emile was enough for him to let the boy go.

Emile was a real friend. A real friend who sacrificed a lot for him. And he never asked anything in return. And if there was a tiny possibility of Emile’s sufferings from Eliott’s actions, Eliott had no other choice but to stop it straight away. Yeah, he liked the boy. And he would have been happy to give it a try and spend a little bit more time with him. But not if it would risk him his friendship with Emile. And maybe for Eliott, it wouldn’t have ended up as something serious at the end because he closed himself from relationships, but for Emile… yeah, sometimes he was really inconstant, but he was always trying to find something serious. And Eliott had no right to ruin his searching. Even if it won’t work out for his friend and the boy at the end. He had to let it go.

"You’re doing this disappearance act again, and I’m moving out of this fucking flat!"

These were the first and the only words Emile said when Eliott came back home. Then he rushed to his room. A loud slam of the door followed after that. That was the main problem of living together with your best friend. He cared too much. It wasn’t the first time when he said those words. And it definitely won’t be the last time. But it didn’t make Eliott’s guilt any lesser. He felt like a real shit at those moments. He really didn’t deserve Emile.

They decided to move in together a year ago. When Eliott couldn’t live with his parents and their over-protective mood anymore. But he couldn’t have been trusted anymore. And Emile suggested living together and that seemed like a great idea. Well, it was a great idea, and they enjoyed each others company most of the times. But there were moments like this. When Eliott acted like an asshole and Emile had to put up with it. It was unfair to him, but there was nothing Eliott could do to make him leave. So once again he had to fix the situation as soon as possible.

In five minutes he opened Emile’s door and stretched his hand through the crack holding two bottle ob beers. He didn’t show his face.

"I came in peace." He declared, hoping to get a reaction of his friend.

"Are you trying to buy me?" He’s heard Emile’s voice and smiled. That was a good start.

"Maybe?"

"Are these both for me?"

"Maybe," Eliott repeated his words, keep smiling. He didn’t feel anger in Emile’s voice anymore. It was a good sign.

"Ok. You can come in." Emile finally said, and Eliott let out the breath.

Emile was lying on his bed with the phone in his hands. He didn’t look at Eliott, but he accepted the bottle out of his hands when he lay next to him. Eliott saw that Emile was scrolling down Instagram pages of unknown to him people. But that wasn’t his interest now.

"I’m sorry." He said sincerely.

"I know," Emile answered, still keeping his eyes on the phone. Eliott knew what that meant. He wasn’t angry, but he wanted to show that it wasn’t alright at all. And he was right. Guilt consumed him again. "You can’t do this anymore. When we knew that you were out of school, and when you didn’t pick up your phone, we were scared as shit. Sofiane even wanted to call Lucille and your parents!"

"But he didn’t do it, didn’t it?" That was panic in Elliott's voice. There was no way he would want for them to interfere in his life now. He loved them, but recently they were not helping at all.

"Of course I didn’t let him!" Emile knew too well how bad it could have ended. Once again, he was a good friend. Sofiane and Idriss were close to Eliott too, but they never truly understood him. And that was totally fine, as long as Emile was there to back him up.

"Thanks."

"But you can't blame him for this. We all were worried that something had happened."

"Yeah. I get. And as I said I’m sorry. And I will call the guys later and tell them the same." He promised.

"Oh, you better do it!"

Emile finally looked at Eliott and made the first sip out of the bottle. Now that was it. The problem was solved. For now.

"But don’t you think that I’ll forget that you dumped me when I was going to introduce you to new guys today."

That has been said in a funny tone as if it was a joke. But Eliott didn’t want to laugh at all. He knew that now the conversation was leading to the boy. And no way he was ready to go there now. He needed some time but Emile didn’t give it to him.

"That’s so disappointing that a blue-eyed angel wasn’t there, but at least now I know his friends and his name. By the way, I’m looking through their pages right now." Emile showed Eliott a screen of his phone, and Eliott showed a little bit of interest before looking away just not to look too weird. He didn’t want to see it.

"I don’t want to kill the mood, but what if the boy is straight?" Eliott asked. And that was the question of which was on his mind a lot. If the boy was straight, then it would have solved a lot of problems. Both Emile and Eliott would have no chances, they both would have suffered from it a little and then moved on. That would be the perfect scenario for both of them.

"Then my heart would be crushed in pieces," Emile answered. Eliott smiled as his friend clearly exaggerated. How could he say it and be serious? He didn’t even know him.

"So are you going to ask him or what?" Eliott didn’t want to look like he was too invested in his friend’s new crush and their relationships because it could look suspicious. He never paid attention to Emile’s love life before. Well, there was one time, but the situation was really extreme back then. But now it was usual Emile’s crush, and Eliott shouldn’t have been interested in it. But he was interested. He just couldn’t help it.

"I’m thinking on my strategy yet, but I have a good feeling about it, you know? Let’s just keep our finger crossed, yeah?"

Emile smiled at Eliott and Eliott smiled back while there was a mini-Eliott inside him who wanted to scream.

Eliott had a tendency to draw some moments of his life which were making him smile. Two bottles of beer became such a moment. It wasn’t the first time he used such trick to get Emile’s forgiveness, but it was the first time he decided to capture it. So he drew two bottles with smiley faces leaning on each other. That took him 10 minutes to finish the sketch and upload it on Instagram. It was a habit. He didn’t post there anything but his sketches and drawings. He wasn’t a social media guy, but there was something special in sharing his works with the world. And actually quite a lot of people were following him, and he had no idea why, especially when he followed no one. Not even his friends. But when his pictures were getting some reaction he was always feeling a pleasure. As if the things he did had a point. He liked that feeling.

«There is no problem which couple bottles of beer couldn’t solve ;)»

He wrote a caption to the picture and completely forgot about this post by the evening.

He and Emile had dinner in front of the telly. Then Eliott called Idriss and Sofiane to apologize and listen to the lecture from both sides just to be forgiven at the end. And then he was just studying as he missed his last classes, and he knew that the teachers won't let him off the hook easily. He wanted to be ready. And by the end of the day, he was so exhausted, that he wanted just to go to bed. But that wasn’t meant to happen as he saw a notification under his last post which made his heart skip a beat.

lucallemant left a comment under your photo

«these are some wise words, man»

Logically Eliott knew that could be literally anyone. There were thousands of Lucases in this world and this one could be anyone. He had no reason to lose his shit over this. And just to prove he was right he decided to check the stranger page to calm himself down. On the main picture there was a photo of the boy with the ball which gave him absolutely no information about the person. But that wasn’t the only problem. He couldn't check his other photos as the page was private. And there was no way Eliott would have followed him, especially in the case he was wrong and that was that Lucas. And at the end he didn’t need to do anything to know the truth, as he saw:

followed by emile.elime

Emile was following the boy. And Eliott didn’t want to think about bad stuff, but the possibilities of the guy not being that Lucas were becoming lesser and lesser. And the fact that the boy found him and left his mark… well, it wasn’t good at all. And it would be wise of Elliott to delete the comment before Emile noticed it. But he couldn’t make himself do it. He just closed the app and went to bed hoping that the next morning the comment would disappear itself.

The bad news was that this comment didn’t disappear. The good news was that Emile didn’t see it. Eliott had no idea how it could have happened because Emile was the guy who notices everything. Especially on Instagram. But in the morning he didn’t say a word and that meant only one thing: he didn’t know. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have given Eliott a break with his questions.

At school, Elliott was trying to forget about the whole thing and that was easier to say than done. Emile couldn’t stop looking for a boy. Being in the company of Eliott, Idriss and Sofiane his eyes were still wondering somewhere else. He was observing the whole school, and the guys were laughing at it without him even noticing. Eliott had to pretend that it seemed funny to him too. But in fact, he was dreading it. He was dreading to see the boy and lose himself in his eyes again.

But the boy didn’t appear before their eyes, and they all went to their classes and everything was calm. Before Sofiane decided to speak with him.

"Why is it Emile’s Lucas commenting your photos?" Sofiane asked and it would be an understatement to say that Eliott was surprised. He expected it from anyone but not from Sofiane. The guy was usually too busy with his life to notice such things. At least Eliott thought so.

"You know that I have no idea what you’re talking about?" Eliott asked, trying to sound neutral.

"The boy Emile has a crush on commented your photo yesterday, you didn’t see?" Eliott shook his head. Liar. «That’s strange, don’t you think?»

"Not at all." Eliott had to make him believe that it was an absolutely normal thing. And that was probably an absolutely normal thing. "Emile followed him on Instagram, and the boy probably decided to know his friends. It’s a good sign, right?"

"Well, he didn’t leave a comment to me or Idriss or Emile!"

When did Sofiane become so attentive to Instagram shit?

"It’s not my fault that my posts are cooler than yours." Eliott joked and Sofiane bumped him in the shoulder.

They laughed together, and that topic was closed for now. And Eliott hoped that all Sofiane’s suspicions went away. He didn’t need these troubles right now.

Eliott was the first who came at their table in the cafeteria. He had no idea where his band was, but he didn’t really mind sitting a little bit alone for a while. Without Idriss being moody again. Without Sofiane looking for Imane in the crowd. And without Emile looking for the boy around. He put his tray on the table and sat down. And as soon as it happened, somebody else took a seat in front of him. Eliott expected to see one of his friends, but he defiantly didn’t expect to see him.

"Hi!" The boy smiled. And, oh God, he had a beautiful smile.

"Hi," Eliott mumbled. The alarm was ringing in his head. «Did you want something?» Eliott took a sandwich in his hand trying to show that he had no interest in the conversation. What a lie!

"Yeah. I came to say that I’m deeply offended." The boy announced and Eliott looked at him confused. «At first you leave me at the bus station not even saying your name and then you pay no attention to my comment on your Instagram. That’s very rude of you.»

And that’s all was said in such a serious and childish tone that Eliott couldn’t hold his laugh. And judging by the satisfied smile on the boy’s face it was exactly what he was trying to achieve.

"I didn't mean to hurt your feelings, sorry." Eliott smiled at him, having bitten his sandwich. The boy's eyes were following him. «Did you want anything else?»

"Nah, I’m just sitting here until my friends come." The boy said, looking around. "I’ve skipped a couple of lessons, and they already found some new friends."

"That sucks."

"I thought so too, but looking at my position now… " The boy leaned over the table and whispered. "I don’t really mind."

The boy winked at Eliott and Eliott's nearly choked with his sandwich. How could this angel-like boy so shamelessly flirt with him in the middle of the school? And how could Eliott enjoy it? How could he let himself enjoy it? He literally couldn’t stop smiling at the boy and take away his eyes of him. They were holding each other’s gaze and nobody was ready to finish this game. This stupid game in which their eyes were playing and which what the opposite of what Eliott was planning. He wanted to let the boy go, and definitely not to get attracted to him even more. And he failed. He failed and at that moment he had no regrets. There were no regrets at all until he heard the voice behind his back:

"Eliott, sorry, we held up. Do you remember those new guys we were talking about, right? We’ve just met them and…" Emile stopped the second he saw who was at the table with Eliott. "Hi." He whispered to the boy and smiled. And the way he looked at him made Eliott's heart squeeze. Because that wasn’t a look of «I have a crush» Emile. But that was the look of «I fall really, really hard» Emile. Eliott knew that Emile too well.

"Hi, I’m Lucas!" The boy introduced himself. And that was it. There was still a tiny hope in Eliott’s heart that it wasn’t that Lucas. That it was just a confusion. But as soon as Emile and the boy's hands touched in the handshake all the hopes have vanished. That was a lost battle now.

"I didn’t know you and Eliott knew each other!" Sofiane, who was standing right behind Emile, looked at Eliott. Fuck! He knew that something was off.

"Yeah!" Emile nodded his head. "How do you know each other?"

He looked straight at Eliott, expecting an answer, and Eliott knew that he had only one chance not to fuck it up. He needed to tell the truth.

Chapter 3 Sofiane's suspicious, Lucas's offended and maybe ELiott is a little bit lost.

“We met at the bus station yesterday,” Eliott wanted to tell the truth, and that was it. The truth.

“You didn’t mention anything,” Emile noted while they were settling in around the table.

Eliott knew that at least two pairs of eyes were looking at him now: Lucas and Sofiane’s. Shit.

“I forgot, didn’t I?” He shrugged his shoulders, trying to avoid Lucas’ gaze. Part of him hoped that the boy wasn’t offended by it. Another part of him was fuming that he really cared about it.

“That’s a real crime, isn’t it?” Emile said, but his words were meant only for Lucas.

The boy captured all of Emile’s attention. Eliott was sure if the bombing had started outside right at this moment, his friend wouldn’t have even noticed. And that thought was killing him. He seriously hoped that it was a simple crush, nothing too serious as usual, but by the look on Emile’s face, it was obviously not the case. If they had been in some cartoon right now, he would have had heart-eyes on his face.

“How are you finding our school?” Emile asked Lucas while Sofiane was eating Eliott with his eyes. Idriss was the only one who acted absolutely normal, eating his lunch. Eliott was staring at his sandwich. He knew that one glance in the wrong direction would be the end of his.

“Well, at first it seemed really strange to be here. But with every second I enjoy it more and more.”

Eliott didn’t see Lucas’ face, but he was sure that the boy glanced at him the second he said those words. What a fucker!

“That’s great to hear!” Emile exclaimed.

Luckily, being in love for him meant the same as living in the fool’s paradise. He was becoming blind to the most evident things. And that was the first time when Eliott was really grateful for it. Shame he couldn’t say the same about Sofiane. He could feel future problems with him with his bones.

“So are you going to tell me where did you bury bodies of my friends or I need to call the police? Cause you were the one with whom I saw them last time.” Lucas said playfully and Emile laughed. And he wasn’t the only one as Idriss smirked too. Sofiane was still too busy with glaring at Eliott. Shit!

But there was something that let a tiny smile appear on Eliott’s face for a split-second. Lucas’ friends didn’t dump him for his new friends, but he dumped them. He saw Eliott’s gang with his friends, and he decided not to join them but come here and sit with Eliott. And Eliott was 99% percent sure that it was his imagination playing with him, but, still, the idea was warming him inside. And that sucked.

“Don’t worry, they’re going to be here soon,” Emile said. And Eliott wasn’t sure if his eyes even left Lucas’ face during all this time.

“Yeah, the girls caught them, and your guys probably have some problems to run away from them now,» Idriss added, and Emile nodded his head in agreement.

“Was Daphne there?” Lucas asked. Idriss nodded while chewing his sandwich. “Then it’s probably girls can't run away from my boys and not another way around. Bazile lost his head over Daphne, and now she is the only thing he can talk about.»

Lucas tried to sound irritated, but his voice was really soft while he was talking about his friend. Eliott liked that.

“I better go and save them.”

Lucas stood up, grabbing his bag. Emile clearly wasn’t happy about it.

“You can always sit and eat with us,” he suggested, but Lucas shook his head. Thankfully.

“Maybe another time.” The boy winked to them and left. Finally, Eliott could breathe again.

“He’s so cool, right?” Emile was looking at his friends. He definitely expected them to support him in his thinking.

“He’s alright,” Idriss commented, but the tone of his voice didn’t show any interest in the boy at all.

Suddenly the phone vibrated in Eliott’s pocket, and he totally missed what Sofiane had to say about the new guy while pulling it out. When he saw a notification, his hands began to shake. And he didn’t want to think about the reason behind it.

lucallemant sent you a message

Never in his life had Eliott wanted to open and no to open the message at the same time. Still, Lucas’s gone just a few seconds ago, and Eliott was dying to know what he could have possibly sent to him. But the fact that Emile was sitting right next to him didn’t make anything easier. And his best friend was clearly under «Lucas’ effect». However, so as Eliott, so after a couple of moments of staring at the screen, he finally opened his message.

lucallemant forgot about me? seriously??!!! now i’m even more offended

It was a miracle how Eliott managed not to burst into laughter after reading this. That was really funny and even cute in a way. And he couldn’t stop smiling at his phone. He just couldn’t control his face. And he knew that it was stupid of him, and it wasn’t the place for this shit, but he hoped that nobody would notice it. How naïve.

It didn’t take long for Sofiane to catch Eliott after the lessons and took him «to talk». Eliott wasn’t stupid, and he knew that it was coming, especially after all the glares of the guy in the cafeteria. His friend surely suspected that something was off, and he wasn’t the person who was ready to let go of something easily. It was now Eliott’s task to persuade him that he saw things, which weren’t real. And that was a hell task to do.

“You can start talking,” Sofiane said while they were walking down the street.

Idriss and Emile were still in the school as they had one more lesson. And now Eliott really wished they were with them just to stop Sofiane from sniffing around.

“Can you at least explain what I have done wrong now?” Eliott said playfully, knowing pretty well that no way Sofiane would buy this.

“Eliott, can you not disrespect me like this, please?!” Sofiane said, being unimpressed.

“Ok, just ask what you want to know, and I’ll answer if I’ll have the answers you need,” Eliott gave up immediately. He didn’t want to fall out with Sofiane. Not because of something that wasn’t even a thing. And that was the point Eliott had intentions to prove.

“Why did you lie about not knowing the boy when I asked you about his comment?” Sofiane went straight to the questions. Actually, it was a pretty easy one.

“I didn’t know it was him. And as I’ve said, I totally forgot about this bus-station meeting.” That lie was easy to say. And that was a lie. Because this «bus-station meeting» was everything he could think about that day.

Sofiane was looking at him with suspicion. He didn't believe him or didn’t believe him fully. He clearly had his doubts, but he changed the course of his «interrogation». And his next question wasn’t so easy to answer.

“Why are you both were acting so strange when we came?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about!” That was the truth. Eliott tried to act as casual as possible, and he’s done nothing but stared at the tray on the table. And apparently, that was the wrong thing to do.

“Then why did you avoid looking at us and especially at Lucas and Emile while the boy was fucking you with his eyes right under our noses?”

Sofiane stood in front of Eliott, expecting to hear a good, reasonable explanation. But Eliott wasn’t rushing with his answer as his mate’s words gave him something to think about. Was Lucas’ staring really so obvious and bad? Eliott knew that the boy was looking at him from time to time, but «fucking him with his eyes»? No. Sofiane clearly overreacted.

“I didn’t notice such a thing,” Eliott said, shrugging his shoulders.

“Of course, you were too busy with your tray!” Sofiane exclaimed, and Eliott chuckled.

“Look, mate, till the moment the boy crashed at the table I even didn’t know his name!” Liar. “I have no idea why he left me that comment, and I don’t know what you saw at the table, but you clearly misread the situation. I don’t know the boy, and it looks like he’s just trying to be friendly with everyone. And I wasn’t in the mood for this bullshit, so that’s why I didn’t pay to him any attention at the lunch!” Eliott put all his soul into these words just to sound sincere and for Sofiane to believe him.

“Why? What happened? Was it connected with your disappearance yesterday?” Now Sofiane was worried about him. Great!

Eliott began to feel like he was doing everything only worse. Maybe, he really should have told the truth, called the boy some crazy stalker and maybe it would have taken Emile’s interest off him. But somehow Eliott couldn’t do such a thing to the boy. So the lie kept coming.

“No. I just studied till late and didn’t get much sleep,” he reassured his friend and put his hands on Sofiane’s shoulders. “My point is that there is nothing going between me and the boy. I swear. ”

“OK. I believe you,” Sofiane finally said, and it felt like he was serious. Eliott smiled at him while his conscience was eating him up inside. He hated lying to his friends. However, he had good intentions. “I just see how Emile looks at this boy, and it looks serious. And if there is something between you and Lucas, then you better tell the truth now. You and Emile are both my friends, and I love you, so I don’t want one of you to suffer at the end. And today I felt the vibe that it’s pretty much possible.”

Sofiane was always a very perceptive person. He knew when someone was feeling bad or hiding something. He noticed things which others didn’t. He asked questions which others were afraid to ask. And he was always there for you when you needed even if you didn’t ask him. And that was the moment when Eliott saw all of it in him and even thought about him being right. Maybe he should have told everything straight away. To him. To Idriss. To Emile. And not just about his meeting with Lucas, but also about the feelings which the boy made him feel. And maybe it would have saved him from a real misery in the future, but there was one problem: he saw the way Emile was looking at Lucas too. There was no going back now.

“If Lucas is into guys then Emile can take him, I don’t care. No man can stand between the best buddies, right?” Eliott was smiling at Sofiane until he started to smile back.

Eliott clapped him on the back, and they continued to walk not mentioning Lucas anymore. And Eliott hated himself for talking about the boy like he was some object which they could pass to each other, but he had to do it that way. Sofiane had to hear it like this. He knew that there was no way Eliott would have said something like that about the person he really cared about.

Eliott and Sofiane were chilling on their sofa, eating pasta and watching some crappy TV show. They were talking about school and the stuff they had to do but were too lazy for it. And that was a typical evening for them. They both were checking their phones times from time… well, Emile actually didn’t take his eyes off his, but Eliott wasn’t so addicted to that thing. Thank God. But one notification was enough for him to lose his shit over it.

lucallemant sent you a message

And for some reason, he didn’t hesitate this time and read it straight away.

lucallemant

still offended …

Once again that made Eliott smile, but not for long, as Emile was sitting in a couple of inches from him. And probably it was Lucas’ page he was obsessively looking through even if he already saw it a thousand times.

Looking at Lucas’ messages, Eliott began to think what under other circumstances he should have done. He should have clicked «follow» and that would have been the next move Lucas was clearly waiting from him. And in this reality, he was almost ready to do it, as they officially knew each other now. Emile and Sofiane have already followed him, and that wouldn’t have been weird if Eliott would’ve started to follow him too. But that could have given the boy the wrong idea, and Eliott didn’t want to do it. And he also didn’t want to get too close to the boy. He knew almost nothing about him, and his page could give him something, and he didn’t want that. He didn’t want to get even more attached to him. He couldn’t let it happen.

“This is so interesting. He’s so open and so closed at the same time,” Emile said thoughtfully, having attracted Eliott’s attention.

“Who?”

“Lucas!” Emile answered as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “His page is full of photos of him and his friends, but still it says nothing about him as a person!”

That was ironic how just a couple seconds ago Eliott was thinking about not wanting to know anything from Lucas’ page, but Emile decided to give him something to cling to anyway. As if the universe was laughing at him. But Emile’s started it, and now Eliott was too intrigued to let it go.

“What do you mean?” He asked.

“Well, if you look at your page you’ll see that you like drawing, your stupid dubstep music and that you have the “Polaris” project in which you put all your soul. Sofiane’s page is all about dances, charities and child-football. Mine is a fan-page of every hot dude on this planet and Agatha Christie. Idriss posts nothing because he doesn’t care about the shit. Lucas’ friend Bazile is a guy who loves stupid memes, jokes and girls. And looking at Lucas’ page, it’s all just him and his friend doing stupid things with dumbasses faces!”

“Maybe he’s just a dumbass?” Eliott suggested, wishing it would be the truth. If it were like that, it would have been so much easier for him and Emile to forget about his existence.

“Nah, you saw him. It’s obvious that he’s much more than that.”

Unfortunately, Eliott couldn’t but agree. And that was a funny thing. He and Emile didn’t know the boy at all, but they both felt his energy which was screaming about him being unique in some way.

“Well, not everybody loves to show the whole world his life. It’s a normal thing.”

“Yeah, I know. I just want to know something about him. If I even have a chance for starters. But I have no idea where to start.” Emile sounded desperate, and that didn’t look like him at all. Usually, he always knew how to make the first move and what to do next. But now he looked lost. He was afraid to fuck all up. That was too important.

“Just write to him,” Eliott suggested, thinking about their own chat which Lucas’s created earlier.

“Won’t it be too weird? Just to write to him out of nowhere?” Clearly, Emile wasn’t sure that it was a good idea.

“Well, just ask him if he managed to save Daphne or some shit like that. If he will answer, that’s great. If he won’t… well, his loss!”

Eliott clapped him on the shoulder and went to wash their dishes. He saw that Emile was thinking about his words for several moments, and then he started typing. A few minutes have passed when Eliott’s heard a happy squeal from him. There were no questions needed. It seemed like he’s got his answer. And despite the fact that Eliott was partly the one who helped it to happen, he still didn’t feel like sitting and witnessing the scene. He finished washing the dishes and went to his room. Emile was too busy to notice his absence anyway.

That night he went to sleep early. And right before it, he checked his phone one last time. There was one new message.

lucallemant

:((

Eliott’s heart sank, and he closed the chat immediately. He didn’t want to think about why the boy just couldn’t leave him alone. But Eliott was going to help him with it. If Eliott would ignore him then the boy would give up. Probably he’s already done that. And that was quite a painful thing for Eliott to think about. But that was the only way. He was doing the right thing. At least he wanted to believe it.

Chapter 4 Eliott's invited to the party and his tongue gets him in the troubles.

The day was calm. Actually, it was Friday, so everybody was just patiently waiting for it to pass to finally enjoy weekends. Idriss decided to give himself one extra day off, so he skipped school, having said that he didn’t feel well. Of course, it was a lie, and nobody knew where the guy really was. Because he definitely wasn’t at home. Imane said that. However, it didn’t really bother his friends that he lied. If he needed time, they were ready to give it to him.

“Do we have plans on these weekends?” Sofiane asked while they were chilling on the bench outside the school. That was a sunny day so most of the students were crawling back from the building just to enjoy a little bit of sun on their break.

“No, as far as I know,” Eliott said, having closed his eyes. He was facing the sun. Its tender rays were having a relaxing effect on him.

“Emile?” Sofiane turned to another friend.

“What?” Emile asked because he clearly didn’t hear the question.

The fact was that Emile wasn’t with Eliott and Sofiane that day. He was with his phone. More precisely, he was with Lucas. Since Eliott left him yesterday evening, he didn’t see his mate let his eyes off the thing. And that was irritating. For more than one reason. But he was smiling a lot, and that was enough for Eliott to put up with this. Though he desperately wanted to know what was so interesting in their conversation that couldn’t let Emile go. But Eliott didn’t ask. He wasn’t sure that he was ready to know the answer.

“I’m starting to get jealous here!” Sofiane resented, but the smile was giving him away. Eliott opened his eyes just to see it, and that made him smile. Emile rolled his eyes, but didn’t say anything back. Emile’s phone vibrated again, and he turned his attention to it. “See? We’ve lost him!”

“Hi!” Eliott had no time to answer, as he heard a grating girl’s voice.

“Hi, Daphne!” Sofiane answered.

Daphne and Imane were standing in front of them, and it wasn’t the blond Sofiane was looking at. Of course. Once again Imane became the center of his universe. And it was clearly a mutual thing. How nobody noticed how these two were looking at each other yet was beyond Eliott. He’s been waiting for an invitation to their wedding since they met the first time. And they were just kids then!

“We came to invite you to our party tonight at Emma’s,” Daphne said excitedly.

“Tonight?” Eliott asked confused. Was she serious? “Who’s inviting people to the party on the day of the party?”

“Well…” The smile vanished of Daphne's face. She clearly didn’t have an answer.

“Every time we invite you, you turn us down, so what’s the difference? You just say “no”, and we’ll leave you alone,” Imane said, and that was a good point. They really were rare guests at the girls’ parties. It wasn’t that they didn’t like being there, but it didn’t feel right. Imane was always trying to look after Idriss for him not to get too drunk. Sofiane was running after her just in case she needed help. Emile was «too cool and old» to make out with his classmates and always ran away to the local gay bars. And Eliott was simply bored. So in the end, it wasn’t a pleasure for anyone, so they skipped what the girls were offering them quite a lot. Still, Daphne was always trying to get them in, Eliott gave her credit for that.

“And before you say “no” just hear us out!” The Daphne asked, and that was the least they could do. “This party is devoted to all the new students in our school. We want them to feel like home, and we want to welcome them properly. So it would be great to gather as many students as possible!»

“Well, that sounds nice, but…” Eliott began, but Emile woke up in time to stop him.

“That means all the new guys will be there?” He asked, and Daphne began to nod her head like a crazy energized bunny. That was scary as fuck. “We will be there!” Emile announced.

Daphne squealed with excitement and began to jump, clapping her hands. Imane smiled too, but Eliott knew that it wasn’t about them coming. It was about Sofiane coming.

“Great! That will be great!”

These were the last Daphne’s words before the girls went away. Eliott and Sofiane were looking at Emile with the question in their eyes.

“What?” He said. “There’s no better place to know the people than a party. So I think that’s a great idea.”

Of course, he wasn't fooling anyone. The only reason he dragged them in this was Lucas. He wanted to reach the boy, and he was clinging to every chance. Eliott could understand it, but it didn’t make him less frustrated. It was a real challenge to watch them texting to each other, but to watch them interact at the party where will be a lot of alcohol and no shame? That would be torture. He really needed to find a way to avoid this execution. And when he started to think about all the possibilities, the phone vibrated in his pocket.

lucallemant I guess i see you at the party then? ;)

This message made Eliott look around immediately to find what he was looking for. Lucas and his friends, Eliott still didn’t know them, were standing right in front of the entrance of the school. Lucas was lazily leaning on the wall, turning his phone in his hand, while his mates were actively discussing something. And suddenly Eliott wasn’t sure if he really wanted to miss this party.

“Are you alright?” Emile asked Eliott when he noticed that his friend was too quiet.

Eliott was sitting on Emile’s bed while his friend was running around in a panic, trying to find what to wear. Everything he chose he showed to Eliott and every time Eliott nodded his head as his approval his friend decided that it wasn’t that. So Eliott was nothing more than an accessory at this moment, and he didn’t mind. It was nice to see Emile so excited.

But there was something that was bothering him, and he knew that Emile would be the only one to understand.

“My mum and dad want to meet me tomorrow. They say they have some news,” Eliott shared with a friend with what he’s heard only an hour ago on the phone. Emile stopped with his fussing and sat on the bed facing Eliott. He looked concerned.

“And what did you say?”

“I said that I’ll let them know later.” Eliott sounded guilty. He knew he did because he was feeling it.

After everything his parents did for him, he was really shitty with them. And him not wanting to go to see them was a real example of it. He didn’t deserve them.

“Don’t feel bad just because you feel what you feel,” Emile said the same thing he was always telling him when they were talking about Eliott’s parents. He knew what emotions this topic was arising in him. “If you don’t want to go, tell them. They’ll understand. If you want to go, but if it’s still hard, I can go with you, it isn't a problem. But you don’t have to do anything that doesn’t sit right with you, OK?” As always, his tone was caring and reassuring. Emile always knew what buttons were needed to push.

“Yeah, I know.” Eliott smiled. “But this time I think I need to go. Alone. I owe them that. And I think it’d be right.”

“Only if you’re sure.” Emile reached Eliott’s hand and squeezed it. “But if you change your mind, you know where I am. Don’t you ever forget that you are not alone.”

Emile smiled at him once again and then returned to his wardrobe. Eliott looked at his phone.

[Mother]

write me a place and the time and I’ll be there

He pushed «send» and put away the phone. And as Eliott couldn't have thought any good reason to save himself from his future suffering, he and Emile still had a party to go to.

When they arrived the place was already filled with loud music, smoke, and drunk students. Emile had a habit to come to the parties later because it was when all fun was starting. So the fact that half of the people were already lost to this world didn’t surprise Eliott at all. He knew that Sofiane and Idriss have been already here, as they came together with Imane. Eliott and Emile were trying to break through sweat drunk bodies with Eliott trying to avoid all the unnecessary tactile contact with them. And it was a challenge to go past them without somebody pouring the content of his cups on them or something worse. Actually, there was already a pretty awful smell in the flat, but everybody was too out of their minds to notice it.

“Awww! You came!” A blonde fury rushed on them with a big hug. That was some awkward shit, but Emile and Eliott just accepted it, smiling.

“Sorry, we’re late,” Emile said to Daphne, giving her one of his charming smiles. Despite him being gay and everybody knowing about it, he still had an effect on the girls, and he knew how to use it. “So are all the new students here?”

“Yeah, we’ve read them a welcome speech and half of them probably have already fallen asleep somewhere.” Manon appeared next to Manon with the cup in her hand. With the cup of something non-alcoholic. Every time she drank, she was getting into troubles, so she decided to quit it. And when Eliott and his friends came to the girls' party after all, she was his non-drinking buddy. Actually, he liked her and enjoyed her company. Sometimes they even had a «non-drinking quartet» with Imane and Sofiane when they were kind enough to join them.

“And Sofiane and Idriss? Did you see them?” Eliott was trying to find his friends in the crowd. Emile was looking into it too, but Eliott was sure that it wasn’t his mates he was looking for.

“Oh. You better see it yourself!” Manon smiled at them mysteriously and led them to another room.

All the people gathered in the big circle there, focusing all the attention to the center, clapping their hands and cheering. It took the company some effort to squeeze through all the bodies to know what that was about. And when Eliott saw the action a huge grin lightened his face.

“Are these two having a dance battle?” He shouted to Manon, and she just pointed to them, what meant “and what do you think?”.

At the center, Sofiane and Imane were standing facing each other and giving one of their best moves at a time. And that was fascinating. They were rivals, but they acted like a duet. They wanted to defeat the other, but they obviously didn’t want it to stop. The way their bodies moved, the way they looked at each other, the way they smiled, that all was screaming about some great story between them, which just couldn’t get started.

“Fucking soulmates!” Eliott commented, and Manon smiled at him because she knew.

Somehow, in the crowd, he lost Emile, and in an attempt to find him, he bumped into some boy, who poured his beer on Eliott’s shirt.

“Fuck!” Eliott roared, but the boy didn’t even notice it.

Thankfully, Eliott has already been in Emma’s house, so he knew where to start looking for a bathroom. Probably it had no sense to go there because some loved up couple has already probably occupied it. But he couldn’t go around, smelling like a beer barrel, so he had to try. When he opened the door, he got an impression that it was empty there and he rushed to the sink. However, he really should have looked around.

“And here I thought that you’ve been avoiding me.” Lucas’ voice made Eliott jump. Lucas’ drunk voice.

The boy was sitting in the bath with a bottle of beer in one hand and a joint in another. He was wearing black jeans and a dark-blue skirt with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows. His hair looked really wild, and Eliott thought that they were messy before, but that was something else. They were pointing in different directions, and a couple of locks were cascading over his face. And that was one of the hottest things Eliott ever saw. And that was scary what influence the boy’s look had on some of his organs.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Eliott turned to the sink and turned the water, trying to wash the smell of the beer of his hands and not to think about blue eyes, which were looking at him now.

“I’m waiting for my friends. They left to bring more booze, but I won’t be surprised if they have forgotten about me already. So do you want to join me?” Lucas extended his hand with a beer, and Eliott had no other choice but to look at him. Actually, he has had a choice, but who cared, right?

“Thanks, but I’m not drinking.” Eliott smiled at the way the boy’s face changed. He looked like he was trying to figure something out, but he couldn’t.

“You’re not smoking and you’re not drinking. Are you trying to be a perfect future son in law for your future girlfriend’s parents?” Lucas assumed, examining Eliott with his eyes. It made Eliott chuckle.

“Maybe,” he said with a smile. “Not necessary girlfriend’s though.” And that really slipped off his tongue, and that was too late when he understood what he’s done. He realized it only when he saw the way boys’ eyes brightened up, and he licked his lips. Fucking hell, Eliott really wasn’t handling it well. And it was definitely getting too hot in the room.

And luckily for Eliott, he was saved before he said something he could regret later as the door opened, and three boys rushed into the room, screaming and shouting something. Eliott caught a glimpse of disappointment on Lucas’s face before it was replaced with a wide smile. And here was the moment when Eliott decided that he needed to go. Well, he ran away from there actually.

The party was gaining momentum as the people were getting drunker and craziness around has become more surreal. There were couples making out at every corner of the flat. And it wasn’t possible to hide from the view of tongues and naked bodies anymore. Eliott felt like he was ready to go home any time soon, but still, he was staying, chatting with Sofiane and Manon. And part of him knew what didn’t let him go so easily. The boy who was passing him by with his mates a couple of times and glancing at him secretly. But those glances were enough for Eliott to start burning inside.

“When are you going to talk to her?” Eliott asked Sofiane, trying to distract himself. Imane came to them earlier and took Manon away because Emma needed their help. And when he saw once again a look of a loved-up puppy on his friend’s he couldn’t help himself. Sofiane looked at him questioning. Eliott rolled his eyes. “Come on, mate, you and Imane are soulmates, even the blind can see it. Just go and talk to her!”

“Like it’s so easy!” At least Sofiane wasn’t denying his feelings.

“You’ll never know if you won’t try,” Eliott said, and Sofiane clearly began to think about it.

“Hi, Eliott!” A brunette suddenly jumped out in front of him. Liana. He remembered her. A nice tiny girl with whom he was making out on some parties before but nothing more. She definitely had a crush on him, but he was always clear about not wanting anything serious. But she was too clingy, and he decided not to go there again.

“Hi,” he said, having zero interest in her.

Actually, there was something much more interesting in the background. Lucas and his friends were in the frame again, only this time Idriss and Emile joined them. He saw only Lucas, Idriss and the blond guy with the glasses on his face, but it was clear that all their attention was drugged by Emile. He was telling something waving his arms around. The company was constantly laughing. Lucas was laughing too. And probably it could have upset Eliott, but it wasn’t like that. Because he knew that the boy was glancing at him again from time to time, but he was doing it carefully. Nobody has noticed a thing. But Eliott did. And he saw how hard Emile was trying to attract the boy’s attention, and it wasn’t fair to take it away, from him, so Eliott needed to act. And he needed to act fast.

Liana was still standing there, talking some shit about «good old times» and «having fun», and Eliott saw an opportunity. He knew that it was the wrong thing to do, he knew that he would regret this in the morning. But that was an extreme measure. So he grabbed her by her jacket, pulled her closer, closed his eyes and kissed. That wasn’t even a kiss, but a weak attempt. But Liana didn’t notice it apparently, as she grabbed his face with hands and responded to the kiss. And Eliott felt nothing, absolutely nothing apart from a desire to finish it as soon as possible. And that «kiss» didn’t really last long, 10-15 seconds, but for Eliott, it seemed like an eternity. And when he opened his eyes, he saw that company disappeared once again and Lucas too, so he broke off the kiss immediately, said Liana something about calling her later and rushed to the door. The party was over for him now.

When he came back home, he didn’t fell asleep straight away. He decided to go through another torture and watch all the Instagram posts his friends and other students posted from the party. And there were many photos. Sofiane posted a photo with Imane, calling her the best dance-rival ever. Idriss posted a photo of the battle, describing Imane and Sofiane as «these talented fuckers». That was an achievement for him. Probably he was really impressed. Manon had a photo with Eliott, Sofiane and Imane, which had the caption «best non-drinking buddies in the world». Eliott smiled and liked it. And as for Emile… he posted a lot. Eliott wasn’t with him a lot at the party, but his friend was clearly enjoying it. His page was full of photos with different people, some of them Eliott knew, some of them he saw the first time. And there was a lot of Lucas there. Of course, it wasn’t only him, but the girls, his friends, and Emile, but, still, he was the one who attracted Eliott’s attention. And here he saw what Emile was talking about the other day. Lucas was a fan of dorky faces on photos and somehow it didn’t feel like him. And Eliott had to close all the photos before he went too far away with this in his thoughts. The reality was that he didn’t know the boy. They shared several strange moments but that was it. No information about him or his personality. Eliott still knew nothing. But still, he wasn’t surprised when he got the message.

lucallemant i had to leave too that’s all was just fake

And Eliott didn’t even think what the boy meant. It could be about this stupid party, or about people pretending as if they cared about them, or about Eliott’s kiss or about anything else for that matter. He just fell asleep, thinking about him not being a stranger to this feeling.

#skam france #elu fics #my fics #finally posting it here #four chapters in one post?#yeah #i'm that lazy #another forth chapter will be later #i hope #crush and burn baby

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faerytalesfromtheabyss · 5 years

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Faerie Books For “Folk of the Air” Withdrawals

In my opinion, Holly Black is the gold standard for faerie books. She writes faeries in a way that draws on folklore, yet makes sense in the common day. She has concrete rules that her faeries never break (eg. aversion to salt and iron, their magic can’t work against charms, they can deceive but can’t lie, etc.) Faeries seem different than humans and we are constantly reminded that they are alien creatures (Eg. Performing monstrosities, their morality, the way they speak)

When faeries use magic it seems so natural to the universe Black has created that it doesn’t really feel like magic. The one time someone uses a spectacular display of magic that could be perceived as overpowered (at the end of The Wicked King), it’s someone coming into his powers and truly accepting his role as a king.

I’ve already written a pretty extensive post about the other books in Holly Black’s faerie universe (Modern Faerie Tale Series, Darkest Part of the Forest, Spiderwick, etc). Check that out if you’re looking for more Holly Black books and want to learn about my suggested reading order.

Under the cut, I’ll talk about other YA faerie books and some resources if you want to learn more about faerie folklore. You should also take into account that I’m super picky about books. Even though I gave a lot of them low ratings, I don’t regret reading any of them. I’m just overly critical, and there are specific trends and tropes that really bug me. Definitely look on Goodreads for a more detailed summaries and other reviews.

Let’s address some of the most popular faerie books first:

The Dark Artifices by: Cassandra Clare

If you like Holly Black, you’ll probably like (and probably already know) Cassandra Clare. They both write urban fantasy and they're both part of the same writing group. They even went on tour together.

The Mortal Instruments and Infernal Devices have faeries in them, but faeries don’t become a central point in the Shadowhunter universe until The Dark Artifices.

I’m still slowly trekking my way through Mortal Instruments Part II so I haven’t gotten to The Dark Artifices yet. And since events that happen in Mortal Instruments directly affect the characters in Dark Artifices, you can’t really skip directly to this series.

Throne of Glass by: Sarah J. Maas

I honestly can’t address the faeries in this series because I’ve only read the first 3 books, but I assume they’re going to be pretty similar to the fae in A Court of Thorns and Roses. Luckily, I heard this series picks up in book 4, so we’ll see. I honestly haven’t been very impressed with the first three books.

Okay, so here are some books I can give actually give insight into:

A Court of Thorns and Roses by: Sarah J. Maas

A Court of Thorns and Roses (3/5 Stars)

A Court of Mist and Fury (5/5 Stars)

A Court of Mist and Fury (4/5 Stars)

A Court of Frost and Starlight 2/5 (Honestly, there was no plot in this novella)

This talking point doesn’t have to do with faeries, but it’s something I think people should be aware of before picking up this series:

There are a lot of issues with consent (or more accurately, the lack there of) in A Court of Thorns and Roses. I don’t want to go into that here so I’ll link to a Mostly YA Lit blog post that points out the issues I have with the first book. I think A Court of Mist and Fury started to broach the issues of consent in ACOTAR, but it didn’t explore this topic as thoroughly as I would have liked.

Personally, I wouldn’t call this a good faerie series. Most of the faeries act far too much like humans. So much so, that I sometimes forget that they’re fae. They just act like humans with super powers. Folk lore elements—like faeries not being able to lie and aversion to iron—are thrown right out the window. All the characters (especially in the later books) are way overpowered. For you writers out there, this book is a good example of how to not employ a soft magic system.

While I wouldn’t call this a good faerie series, I would still call this an alright series. A lot of people love this series.

SMJ’s strongest skills are writing characters and exploring characters’ emotions. Although I a ton of issues with this series, I would be lying if I didn’t say that A Court of Mist and Fury is one of the best YA fantasy books to explore PTSD, pain, and healing.

The Scorpio Races: by Maggie Stiefvater (5/5 Stars)

Unlike the other books on this list, this book doesn’t focus on faery courts. The Scorpio Races focuses on one very specific type of faery, the eich uisce, a type of man-eating water horse from Celtic folklore. Every year on the island of Thisby, people capture and train these water horses in order to race them.

Like Holly Black’s books, Stiefvater incorporates folklore but adds her own twist. She’s very consistent with the magic rules she sets on water horses. (Eg. Bells and red ribbons can calm them, they have an aversion to iron, etc)

Now some less popular faerie books: An Enchantment of Ravens: (3/5 Stars)

This book takes place in a fantasy world with humans and faeries.

Here’s the downside: The heroine and love interest are very typical YA characters. (It was written in 2017, but it feels like it was written in 2007). There really isn’t anything unique about the main charters, and they didn’t have much chemistry.

Now, here’s the good stuff: The book has a very interesting interpretation of faeries. If faeries try to make anything (even cook), they will start to crumble away and die. The faeries find humans valuable because humans are able to make crafts. Humans can become fae... at a price—they have to give up their art. One of the interesting things though is that the heroine, an artist, is opposed to becoming immortal because she would have to give up her art.

The Wicked Lovely Series: Melissa Marr

Wicked Lovely 2/5

Ink Exchange 3/5

The Wicked Lovely Series is an urban fantasy series where the fae live invisible among humans.

The first book is very preachy at some points. And there’s a disconnect between the feminist values that the author attempts to display and what is actually in the story (how the characters behave, the plot, etc). Also, the author breaks the rules she sets up in her universe. (Eg. Faeries aren’t supposed to be able to go near iron… Oh wait, the strong ones can. Oh wait, it looks like pretty much all of them can with little affect.) Both books have issues with consent and women being controlled by fae.

Why do I continue to read this series? I like the world Marr created. It’s dark and intriguing so many authors forget the manevolent nature of faeries. Marr also has an interesting interpretation of how fae would live in cities. It reminds me a bit of Holly Black’s Modern Faerie Tale series. Also, I like that the endings of these books are different than most YA. To avoid spoilers, I’ll say there’s some subverting of tropes.

Wintersong by: S. Jae-Jones (2/5 Stars)

Wintersong takes place somewhere in Austria or Germany during the late 1700s. It’s like a combination of Pan’s Labyrinth, the poem Goblin Market, alderking folklore, and some Beauty and the Beast/Hades and Persephone thrown in.

One of the things I like about this book is that the main character is ugly and that never changes. Seriously, YA has too many jaw-droopingly-beautiful heroines. Being pretty has nothing to do with your value as a person. Can I please have some average or ugly heroines with good self esteem or that achieve good self esteem?

The goblins and their home are dark and twisted ( think Under the Mountain if you like SJM or unseelie court or )

While the writing is beautiful, this book is riddled with plot holes and things that don’t add up. The first half of the book is great and has to do with the main character saving her sister from the Goblin King/Alderking. Then it drifts off into never-never land. The plot diminishes. You can also tell that this book was originally going to be written for adults and was changed (seemingly at the last minute) to YA.

Also, there’s a lot of weird issues about sex. The main character is fixated on the idea that having sex will make her a woman. Also, it has that shitty misconception about women bleeding when they have sex for the first time. No, that shouldn’t happen. Fantasy books (especially YA which is aimed at young women) need to get rid of that trope. There’s also some shit that the heroine will die if she has sex with the Goblin King too often because it draws on her life-force or some shit.

Seriously, why is sex handled so poorly in so many of these books? How hard is it to have consensual sex that is handled normally. Hint: It’s not!

I would like to take a moment to thank Holly Black for writing Jude as a character (and even Taryn) with agency in her sex life.

The Iron Fey Series by: Julie Kagawa

I’m currently reading the first book in this series. Let me tell you, it feels very circa 2010 YA. A half-human-half-faerie girl goes to a magical land to save her brother from faeries. It leans a lot on characters from A Midsummer Night’s Dream.

Resources for Learning More About Faery Folklore

Faeries by Brian Froud and Alan Lee

This is a really good, quick resource if you want to take a crash course in faerie lore. (Eg. Common types of fae, charms and protections against fae, the courts, faerie hills, etc)

An Encyclopedia of Fairies by: Katharine Briggs

If you want to know anything about the faeries of Ireland and the British isles, you can find it in this book. There’s a lot of fun stories about different fae, too.

Abbey Lubbers, Banshees, & Boggarts by: Katharine Briggs

If you find Briggs’s other book overwhelming, try this one. It’s a lot of the same information but more condensed.

The Lore Podcast by: Aaron Mahnke

This podcast talks about folklore and everything paranormal (from ghosts and clairvoyants to vampires and werewolves). I recommend the entire podcast but here are a few episodes with information about faeries:

Episode 5: "Under Construction”— Folklore about the huldufolk (elves) of Iceland

Episode 11: ”Black Stockings”— Folklore about changelings. I’m going to warn you, this episode is very done but very, very sad

Episode 14: "The Others” — Folklore about “little people” in various cultures, including púcas (one of my favorite fae)

Some YA Faerie Books I have on my TBR:

White Stag by: Kara Barbieri

The Perilous Gard by: Elizabeth Marie Pope

The Folk Keeper by: Franny Billingsley

The Goblin Emperor: Katherine Addison

Glimmerglass by: Jenna Black

Wings by: Aprilynne Pike

Bitter Frost by: Kailin Gow

Tam Lin by: Pamela Dean

Fablehaven by: Brandon Mull

That was a long post, so I thank you for taking the time to read it! Please reblog and add your favorite faerie books (especially if they’re similar to Holly Black’s books)! And feel free to DM me or slip a message in my ask box if you have any questions or want book recs.

Hopefully something on this list will hold us over until Queen of Nothing comes out!

#the cruel prince #the wicked king #tcp #twk #the folk of the air #folk of the air #Darkest part of the forest #modern faerie tale #tithe #ironside #faery #faery books #book recs

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aceprosecuties · 5 years

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How does one write Simon Blackquill? (This is a cry for help because I have no idea how and I'm trying to write a story that has been sitting in my folder for the past 7 months and I want to finish it but how does one write him my God... ;_;)

SO I know I’m still on like…unannounced hiatus as I try andfigure out what I want to do in the face of tumblr’s nsfw ban (which I hate, soI’m wrestling with my desire to not really use tumblr anymore out of protestvs. wanting to stay because I enjoy running this blog for the most part). BUT I saw this and knew I had to answer! :D

OKAY, so it’s hard for me to exactly say what might be bestsimply because him pre 5-5 and post 5-5 can be slightly different, so I willjust go over how I write him and stuff! Anddon’t worry; it took me a while to get his voice down myself, and even now Istill sometimes wonder if I’m writing him alright (but I look back at somethings in the beginning of my AA writing career and I think I’ve been able to getcloser to him than I was)!

Simon is odd because he honorable, snarky, a troll(ish), protective,emotional, scary, and soft all at once. He hasa very specific vision of honor and adheres to that very strictly – this samurai code he follows was his reasoning forwhy he was ready to sacrifice himself for Athena. In court, too, he has a specific set ofstandards and methods that he finds to be legitimate (which he allows) and just ‘tricks’(which he hates). He is very intolerantof things he finds dishonorable – hence why he did everything in his power (andwas successful) to make sure that Apollo was not able to use his perceptionability in court (until he found it a necessary evil to taking down thephantom). To him, this is just a trickand has no legal or scientific basis. Healso does not like the dirty tricks that Nahyuta sometimes plays – he getsinvolved in 6-4 partially because he found Nahyuta using Athena’s hearingability against her to be underhanded.

(cut because holy shit this got long I am sorry I can’t help myself)

His respect for people varies depending on if he finds themhonorable and to be a worthy ally or opponent. In court, he refers to the opposition with the honorific -dono as a wayto show his respect of them as an enemy. He is very poetic (in his own way) when describing…most things, butespecially courtroom battles – they are, to him, akin to actual war, and thewords and arguments people use are weapons and blades. His respect (or lack thereof) can usually beseen in how he addresses people. Thosehe respects get their actual name and an honorific. Those he does not get a nickname atbest. (Example – in 6-4 he starts outcalling Nahyuta ‘Sahdmadhi-dono,’ but once Nahyuta loses his respect, hechanges it to ‘Prosecutor Sad Monk’ on top of just flat out insults.)

THAT BEING SAID his having respect for people does not meanthat he always…treats them that way. Simon is The Gadfly/Troll trope – he likes to provoke people and makefun of them and make them uncomfortable…either because he finds it amusing(most of the time), or because he is trying to get them to figure something out(usually in the form of ‘tough love’ especially with respect to Athena in6-4). In prison he was a prankster andjust reveled in doing things to messwith his fellow inmates. He has an extremely dark sense of humor (gallows-type)due probably needing to have it in his own way in dealing with his prison sentence, and laughs at his own jokeswhile everyone else/most people around him stare awkwardly and feel uncomfortable. He used this in court a lot too; when peoplestill thought him a murderer, he would act like he was committed to violence andwas about to cut them all down and then when everyone was cowering andterrified he’d be like “lol just kidding you’re all pathetic but you shouldhave seen your faces.” He also used hisfrightening reputation and appearance to his advantage in court – he wouldglare and bang on the table and break his shackles as a way to unnerve peopleand gain that sort of psychological advantage. Andwhen he was seriously angry? Well…that was terrifying.

In the English version of the game, Simon is said to be asamurai, but he actually is more akin to a ronin – a masterless samurai. Metis was his master/mentor, and he lost herand so does not hold that same sort of reverence for (almost) anyone, which iswhy he is so powerfully devoted to her and preserving her legacy and honor and savingher daughter. (I say almost because Iwould say that Edgeworth is the closest thing he has to a new ‘master’ in thesense that Edgeworth helped save him and is his boss and is highly respected,etc. So where I think he makes fun ofeveryone else he respects, he does not do the same to Edgeworth, who is more onthe ‘revered’ level akin to Metis (though still less than her). Yourmileage may vary on that though.)

Things that do not interest him get zero/minimal attention. In fact, he will go out of his way to make others do things for him. In this sense, he actually might be thelaziest of the prosecutors – sure he takes his job seriously and will fight inthe courtroom to the best of his ability, but he will also try and get thejudge and the police and the defense to do parts of his job for him. Simply because he doesn’t feel like it, and/orsimply because he can. The easiest example is how he convinces the judgeto do the opening statements in most cases just…because he doesn’t want to. The one he actually does dothe opening statement for is the case that is personal to him and so he takes astrong interest in it.

So, on the outside, Simon is rough. His sense of honor does not mean he is respectfulin the traditional ‘respectful person’ sort of sense and most people who cross his path would probablyconsider him brash and rude.

On the inside, though, and at his core, Simon is extremelyprotective and loyal and emotional. Hisprotectiveness comes out mostly with respect to Athena – he might make fun ofher and tease her relentlessly but the moment someone does something toactually hurt her in any way, he ison the warpath and puts himself in the path between whoever is doing that andher. This is the other reason he gets involved in 6-4; he saw that Athena washurting and panicking and came to help her (while at the same time shaming Nahyuta and the entire courthouse audience). Sure, he did this with his own ‘tough love’type of approach, but he came to her defense without hesitation. So even after he is out of prison, Athena is still a very importantperson to him – probably the most important aside from her mother – and he willdefend her.

Pre 5-5 he has a lot of emotions deep within him – he is sad(canonically, the marks on his face were created from the tears he cried whenhe was in prison that he never wiped away) and angry and fearful. Although he ‘accepts’ his death in theloosest sense of the word, he did not wantto die. It was a sacrifice he wasready to make that went along with his code of honor, but he did not wantdeath. Sometimes I think people forgethow young he actually is – at 28 hewas in prison for seven years and was a day’s away from execution. He looks older because of the stress being inprison put him under and from the secrets he carried, but he is still a youngperson and was ready to sacrifice so many years for his mentor’s daughter.These sorts of sad emotions, though, he was usually very good at keeping hiddenbehind his humor and his ‘twisted samurai’ persona. So I usually use this when I am writing inhis perspective (which is…my usual route when he is around), but I don’t knowif it would be as apparently obvious to others, minus Athena, who knows him bestand can hear his heart’s turmoilwhenever he speaks. I also write that hestill carries a lot of it after 5-5but that is my personal perspective! Hedoes have a lot of relief and is happier after 5-5 and that fear of impendingdeath does not follow him. But to me,that sort of trauma will stay with him. He just, still, does not show it. He is not the type to lean on others. Get them to do his work? Absolutely. But actually lean onthem for emotional help? Not somuch. Even with his sister, he was verystunted in how he expressed his love for her (and vice-versa; neither Blackquillsibling is very good at expressing their emotions).

UH I’m sure I’m missing things but I just realized that thisis already like…1500 words because I just rambled about Simon’s character and Ilove him so much. I DON’T KNOW IF THISWAS HELPFUL because it might just be me rambling, so feel free to send meanother ask or DM or something if you would like more or something morespecific, even!

#ace attorney #simon blackquill #jin yuugami #samurai prosecutor #character analysis #allie does meta #allie answers #I CAN GUSH FOREVER ABOUT HIM I JUST LOVE HIM SO MUCH #I hope this helped aha but if it didn't I can try again >_>#randopandour

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corpus-chorus · 5 years

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A dev’s insight to tumblr’s updates

Alright guys. I’m sorry to make this long-ass discourse post when I’d really much rather just be doing my art reblogs and basking in my warm community, but I feel this needs to happen, because a lot of you may not be aware of what goes into updates like this.

To be clear - I’m not making any comment about the color change itself. It doesn’t actually bother me, seems kind of silly to flip a lid about when there’s plenty of extensions to fix it if you don’t like it, but I get the annoyance of having something familiar change into something that makes you uncomfortable, especially with no warning.

But then I started to see a bunch of rants on how shitty this update is when there were so many bugs that needed to be fixed instead, and I just need to take a moment to address app development in general, because y’all seem fairly misinformed about the whole thing.

So let’s get one thing straight - bug fixing is not easy.

Yeah, that sounds like a copout, doesn’t it?

But let’s talk about how bug fixing works, alright? Because there’s a couple of things we gotta look at when considering changes like this.

How much code is needed to fix the bug? Yeah, this one’s pretty straight forward, right? How many lines of code do the devs have to write to fix whatever’s broken? Except you’re forgetting the time it takes to find the bug in the first place. And this isn’t about popping into one file and looking through the lines until you see what’s broken. Bugs aren’t just typos. Bugs are NOT easy to find. Generally, if I’m working on a bug, and it takes me 4 days to fix, 3 of those days were probably spent just defining exactly where the bug came from and the places it exists. And that’s with me being super familiar with the codebase. If I didn’t already know that the core value displayed on the groupings page was coming from the hciReplacements inspector (out of 30-some inspectors), which is pulling data from the hagi, which is pulling and calculating data from the clip model, of which I know the exact layout, it probably would have taken me double or triple that time. And now, on top of that, what if the bug is an extreme edge case no one thought about when they built the core code? I might have to rewrite the entire functionality of the thing that pulls all that data, and holy hot hell is that gonna take some time.

How much QA effort is required? Contrary to popular belief, no, developers don’t just make bug fixes and immediately push them out to the app. It’s gotta be tested, usually by some sort of QA/QC team. And, fun fact, QA can take longer than the development did. Because the QA team is looking for EVERY POSSIBLE USE CASE of the exact thing you’re working on. Every single possible way a user might interact with that. That takes a skilled worker to think of all of those possible use cases (and spoiler alert, they’re human, so they still fuck up sometimes), and it takes them time to find them all.

But ON TOP of that, you also have a LOT of unexpected consequences to code changes. Maybe you just needed to update to cores count so that it’s the total cores on a node instead of total cores per processor, but you didn’t realize that another part of the code was assuming that value was cores per processor, and congrats, you’ve screwed the values all through the rest of the app.

And that’s just a data example. You can make critical errors if, say, you rename a value, and miss one of the places that value’s used, so now that value doesn’t exist in that specific scenario, and congratulations, you’ve actually caused your app to crash if the user follows a specific series of actions, and oops, looks like that set of actions wasn’t one QA thought of, so now users get to find it instead. You were just trying to fix a little data bug, and you’ve now broken the entire app. Good job.

How old is the codebase? Why is this important, you ask? Well, if you’re not in the industry, you may have never been introduced to the idea of “legacy code”. Legacy code is, to over-simplify, old code. It’s code that’s been around for a while. It’s code that dozens of people have had their hands in and is therefor a bit of a mess, no matter how hard you try to keep it clean, or how well organized your team is. Because maybe Eric built that one file really well to start with, and Suzy made some great additions to it, and Tom just made a few bug fixes, but he names variables a little differently, so Jason didn’t realize that the function he needed already existed when he went to build it a few months down the line, so now there’s two versions of the same thing, one used in one place, one used in another, and when Meredith goes to fix a bug related to it, she doesn’t realize she has to fix it both places, and wow, that is a bit of a mess, isn’t it?

The codebase I’m working in currently is about a year and a half old now, maybe a little more. When our first version was released, our codebase was 51,714 lines of code long. As of today, it is 357,932 lines long. With new features on the horizon, it will continue to grow, and the web of dependencies tangled through the codebase will get bigger and more complex. This is just a fact.

So keep in mind that that’s an app that’s about 1.5 years old. Tumblr was launched in, what, 2007 or something? That’s 11 years. 11 fucking years of coding, of dozens, if not hundreds, of people contributing to the codebase, in their own coding style, with their own knowledge levels. This is like if a team of 100 writers was working on a fic series for 11 years, and they didn’t all get to work together, and not everyone took notes. You’re gonna have plot holes. You’re gonna have inconsistencies. Shit’s gonna be messy.

And then there’s the pinnacle question.

How much do the devs care? How much you wanna bet a lot of the devs on this site started out with a genuine passion for it? How many do you think worked long past the hours they were getting paid for just to make sure they were making something they could be proud of? How excited do you think it used to make them to release new features, and get to see it make people’s lives better?

When you care about a project, you think beyond the exact task you were given. You think about the impact every line of code you write is going to have. on the users. Because you want the users to enjoy the app. You want them to be happy with it. You want all the work you put into it to mean something.

When you care, you make less bugs. When you care, you don’t get lazy and just make temporary fixes. When you care, you put your heart and soul into your work.

How much heart and soul do you think the Tumblr devs want to put into this site at this point? When every single update, every single effort they put in, is met with criticism and hatred? When they’re told that nothing they do is ever good enough? How much do you think the devs care about getting everything perfect and on time and working themselves to tears on this site when they know damn well that the second they release an update, it’s going to be met with nothing but hatred and ignorant people treating them as if their hundred of hours of effort were stupid?

If I was a dev for this site, I’d hate my fucking job.

So let’s review. When you ask for bug fixes, I promise, there is someone on that team very concerned about addressing that bug fix. When you complain that tags are borked, or searching is shit, or whatever you get frustrated with that day, I promise, some dev is already working their tits off trying to find exactly what it’s going to take to fix that for you.

But understand that, that ask? That ask that might seem super simple and straight-forward to you from your comfortable couch? But it might take a team of devs working ungodly hours for months to be able to do. It might carry risks as high as accidentally deleting posts or banning blogs or breaking the entire bloody site. So they wanna spend some time and get that shit right so that you’re not stuck with something even worse than the bug they were fixing.

The people working on these bug fixes are human beings. We seem to remember that about everyone else in the goddamn world, but not the people who work tirelessly to give us the very site that we’re having these conversations on right now.

This update? Yeah, it might seem trivial to you. It might seem like they’re “wasting their time” with “stupid bullshit” when they could be fixing bugs.

But let me make it very clear. They’re trying to fix the bugs. They’re trying to stop the porn bots (and oh, fucking boy, I could make an entire post just about how insanely difficult that is, because some of you people seem to think the devs are fucking GODS or something). And maybe this update is stupid to you, but I can tell you right now, having this update right here is not the reason these things are not going to be fixed tomorrow. This is the frontend team making an aesthetic change - I promise it didn’t stop the backend team from their tireless work to fix the tags.

so tl;dr Fixing Tumblr’s bugs is not some simple, do-it-in-a-month, just-get-more-devs fix. And tearing into this release is doing nothing but reminding the probably very tired dev team that their work means absolutely dick to a large portion of ungrateful fucks on this site.

Complain about bugs. Tell Tumblr about their bugs. Make sure they know. And then sit the fuck down and wait - they’re fucking trying.

#i'm sorry #i know this is so long and obnoxious #please ignore it if you don't care #i just needed to get this shit off my chest #hopefully it's informative to some people #tumblr #tumblr update #tumblr discourse #tumblr blue #tumblr staff #long post #discourse

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cakesunflower · 6 years

Text

Sugar Coated Pain [Boxer!Calum AU] Ch. 3

Chapter 3

“I STILL FEEL bad, leaving you here by yourself,” Noelle worried, willing herself not to chew on her lips so she didn’t eat off the lipstick staining them.

Her seventeen year old sister rolled her eyes in exasperation. “I’m gonna be fine, Elle,” Andrea insisted. “I just found out Amazon Prime has all the seasons of Bones on it so I’m gonna binge watch the crap out of that and order food that I’m gonna eat until I pass out. It’s gonna be a fun night.”

Beverly descended the stairs that led right into the living room the other two were in. “Since when do you have an Amazon Prime account?”

Andrea grinned impishly. “Mom got sick of me begging for it and gave in. Perks of being the paraplegic child.”

Both Beverly and Noelle scoffed and rolled their eyes, used to Andrea using her disability as a way of getting what she wanted, though Andrea didn’t even have to use that as an excuse because they all babied her anyway. Still, Noelle and Beverly couldn’t help but shake their head in amusement as Andrea giggled giddily. She’s been paralyzed for three years now, and at this point she was fully capable of cracking jokes about her being confined to a wheelchair.

It had been a tragic accident, one involving Andrea and their father and a drunk driver, in which Mr. Simon died on impact and the driver was imprisoned for driving under the influence. It was one of the toughest times for Noelle and her family, trying to deal with their dad’s death and helping the youngest of the family adjust to a life in a wheelchair. For the longest time Andrea was angry at everything in the world—for the loss of their dad and for the loss of feeling below her waist—and it wasn’t until a year and a half after the accident where Andrea cracked the first joke in regards of her being a paraplegic.

“Okay, but if you need anything, call either of us, alright?” Noelle told Andrea with a raise of her eyebrows, unplugging her phone from the charger by the couch.

The seventeen year old nodded before waving her sisters off, telling them to leave already. It wasn’t often that the girls left Andrea alone at the house; their mom had long hours at the hospital and while Andrea was fully capable of taking care of herself, they still worried over her. They couldn’t help it; she was their baby sister. They’d been taking care of her long before she was ever paralyzed.

“So what’s Ashton throwing this party for?” Noelle asked once she and Beverly slid into the backseat of the Uber, leaning her back against the door as she faced her sister.

Beverly ran her fingers through her blonde hair to push it back. “Cal won every match he had this week so Ash sometimes throws a little celebration type thing. Obviously no one really knows the real reason for the parties because of what Cal does but, you know, still fun,” she explained with a shrug before grinning happily. “Now that you’re back in town, I finally have someone to go with!”

Noelle smiled wryly, pulling her phone out to scroll through social media. “Joy,” she dryly responded, though she was fine with accompanying Beverly.

Truly, Noelle was never opposed to a night out when she really wanted to go and from what Beverly has told her, Ashton’s parties or get-togethers were always a fun time, so it was time Noelle attended one. Though, the fact that this particular party was for Calum, meaning he would be there, had Noelle’s gut twisting nervously. Obviously, she hasn’t seen him since she met him the first time three nights ago, but Noelle wasn’t going to forget the disgruntled way he looked at her. She could only hope he wouldn’t be irritated by her presence and make her feel embarrassed once more.

If she was someone else, it would be enough for her to reject the invitation, but Calum was too handsome for Noelle to not want to just get a glimpse of him again. Was that desperate? Maybe.

They arrived to Ashton’s apartment in SoHo within fifteen minutes, getting rung in through the front security desk by Ashton and using the elevator to go to the fourth floor. When they walked in through the unlocked door, Noelle couldn’t help but notice how nice Ashton’s apartment was, having never been there before. Large windows and slanted ceilings with lights embedded in them, and sleek wood floors. Ashton was a general manager at a popular gym in Manhattan and he earned a pretty penny, and his residence showed that in the least obnoxious way possible.

There was music playing at an appropriate, non-deafening volume and there were a bunch of people hanging around with drinks in their hands as they talked and mingled. Noelle was relieved to see it wasn’t like a literal house party, many of which she attended during high school and college, and that everyone here seemed much more relaxed yet enjoying their time.

“They’re in the kitchen,” Beverly said, nodding towards the left of the apartment before leading her sister over. Noelle noticed Beverly waving and saying hi to a few people as they walked, already familiar with almost everyone there as they entered the kitchen.

“You’re here!” Came Ashton’s cheery voice and Noelle easily caught sight of the dirty blonde haired man as he moved his way around the center counter that was full of different types of alcoholic bottles, weaving past a few people that were lingering about. He reached them hugging and kissing Beverly with a grin. “Hiya, Noelle, I’m happy you’re here,” he added genuinely, pulling the younger girl for a surprise hug.

Noelle couldn’t help but smile as she returned the hug before pulling away. “I can never say no to free drinks, you know,” she teased.

Ashton giggled before nodding towards the counter. “What’ll you have?”

Before Noelle could answer, Beverly said to him, “Oh, make her a tequila sunrise.” To Noelle, she smiled, “He’s an expert at making that drink. So good.”

Not one to say no to a good drink, Noelle merely nodded and smiled in agreement as Ashton moved towards the counter to make two of them for the girls. As he did so, Beverly leaned forward on the counter opposite of Ashton as she asked, “Where are the others?”

As Ashton picked up the bottle of orange juice, he hummed, “Michael and Luke are around here somewhere and Cal stepped out for a smoke.”

Noelle tilted her head slightly as Beverly quirked a brow. “Isn’t he trying to quit?”

Ashton snorted. “Trying be the key term. We all know Cal’s not one to quit easily.”

“Stop talking shit about me behind my back, mate.”

Noelle felt her back straighten at the deep voice sounding behind her, watching from the corner of her eye as Calum appeared next to Beverly on the side of the counter diagonal of Noelle. Her gaze remained on him, taking in his simple outfit of black jeans and a white shirt with a black leather jacket on top, her thoughts immediately consisting of how damn good he looked. She watched as Calum reached for the stack of cups before pouring in whatever drink was mixed in a glass bottle, her eyes going to the tattoos on his hands, the silver bracelets on each wrist and the chunky rings on his fingers. A man’s hands should not look as good as Calum’s did.

“I’m not talking shit!” Ashton defended with a high pitched laugh before handing Noelle and Beverly their cups. “Just, you know. . . Complimenting you on your determination.”

Calum scoffed, looking away from Ashton to his left as he brought the cups to his lips. “Bullshit.”

It was when he turned his head when Noelle spotted the bruise that was blooming on his cheek, her eyes widening slightly at the sight of it. Dark blue and purple in color yet not too big in size, right on the side of his face near his jaw and she couldn’t help but wince slightly, thinking of the punch that was the cause of it. If almost everyone here didn’t know about Calum’s fighting, what did he tell them if they asked about his bruise?

“Oh, shit, ouch,” Beverly’s eyes widened, leaning forward slightly as she looked at the black haired boy’s face. Apparently she wasn’t hesitant on bringing up the bruise like Noelle was. “That looks like it hurts.”

Calum’s eyes flickered over to her, throat working as he swallowed his drink without complaint and lowered the cup. “Nothin’ I’m not used to,” was his reply, the corner of his lips curling smugly. Then his eyes shifted over slightly, finally landing on Noelle as she took a sip of her admittedly delicious drink. “Noelle, right?”

Honestly, Noelle was surprised that she didn’t choke on her sip as Calum addressed her, taking her by surprise as she swallowed her drink. Tequila always warmed her up easily, despite it being mixed or not, but she was sure the warmth spreading up her neck had more to do with the pair of dark brown eyes staring at her rather than her drink. “Um, yeah,” she stumbled out, mentally cursing herself for sounding unsure. “Hi.”

Calum merely nodded in return, making Noelle bristle slightly—how could a subtle action make her feel so unwelcome, and why did she care so much?—until Beverly spoke up. “Congrats on your wins, Cal,” she smiled, holding her cup out to him as she dramatically added, “You’ve made me proud.”

The tall, curly haired boy snorted, lifting his eyebrows at her as he responded, “It’s why I do it.”

♔♔♔♔♔

Calum raised unimpressed eyebrows as he stared at his two best friends, who were singing a Queen song terribly and totally off-key, as he sat on Ashton’s couch with his legs spread and a red cup in his hand. Though they weren’t singing all too well, Ashton and Luke were definitely entertaining everyone here with their rendition of We Are The Champions. Calum knew getting Ashton that karaoke machine for Christmas would be a bad idea.

As Luke and Ashton started the second verse, an arm wrapped around the other as Ashton held the mic in his right hand and Luke held his cup in his left, Calum couldn’t help but let out a deep chuckle. Everyone around was laughing and recording the two of them, and Calum shook his head in amusement as Ashton and Luke swayed while singing. The party was a few hours in and his friends were a few drinks in, and Calum was surprised either one of them was staying upright.

His gaze flickered around the room before ultimately landing on a face he’s seen twice now. Noelle stood leaning against the wall that separated the kitchen and living room, a bottle of beer in hand after switching it from the liquor and a wide grin on her face that showed off dimples Calum wasn’t aware she had, as her eyes remained on Ashton and Luke. Just like everyone else, she was wildly entertained by the show the two idiots were putting on, her mouth forming soundless words whenever she spoke to Beverly.

Calum’s eyes trailed up her figure, taking in the exposure of her legs due to the blue shorts she wore and the way her pale yellow, form fitting tank top hugged her tightly. He attempted to ignore the tightening in his jeans at the sight of her slender neck, wondering what it’d be like to have his hand wrapped around it and lips pressed against the skin. Calum wasn’t afraid to admit he had similar thoughts the moment he saw her after stepping off the ring, wondering who the hell she was and what she was doing at his match, but he wasn’t going to voice his desires about Noelle after just meeting her. Especially not to Beverly or Ashton.

“That was for my man Calum Hood!” Ashton’s voice rang through the house thanks to the karaoke machine speakers, drawing the Australian’s attention back to his friends who had apparently finished the song already and everyone broke out into cheers. Calum’s eyebrows shot up once more in amusement as Ashton gestured to him with one hand and pressed his other to his chest. “The champion of my heart.”

Despite himself, Calum couldn’t help but let out a laugh at Ashton’s words, shaking his head as he lifted his cup to his two laughing friends in cheers, shaking his head before taking a sip of the hunch punch. “You’re ridiculous, mate,” Calum announced after swallowing his drink. Still, he found the gesture nice.

About an hour or so later, after Calum finished sipping at his first cup of mixed drink and was now nursing another one, he made his way towards the bathroom in the hallway. He may have taken small sips of his drinks as an attempt to uselessly stall the effect of the alcohol he was consuming, but he still had to really fucking pee.

Which was frustrating because the bathroom door was locked. “For fuck’s sake,” Calum cursed under his breath, wishing that Ashton had more than one bathroom in his place. Raising his free hand, Calum rapped sharply and impatiently on the door with his knuckles. “Others have to use the bathroom, too!”

Okay, so he may be slightly tipsy and raised his voice a bit louder than necessary, garnering the attention of the few people lingering in the hallway, though he paid them no mind. He was too focused on making sure he didn’t piss his damn pants right there. Calum let out a groan when no one on the other side responded, clenching his jaw and leaning his forehead against the wooden door, eyes shut in exasperation.

But then the door suddenly swung open, and Calum lost all sense of his fighting agility as he stumbled forward at the lack of support, eyes shooting wide open. His free hand shot out to grasp the door frame, but not before the contents of his full cup sloshed and a good chunk of his beverage spilled out.

A startled gasp sounded in front of him, and Calum looked up in surprise to see Noelle standing in the bathroom, her hazel eyes widened as she remained frozen. For a brief moment, he wondered if she looked so startled because he was standing there, but then his eyes trailed down and caught sight of her pale top and blue shorts darkened by the reddish-purple drink he had been consuming.

“Oh, my God,” Noelle breathed out, stunned at the sudden cold wetness on her front. She looked down, taking in the drink that had spilled on her right below her collarbone, effectively wetting her skin and staining her light colored clothes. It was wet and sticky.

Calum, too, was staring at what he accidentally caused, gaze lingering on the area right above her breasts that was glistening with the drink, forcing himself to break his stare when he realized who those ridiculously nice pair of breasts belong to. “Give a guy a warning next time, will you?” he practically snapped, immediately defaulting to his usual cold demeanor.

Noelle’s head snapped up, eyebrows lifting in surprise as her mouth dropped open with a scoff. Sure, she was a bit shaken at the fact that it was Calum who spilled his drink on her, but why was he the one with the attitude in this situation? “Are you kidding?” she let out a short disbelieving laugh. “You’re the one who spilled his drink on me!”

Calum dropped his hand from the door frame, straightening to stand at his full height and fighting the smug smirk that threatened to grow when he noticed Noelle’s throat work nervously as her gaze flickered up to maintain eye contact. “You’re the one who opened the damn door out of nowhere.”

Was he serious? “Because you were knocking and yelling on the other side!” Noelle countered, bringing her fingers to the front of her tank to pull the tight material away from her skin. She let out a small groan—her clothes were totally going to be stained now. A glare furrowed her brows as she looked up at Calum, completely forgetting that this guy definitely intimidated her as she demanded, “What were you even doing, leaning against the door like that? This is your fault.”

He seriously didn’t have time for this. Sure, Calum felt kind of bad for spilling his drink on Noelle, but that didn’t come anywhere near as the urgency he felt for needing to use the damn bathroom. And, yeah, he knew it was his fault for leaning against the door and losing his balance but apologizing wasn’t in Calum’s nature, and he wasn’t about to start now.

Grunting, Calum reached forward and placed his half empty cup on the sink right next to Noelle before shrugging off the leather jacket he wore. It was his favorite jacket, with two white stripes running down the length of the sleeves, but he begrudgingly put that aside as he held it out to Noelle, who blinked at the piece of apparel in confusion. Impatiently, Calum shook it and said through gritted teeth, “Just wear it over your clothes for now and get out of the damn bathroom, for shit’s sake. I have to piss.”

Immediately Noelle’s face scrunched up in mild disgust but when she took in the irritated expression Calum wore, mixed with the bruise on his cheek, she clamped her mouth shut and took the offered jacket with a somewhat shaky hand. He was lending her his jacket?

When she took it, Calum stepped aside and waved his hand, raising his eyebrows as he silently gestured for her to get the hell out. Noelle swallowed inaudibly before shuffling through the narrow doorway, catching a whiff of whatever cologne Calum wore over the pungent stench of the alcohol she was wearing, and wincing slightly when the door slammed shut behind her.

Calum let out a relieving sigh once he flushed and zipped up his pants, washing his hands as he stared at himself in the mirror. He turned his head to the left, hands still running under the cold water, as he assessed the bruise on his cheek. It still hurt when his facial muscles moved a certain way, and every time Calum felt that sting of pain he also felt a surge of anger for letting Underwood get that hit in in the first place. It was a slip on Calum’s part, lost in a thinking strategy during the fight a second too long and not seeing Underwood’s left hook coming for him, but managing to return the favor by knocking him the fuck out. It was a lucky shot on Underwood’s part and Calum was determined to not let it happen again.

Grunting, Calum grabbed his drink and drained the rest of it in the sink before dropping the cup in the trash before shutting off the faucet and drying his hands. When he left the bathroom, he realized that Noelle wasn’t in the hallway anymore and made his way back to the living room. And when he did, Calum couldn’t help the way he froze when his eyes somehow, almost immediately, landed on Noelle.

She was standing by the window talking to Michael and their friend Dominique, and Calum’s adam’s apple bobbed in his throat at the sight of her wearing his jacket. Her short and slimmer figure had the jacket practically enveloping her, the sleeves too long and shoulders hanging off hers. But what really had Calum taking in a sharp breath was the fact that the jacket was so long on Noelle that it made it seem like, zipped up, it was all she was wearing. Her legs looked even more appealing than they already did. The jacket was like a fucking dress Calum had the sudden urge to rip right off of her.

She should not be looking as good as she does in his jacket.

Calum huffed. He shouldn’t have thrown away his drink.

tags: @aphroditebeautyshit @modelukes @cartiercalum @candidcalum @tothemoonmikey @perfectlycake @cakestan @lukesback @polarizehood @luke2k18 @vaporlewk @biggestslutforcalum @kinkycorbyn @nostalgia-luke @captain-what-is-going-on @hoodstations @calumamore

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modesty-blaise · 5 years

Note

Since I'm curious, what caused you to become very possessive of your gifs? Not out of rudeness but curious, since no matter what you do a lot of them show up in the gif function on Tumblr which automatically credits you at the bottom of the gif.

Hey. Tbh, at first I didn’t wanna bother with yet another anon but since I see no ill intent behind this, I decided to go and answer it. Unfortunately, half-way through I realised my reply is turning into incredibly long semi-bitter rant and expands well beyond calling out just one person in Psychonauts fandom (and yes, this is related to Psychonauts fandom – you do know that these anons are not really that anonymous, right?) so… buckle up! All that beneath “read more”.

I’ve been on this hellsite for like…7-8 years? Maybe more? Can’t really tell cause I moved blogs and my old blog now consists of only 4 posts I’ve made close to leaving so I honestly have no idea how much time I’ve spend here before moving. Anyway, during those few years I’ve spent on my first blog I’ve met a lot of creative gifmakers who enjoyed sharing their love for fandoms they were in. I’d like to point out that this was waaaaay before tumblr created that insert-gif option so, back in the day, the only way to add gifs to your post was to: 1. make them yourself 2. take them from someone else. And a lot of people were taking them from someone else which resulted in many gifmakers giving up on making gifs and leaving fandoms and/or even leaving tumblr – and I’ve had many of my friends give up on what they love and have their games/shows/movies/whatnot ruined for them cause people would not stop stealing from them. And many of my friends eventually left tumblr cause they couldn’t deal with it anymore.

Tumblr adding insert-gif option, in my opinion, honestly, just made it worse for gifmakers. Cause now people had the opportunity to use gifs for their posts, with or without creators’ permission/knowledge, but it was alright and it was perfectly fine cause creators were credited. There’s their name at the bottom. It’s alright. Like… it doesn’t matter if they’re actually okay with people using something they’ve put hours into making or if they’re not – tumblr gives them credit so they SHOULD be okay with it. Simple as that.

Well, we’re all different and some people are not okay with that. I’m not okay with that. It took me weeks to figure out how to use photoshop correctly. Took me countless hours of looking through different tutorials and basically trial-and-error-ing my way through the process. Whenever I make gifs, it takes me hours to record videos and then hours trying to achieve that 3mb limit on gifs (thank lord these days we’re beyond 1mb limit). After all that effort I put into creating gifs for games that I love and enjoy, someone is going to make 2 clicks and have that same gif added to their post, without even asking. So how is that okay?

Back to your question. Yes, “no matter what you do a lot of them show up in the gif function on Tumblr”, that is true and that is something I was aware of when I saw you-know-who announcing they would be starting 30 days Psychonauts challenge. So, hating to see my gifs used against my will, and not wanting to start any unnecessary drama and threaten people in advance with reporting them if they do use them, I’ve made my blog as private as I could. It was only accessible through the dashboard, it was not showing in ANY search engines inside and outside tumblr, and my gifs were impossible to find through insert-gif function – I’ve made sure. I did all that cause I just knew that during those 30 days, someone would use my gifs and I would get mad and I desperately wanted to avoid that (hence going extreme). And you know what happened? You know what creator of this challenge (who prevously already reposted my gifs) did? *drums* They used my shit anyway. :3 They just uploaded it from their computer, where they’ve saved it earlier.

And like… a lot of people see pretty pic and decide to save it - I mean, we all do that. Heck, even I have a folder full of shit I saw online and liked it – but i’m not uploading it online cause I haven’t made it. It’s not mine to share.

But some people are not like that.

Some people see fanart of something they like and they want to share their opinion on it – and instead of making their own post, maybe drawing the fanart themselves, they decide to use someone else’s art for their post. Do they know who made it? Do they have creator’s permission to share it? If the answer is NO, then they should be a decent human being and not do that to creators. Oh, they shared it anyway but now people in fandom are calling them out BUT this actually happened on accident? They know who the creator is but, somehow, they accidentally forgot to credit them? OK, well, it’s possible, shit happens, but they better make sure it doesn’t happen again.

Then sometime later these same people decide they want to make a post appreciating their fav character and they want to include pics cause duh, you can’t have character appreciation post without pics, right? Now they have several options: they can get their own screenshots, make their own gifs, maybe draw something… or they can just take someone else’s creation. Do they know who made it? Well there’s my fuckin name on it, and since they’ve stretched it from 245 to 500px, it’s really hard to miss, plus it’s not like there are that many people making Psychonauts gifs. Do they have permission to share it? Hmmm, nope, didn’t ask me. Is this also an accident? Could be. I mean, I’ve seen stranger things happen, so accidentally forgetting to credit content creators twice… kinda suspicious but still possible. Who am I to say?

Now if these people then decide to make a post appreciating their fav ship and they want to add a cute pic of the loving couple – yup, you guessed it! They can either create something or take something. Again: they know who did? They asked for permission? Got the permission? No?!?! But they posted it anyway?!?! :o Could it really be, that after being called out publicly, after being told that reposting is bad (something that’s very easy to understand), after even having tumblr staff intervene and remove stolen shit from their blog, after all that - could it really still be an accident?

Nah, man.

They just don’t give a shit.

Cause if they did, they’d stop with that crap first time they were called out.

(and if you think Psychonauts fandom is their only fandom and that they’re not doing this crap in other fandoms too - hoooo, boy, do I have some bad news for you! Do you know how many stolen and butchered HP fanart is on their blog? Hobbit stuff? They seem to be one of the most accident-prone users on tumblr. And honestly - it’s a real miracle their blog’s not been terminated.)

Back to what I was talking about - I’m not okay with people using my gifs and I’ve made it very clear. I literally do not give a shit if I’m credited or not, I’ve made it very clear that I don’t want my gifs used without my permission. If you like them and want them on your blog, there’s a fuckin reblog button. It’s sole purpose is to allow you to share other people’s creations. Or shitposts, cause lord knows we all love those.

So that’s why when someone spends hours going through my Psychonauts tag and goes as far as to send me “I love your gifs” anonymous message, but the very next day makes stim moodboard post including one of my gifs, now cut and resized to fit 3x3 format they’re going with, I get mad. And that’s why when someone uses one of my gifs to promote their RP blog, butchering it to fit their aesthetics, and later when confronted going as far as blaming their good friend on it cause god! they’ve had no idea it wasn’t theirs, I get mad. (makes you wonder though: if they friend has such skills, why not making them gifs themselves?)

Like…. I’ve had my gifs stolen plenty of times. I’ve had them stolen for roleplaying, for headers, for imagines, just for notes… I’ve had them stolen by people claiming to run official fan sites (that’s a real wild story but I won’t get into that now)… I’ve seen them on pinterest, weheartit, FB, all those random gif sites… and I’ve seen EVERY. POSSIBLE. EXCUSE. ranging from: “well i found it on google so why should i credit you” “lol dunno who made this but its pretty so im posting it” “ive had it on my computer for years so i don’t remember where i got it from” “i dont know how to make gifs so im using weheartit as a source” “credit to whoever made this” (that’s my fav) to “its just a gif so who gives a shit” (it’s not – it’s hours of creator’s time and lots of love that you’re now shitting on so thanks) and “i have an /illness/ and getting notes makes me feel better so dont u dare blame me for stealing” (I don’t remember exact excuse but it was something along those lines and like… how do you even respond to something that without looking like an asshole?).

And sometimes it really is just an accident. Sometimes people really do forget to credit you and/or ask you for permission. And I’ve had my fair share of those accidents. People in Psychonauts fandom have been using my gifs for various crap but, when approached, they’ve removed it and apologised. And it’s something I really appreciate. (if they actually bother reading this and they recognise themselves: i’m really grateful and thank you for not being an ass)

But you know what I don’t appreciate? People making a call out posts about me, asking about my gifs when they know very well they’re the main reasons why I’m not making those gifs anymore, at the same time failing to address any of the issues I have with them and instead rather explaining to others what happened BUT explaining only the parts that make me look like a villain cause how I even dare be mad about them stealing? How I even dare call them out on it? That is so ridiculous and criminal of me, and it’s so so sooooo bad that they need to call me out. I deserve to be called out by the very same person who’s been stealing my shit.

And their explanation is…well… it’s something.

They were sympathetic and polite? When did this happen? Did I completely missed that part? Please someone fuckin enlighten me with such post/message where they expressed their sympathy and politeness and I’ll apologise right this second.

I told them to “literally fuck off”? Yeah, that did happen, I admit that. Did they bother explaining why I told them to fuck off in the first place? Did they say they were caught stealing from me and had tumblr stuff remove my shit from their blog? Did they get into details of how they demanded the proof of my so very wild and obviously false claims but then when I showed it, they just deleted that “how dare u call me out cause I would never do such thing” post? No, they didn’t and geee, I really wonder why.

Instead, what did they choose to address? Out of all the things I’ve said. Hm? What did they choose? Me telling them to fuck off. Me dropping the F-bomb on them, rudely rejecting their obvious kindness and politeness. Nothing else.

Back to what I was talking about before I got derailed again: no, I’m not mad cause this person used my gifs without crediting me. I mean – I am, but that’s not my main issue with them (and they know it). My main issue is that this is someone who will continuously lie and steal and still deny any of it, even when there’s plenty of proof (and you can always count on me to show up with proof tbh), and then go as far as to publicly ask about my gifs and try to call me out. Like me getting mad that something I’ve put hours of work into, and something I’ve made cause I love the game and I want to share my love and appreciation for it, is now being shared against my will and my knowledge - like me getting mad over something like that is so unreasonable that they need to make an entire post about it while pretending they have absolutely no idea why I’m even mad and why we have issues.

And I have every fucking right to be mad. 3 times is not an accident. 2 times to the same person is not an accident. They know it. But yeah, playing stupid is their defense so it’s not like I expected them to actually address their actions this time either.

And you know what? Just because I swear a lot doesn’t mean I’m wrong. Doesn’t mean there’s no solid ground for my claims. People on tumblr have always been and always will be stealing shit. Sometimes they will credit you, often they will not, and that’s just how it is, doesn’t matter if you’re okay with it or not. But that doesn’t mean I’m just gonna sit quiet and accept someone’s shitty behaviour. Especially when it’s directed at me.

TLDR: giving credit =/= having permission

but my previous posts leading to this ask were not about that

you knew that already

#psychonauts #this is a lot longer than i expected #meh #also: all those posts are now under one tag #so you don't have to check my blog 4 times per day #that hobbit reposter #my psychonauts stuff

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