#Sorry to disappoint anyone who might be interested in my stuff but expects more activeness. (^ ^;;;o)

[jinglejails]

omg are u active again??

I'm active, but only in the sense that I'm not dead- lol. I'm an infrequent poster n' don't actively use or browse social media; but I crawl out of my cave like a malnourished sloth every once in a while to tack an ornament onto my Charlie Brown Christmas-like tree. Nothin' impressive nor frequent enough to be particularly noticeable, but if anyone enjoys whatever decoration I put up, it means a lot to me, n' every note n' kind comment is like a gift left under my tree (n' that includes your ask—thanks for askin'! -`(^ ^ o)).

Anyway, I'll post somethin' rather soon. Can't say when I'll post after that, but if ya' stick around, I hope you like whatever comes your way! If not—whoopsie-daisy!

Thanks again, n' I hope you have a wonderful day!

[buckyownsmylife]

Diving Bell - Andy Barber smut

The one where Andy has been a patient librarian, but now that you’ve accepted his advances...

Warnings: smut, breeding kink, dubcon, (andy pushes the relationship into boundaries that weren’t previously consented), age gap, (reader is over eighteen and in college), semi-public sex, somewhat of an exhibitionism kink, oral (f), andy’s definitely dark but reader is generally into it, she just doesn’t know what “it” will be, dirty talk

Word count: 3k<

A/N:  this is for my own birthday celebration challenge! Like I explained here, I’m going to try to fill every single AU I listed with the characters I picked for the challenge, and since the deadline if May 27, these fics will be posted randomly, as I finish them, instead of on Thursdays, which are my usual one-shot posting days. Hope you guys like it!

Reader’s P.O.V.

My face burned and I wondered how I hadn’t spontaneously combusted from how hot I felt under the hot new librarian’s gaze. Sure, the girls had warned me about it - I’d hear so much about him, in fact, that I was sure I’d be disappointed when I actually did manage to meet him.

Boy, was I wrong.

He was the definition of daddy, luscious beard and hair just begging to be pulled and I could feel the burn his jaw would leave behind if he deposited kisses down my neck - or better yet, on the insides of my thighs - but he was at least twenty years older than me.

There was absolutely no way I’d ever catch his attention. Not when so many girls had tried to get in his pants - girls hotter than me - and had failed miserably, as I’d been told time and time again from the very same seductresses.

So I saw absolutely no point in trying. Although, one could very well admire, right? Also, fantasize couldn’t do any harm, not even to my extremely vulnerable pride. It’s not like I could control it, anyway.

But another thing I couldn’t control was his effect on me. The way my whole body warmed up when I felt his eyes on it, how I couldn’t immediately focus on his words whenever he addressed me.  I even stopped coming to the library to study because 1) I couldn’t concentrate with him around and 2) his presence had brought a whole new wave of first-time library users, and seeing as their interests weren’t on the actual books, they tended to be extremely loud.

Once essays started to get assigned though, there wasn’t much I could do. I had to get back to the library, and so I chose to go when it was already dark, hoping he wouldn’t pick up that shift, and knowing most frat girls would be at an impromptu Thursday-night party to celebrate (once again) the start of classes.

I didn’t understand why they couldn’t just throw a party for the sake of partying. Did they have to reuse the same excuse, over and over again? It’s not like anyone cared. I certainly didn’t, and the people who went for the free beer didn’t care about anything just as long as the alcohol kept flowing.

“What are you doing here?” His voice startled me, almost making me drop the pile of books I’d been gathering. Even though there was no way I’d confuse him with someone else, I still looked over my shoulder to make sure it was really him, that he was actually there, staring at me with those caring warm brown eyes.

“S-should I be anywhere else?” I tried to sass, even if my own voice gave me away. He chuckled though, extending a hand to help me with the load in my arms, and although I hesitated for a second, I ended up accepting his help. It was his job, after all. This couldn’t really be considered flirting, right?

“I don’t know. I’ve heard about this party tonight, figured you’d be there.” Frowning, I finally turned to stare at him directly in the eyes, almost immediately regretting my decision. Damn, he looked good.

“How do you know about the party?” I asked, and his lips immediately curled up, trying to contain a smile from stretching over his face.

“Some girls may or may not have invited me to meet them there.” Clicking my tongue, I decided to look back at the bookshelf, instead of paying him any more attention.

“Why? Are you jealous?” The question felt too much like something a fuckboy my age might ask me at a party, not a forty-year-old man who worked a full-time job. When I turned to look at him again, eyebrows raised high, he chuckled.

“Sorry, that’s not usually my style… I’m just at a loss of ways to get you to notice me, that’s all.” Well, now I was beyond shocked.

“Why do you want me to notice you?” I asked, utterly confused, but Andy just laughed, shaking his head at me like he was profoundly amused by my ways.

“I always notice when you’re around. Even worse, I always notice when you aren’t.” And then, as he looked around like he wanted to make sure other people wouldn’t hear him, he leaned over me and confessed, “It gets pretty lonely here without you.”

The accompanying wink almost gave me a heart attack. Stuttering out something even though I didn’t know what to say, I moved away from the bookshelf in search of the nearest table, finding it thankfully empty.

When I turned around to look for him again, he was right by my side.

“I don’t get it,” I managed to admit once my arms were book-free. “We’ve talked like twice. You helped me find books, I acted like a fool. You weren’t supposed to flirt with me, why aren’t you interested in the college girls who actually hit on you?”

He raised his eyebrows before frowning, hands deep in his pockets as he stared down at me in all of his height. “Have you ever considered… that I just don’t want them?”

The insinuation stirred something deep inside of me, leaving me flushed and overall a mess. Stumbling out an apology, I gathered my stuff and left as quickly as possible, determined to process what had happened that evening by myself, so it could actually feel real and I could decide what to do from then on.

But something changed ever since that evening. I stopped trying to run away from him and started to actively go to the library in the times I knew he was there, at first still avoiding him and looking away every time he caught me staring, silently grateful that he didn’t try to force me to open up to him.

His patience was rewarded when in a few weeks, I began to talk to him again. Asking him for book recommendations, never anything other than what was strictly related to his job, but the way his eyes glinted knowingly at me warned me that he did understand where my mind was at.

It didn’t take long for him to start flirting with me, and from then on, I slowly accepted his advances and even began to eagerly wait for them.

I smiled widely when I heard his low whistle, admiring the way he looked in that comfortable sweater as he put away the books he was holding to fully give me all of his attention.

“Well, don’t you look incredible?” He asked as I twirled so he could fully see the dress I’d put on just for him. “Did you dress up for me, pretty girl? Because I like to think that you did.”

Biting my lower lip, I tried to gather the courage I’d been trying to build up all week, before finally nodding and admitting, “Yes, I did.” From the stupefied look on his face, it didn’t seem like he was expecting that. Even worse, I wasn’t expecting the outcome of my little attempt to flirt back.

“I’m going to kiss you now.” And that was all the warning I got before his hands cradled my face and he took my mouth in his, kissing me breathless, leaving me aching and soaked when he finally released me.

I was panting by the time he let go of my lips, and he smiled softly at me as he brushed over my cheekbones, saying, “You know… if you ever need anything… You know I’m always here to help.”

Andy’s P.O.V.

“So, what brings you here tonight?” My own smile denounced just how much of her intentions I already knew, from how well I knew her. Her late-night visits to the library had become more and more frequent, and I couldn’t say that I hated it.

“I don’t know,” she feigned nonchalance, shrugging while perusing the bookshelves before looking back at me from over her shoulder. “The hot new librarian in charge of the night shift has told me he was always available to help me with anything I needed, and I’ve been needing a distraction.”

My chuckle was low, in order not to interrupt the few students still trying to finish whatever assignment they were working on, but she heard it. I watched as she shivered at the sound of my voice, prompting me to lick my lips at the powerful reaction I could so easily elicit from her.

“You didn’t use to be so blunt,” I teased, remembering how she used to come in here looking for me, only to run away at the last second. It was adorable. Ever since I started working at this university, it wasn’t unusual for college girls to come in groups and watch me from a distance, their giggles whenever I glanced at them unmistakable in the almost completely silent environment. Eventually, one or two would always break away from the group and try to flirt while their friends became a captive audience, but I was quick to shut them down.

They weren’t the one I wanted. She was standing in front of me now, pretending to be interested in a random book, biting her lower lip to keep a smile from spreading over her face. “Do you miss it?”

There was something undeniably attractive by her shyness back then, her inability to ask me for information or even sustain my gaze, but now that I knew what it was like to have her meet my eyes, now that I’d had the luxury of hearing her speak, of getting to know the intricacies of her mind, how could I miss what was, back then, a stranger?

“Not at all.” Her laughter, even subdued because of the place we were in, was enough to have my stomach doing backflips. I had to smile, instinctively getting closer to her, just like a moth, drawn to a flame. 

“I want to do dirty, dirty things to you,” I admitted, one hand on the back of her head as I pressed her against the bookshelf, my lips just over her ear as my beard undoubtedly tickled her neck. “Can’t very well protect my soul if I’m still thinking about you as an innocent little thing, now can I?”

Her eyes dropped down to my lips before meeting mine again, and just like that, I had all the authorization I needed to connect our lips and kiss her breathless. Humming in delight against her quiet neediness, her eagerness to open her lips, welcome my tongue with hers, I blindly moved us further towards the back of the library, relaxed in the knowledge that amongst taxidermia books no one would come to check on us.

Not that I cared all that much if they did.

“Hm… Want me, sweetheart?” I pressed, needing to hear her say it, taking sick pleasure in knowing this came from her, this was her own desire. She almost didn’t answer me, eyelids heavily pressing her eyes closed when our mouths parted, but in the absence of my touch on her, she jolted.

“Yeah, I do! I do, I do…” She insisted, pressing herself against me, feeling just how badly I wanted her too. It made her gasp, witnessing how hard she had made me - she didn’t know it yet, but it’d been this way ever since the first day.

“Tell me if you want me to stop,” I whispered, just to see the way goosebumps took over her flesh while I got rid of her underwear, moving us towards an empty table where I could lay her out to take.

“No, I don’t want you to stop,” she moaned when she saw me leaning over to kiss between her legs, eyes still connected to hers until she closed them to throw her head back, overtaken by the sensation of my warm tongue slipping between her folds. It was better that way, she wouldn’t see the dangerous smirk that denounced that she would come to regret her words before I was done with her.

She tasted just as sweet as I always imagined her to. So wet already, it was clear she was desperate for me. The cock straining against my pants reminded me I couldn’t be too cocky about it - I wanted her just as badly.

“C’mon, honey…” I teased, dipping my tongue in her hole as my thumb frantically rubbed her tiny clit. “Give me more, I want more.” I needed her to cum before I could shove my cock into her. It was important.

The sudden tension of her thighs denounced the arrival of her orgasm, and where usually I’d love nothing more than to keep licking her, delighting myself with her taste and overstimulating her sweet body until she was crying, there was only so much I could take tonight.

“There you go,” I complimented when she easily succumbed to my directions, having turned her around and laid her with her stomach on the table, legs dangling off of it. “Want to feel me now, pretty girl? Want me to fill you now?”

Her answer was a whine as her hips searched for mine. She was offering herself to me, the innocent little thing. Didn’t know I’d take her regardless of it.

I had the instinct of slapping my hand over her mouth as I penetrated her, and so her moan came out muffled. I could still understand a breathless, “so good…” being uttered against my palm, and it only made me bite down on my lip harder, so my own sounds wouldn’t reverberate across the silent library.

It was a twisted kind of pleasure to hold her arms back as I fucked her roughly but as silently as possible, trying not to make the table squeak so it wouldn’t draw attention to us. Even though I didn’t particularly care if someone did find us - I wouldn’t stop fucking her if God himself tried to intervene -  I’d prefer to reach my goal without unwanted interferances.

So I was glad she didn’t seem to mind the fact that anyone could easily look our way and see us fucking. Had I really tempted her that much, that she would let me do whatever I wanted to her body, just as long as I fucked her?

Guess I was about to find out.

“Do you know how many times I masturbated in the back room, thinking about this sweet pussy?” I asked, voice raspy with desire as I kept jackhammering her as quietly as possible, but probably failing to do so in the midst of my arousal. “To think I finally have it now, wrapped around my dick…” My voice faltered as I realized all of my dreams were about to come true, right at that moment.

“Can’t wait to fuck my cum back into you, sweetheart. I’m gonna keep you so full from now on.” I felt her body tense underneath my fingers as she processed my words, but it was too late for her now. My hand still over her mouth, I stopped her from screaming or fighting me in any way.

“Just relax, honey. Doesn’t it feel so good?” I mocked, fucking her harder and harder as my control slipped from me. “It feels good for me, too. So now you’ll have to take it.”

Reaching around for her clit, I started rubbing it in quick little motions, desperate to feel her cunt clenching around me once more, milking my cum.

“C’mon, pretty girl. Cum again for me. Let me keep making you feel good as you do the same for me.” Her orgasm had her legs raising between mine, right when I started to spill inside of her, my eyes rolling to the back of my head. Once I was sure she wouldn’t scream, I took my hand away and pushed her back against the desk, massaging her ass eagerly, hoping it would take.

“You’ll look so good all round with my child.” Once I pulled my cock from her, I made sure to adjust her underwear so it would stop my cum from flowing, massaging the damp tissue with a smug expression.

She managed to turn around in my embrace, blinking confusedly, mouth opening and closing as if she couldn’t quite figure out what she wanted to say, and I cooed at her adorableness.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ll take good care of you and the little one.” I rubbed my hand over where she would soon grow, licking my lips at the mental image of her pregnant. God, why did that make me so hard?

“You can trust me,” I assured her, pulling her closer to I could kiss her forehead, before adjusting her body so it rested on mine. I knew there were tears rolling down her cheeks, but it was just from her coming down from the adrenaline high. She wanted this. She just needed to be able to think clearly to see just how perfect this would be. “We’ll be so happy together.”

[electracraft]

I've been seeing those george neg tweets about how he hasn't tweeted about pride month or juneteenth (despite saying happy juneteenth on stream) but using those as an example to drive the point that he basically gets away with not saying much at all and saying how if it were dream he would be receiving backlash but george gets away with not doing much.

And its like for a first, i understand how people might be disappointed but at the same time many other CC's haven't spoken about pride or juneteenth and its fine....? Like if your CC isn't an activist...they aren't an activist. That's not to say your CC doesn't support these events they just don't feel the need to tweet about it on their platform despite speaking about it in their streams. And comparing how George stays silent to Dream and arguing how dream would get backlash is odd, dream is more outspoken on twitter and whatever he'd say good or bad will inevitably give him backlash because anti's exist, also him not tweeting about juneteenth i suppose would be different since its an american holiday supporting black americans. George or any CC from the UK for that matter; Jack, Wilbur, Tommy, Tubbo, Smajor, Ponk etc etc haven't tweeted about juneteenth because in the UK there's a different date to commerate the end of slavery.

Like george not saying anything isnt inherently bad, it doesn't harm anyone, i can see how people are disappointed about it but saying stuff like 'why cant he do it when his bestfriends tweeted about it?' Or 'if dream did that he would get hate' is the wrong way to ask him to show his support, and also ignores the fact that again, Juneteeth is not a thing in the UK.

i would like to preface this by saying that i'm white and non-american, so i'm definitely not the person that should speak on this. i am going to report my humble opinion here because you asked me, but take my words for what are worth (basically nothing)

if i'm being honest i never understood this entitlement to bare-minimum "activism". if my favorite content creator makes a tweet wishing everyone an happy pride month i'm happy about it and i appreciate that they're trying to cultivate a safe space for me in their audicence. if they don't make a tweet about pride, i just don't care? like i wouldn't even notice that cishet man number 34 hasn't tweeted anything if it wasn't for the people calling that out.

overall, while i get where they're coming from, in wanting popular content creators to use their platforms as best as they can, you can't coerce them. you are allowed to make a judgement on them for this, you can say "i would rather support content creators that are not afraid of supporting me and possiby alienating a part of their audience to show what they believe in", but wasting your energy in poking a probably uneducated content creator that will likely only tweet "happy pride month :)" really seems fruitless to me.

it's not your job to educate them. i'm only here to watch them play minecraft, i don't care about keeping track of their online presence and nitpicking everything they do or don't do. I used to be a bit like this i think, and I still personally don't appreciate that george is so careful in being neutral (though this doesn't refer to the pride month tweet specifically), but it doesn't matter. i can be critical of the content i consume while understanding how relevant and constructive my criticism would be in a specific situation. if i'm interested in online activism, i will uplift the voices of actual actvists, people who know what they're doing and advocate for an actual change. i won’t overshadow the voices that should be leaders of this moment to call out a minecraft youtuber and get a few thousand likes. 

even if you get george to tweet "happy pride month, love is love" what have you achieved? is it even worth all this? is it even worth anything to get an happy pride month if you had to chase him and threaten twitter cancellation for this? like at this point if he came and said "i'm sorry i haven't tweeted anything before, happy pride month" i would count it as not tweeting anything, it would be just pure performative actions to get twitter to calm down. sorry i don’t need to get my validation as a queer person from georgenotfound acknowledging my existence.

keeping track of who has tweeted and who hasn’t is performative at best and straight up useless at worst, instead of making a thread of all the times georgenotfound stayed silent, retweet resources that can help, show your support in a positive and effective way. at the end of the day, in my opinion we should start treating content creators for what they are, and if you don't like how they manage their online presence, if that doesn't make you feel safe or comfortable, it's your choice to leave and support someone else. it’s not your job to educate them.

i don't want to speak about juneteenth in particular, my feelings are about the same, but admittedly i am in a very privileged position, so who the fuck am i to say "you shouldn't expect this and that from content creators"? this seems like a more delicate issue that i probably shouldn't speak over, though i don't understand why george, british white man, would even know about this. i never knew about juneteenth until this year, if i'm being honest. 

[masterhandss]

I’m sorry you have to receive so much Geordo-hate asks!

I mean, we know he is not a perfect character and has many flaws, but that’s precisely that what makes him interesting, as it’s been shown that he himself wishes to change for the better for Katarina sake’s

And even if we are few, I am also team Geordo ✨! So I’d be delighted if you could share more headcanons about his relationship with the King and Queen? I personally find his family life very interesting, as his “fake” personality may be a result of being kind of ignored in comparison with his other brothers

Thank you :D -🐢

Haha, I think this question was sent around S2 EP3 or EP4, and episode 5 pretty much answers this question for me so I feel really bad for getting to this one so late into the series qwq I'm really sorry!! Don't worry about the hate-asks, I either just ignore or delete them these days anyways, and people have been favoring Geordo recently so it's really slowed down!! :DD

As Episode 5 shows us, it's true that his "perfect prince facade" is the outcome of not receiving much love and attention from his parents, especially when compared to Alan. He realized that wanting something or having expectations only leads to pain and suffering, so he decided to close off his emotions and just do what everyone tells him to do so that he wouldn't be faced with disappointments. He becomes all smiles and charm, the perfect guy who can do pretty much anything, since that is what is desired and expected of him. To some extent, maybe using all of his time honing himself and studying is a way for him to forget any desire and disappointments that he feels in the moment. He basically planned on turning himself into a robot or machine who can do anything and can read people easily so he would know their intentions immediately without forming any expectations of them. Maybe his "sadistic" side in Fortune Lover is the outcome of him wanting to see pain and disappointment in other people's faces, since it is something he loathe and fear of feeling himself (maybe, idk).

He isn't perfect, but the series is definitely going out of it's way to show us that there's more going on in Geordo's head than just being possessive and overly-confident in himself. I guess that's why he's one of the more interesting characters in my opinion, his problems didn't end in his childhood, it's still something he's actively trying to fix until now. I really suggest reading this comment on Geordo's psyche based on Episode 5, it's such a cool read!!

Not really a headcanon at this point, but Geordo actively wants to experience parental love, especially from his mother. Most kids are closest to their mothers so that's no surprise. Queen Stuart doesn't seem like she can balance the duties of a queen and caring for her children, so she might have just put all her attention onto Alan since he's the youngest and is sick. I often hear stories from my dad about how his mom only really visibly cared for the youngest child even though there was so many of them in the family, so I'm shocked but not surprised by the Queen's behavior.

For the King, I'm sure he loves his sons a lot but given his role in the kingdom, he doesn't see them often. I feel like the relationship between the King and his sons is similar to that to most korean historical fantasy(/villainess) manhwas where he can't or feels like he doesn't need to be an overly affectionate father because that's just how it is in the royal family. Maintaining order and raising competent rulers is the priority, so being loving and affectionate wouldn't be in his list of things to do. He still loves his sons of course but as of right now we don't really have an indication that he actively seeks them out beyond social gatherings and important events.

Maybe the queen is the same, I'm not sure. What does a queen do anyways? I thought the priority of women in the middle ages was to raise and care for children almost exclusively. We don't really know if she still visits and cares for Alan a lot after he got better, and I don't think she had begun to give more attention to her other sons after that point either. It's almost like she became as goal-oriented as the King after Alan got better, which I don't like thinking about since she seemed like such a nice lady in Episode 5. Alternatively, I can imagine a scenario similar to Pryde's from The Most Heretical Last Boss Queen where upon the realization that his sons are living a happy childhood without her, the Queen started actively reaching out to the sons behind the curtains and tries to be a more active mother to them when they were getting older. Maybe it's that kind of thing that we don't really see but does happen, and could be another great differentiator to the relationships of the Stuart family in the prevent vs in fortune lover.

I headcanon that the more the Princes finally become involved with work and politics, they are actually able to bond with their dad more because they can finally be in the same room. Things like talking about their fiancés or making fun of idiotic and narcissistic vassals are the kind of things I can imagine them talking about.

I also like headcanons in fanfics where they make Geordo a momma's boy, who would call his parents "mummy and daddy" in private like in @/SixthOctavarium's Flip the Script. I think it's really cute because it shows how much Geordo loves and cares for his parents.

I hope we get more insight on the relationships between the royal family, it's content that I didn't know I needed to be honest haha. Sorry if I couldn't give a lot, most of the stuff I could save has been confirmed and deconfirmed by Episode 5, and I haven't read fanfiction recently enough to mirror how they write the King and Queen qwq Anyone is free to add more headcanons here if you guys want :DD

Thank you for the ask^^

[novantinuum]

Fandom: Steven Universe

Rating: Teen Audiences (TW: language)

Words: ~3K

Summary: Lars has no idea what he was expecting the moment Steven texted him in the middle of the night to ask if he could come over, but being immediately tackled in an intense vice-grip of a hug the second he opened the door probably wasn’t it.

Set mid SUF.

I don’t think I’ve ever gotten to write Lars’ POV before this, but it was really fun! If you read this and enjoy, I’d greatly appreciate your support through reblogs here, or kudos/comments on AO3. Thank you! <3

____

Besides the quiet lull of the TV and the electric hum of the attic’s rickety old heater, all is silent in the Barriga household. The nighttime streets outside are vacant. Not a soul roams through his section of town, not even the newer Gem arrivals, who thankfully have been informed of humanity’s biologically mandated curfew by now. Sheesh, it’s about time.

After all, silence is peace. And in this day and age, in a world where the barriers between human and intergalactic politics are becoming increasingly blurred by the hour, peace is a gift.

Which is why having free time to play whatever old video games he wants in complete and total solitude at one AM is probably the single thing keeping him sane at this moment.

Lars’ fingers expertly flick at the joysticks of the controller as if by innate memory. It genuinely feels like forever since he’s been able to lose himself for hours in a solo campaign like this, and quite honestly, if given a choice he prefers it to any other leisurely activity. Chatting with his online friends or with that Gem gang of his is fun, sure, and working the counter at his bake shop can often be emotionally satisfying, but pushed too long and any kind of social interaction feels draining. He shifts on his bed, paying little to no attention to the slight chill against his bare chest. He’s pretty sure it’s like, near freezing outside and yet somehow it’s no more an annoyance to him than having to pause to reload an ammo clip in this game. It’s weird. Really weird. But then, at this point everything about his dumb life is.

It’s the Steven effect, he thinks with a soft scoff. Weird practically orbits him and his moms, and inevitably, every person he comes in contact with is brought into the fold. He’s a good kid, though. Don’t get him wrong. Steven always tries his best to be thoughtful when dealing with people he doesn’t understand— even when initially those people just act like dicks in return— and he for one is grateful for that, for the gift of a... a second chance. He knows full well he didn’t deserve it, (he still doesn’t), but he’s grateful.

The kid’s still on his mind when his phone lights up on the nightstand beside him, like the now familiar glow of Gems synchronizing to fuse.

(And goddamnit, does a part of him still balk almost two years later that it’s so normal to be casually relating everyday things to outer space Gem stuff anyways. What is he, with his pink hair and alien friends, the main character of an anime?)

Eyes skirt away from the grainy television set he’s been playing his favorite Immortal Combat on, and glance at the new notification.

Steven, the name at the top of the text reads. Well, lo and behold. The true shounen protagonist himself. Somebody’s ears must have been burning. Though, hmm. Come to think of it, that’s actually unusual. They pass bullshit memes back and forth sometimes, yes, but he never sends him anything this late at night.

Lars frowns, failing to obscure that annoying, instinctual worry that seizes him like the long lost sensation of hunger rising from the pit of his stomach, and scoots forward on his bed to grab his phone. What’s he want at this hour, anyways?

Steven: hey, sorry i know its late but can i come over ?

His frown deepens as he glances down at himself, clad in only a pair of boxers. He doesn’t mind having an unexpected visitor— after all, it’s not like he requires sleep anymore— but he’s not exactly dressed for company, here.

yeah but gimme a mo, he types back. kinda need to put on a shirt

Steven: k

Yawning out of sheer habit, he leans over the other side of the bed and grabs the first decent smelling tee he can find off the floor. It’s got an overlapping triangular emblem on it, a symbol from one of the game series he used to be obsessed with as a kid. He quickly shrugs it and a stray pair of sweatpants on, then returns to his phone.

decent now, he updates him.

The response is almost immediate.

Steven: be there soon

With a heavy inhale, he leans back against the headboard and begins to mentally prepare himself for the passage of One Whole Teenage Boy through the portal in his hair. For the most part he’s grown used to the changes caused by Steven’s literal magic resurrection, but not this. Who the hell knows how his pet lion puts up with it all the time. Quite frankly, how that creature has remained so docile and patient after years of interloping within Steven’s chaotic world of Gems eludes him, ‘cause it sure as hell isn’t a side effect of all the death-defying space voodoo.

Also, he’s like, 97% sure that “docile” and “patient” aren’t words anyone would pick to describe him at any stage of his life, ever.

And yet, yawning in his boredom, Lars waits.

And he waits.

And he waits.

And when eventually he breaks his stubborn streak and dares to check the time on his phone to see how many minutes have elapsed, how many minutes of his thrice-damned maybe infinite lifespan he’s wasted sitting up against the far wall of his room waiting for that kid to tumble right out of the literal inter-dimensional door hidden amidst the curls atop his head, he’s mildly surprised that his first emotional response to this delay is... dare he admits... disappointment.

It’s been nearly fifteen minutes. For whatever unknown reason, it seems as if Steven may not be coming over after all. Huh. He wonders what changed his mind. Pressing his lips into a thin line, Lars decides to check his texts. It’s possible the guy wrote something else and he just didn’t see it. But when he pulls up his latest conversation, all that comes up are the last messages they sent to each other. Be there soon, he said.

He hovers hesitant fingers over the keyboard, caught in the midst of trying to decide whether or not it’s too invasive and prying to send some sort of casual check-in, when he picks up on a very timid knock on the front door downstairs. And given the lateness of the hour, there’s really only one person it could be. He blinks for a moment, his mind still doing somersaults in order to process the mere concept of Steven not gleefully taking the opportunity to explode out of his hair for once in his life, and then drags himself up to his feet. Walks out of his attic room and down the stairs, being careful not to disturb his slumbering parents. Unlatches the locks on the door.

Truth be told he has no idea what he was expecting the moment Steven texted him at one fucking AM to ask if he could come over, but being immediately tackled in an intense vice-grip of a hug the second he opened the door probably wasn’t it.

He struggles not to stumble backwards at the initial force of the teen’s silent yet yearning embrace, eventually regaining his stability and... slowly, delicately... hugging him back. Honestly, he’s never been much of a hugger himself, but eh. He’ll give the guy this one. After a brief moment Lars gives him a few awkward pats, clearing his throat.

“Uh, Steven? You good to let go, now?” he asks quietly, still keeping his voice in a whisper for his parents’ benefit.

“Oh! Y-yeah, yeah,” his younger friend stammers, immediately pulling himself away. His eyes are drawn to the floor as he wrings his hands together. Timid. “Sorry, I just— I just needed somewhere I could clear my head tonight. Thank you, by the way.”

“No problem,” he throws back, gesturing for him to follow up the stairs. “‘S not like I ever sleep a wink now anyways. So I might as well have company.”

The two of them tiptoe towards the attic, a familiar setting for both. Steven’s been in here quite a few times before, so— already knowing the lay of the land— he plops himself down in the beanbag chair Lars keeps at the foot of his bed. They don’t talk about much of anything at first, merely passing back and forth brief updates about their lives. Small talk, nothing more. As expected though, Steven’s update is infinitely more interesting than his. Apparently he went on some mission to an alien planet with that Lapis friend of his the other day and had to deal with the attitude of some stubborn terraformers who didn’t want to stop working on their shitty old Homeworld assignment. (Meanwhile, the only update he has to offer is how he’s teaching Blue Lace Agate the art of bad baking puns while at work. Gotta leave behind some sort of legacy before he leaves with his fellow Off-Colors, of course.)

When the small talk finally dries up, (which seems... uncharacteristic, given the typical enthusiasm of his current visitor), Lars offers him a second controller.

“We can play the go-kart one, if you want,” he says, knowing full well that his friend isn’t a huge fan of all his war-themed combat games. Still, he figures the guy could probably stand to blow off a little steam. He looks super stressed, with his brow all creased and his stare unnervingly glassy.

The sixteen-year-old nods, adjusting his hands around the grips of the controller as Lars switches out the disk.

They race a few rounds in relative quiet, wholly insulated by the reassuring stillness of the night all around them, before Steven decides to open up again.

“Where do you think the line is?” he asks when they finish their current course.

His whole face scrunches in confusion. “Huh?”

“Between like, doing bad things, and outright being bad?” he continues, seemingly unaware of the comedic pulse of Lars’ initial response.

Lars blinks.

Considers these words deeply and thoroughly for a moment, as any good friend should.

And then...

“Where the heck did you pull that question from?”

Steven merely shrugs, his shoulders drooping a bit lower than they had been when he first entered his house a while back. “I dunno, just musing, ‘s all.”

The edges of his mouth curl downwards as he lets this corker of a conversation starter wash over him, not so much intended as a frown at Steven, but a frown at... whatever force of this universe would lead his friend to start musing about such depressing philosophical quandaries in the first place. Acting numb and brooding at the rest of the world is supposed to be his job, not this kid’s! And sure, yes, yes, yes, he knows he can’t exactly call him a kid anymore— at least not to his face— and that he’s been a teenager for a good three years now. It’s just that... well. For all his complaints about it earlier in life, Lars kinda grew to respect and feel uplifted by his cheery, upbeat, never-give-up-hope outlook. Dare he says, he kinda misses it.

(And for Steven’s sake, he kinda hoped he’d never discover the burnout and cynicism waiting on the other side. Alas, he fears that ship has probably sailed.)

“Sorry,” the sixteen-year-old mumbles upon noting his extended silence, his cheeks flushed with shame. “Probably not something anyone wants to think about at two in the morning. Just- forget I said anything, okay? Let’s play one more round, and then I can lea—“

Eyes widening, he holds up a hand to intercept that train of thought. “No, that’s— you asked an interesting question. Deep, but interesting. It’s fine, I don’t mind. I...”

He inhales deep, collecting his wits and whatever years of wisdom he may or may not have accumulated ever since dying and coming back to life.

“I suppose in my mind, people aren’t truly bad unless they intend to cause harm, y’know?” he begins, meeting Steven’s eyes. “You can still hurt others without meaning it, and like... that’s still not great, and you should still try and make up for it however you can, but... life’s complicated. People are complicated. It’s all a huge mess of emotions and ethics and beliefs all the time.”

He pauses, a twinge of melancholy rising within his chest as he catches a glimpse of a photograph hung on one of the wooden support beams at the far wall. It’s a selfie of him and Sadie he printed out a few years back when they were still low-key dating, one that— for the life of him— he can’t bear to take down. She’s kissing his cheek. He’s caught in the middle of laughter, playfully trying to nudge her away. They look... so young.

So naive.

(So human.)

“And sometimes it can be so, so easy to convince yourself that you’re always in the right,” he continues, quieter, “that people feeling hurt because of something you did is just their problem. In that case, it’s not that you wanted to harm anyone, it’s just... that you were blind to it, I guess.”

(And he was blind for a long, long time.)

“Like I said, it’s messy.”

Lars sighs, willfully averting his glance from the photographic reminder of all the ways he ignorantly fucked up with Sadie as a friend and partner, and with everyone in his life, making the same stupid mistakes over and over with nearly no improvement until he literally died to his old self.

“So, yeah. There. I guess that’s my opinion,” he mumbles, absentmindedly fiddling with the collar of his graphic tee. “Everyone makes bad choices sometimes, but you’re not actually a bad person unless you literally want to harm others. I don’t think people are bad once and bad forever, though,” he adds, pulling his hand away from his shirt.

Inhaling deep, he splays his palm wide, admiring those same old loops and whorls at the tips of his fingers, identical in every detail to his old, living, human self... but now pink. It's haunting, sometimes.

“People can change, y’know? If they make the effort to.”

When he finally glances back at Steven, he seems thoroughly spaced out by all his impassioned rambling, his gaze walleyed and void of any identifiable emotion. He scowls, unsure whether or not he should feel offended, and gives an exaggerated shrug to defuse the sickeningly earnest atmosphere out of this room.

“But hey, I’m biased,” he mutters, letting that instinctual, age-old self-depreciation coat his tone once more. “For all I know, everything I said could be absolute bunk, and I’m still just an asshole.”

“I don’t think you’re an asshole, Lars,” Steven finally speaks up, his expression still perplexingly unreadable.

“I—“ His eyes blow wider, the sheer frankness of this comment catching him entirely off guard, overturning all of his once-impenetrable defenses. “...Thank you. I’m trying not to be.”

The conversation doesn’t advance any further from there, both parties content to fade back into the understated comfort of silent companionship. They play a few more rounds of their racing game, Lars beating Steven handily each time. (Truth be told, he’s not confident he’s bringing his A-game, though.) Then, sometime around three AM, his friend drags himself out of the beanbag chair and announces that he should probably head home and get some rest. Apparently he’s got a lot of planning to do for Little Homeschool's graduation ceremony that’s happening in a few days, or whatever. Which, is fair. Not everyone is blessed enough to be a sleepless zombie like him.

“Y’know, it’s been nice, getting to hang out, just us,” Steven says— quiet, but genuine— as Lars leads him back down the stairs. “We should do this more often.”

Purposefully, given the unusual emotional atmosphere of this whole visit, he decides not to mention the fact that he's planning to leave Earth again when his all Gem friends finally graduate. Later, he thinks, when everyone's in a better place.

“Well, if you’re ever bored, you know where to reach me,” he replies as they reach the bottom step, fondly rolling his eyes. “The good ol’ inter-hair-mensional express. Just, y’know— text me. And not during work hours.”

The teen gives his thanks once again, and then exits out the front, making sure to be extra gentle shutting the door on his way out for his parents’ sake. Huh. Seems that even when he’s (seemingly) in a funk, he’s capable of being uber courteous like that. Goodness, how does he do it?

Lars stands motionless at the entryway for a few moments after he’s gone, staring blankly at the now empty space the sixteen-year-old just occupied. His brow furrows, his fingers curling in perplexion at his side. He doesn’t have enough insight into Steven’s inner life to claim anything for sure, but he can’t help but feel like something with that boy was... off, tonight. Like, beyond your standard teenage moodiness. His demeanor, his bizarre and specific question, his relative silence... it all seems to be pointing towards something, lurking in the background. Still, there’s little he can do for a person who’s not volunteering information. And it ain’t his job to drag it out of him, either. He always hated when his parents tried to do that when he was younger, and it almost ruined their relationship entirely. That’s the last sorta scenario he’d want to force upon Steven. He’ll open up when he’s ready, in the end.

And until then... well.

He just hopes that the kid knows that— beyond the bizarre magic portal in that pink lion’s mane— he’s always got a brother on the other side who’s willing to at least listen. To be but a small source of support.

If he wants him to be.

[strange-lace]

Concert State of Consciousness

IT’S FINALLY DONE! I HAVE NOW MADE A FANFIC FOR THIS ROLESWAP AU! I didn’t expect this damn thing to get this long but here I am, once again! Kind of happy with how everyone’s characterized, though Demon Kid ended up a bit more sinister than I intended. I definitely had fun writing the dynamic between Mei and Green though.

Hope y’all like it!

To say the city was abuzz with excitement would be an understatement.

For the past couple of months, the name DJ Horns has been spoken with increasing interest as his music suddenly began to be played on the radio constantly. And most people wouldn’t deny that it was good, electronic yet incredibly varied depending on the song. But what interested people the most about the musician was how mysterious he was, active on social media and yet nobody knew his face and only the barest of personal details. Even his voice was a matter of debate with him using a voice synthesizer even when talking normally on his social media.

It was the perfect storm to allow DJ Horns fanbase to start from nothing to practically explode over time.

And the same musician had just announced that he would be doing a live concert right at the heart of the city, even playing “secret tracks” that he had yet to let anyone hear until now.

People were practically fighting to get themselves tickets, Mei herself included that chaos. She had been swept up in the excitement of DJ horns since the very beginning and was willing to do whatever she had to get tickets for her and Green to that concert.

Leading her to the unfortunate situation she was in now. Kicked out of the ticket venue and by the time the ban would be lifted, she knew all the concert tickets would be sold out. Oh and Green had to bail her out from getting in trouble with the security guys.

“I don’t get what the big deal was, everyone was fighting dirty to get first pick at those tickets!” Even with his shades, she could tell that Green was rolling his eyes at her.

“Oh gee, I don’t know Mei. Maybe it’s because you nearly tore a guy’s hair out!”

“That’s what he gets for trying to say I was only a fan to get the attention of other guys! Now I’m gonna miss the concert of a lifetime,” Mei groaned, a pout on her lips. Green’s scowl of disappointment softened as they walked into Pigsy’s Noodles, starting to feel bad. It’s not like the guy wasn’t being a jerk after all.

“I suppose I could see about pulling some strings to get us some decent seats, if it means that much-” He was cut off by a crushing hug from Mei, who easily lifted Green off of his feet and began to twirl them both around in sheer jubilation.

“You’d do that for me?! Thank you so much Green, you’re the absolute best!”

“Yes, yes, your appreciation is very evident now please put me down before you crush my rib cage,” he wheezed, letting in a deep gulp of air once he was freed. Mei appeared sheepish at the unintentional show of strength. “As I was saying, there’s probably a couple scalpers I could cough two tickets out of without much trouble.”

“I still question how you have the money to just do stuff like that casually, make hundreds of gadgets, and build our secret base.”

“You have your mysterious ways and I have mine Mei.” Before Mei could question further, Pigsy voice interrupted them both, looking a fair bit of a mess.

“There you are kid, we got a mountain of orders for you to deliver! Oh, and this came for you and Green in mail while you were gone, no return address though weirdly enough,” he said, shoving a load of noodle orders in Mei’s arms alongside two unmarked envelopes: one orange and the other green. The sound of something crashing in the kitchen tore Pigsy’s attention away, causing him to let out a string of curses as he went back into what sounded like chaos.

Green took the envelopes off Mei’s hands while she struggled with balancing all the orders in her arms, studying them with interest. Upon closer inspection, each envelope simply had “To My Heroes” scrawled on the front in elegant writing and sealed with a black wax seal on the back. He found himself impressed at all the sheer amount of effort put in.

“Fancy,” he commented before gently opening the green envelope. His eyes widened at what he found inside. “Looks like I won’t need to pay any scalpers for tickets.”

“Wait what do you mean? Gimme that!” Mei said, putting the orders down on the table to snatch the orange envelope and tear into it with desperate ferocity. There were practically stars once she took in what was inside: front row tickets to the DJ Horns concert and even VIP passes.

The windows of the restaurant rattled the slightest bit as the sheer force of her screams of joy.

Green didn’t even flinch as his ears were assaulted, used to this level of volume, while unfortunate bystanders winced in pain or jumped in surprise. He found a handwritten behind the ticket in his own envelope and curiosity getting the better of him, began to read it.

“As a token of thanks for always keeping this city safe, here’s free front row tickets on me! Can’t wait to see you both tonight in front of the crowd! ♡♡♡

- DJ Horns”

“How… suspiciously generous of him,” Green drawled, an eyebrow raised at such a note.

“What’s suspicious about it? We do save the city a lot and somebody’s just showing their appreciation for it! I see no problem with it,” Mei argued, pausing in her celebrations, which involved her doing a handstand on one of the stools and didn’t even seem bothered holding the position.

“Mei, this implies that he hand delivered these here without anybody noticing. Why go through all that effort to be sneaky?” It just didn’t sit right in the pit of his stomach, something smelled rotten about this to him.

“Because he’s a mega famous celebrity, he’s probably worried that making a big deal out of us giving these could make people upset or something.” It made sense to Mei, who wouldn’t free tickets from their favorite music artist and be upset that someone else was given that opportunity? She did a small flip from the stool to land next to Green, wrapping her arm around his shoulders until they were close enough that their cheeks were squished together. Despite the closeness, Green looked more uncomfortable about being tugged down to Mei’s height than anything else. That and how blinding her smile was.

“C’mon Green, I get the skepticism but it’s just a concert. One night where we can be normal teens enjoying the fruits of our labor in protecting this place, what’s so bad about that? Plus, it’ll be fun! So how about it?” Mei said, almost sounding desperate. Green remained silent for a moment before letting out a defeated sigh, only giving her a tired smile as he returned the one armed hug.

“Oh alright, you win. I suppose a break sounds nice right about now considering how things went with Demon Kid last time. Why look a gift horse in the mouth?” He conceded, willing to let his suspicion aside for a night of just not having to worry about anything but having a good time and enjoying music. Especially after yesterday, Green was still amazed that the demon managed to make something like perfume into a weapon of mass annoyance.

“That’s the spirit! This is gonna be the night of our lives!”

At least that’s what she thought, until her trinkets were literally snatched out of her hands.

“After you finish your deliveries for the night kid,” Pigsy interrupted, looking a lot more put together now that whatever disaster that had been happening in the kitchen was under control. Excluding the number of stains on his apron that weren’t there before of course. It took Mei a moment to process that her precious tickets weren’t in her hands and she was quick to bring out the puppy dog eyes.

“But- but Pigsy-” Pigsy showed no sign of giving in, having years to build a resistance to all of Mei’s tricks.

“I’m sorry Mei, but we’re way too swamped to let you run off with no one to do all these deliveries. Once you have all the deliveries done, you can have these back. But only after, so you better get started,” he stated, leaving no room for argument. And even if Mei tried, the smell of something burning had Pigsy back in the kitchen just like that with even more fervent curses, this time with her tickets tucked into the pockets of his apron.

Mei let out a groan and smacked her forehead against the countertop in despair. Green merely patted her back in sympathy to her plight.

“There’s no way I’m gonna make all those deliveries and not miss like half of the concert! Unless…”

Oh no, he recognized that look in her eyes anywhere.

“Mei, no. I know exactly what you’re thinking and I’m telling you right now, no. No music is worth facing Pigsy’s wrath if he finds out you skipped out on work for a concert. Which is what exactly will happen, he always finds out,” Green warned her, even taking off his sunglasses to look her dead in the eyes to get his point across. Mei winced at that, remembering what had happened last time she tried to skimp on work.

The power of Pigsy’s “I’m not mad, just disappointed” is something even DBK should fear.

“Look, I’ll record whatever you miss if I don’t see you by the time it starts. Might not be the same but it’s better than nothing.” That offer seemed to perk Mei up from her bout of disappointment, hopeful eyes peeking through her thick hair bangs.

“Promise?”

“I promise. But if you don’t want to miss the whole thing, you’d better do what Pigsy says and get started on the deliveries. Especially since I think that pile has grown since we got here,” Green said, pointing to the small mountain of orders which indeed had gotten bigger since passed off to her. This time, he was more prepared for the bone crushing embrace which came his way and thankfully had his arms free enough to return it.

“Thanks Green, you’re the best! Hopefully I’ll see you there before it all starts!” And just like that, Mei was off like a whirlwind with all the noodle orders in her arms. She excitedly loaded them into the shop’s delivery cart and drove off with a strong stomp in the gas pedal, the cart’s tires squealing in distress before driving off.

With a weary sigh, Green took his leave as well though he couldn’t stop looking at the ticket and note in his hands. 

Even with Mei’s assurances, something about the situation still did not sit right with him.

“For once, please let me be wrong,” Green whispered to himself, not noticing a suspiciously familiar monkey-shaped marionette creature eagerly watching him from the rooftops above. On the other side of the puppet’s eyes, her creator couldn’t help the manic grin off of his face as the pieces started to fall into place for his plan.

Green had to admit that he was expecting this many people packed into the area when he rolled up to the concert gates on his motorcycle, Mei still nowhere in sight. Though he certainly made sure to update him on how the deliveries were going.

A familiar ding sound on his phone made him pause, giving an exasperated smile at seeing another text from Mei.

“WHY ARE SO MANY PEOPLE ORDERING NOODLES TONIGHT??? got done w 3/4 of the orders, if i hurry i should be there before opening act’s done. if anybody tries to steal my seat, i give you permission to use lethal force. don’t let me down! <3”

“Maybe if you didn’t send me so many texts, you’d be getting the deliveries done faster Mei,” Green mumbled to himself fondly as he climbed off his bike, blissfully unaware of the stares being sent his way. As usual, his hair was a mess of black and pale green spikes as he pulled off his helmet and he let out a soft huff, attempting to put order to the mane that was his hair as he made his way inside.

Green let out a low whistle, impressed as he walked further in to discover the place was decorated head to toe with fluorescent neon lights, state of the art music equipment, and a giant disco ball hanging from the ceiling which added another layer of glitz. It was almost disorientating, the onslaught of neon colors, lights, and music from all sides but in a way that was also exhilarating. The harsh glow of red, orange, and purple was a bit much for Green but at the same time it filled him with a sense of giddiness that made him begin to understand Mei’s desperation to be here.

His heart did a slight leap of excitement once he found his seat. It was one thing to read he had a front row seat and another thing entirely to see how close he was to the stage. And a completely separate thing to see a note on the seat, scrawled with a familiar extravagant writing which welcomed him and Mei with hopes that they would enjoy the show.

All too soon, all the lights went out and Green could feel his breath pause before they returned with full force alongside familiar music which seemed to make the entire room pulsate with its vibrations. Multiple spotlights shined on the stage and the crowd went wild with cheering as DJ Horns finally showed, looking just as bombastic as his set up.

He wore an ornate metallic helmet decorated with large horns that protruded from the forehead which shined a rainbow of colors under the neon lights. A dark fur lined coat was draped over his shoulders with a matching suit underneath and metal lined gloves on his hands. Overall, he looked like quite a character to Green though there was niggling in the back of his head that this should be someone that he could recognize. The grip on the arms of his seat tightened.

His eyes took in the still empty seat to his right and he began to gnaw his lip in worry.

“Where are you Mei?” Green asked himself before the synthesized voice of DJ Horns interrupted his thoughts.

“What is up everybody? You all ready for the show of a lifetime?!” A loud cacophonous roar of cheers answered him, which he soaked in without a hint of shame in his posture. “That’s what I like to hear! And we have some very special guests tonight right in the front row, the Monkie Kid herself and her partner, the Green Dragon!”

Green couldn’t help the flinch when a spotlight suddenly shined down on him, leaving him feeling exposed to hundreds upon thousands of eyes which zeroed in on him the vacant seat next to him. Yet he still forced on a smile which was more teeth than anything else, not quite appreciating being put on the spot like this. The musician’s shoulders seemed to tense in disappointment once he also noticed being down one of his special guests, yet he was quick to shake it off.

“Seems it’s more like one special guest, but no matter! We’re still going to make this a night that the city itself won’t ever forget! The first and unfortunately, only, live concert by the one and only DJ Horns!” He was met with gasps of surprise and even a couple cries of despair at this bombshell. “I know, I know! But there’s a reason for this, my dear fans. Because after tonight, you’ll all know the man behind the mask and I’m sure you’ve all been dying to know who it is. Am right?!” DJ Horns teased, hands reaching for his helmet.

The manic energy of the entire building seemed to escalate to almost out of control levels at that announcement, people scrambling for their phones to get the chance of capturing his face before anyone else. Green would have been among them if that uneasy feeling hadn’t begun to grow into full on paranoia, as if his very being could sense that the other shoe was about to drop. He was so tense that Green felt like he couldn’t breathe.

“Please let me be wrong, please let me be wrong, please let me be wrong,” he chanted to himself, his grip tightening to an unbearable degree as DJ Horns finally pulled off his helmet.

Unfortunately for him and everyone else, he wasn’t wrong.

His heart practically stopped as his eyes were welcomed by an unfortunately familiar face: spiked brown hair held up by a golden circlet styled like horns, dark eyes framed in orange and red pigment, and a fanged grin that promised nothing but trouble.

Demon Kid.

And his grin only became larger once he took in the shocked silence, particularly Green’s horror ridden face. He looked extremely pleased with himself as he took advantage of everyone struggling to process what was going on to prepare for the final phase of his plan.

And would it be a sweet victory for him.

“Oh, I’m going to treasure that look on your face for the rest of my life, Dragon Boy. It’s certainly a shame that the Noodle Girl couldn’t join in on the party but, eh, she’ll come eventually.” Green had finally overcome his horror, sword in his hands and making a mad dash towards Demon Kid on the stage. Yet the demon remained unaffected as he put on the finishing touches. “Because by the time I’m done, everyone in this whole city will be dancing for my king like my puppets. Starting with all you!” 

And with that, Demon Kid put the volume at max and blasted the entire building with his music. The sheer force of the sound sent Green flying back, crashing into now abandoned seats as people attempted to escape. However, to their horror, all the doors were locked and barricaded. Leaving them trapped and at the mercy of the music assaulting their ears from all sides and one by one, civilians fell to the floor as they tried their hardest to muffle the noise. Yet as if a sentient force, the melody managed to slither its way in and overwhelmed people’s senses like a tidal wave with one simple but overpowering command.

And that command was to obey.

Green climbed to his feet in a daze, struggling to focus with the sheer volume and the strange whispering that seemed to be coming from nowhere and everywhere. And already Green could feel his mental walls crumbling, he wasn’t going to last long before he succumbed to the strange power.

Mei.

He had to warn Mei.

He scrambled for his phone, barely able to take him the most recent message from Mei stating she was heading back to get her ticket back from Pigsy. Clumsy fingers fumbled to type out a warning and relief flooded his nerves once the message was sent.

And just in time as Green found himself being dogpiled by multiple people, their eyes glowing a hollow and ominous red. He struggled yet the mental strain of fighting to keep control left him weak and vulnerable, sword just out of his reach. Impish chuckling invaded his ears and before he knew it, Demon Kid was right there. And while the demon typically only had a couple inches on Green, now he downright loomed over him and radiating smugness.

“Still fighting huh Dragon Boy? Almost impressive! But there’s no point in fighting anymore, the spell will wear you down one way or another. So save your energy, you’ll need it when you and Noodle Girl help me conquer this city in the name of my king. It’ll be awesome, just you wait!” The childlike giddiness would almost be endearing if Green wasn’t fighting a mental battle that he had no chance in winning, not against this kind of magic.

“Mei’ll stop you, she always does,” he grit out, eyes already taking on a faint red glow.

“Oh I wouldn’t be so sure of that, after all I’d like to see her fight against her best friend when he’s under my control. But that’s not for you to worry about. Now, give in Dragon Boy,” Demon Kid commanded and like that, Green found himself being pulled under into a strange haze, only able to think of obeying the commands of his puppetmaster. The demon couldn’t help the joyous laugh as he watched Green’s eyes become red much like the rest of his little army.

Mei had been driving like a madwoman towards the concert the moment she read Green’s text.

“it’s demon kid using spell to hypnotize people don’t have time can already feel control slipping need to destroy his set up and stop the music before he gets city”

“I swear if he’s hurt Green, I will make him wish he stuck with making music,” she hissed to herself before letting out a growl at another red light slowing her down. “To hell with this.” Mei summoned the staff, slamming one end against the street and keeping a tight grip as the staff extended, sending her and the cart sailing above the streets below.

Mei barely flinched at the rough landing in front of the building, only feeling a flash of guilt at the state of the cart. She could pay Pigsy back for the damages later. Staff held tight in her grip and headphones on to buy herself time, Mei was ready for anything. And upon taking notice that all the doors appeared to be either locked or blocked, she did the next best thing to get inside.

Pole vault and smash her way through a window, miraculously not cutting herself on the glass.

She tumbled forward upon landing and took in the scene before her.

Her headphones certainly didn’t stop her from feeling the bass practically rock the foundation of the place yet what Mei found more worrisome were the people. Instead of rushing to attack her, they were all dancing to the beat of the song and looked almost perfectly normal. Except they were all too in sync and choreographed, as if Mei found herself in a music video than anything else. A shiver traveled down her spine as they all seemed to be watching her yet gave her a wide berth to catch sight of the stage.

Her blood boiled at the sight of Demon Kid, perched at his station but wiggling about showing he was barely able to sit still in anticipation.

“There you are, you had me waiting forever for you to get here!” He exclaimed, almost happy to see Mei before he caught himself and schooled his expression back to a businesslike indifference. “Not that it matters, you’ll be joining the Dragon Boy soon enough and we can start taking over this city!”

“Not while I have these headphones on, asshole!” Mei screamed over the music before rushing towards the stage, ready to smash Demon Kid’s equipment to pieces. It was only out of a vague sense of danger which flared in the back of her head and dodging at the right time that she managed to evade being skewered in the side by a sword.

The sight of Green, eyes lifeless red and moving around as if a stiff marionette being led around on strings, was definitely one that Mei was going to see in her nightmares for who knows how long.

Leaping to dodge another swipe of Green’s sword, Demon Kid’s cackle seemed to echo in sync with the music.

“Well then we’ll just have to rip those headphones off your pretty head ourselves! Minions, if you please!” Following the demon’s command, the hypnotized civilians stopped their dancing and attacked.

And Mei soon found herself swarmed and being attacked on all sides. It soon became more of a deadly game of tag, keeping herself out of the reach of her countless pursuers and evading Green’s relentless attacks. She was running out of time and space, she needed to think of a plan.

Fast.

Her eyes soon caught sight of the stage lighting above Demon Kid’s set and it was as if a lightbulb went off in her head.

It was risky and she only had one shot.

But Mei was always one for risk.

With a quick change in direction, Mei dashed towards the center of the swarm and just before she was pulled in, she took aim and threw the staff towards the stage lights. She could only be left to hope that she didn’t miss as a hand grabbed her ankle, only to be face to face with Green. His blank face now alight with a victorious grin before they were left tumbling along the floor in a desperate bid to grab one another.

Mei grunted as she found herself pinned down by Green, the neon lights causing his sword to gleam with menace as he held the tip to her throat. His other hand ripped off her headphones without mercy and her own ears were overwhelmed by the music.

“C’mon staff, don’t let me down,” she said, doing her best to fight as the spell soon attempted to creep its way in her head too.

“Well done, my dear puppet,” Demon Kid congratulated Green, pride practically emanating from his being. “Any last words, Noodle Girl?” His victory was practically guaranteed now and he couldn’t wait to see the look on his king’s face.

Which only made the demon confused at the sight of Mei’s smirk, her eyes focused upwards.

“Yeah. Might want to look above.”

“What?” Demon Kid did so and his heart stuttered at the sight of the spinning staff pinballing across the walls before colliding with the heavy duty wires which held the stage lights.

And cut through them without ease.

Without any suspension, the stage light rig surrendered to the forces of gravity. Demon Kid hurriedly dived off the stage to save himself, narrowly missed being squished by the rig. Unfortunately, his music equipment was not granted the same luck and was crushed in a shower of sparks, cutting off the music.

Blissful silence took over the area and Mei let out a sigh of relief as the sensation of something prying at her mind vanished like mist. And she couldn’t help a smile as the red vanished from Green’s eyes, signifying the end of Demon Kid’s control on him. He let out a groan, crawling back to consciousness as if waking up from the world’s worst nap, before realizing where he was.

“Mei? What happened? Are you okay?” Green was quick to get off Mei and help her back to her feet. She simply gave him a hug, content to see him safe and sound now. He accepted the hug without complaint, feeling less like he was struggling to gather his ability for free will again after having it ripped away. They were quick to break away as flames licked at their backs and they were faced with Demon Kid, his hair now flames as he took in his now ruined DJ equipment.

The duo took fighting stances, only for the demon to take a deep breath and have his hair to return to normal.

“Well, looks like you both got me beat this time. Here I thought I had it all in the bag but then you pulled that off-the-wall solution out of nowhere! And I admit, it looked cool as hell! I’ll give you two this win, here’s a little something for it,” Demon Kid said before tossing a bundle their way, which Mei caught with a look of caution from Green before they unwrapped it. To their mutual surprise, it was two letterman jackets emblazoned with the DJ Horns logo on the back and sleeves.

Before they could question him on this, Demon Kid gave the two a cheeky week before vanishing in a whirlwind of fire and smoke.

After a moment of stunned silence, Mei wordlessly took one of the jackets and put it on.

“After all that, you’re still willing to wear anything associated with DJ Horns?”

“Hey, this is merch I’ve never seen before and you gotta admit, we’d make this look good.” She even struck a pose to prove her point.

With a resigned groan, Green followed suit by putting on the other jacket and silently agreed that the jackets did make them look pretty good.

[hawkinsschoolcounselor]

Hi, this ask is a bit longer, sorry. this is PART 1. I'm here cos I'd like to know your thoughts on the way the responsible st people are treating their fans. Frankly, there's a number of folks I know who once were really into the show but are now losing or have lost interest due to the lack of info we're given. also found plenty of people on the internet that feel the same way. It's a shame but I think most of them are disappointed, angry, annoyed or simply stopped caring.

“Part 2: Maybe via screenshot? I, too, find myself struggling to keep my interest alive. I'm really not trying to be unreasonable here. I know we're in the middle of a pandemic and I doubt anyone'd expect s4 to be released within the next 2 months. but I find one has to become a little creative these days, but no, frankly this lack of content is insulting. No teaser trailer, no serious updates, only unofficial ones. Barely any twitter activity and if there's a new tweet it's only unrelated stuff.

Part 3: I don't think this presumptuous 'it's st. Everyone loves it no matter what' attitude is a wise move. How do you feel about it? I'm assuming your analysis, which are great btw, help you staying interested, don't they? But they seem to forget not everyone does that. At the end of the day people are people and people might lose interest and move on. It's a shame though. Oh gosh, I'm so sorry. Thanks for your patience.”

Thank you for writing in. There’s never a need to be sorry about an Ask made in good faith. I thought this one might be good to answer immediately even though I’m very behind in my responses.

I understand your frustration. It’s been over a year since season 3, and we probably would have gotten season 4 by now if not for Covid. When one considers that we probably aren’t getting season 4 until, conservative guess, this Spring, it’s difficult to not get frustrated. I do think, though, that we need to be careful about where we aim that frustration.

Perhaps it’s because I’m older, but I harbor no anger at the Duffers or anyone else responsible for creating Stranger Things. I grew up in the time before social media or streaming services. Aside from VCRs, we had no means of on-demand television, and our entertainment news was mostly limited to TV Guide. Behind-the-scenes peeks and TV trailers were sparse, generally limited to the weeks leading into the new Fall TV season. This just isn’t fazing me like it may the younger generation. I understand, though. Many of you are simply accustomed to what you grew up with, just as I am.

I do feel a need to defend the showrunners. We get quite a bit of information, official and not. We’ve gotten teasers, cast announcements, and the postings of a Twitter account run by one of the Duffer’s assistants. Yes, a lot of that content has slowed, likely due to not having planned for an extended delay, but I hesitate to cast any blame on them for it. I simply remind myself that they do not really owe us anything. I repeat, they do not owe us anything.

We receive the fruits of their labor in the form of a very entertaining TV show. It is something they’ve chosen to do, and they are doing their best to do it. I fear we may be at risk of being spoiled by our current (at least prior to the shutdown) level of access to entertainment. Instant, on-demand gratification has become the norm as a result of social media and streaming services. It’s really hard to blame you, and anyone else, for getting upset now that this trend has been suddenly disrupted, but we need to engage in some self-reflection here. What right do we really have to demand anything from these people?

Production is still on despite several other shows being outright cancelled. All reasonable steps are being taken to ensure a safe filming environment so that we can get the show as soon as possible. We do get updates from the social media accounts, even if those updates have become fewer and farther between. There’s an element of diminishing returns when it comes to this sort of thing. There’s only so much they can give us without spoiling the product itself. They simply be scraping the bottom of the barrel at this point.

We do have some unofficial “leaks,” yes. Honestly, I’m not sure how unofficial those really are, though. The set photos that have come out have been minimal to the point that I feel they may have been designed to be as such. If it were really all the work of rogue production crewmembers or fans sneaking in, I would have expected a lot more. I’m not saying that it all has been authorized content masquerading as leaks, but I am saying it could be. They know the fans who are still following things are the ones who would look at unofficial sources. It’s not too much of a stretch to consider that they’ve done this on purpose to get the online fanbase speculating in order to keep interest going. I know it’s certainly given me something to do after I analyzed almost everything I could think of from the existing episodes. Not everyone does that, as you say, but the more casual fans probably aren’t even paying attention to the time between seasons. Others, like me or you, are either creating, or consuming, fan content in the meantime.

I ask patience and understanding of you all. These are the people who have clearly created something you love. They are suffering from this pandemic, as well, but they are still trying their best to give us what we want. We may all need to lower our expectations a bit. I fear they’ve grown to be too high in recent years, resulting in an unfair demand on content creators. Since this is the season of good will towards man, I’ll simply leave you with this reminder: patience, tolerance, and respect are things we often demand from others, but fail to demand of ourselves. Everyone involved in the show is working hard to get things done, and we need to show patience, tolerance, and respect while we wait.

[techouspeaks]

Healin Good Precure Final Verdict and thoughts on Tropical Rouge Precure!

First off, sorry I haven’t been around that much to even talk about Healin Good. First, I just kinda lost interest in doing reviews for a while and then some personal snit just had to be thrown in when I really wanted to discuss somethings. So this review is kinda gonna be slightly unorganized but I’ll do my best and I’m really sorry about Precuruary again not being this year. This past year has been whoo! Just yeah...Anyway! I will try to be more active when I can be but I can’t make any promises right now. So onto the review! 

I know every year I’ve said that each precure seems a little better than the previous ones in some aspects. Like for example, Star Twinkle I felt was a little better than Hugtto in terms of overall enjoyment and characters, but it lacked developing the plot and the lackluster in the personality of the princesses. They could have had each princess have the certain traits expected from their signs such as Virgo being a perfectionist and Aries being hot tempered. 

Than again, maybe it’s cause I just think anything is better than Kira Kira! lol! I know I get a little harsh with that series. Given the other series that came before and after, can you blame me? There are better series than that. (In my opinion, anyway.)

Healin Good, I can definitely say this was a good ride for both plot, character, music and animation! Yes, the designs for the cures were a little lack luster and I still can’t help but get Cure Flora vibes from Grace, but eventually, I got used to it. In fact, while I know it was the anniversary of Yes Precure 5 Go Go!, I almost felt like they should have just made that into a separate movie and have Healin Good meet Go Princess since the cures there have a lot in common!

But of course being their own thing. They’re not copies of the GoPre girls, but they share definitely some things in common such as Cure Grace and Cure Flora’s flower theme, Cure Sparkle and Cure Twinkles love for fashion and star themes and Cure Fountain and Cure Mermaid for the water themes.

In terms of plot, it wasn’t like the most amazing plot ever, but it was decent and coherent. It was a serviceable plot that did the bare minimum and not be too crazy and outlandish and the morals at least made more sense unlike Twinkle. There was no getting grumpy dog people to learn to smile and be happy. 

Yes, the one thing that doesn’t make sense is how Cure Earth came to be and I will admit she as well as Fountain are the least interesting girls. I know people love Fountain/Chiyu! For me, blue cures have interesting stories but a personality that doesn’t fit it. They’re okay but I always feel like they’re just the cool kid that’s typically the responsible role model and nothing more, with the exception of Cure Marine and Cure Beauty, the later fits that role but she also has a bit more to her in terms of personality. The backstory for Fountain/Chiyu doesn’t make sense either. She sees the horizon line between the ocean and the sky and wants to jump that high. Then at first she’s just sees high jump as fun, which annoys a rival of hers and thus she’s pressured to like it more than just a school thing. It’s weird and almost complicated...

Cure Earth/Asumi is sorta a motherly kind of character since she’s in her 20s in appearance, but still a fish out of water. I’m glad they didn’t make her a teen so she had to go to school with the girls and she’s like the first adult main cure (Like I get Cure Flower, ancient cures and the Hugtto Cures, but I’m talking as in the main team member and not a side character type thing.) Which is nice, it shows that yes adults can be heroes. I mean we had adult superheroes all the time and the teen was just the less experienced side kick. 

As for personality, she’s a bit of a blank slate but I love her design! I know Green Cure and all wah, but hate to say it, the more people complain that there isn’t a green cure in every season, the more I’m kinda glad cause people get sooo uptight like they’re whitewashing a character or something. Like stop! It’s just a team color for Pete’s sake! Like even if they did her as a green cure, she’s kind of bland in personality so would you be happy with a green cure that’s sorta the blank slate?

I’m not saying she’s bad. She can be funny and it can be enjoying to watch her understand feelings and things since while an adult physically, she was basically born out of a whim and only knows how to talk and understand the basis of the Healing Garden as well as Princess Latte and Queen Teatinu. Shoot, she couldn’t even eat on her own.

My two favorite characters by far have to be Nodoka aka Cure Grace and Hinata aka Cure Sparkle. Hinata is just a fun character. She’s emotional, got a go getter attitude and I like the fact she’s into fashion but isn’t over the top annoying or particularly snobby, kinda like Cure Twinkle but different that Cure Twinkle has more of a professional attitude and higher skills, while Cure Sparkle is a bit clumsy and overly excited about everything. She has insecurities and flaws but thanks to Nodoka and Nyantoran, she gets over these rather quickly.

As for Nodoka, I know people are disappointed that her illness turned out nothing more than Daruzen, I don’t blame them for going this route. Yes, it kinda gives an unrealistic impression that the disease just simply needs to jump out of someone and they’ll be okay. I can’t help but think it might have backfired especially given the time since we had the you know what virus. So many kids were watching their families get destroyed and while, yes, it would be good to teach kids to stay strong and fight through it and that it takes time for people to recover fully, it could also be too overbearing for them as well if they happen to have a loved one who is sick or they themselves and are just constantly reminded of the suffering.

Put it short, there’s kind of no best way around it. You can either do it this way and there might be some kids that think well the virus can just jump out or do it the other way and risk kids getting depressed and anxious, which would be bad as depression and anxiety in kids has risen a lot since 2020. For me, I think kids are smarter than we give them credit. They are gonna be aware that stuff in cartoons/anime works differently than in the real world, so I feel like the route they took was better. It was already risky having the main character be sick and being put in the hospital to begin with.

With that being said, Nodoka is a good character for more reasons than her being sick and fighting an illness. She wants to be supportive because she needed support. Just because her illness turned out to be some alien germ from another dimension, doesn’t make her desire to help any less meaningful. She did suffer a lot, fought through pain and suffering through an unknown amount of time. Just cause she healed miraculously doesn’t make her suffering not real and her inspiration and influence on others less so.

Bottom line, it doesn’t matter how she healed, she still suffered, got inspire by those who helped her and thus inspired those to work hard on getting better. The message is still there.

But there is another thing that makes her special and that is when Nodoka told Daruzen off! That alone was the most inspiring thing ever done in a Precure series in a LONG time! It’s not just her standing up to a bully. She stood up to her abuser! And yes, I do like Daruzen and at first I thought they would be a cute couple, but I will admit when Daruzen took things too far and as someone that’s been sexually harassed and known people who were forced on, I can’t push forward with the ship or Daruzen for that matter. 

When Daruzen needed help, Nodoka pushed him away and then he outright made her feel bad about it. “I thought you were about helping others.” This is a tactic used by abusers, taking advantage of the kindness their victim usually has and congrats to Rabirin for being the best partner to a Precure. 

Nodoka holds no responsibility for Daruzen. He used her thus abused her, he caused so much pain not only onto her but to those around her. Put it short, Nodoka doesn’t owe Daruzen anything! That to me is one of the most important lessons to teach anyone especially young kids. It’s good to teach others to be kind and forgive folks, but if you don’t want to than don’t especially if they have done nothing but hurt you. Your health including mental health comes first above all else. It’s not selfish especially if the one needing help was selfish first and didn’t think about you in the long run.

So as much as I think that Daruzen X Nodoka could have been cute, I can’t help but applaud Toei for going this route instead. Especially these days, I feel it’s really important teach kids that it’s okay to think of what’s best for you, including putting a limit on helping people and setting boundaries. I’ve known even family members and friends that were in this situation where they had to stop helping someone, because that person took advantage of them and they had to put their foot down, cause they had to finally think of their own health and well being. It’s not selfish. It’s important to take care of yourself first!

Speaking of mascots, all the mascots are useful including Latte, which is the main mascot that is in peril the most since the villains make her sick. However, she is far from a passive pup as some people pass her off as. She does know when to put her paw down and even in the midst of her suffering, she does try when she can to help. Even go as far as refusing Nodoka’s care until she and Rabirin settle their differences to work together. She also has the ability to sense when the earth needs help and is the only animal that can do this. She also refuses Cure Earth’s/Asumi’s overly servitude towards her, showing she knows when to speak out about her own well being. True Latte doesn’t get too much to shine but when she does it’s rather welcomed.

Normally with mascots, I don’t care for them since they tend to be typically one note. The mascots for Healin Good are all memorable with their own personality  and they grow along side their respected cures. The only mascots I know that grew a lot was Yes! Precure 5/Go! Go’s Coco, Nuts and Milky, Go Princess Precure’s Aroma and Puffu. Mofurun only showed much growth in the movie where they became a cure. Though Mofurun is still more useful than the mascots in Kira Kira. (Yes, I will always take the opportunity to slam on that series!)

Speaking of Kira Kira...Oh boy. Well I was a little excited to finally have an ocean themed precure series with a mermaid, my excitement kinda dropped when I noticed the transformation compact and transformation. I’m gonna go a head and review the first episode since I watched it. 

I’ll first start off the with positives and move on to what I wouldn’t say are horrible things, but more so my overall concerns with it.

First, like others, I’m glad we got a lead cure that isn’t pink for once. This is a first since Splash Star Precure, whom I don’t think Cure Bloom counts. I mean in the first season, she kinda is pink, but then when she becomes Cure Bright her colors change so I kinda count her as being mix color, while Cure Dream was the first official Pink Cure.

I also like that while Manatsu/Cure Summmer is another happy go lucky type, she does have a bit more zest and isn’t the overall cutesy happy go lucky cures we’ve come to know. She’s different from Cure Star and Cure Yell, in which she’s happy go lucky in a more of a hot headed sense, than the cute, been bullied but still brave kid which was Cure Star and Yell.

Manatsu/Summer reminds me of Lina Inverse from Slayers and other similar red head characters from that era, which makes sense she is a red head. (Least Manatsu is).

The transformation and battle scenes are better too. I was worried that because the pact and start of the transformation looked so similar to Kira Kira, I was worried it would be exactly the same but it’s different enough it seems. My only gripe is that maybe Cure Summer’s final pose at the end for her transformation sequence could have been a bit more dramatic. Her pose look lack luster compared to the rest of her transformation.

The animation in Cure Summer’s attack is amazing but the 3D part of is a little distracting somewhat. I feel like the sun could have been done in 2D. Other than that, animation is gorgeous! Bright and colorful with nice detailing within the characters and background.

I also can’t help adore Cure Coral/Sango’s design and character. She hasn’t appeared that much, but already I kinda already adore her! She’s so precious and I can tell she’s already gonna be a fan favorite among many! I also like how she seems sweet and quiet but isn’t shy either. She’s rather just down to earth, just doing her own thing but still being polite. Refreshing take especially on a purple cure!

Now onto my issues with it. Starting with a bit too many similarities to Kira Kira such as the transformation pact and the overly energetic, silly theme. I don’t mind silly when it’s balanced out right. For me, it’s a bit too crazy and kinda the issue I had with Cure Princess and sometimes Cure Marine. I get that it’s about motivation VS procrastination. I hope they work it out to teach kids there’s an importance of both. Just teach that you need a bit of balance. Right now, it’s just not. Manatsu kinda gets on my nerves a little bit and then you have Laura...

I kinda have mix feelings about Laura. On one hand, I do relate to her. She’s a little vain and I like the fact that despite being a main character, she’s actually quite selfish! Her whole desire to do this mission is out of hope that she’ll be the next Queen, which apparently, the current Queen isn’t her mom I guess, but she’s chosen to be in line and she seems to want to be Queen simply for the selfish reason to be praised and adored, not cause she wants to help her people. I like this for the fact that it makes her far different from Cure Milky/Lala, whom many have said she was probably a little too responsible for her age, but I digress, Lala/Cure Milky is one of my favorite cures. 

What I’m concern is the fact that Laura will outshine the cures and take over the spotlight especially when she becomes a Cure. There’s no denying this will happen especially since it’s been confirmed the Midseason Cure is called Cure Le Mer, which is her last name. She seems to already outshine the mascot for the series Kururun, who is the first mascot to not meet the lead cure in the first episode because the poor thing barely gets any screen time!

I noticed this especially when the products for the series came out that Kururun is barely in any of the merchandise. I guess after focusing so much on the mascots for three seasons, having at least one be the token mascot to save all humanity, they decided “Eh, lets just make a mermaid the star seller and just have the mascot be squeezed in for those who want a stuffed animal.”

I get that the Midseason cures tend to take over the spotlight anyway, but I don’t always agree. Cure Scarlet and Cure Earth kinda grew along side the other cures. Taking time for both them and another Cure or character to shine as well. With Laura, because she’s already part of the group, hopefully won’t  outshine  the cures, but being how much they merchandise and show her off, it’s looking a bit bleak for anyone who isn’t Manatsu/Cure Summer when Cure Le Mer takes the stage.

I also fear since the series was announce that Asuka/Cure Flamingo maybe too much like Cure Chocolate given how her design is similar. I love her design, her’s is my favorite design of the bunch, but you can’t deny she looks like Cure Chocolate with longer hair. I hope they give her and the other cures more personality and growth especially before Laura becomes a cure.

Other than those gripes, I don’t hate it and do like some things about it. Maybe I’m just used Healin Good’s more relaxed theme that I’m kinda skeptical for this more wild, eccentric series. Maybe it will grow on me in time. Hoping it does since as said, been wanting an ocean themed Precure series with mermaids in it for a looong time!

Without further a due, I give Healin Good Precure 8 out of 10 stars. Won’t rate Tropical Rouge Precure until the end of the season. Seeya in the next review!

8 Stars Level: “Great!”

[queenmuzz]

Angst hit me like a freight train

A possible future fic.  An AU where Vergil falls to hell, encounters Mundus, but manages to escape using Yamato before being captured.  He ends up on Fortuna, and meets his son, a five year old Nero.  For three years, they’re both on the run from a very angry Mundus.

Nero wakes up that morning, hoping that his father will be in the other bed beside him, but unfortunately, it's still perfectly made.  This is his third morning he’s woken up alone.  His dad has never been away this long before.  Once or twice, he would assure the eight year old that he had to go out during the night, and to stay put in whatever motel room they were staying at.  And Nero would obey.  He would always obey.

But now, as he opened the little fridge to pick out the final yogurt cup, and the last bottle of orange juice, the eight year old is starting to really worry.

Ever since his dad showed up out of nowhere when he was stuck in that horrible orphanage, on that terrible island, Nero’s life finally has stability.  Sure, he and his dad have to stay on the run, because of someone called Mundus chasing him, but for the first time, he’s not anxious, not worried that his misbehaviour will send him back to the scary building.  His dad had assured him of that.  

“No matter what, Nero, I will never abandon you.”

But then, three days ago, he’d been in the park, playing on the playground while his dad read a book.  Just when he had climbed to the top of the jungle gym, his father had barked at him to come down.  Nero obeyed, he would always obey.

He’d never seen his dad look so...scared, which was silly, because his dad wasn’t scared of anyone or anything.  Nero had seen him cutting down demons like they were weeds.  But this time, it was a blonde woman, sitting on a motorcycle, watching them with uncommon interest that had his dad so nervous.  So nervous, that he did that thing that he never did in public, used his sword to cut the air, ushering Nero through, and quickly striding after him. “Nero,” he said as he peeked through a curtain, like he did whenever they came to a new motel room, to check to see if they were being watched. “I must take care of something.  Stay here, and do not leave until I return, understood?”

Nero had nodded.  His dad sometimes did this, to keep them both safe.  But still, Nero ran and gave him a hug, before his dad created another hole, and vanished through it.  That was the last time Nero saw him.

The rest of the day was fine.  Nero read his books, played with his action figures, ate a sandwich and went to bed at 8:30 PM sharp, as he always did.  His dad didn’t show up the next day, so he’d repeated his activities, but had a little more trouble paying attention to the words on the page.

The second morning, he kept getting distracted, his head perking up each time he heard footsteps outside the room.  But still nothing.

The third day, Nero didn’t play or read, he just sat on the edge of the bed, waiting for his dad’s return.  He had to be coming back, he promised!  Even though he went to bed at the same time as always, he didn’t fall asleep until late at night.

And now, with the fridge out of food, and no sign of his dad, Nero is panicking. His dad told him that he’d never leave him, but what if Nero had made him mad?  Did his dad think he was a bad kid, and didn’t want him anymore, just like those other foster families?  The thought of being abandoned yet again makes him want to cry.  But he can’t, nobody wants a kid that cries, that’s what the matrons always told him. 

Nero makes a decision, he needs to go out to find him.  Sure, his dad  told him to stay here, but if he can beg him to give Nero another chance, his dad might forgive Nero and let him stay with him.  So, grabbing a backpack with his stuff, and a little bit of money his father had given him to buy ‘whatever he’d like’ (Nero couldn’t decide what we wanted, he didn’t want to disappoint his dad by buying something silly), he leaves a note, just in case.

Dear Dad

I am looking for you

I am sorry!

Nero.

And as quietly as his dad, he leaves the room.

*****

Several hours later, Nero realizes he’s lost.  Everyone walks around him, as if he doesn’t exist, and he’s scared and hungry.  But there’s something, a feeling that guides his feet.  He doesn’t know what or why, but he trusts it, it kinda reminds him of his dad.

It leads to a diner, the smell of charcoal grilled burgers making his mouth water.  He has enough money left, hopefully his dad won’t be angry that he’s spending it on food.  But, just like his dad, he looks through the window, to see who’s in there, if there’s any danger inside.  

There’s nearly no one there.  Just a waitress at the bar, and only two customers, a woman with short dark hair, sitting on a stool beside a taller guy with...white hair!

His dad!  The man turns to the lady to say something, so Nero can see his face and yup, it has to be his dad!  Forgetting about the grumbling in his stomach, he rushes in, opening the door with such for, the door chime is ripped off the little string it is hanging on,

“DAD!” He yells, and before his father can turn, he rushes and hugs his leg.  “I’m sorry dad, I’m sorry!  Please don’t leave me!” he babbles, trying not to cry, “I promise I’ll be good, I’ll eat all my vegetables, I’ll brush my teeth as many times as you want me to, I won’t play with toys under the covers when I’m supposed to be sleeping.  Please let me stay with you!”

He half expects to be pushed away, to be rejected again.  But instead, as he looks up, he just sees three pairs of eyes, shocked.  The waitress looks at him sympathetically, the lady with two different coloured eyes looks at him with surprise, and his dad?  His blue eyes are filled with alarm, but there’s no recognition in them.  And the more Nero looks at him, the more he realizes the man, while looking a lot like his dad….isn’t.  He’s wearing red instead of blue, carries a gun, and his sword is a lot bigger.

And now he’s terrified. His dad told him that Mundus sometimes uses people that look like other people to trick him, and Nero now understands.  He makes a frightened squeak, and runs out of the diner.  He barely hears the not-dad call out ‘Kid!’

He runs, to where? He doesn’t know.  He pushes people out of the way as he sprints as fast as his legs can take him, running across busy streets, ignoring the angry honks of cars.  He needs to get away from the man that looks, but doesn’t look like his dad.

Unfortunately, he runs into an alleyway that’s blocked by construction equipment.  As he pauses to figure out how to climb over it, a pair of gloves grab him, and he struggles against him.

“LEMEGO LEMEGO!” he screams, but the grip is unyielding. “Kid...calm down..calm down..” the man who’s pretending to be his dad holds him tightly.  “I’m not gonna hurt you.”

Nero knows his father isn’t nearby, but he still can’t help it. “DAD!  DAD!  COME BACK!  DON’T LEAVE ME!”  And as his struggles weaken, his resolve does too, and he starts sobbing.  “I’m sorry dad...I didn’t mean to be bad.”

“Shhhh…”  the man says softly as he starts carrying him out of the dank alleyway “I promise I’m not going to hurt you…”  And for some reason… even if the man is not his dad, his voice is just as soothing.

[futuristicallyspeedyparadise]

Waiting For You (Jack x Zhao Zi Story) Chapter 1

“Zhao Zi, if you stare any harder at the door, it will burst into flames.”

Zhao Zi lurched back into reality, ripping his eyes away from the kitchen door to look at Yi Qi’s brown eyes glittering in amusement.

“Why are you so insistent on knowing the new chef? Given our experience with the last few, I would’ve thought you would want to steer clear of that kind of demented folk.”

Perhaps it had just been bad luck, but the restaurant’s endless parade of chefs had resulted in slight trepidation amongst the waitstaff about who the newcomer would be. The chef before this one had the habit of throwing literal knives when someone or something pissed him off. The one before that had emotional breakdowns every once in a while and would lock themselves up in the walk-in freezer for half an hour. And not to mention the one who used the kitchen pantry as his own personal food supply. He would “shop” for items, often the expensive stuff like truffles and Wagyu beef, and take them home to host parties; when being ousted he remained adamant that he hadn’t been stealing.

Each of the previous chefs had cooked spectacularly, but their inability to handle the pressure--or their literal thievery--had made the restaurant owner Tang Yi fire them without hesitation.

Zhao Zi turned fully towards the table again and tucked into his French onion soup. The restaurant’s kitchen was massive, filled with different food stations and prep tables galore. In the corner away from the action, was an area where wait staff could grab food or take their scheduled break. One of the perks of working at the restaurant was that they would occasionally receive free meals. Zhao Zi, a self-identified foodie, could not have been any happier with that particular perk. Sometimes he was able to eat dishes that people had to pay hundreds to eat, for free.

“I’m just curious as to who the new chef is going to be. I mean, c’mon Yi Qi. You know we’ve had quite a string of bad luck.”

“Well...you don’t have to tell me that,” Yi Qi muttered, rubbing her wrist distractedly. Her wrist had been the unfortunate receiver of the last knife that had been thrown by the previous chef. She had not been the intended target, but some things could not be forgiven. When Tang Yi, the owner, heard the news, he had dismissed the chef on the spot and assured Yi Qi that any medical expenses would be paid. Yi Qi had worn a protective band on her wrist for a month and now had a shiny scar to show for it.

“I wonder what their specialty is? I don’t know how we stay afloat. Our menu changes every time a new chef parades through this door!”

“I think that has become the novelty of it. Everytime we fire a chef and the media gets a hold of it, they start conducting polls on what our next specialty food will be.”

“I mean you can’t fault Tang Yi. Whether they are crazy or not, he does find the top people in the culinary field,” Yi Qi agreed.

Tang Yi, their boss, was a no-nonsense restaurant owner. He came out of nowhere a few years before and opened this restaurant, somehow managing to curate the top talent in the field. People wondered how a nobody could convince top chefs, sous-chefs, maître d’s and sommeliers to abandon their posts and come join his restaurant; given Tang Yi’s dubious past—it was rumored he had been affiliated with the gang activity—many figured it had been blackmail.

Despite that, or perhaps because of all the mystery, Trapped surged to the top of every national restaurant list and garnered many recognitions and awards. It’s ever changing and experimental menu, mostly due to the revolving door of chefs, kept it fresh. Though the food changed, the quality certainly did not slip. Zhao Zi had to interview extensively to be a waiter at the restaurant. It was a position that many people in the service industry, from long-time waiters to culinary students, vied for because it included great pay and benefits as well as the chance to work for the culinary greats.

Zhao Zi sighed. He loved working here at the restaurant. Despite the occasional uppity customer who felt they were too rich to have decent manners, he enjoyed the clientele and enjoyed ensuring that they had a great experience. Plus the staff at the restaurant was like family, something that was nice to have given that he had no actual family.

He had lost his parents when he was very young and had grown up with his grandmother. His grandmother, a small but feisty woman, always made sure that he was well taken care of. She put him through school, and encouraged his love for food blogging and consumption. He missed his grandmother’s cooking the most. She made the most wonderful feasts, plates full of steaming, richly flavored food that warmed his stomach and soul.

Stricken with a bout of pneumonia, she passed away a couple of years ago in her sleep.

The door to the kitchen creaked open, and Zhao Zi’s head whipped around to see who had come in. He groaned when he realized it was just Jun Wei, another waiter.

The kitchen staff knew the identity of the new chef; they had had some closed-kitchen training with them to work out the new menu and how the kitchen would be run under their direction. However, it was a tradition for the kitchen staff to not reveal the identity of the new chef to the waitstaff, and legally mandatory for them not to leak information to the press. Tang Yi had made them sign non-disclosures even before the parade of chefs began. Though they had a legal obligation not to, the staff knew that helping drive the media into a speculation frenzy helped garner the restaurant free publicity and more clients which meant a prosperous business. They also just loved to take part in the fun.

“So, sorry to disappoint,” Jun Wei said sarcastically as he made his way over to Zhao Zi and Yi Qi. The waiters at Trapped all wore black button down shirts, black slacks and a black vest. Jun Wei was tall, with an athletic build and wore his uniform well. When he drew close, he reached out to ruffle Zhao Zi’s hair.

“Stop it!” Zhao Zi cried, fending him off. “You know the boss will kill me if he sees my hair like this,” He dropped his spoon, reaching up to pat down his hair. Jun Wei laughed and took up the seat next to Yi Qi. A line-cook came by and dropped off a bowl of soup in front of him; Jun Wei thanked them gratefully.

The cooks in the kitchen and the waitstaff had a mutual respect for each other. They understood that they needed to work cohesively in order to run the restaurant well. Their boss wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Has the dining room been set yet or do they need help?” Zhao Zi asked Jun Wei. He finished off his soup bringing over the bowl to the sink for cleaning.

“I think you might want to go out there and help out a bit. Hong Ye looks a bit...peeved.”

Hong Ye was the restaurant’s maître d. She was a formidable character, strong in personality and with very high standards. She was Tang Yi’s sister and together they ran the restaurant like a pair of benevolent dictators.

Zhao Zi nodded, already heading towards the door. As he was about to push out the doors, someone pushed them in and Zhao Zi jumped back to avoid being hit. The person who walked through the door was...different. He had red wine-colored hair, a black leather jacket and boots to match. He was tall and lithe. His face was nothing short of elegant, a beautifully carved Adonis with a smirk.

“I am so sorry, sir!” he squeaked.

The man’s smirk grew wider.  “No need to apologize.”

“How can I help you, sir?” Zhao Zi asked, with a slight bow. It was a habit to address all clientele as ‘sir’ and ‘madam’ or ‘miss.’ He figured that having gotten past Hong Ye, this person was surely some kind of business partner on his way to chat with Tang Yi. He wasn’t dressed like a businessman, but Tang Yi’s visitors were rarely corporate looking characters.  They were often older gangster looking types, or young ones who came with their chests puffed out looking for Tang Yi and referring to him as “boss.” This one however, with his green leather jacket, simple white t-shirt and motorcycle helmet in hand was definitely one of the more interesting ones.

“Do you call everyone, sir, or is that one particularly reserved for me, shorty?” The redhead asked, smirk still in place.

Zhao Zi blushed. Sure he was practically a head shorter than the man who was standing unbearably close, but it hadn’t been necessary to point it out.

“I...uh—”

“You can follow me,” came a deep voice from behind him.

Zhao Zi turned, hearing Tang Yi’s voice. Tang Yi wore a soft gray cashmere shirt and black slacks, a rich man’s simple daytime outfit. Tang Yi turned and walked back towards his office, clearly expecting the newcomer to follow him.

“Sure thing, boss.” The man said, moving around Zhao Zi to follow Tang Yi. They went into Tang Yi’s back office, which Zhao Zi had only been to once, during his interview. It was a beautiful room, decorated in splendorous dark woods and emerald accents. It was truly a gentlemen’s den. Zhao Zi let out a breath and pushed through the doors to the dining room to see how he could help.

---

Hong Ye wasn’t necessarily mean when she told someone off, but rather she was incisive. She chose her words carefully, ensuring that each word held its own weight and cut the person to their core.

She gazed about the dining room in disgust.

“So far we have fallen in our standards it would seem,” she said in an emotionless, measured tone. “Dust on the wine bottles, crumbs on the floor. Wine glasses on the wrong side of the table. Did you think I would not notice?”

She gazed at the staff. A beautiful woman standing at just over five feet, her stature did not stop her from seemingly towering over anyone. She wore a white billowy shirt, with draped arms and simple black pants.

“If you think for a second I would not fire all of you in a heartbeat then I’ve clearly haven’t made myself clear enough. Perhaps I have been too soft.”

The dining room was in a state of slight disarray. They had just changed the decor and some of the details were still being worked out. Zhao Zi liked the new look. Just like their food, the restaurant underwent certain changes to match the style of the new chef.

Looking around Zhao Zi was able to learn a little bit about the chef who would soon join them. Whereas before the restaurant had adopted the sophisticated golds and burnt oranges that matched their emphasis on Thai food, now the room was decorated in swathes of red with accents of greens, yellows and blues. The room took on a more intimate and private feel with dimmer lighting; it invited introspection and commiseration. Zhao Zi was reminded of the temples he and his grandmother would visit while growing up.

Perhaps the new chef had an affinity for traditional Taiwanese culture? Zhao Zi couldn’t help but feel a slight disappointment. It didn’t seem like they would be getting any exotic foods with this new chef.

Hong Ye disrupted his thoughts by barking out a list of orders and so they spent the rest of the day fixing up the dining room, rearranging again and again the furniture and decor in order to satisfy Hong Ye’s vision. The restaurant was closed to the public this week in order to prepare for the debut of the new chef, so they worked until Hong Ye was satisfied.

Sometime later in the evening, collapsing on to a chair, Jun Wei groaned, “I am so tired. Man, at least we get to eat.”

That was another perk of working at Trapped. All new chefs cooked a full meal for the wait staff thereby making them always the first to fully try the restaurant's new menu. Tang Yi might have been an emotionless, mysterious boss, but he was a good one.

Zhao Zi was nearly bouncing in his seat; he was always excited when it came to trying out the new menu. He often raced home afterwards to update his food blog. He wrote his thoughts and feelings about the food, tried to describe the flavors accurately and fairly and described how the decor tied in with the food and the mood it established. He was careful to not post his accounts until after the restaurant debuted its new chef to the public; he wrote anonymously and was careful to avoid any details that would identify him as one of the staff.

Zhao Zi had quite a following. He received a lot of correspondence from newspapers and magazines inviting him to join their staff or asking for an interview. It was tempting, but Zhao Zi truly loved his coworkers and the ability to have an inside look at the unique restaurant. He loved watching it come together, each piece necessary to its core: Tang Yi’s curation of staff, Hong Ye’s organization, the kitchen staff’s passion and the waitstaff’s excellence. Each review he wrote about the restaurant was like a letter of deep appreciation to his family, because at the end of the day, that’s what they were. The reviews, however, did not shy away from critiquing the food, and were honest about any faults that were found.

Hong Ye thanked them for their hard work and instructed them to sit down. It was time. From the kitchen doors came first Tang Yi who somehow still managed to look put together and unaffected after a long day of work. Behind him came the new chef.

It was the red-haired man.

Zhao Zi’s eyes widened as he took in the new chef’s apparel. He wore a black chef’s jacket with a red trim that seemed as if it had been tailored. It hugged his body like a glove, showing off his athletic form. The man walked casually behind Tang Yi, a casual smirk in place. They stood at the head of the dining room.

“Thank you all for your hard work today.” Tang Yi began his speech, his deep voice carried across the room. He truly had an impenetrable expression. The only time Zhao Zi had seen him crack a smile was with Hong Ye and even that had happened three years ago. “In order to thank you for bringing his vision to life and for the future work on which you will embark together, our new chef has created a menu for us to dine on tonight. You will find the new menu in the booklets in front of you. Please order as you wish.”

The first dinner with the staff was not only a thank you, but also a test to the new chef. It was their chance to command the kitchen fully. They hired extra wait staff for the occasion so that Trapped’s staff could enjoy their meal. As a reward for the night's hard-work, Tang Yi would in turn treat the kitchen staff to dinner at some of the leading restaurants in Taiwan. Cold he was, but benevolent.

“Before you start, our chef would like to say a few words.”

The redhead stepped up beside Tang Yi and greeted them all with a grin. “Hello,” he said, his voice smooth, low, and rich. Zhao Zi swore he heard some of the women and men swoon in response. Yi Qi’s cheeks immediately turned bright red. He himself even felt a slight swooping sensation in his stomach that he decidedly ignored.

“My name is Jack. You may refer to me as Chef Jack.”

Jack was an odd name. Zhao Zi wondered whether the chef had spent some time abroad. Plus, did he not have a last name?

“Today I have prepared a traditional Taiwanese menu, with my own personal touches. I hope you enjoy it.”

He nodded and led the way back to the kitchen to start the service.

“Taiwanese, huh,” Yi Qi said as they all turned back to the table. A low murmur was already filling the room. They opened the menu and were scandalized. “But...but this looks like the kind of food you would get at a corner shop! Why would anyone want to pay top dollar for this?”

Zhao Zi had to agree. The menu items weren’t particularly exciting, but perhaps the execution would be. He settled for a bowl of beef noodle soup. You could tell a lot about a chef by how they executed the simplest of dishes. Beef noodle soup was common, but every restaurant and food-stand had their own closely guarded recipe that made the dish their own. Zhao Zi was interested to see the chef’s take on it.

Orders taken, the team settled into their seats, wine in hand.

“I wonder what made Tang Yi go for this guy,” Yi Qi questioned. She lifted the glass of white wine to her lips. “Has anyone ever heard of him? At least we had heard about the others.” She looked at Zhao Zi in particular, seeing as he was the one who always displayed more knowledge about the industry.

“No,” he shrugged. “But Tang Yi has never failed us before..”

Jun Wei peered at him. “You are not as excited about this menu as I’ve seen you be at other times.”

Zhao Zi laughed. “Yeah, it’s a bit difficult to be excited about something I can get anywhere. Plus no one can beat my grandma’s beef noodle soup. Not even a top chef, or whatever this guy is.”

“You sure?” Jun Wei challenged, a growing grin taking over his face. He nodded towards the food that was now exiting the kitchen. “We will find out soon enough.”

When Zhao Zi’s beef noodle soup was set in front of him, he couldn’t help but feel a little impressed. Plating up an appealing looking soup was always a challenge and the chef’s arrangement of this one was stunning. The broth was dark and rich, contrasting greatly with the white noodles. The bok choy was a deep green and accented by the light green scallions sprinkled across the top. The beef was sliced thinly and served on top of the noodles. Zhao Zi saw hints of red flakes, indicating the soup would come with heat.

He stuck his chopstick in and pulled out a wad of noodles. They were well cooked with a slight firmness. Zhao Zi brought the noodles to his mouth.

A moan escaped him.

Jun Wei and Yi Qi stopped and looked at him with raised eyebrows. Zhao Zi flushed a deep red, quickly chewing up the noodles.

“That good, huh,” Jun Wei laughed.

Zhao Zi nodded, but had no words. He continued to dig into the soup, enjoying the tenderness of the beef contrasted by the structural fidelity of the noodles. The hint of licorice flavor in the soup was perfect and there was something else, something Zhao Zi couldn’t pinpoint quite just yet, that tied the whole thing together.

His grandmother had been an expert at making beef noodle soup. She had her own recipe and made it for him constantly. It was his comfort food. So he wondered what was the story behind this meal. Despite its clear appeal to the palette, a symphony of tasty perfection, he felt something was missing. Something that told a story and gave a hint as to who Jack was.

The team enjoyed their meal. Yi Qi praised her vermicelli oyster soup and Jun Wei had a second order of soup dumplings.

“Well I guess you were right. Tang Yi didn’t let us down. That was amazing,” Yi Qi said. “The public won’t know what hit them.”

After dinner, they always completed anonymous surveys that were given to the chef. While he knew most of the staff praised the food, he often tried to give good constructive criticism. For his beef noodle soup, he wrote: Amazing soup with a deep, rich flavor and delightful hint of licorice. A flavorful adventure. However, I can’t help but wonder, where’s the story? What are you trying to say?

Zhao Zi knew that previous chefs had never responded to their critiques. Oftentimes they thought themselves above the staff, an unfortunate result of early career success and zero-humility. He wondered if this chef would be the same.

When he got home that night, he stepped into his house and felt...alone. Putting his things away, Zhao Zi slipped into his pajamas, a big t-shirt and soft sweat pants before walking over to the little alter he kept for his grandmother and lighting a candle for her. “Nǎinai, I had some pretty amazing beef soup today. World class,” he whispered to her. “It still wasn’t as good as yours.” He bowed his head and stood up, making his way upstairs to bed.

--- Back in the kitchen, Jack looked over the survey responses that had been submitted by the waitstaff. A lot of them expressed the fact that they had been surprised at the simplicity of the menu, but were blown away by the food. Good. Jack liked surprising people with the unexpected.

He knew he didn’t necessarily carry himself like a professional chef, and that he was relatively unknown and would therefore be put under a lot of scrutiny, but Jack had no doubts that he would succeed in impressing the public. He would settle for nothing less.

“How did the staff take it?” Tang Yi asked, slipping into the seat next to him.

“I seem to have pleasantly surprised them.”

“I expect you to do the same to the critics.”

“I will, boss,” Jack affirmed. He pulled out one of the survey cards, “Do you know who this is?” Jack asked. Tang Yi took the card and read through it.

He smirked.

“What is your story then?”

Jack smiled back, coyly taking back the card and slipping it into his pocket. Tang Yi and him had met under unconventional circumstances. Tang Yi did not know much about Jack’s background, no one did, but in their time of interaction he grew to realize that Jack was amazing in the kitchen. Now he was using that to his advantage.

Jack stood and lazily saluted Tang Yi before slipping through the kitchen doors.

-------------------

I will be posting updates to this story on AO3.

[magioftheseas]

The President’s Poise

Day 2: Vision/Posture

Summary: A lot of his classmates relied on Murasame to keep them in check, but Murasame was only a person. He was just absurdly understanding, and even more absurdly patient.

Rating: PG

Warnings: None, really.

Notes: I actually rather like Murasame a lot. He’s probably the more “realistic” version of Naegi and it’s pretty sad. I mean I headcanon him to be pretty spectacularly different from Munakata because...reasons. And it’d be more interesting for the character. His relationship with Matsuda in particular hurts my heart a lot because you can tell Matsuda was pretty fond of him. Just...not fond enough...it seems. Oh. But this fic’s not angsty, actually. It’s probably the least angsty. Ironically.

***Alternate Ao3 Link***

Commission? Donate?

“Matsuda-kun? Are you awake?”

The question is asked quietly, just in case. Matsuda even hears the careful shutting of the door, also quiet. Twitching, face still buried in his arms against the table, he elected to not answer. Silence was golden, after all.

Even so, Murasame still stepped up to him, shifting from one foot to the other. A nervous tick the other had. There’s the rustling of papers and, oh. So, that’s why the Class President was bothering him when it was generally agreed among their class that he be left alone most of the time.

Matsuda let out a heavy sigh. Murasame’s response was a good-natured and apologetic chuckle.

“Sorry, it’s just plans for the school festival. Even if we don’t see much of each other, we’re still on the class roster and I think it’s important to ask everyone’s opinion on this.” Murasame paused to look over Matsuda’s desk where he tried to sleep. His cordial expression twisted with a wary grimace. “You really should tidy this up.”

“As long as I know where everything is, it’s no big deal,” Matsuda snapped, waving his hand. “Don’t be such a worrywart. There’s enough in the world that’s actually kinda stressful. The fact that we’re still expected to partake in inane high school activities for the sake of a salivating crowd, for instance. We’re all monkeys dancing for those old fucks’ coins.” He snorted in disgust. “I say have the Ultimate Pyrotechnic rig the entire school to burn to the ground. That would at least be worthwhile.”

“It would also be an act of terrorism, Matsuda-kun,” Murasame pointed out dryly. Due to the lack of room on the desk, he stacked the pile of papers onto the spare chair pulled out. Like an idiot, he was left standing. “Having a sense of normalcy can be calming. Maybe instead of the steering committee, you can think of the students?”

“There’s not much to think about when I barely see them,” Matsuda replied. “In contrast I have to see those moldy mugs far, far too often.”

“That’s all the more reason to get involved. It’s much better to be around your peers than your—bosses. I guess.”

Finally, Matsuda lifted his head to give his classmate an actual look. Murasame still stood there, but his posture was straight. The kind of posture any teenager would take when trying to come across as an adult. Professional, mature, steadfast. The exact kind of image that Hope’s Peak wanted to portray.

He didn’t doubt that Murasame still felt anxious. Unsure. Maybe a bit intimidated, especially as Matsuda’s stare narrowed. When he decided to try and meet Murasame’s own gaze, those eyes ended up averting for a brief moment.

And after that moment, Murasame offered a welcoming smile. It reminded Matsuda of their hapless headmaster—and despite the instinctive distaste at such a comparison, he supposed that at least Murasame could still afford the sincerity that the adults here lacked.

“Hand they over,” Matsuda said, holding out his hand. “I guess I might as well read through them. Although there better not be false advertisement of a cat café in there. I’ll be pissed.”

“No animals,” Murasame reported as he gave him the papers. “Umesawa-san is still allergic to fur.”

“Tragic.”

With that, he did flip through. There were generic suggestions. A haunted house, fortune telling, a magic show, but nothing to do with food beyond the shitty maid cafe. There wasn’t much point to that when the opposite class had an Ultimate Cook and they didn’t. There were a couple actually related to talents. Dress-up contests, a plushie workshop, calligraphy painting...but obviously they couldn’t exactly go with something that only one of them excelled at.

These talents could be used for setting up the generic stuff. Murasame likely knows this. What is he hoping for, then? A list of ideas to try and squeeze into one project?

Now where have I heard that before?

Matsuda shook his head.

At least this guy is trying to make everyone happy.

“I have nothing to add,” he ultimately said. “From what I see, you’ve covered all your bases.”

Murasame laughed even though it wasn’t really meant to be funny. He must’ve laughed because he took it as a joke.

“I’ve found that’s usually impossible,” was the earnest, blunt reply. “Someone always ends up feeling a little disappointed.”

“Considering how hard you work, that person must be pretty entitled and bratty,” Matsuda said, unimpressed. “You’re just one guy. You can’t do everything.”

“Easy to say.” Murasame was still smiling, but while it was cordial as always, there was the slightest pinch in his brow. “Difficult to believe when people do expect everything from the Ultimate Student Council President.”

“I’m not expecting everything from you.” He lightly smacks the stack of papers to Murasame’s forehead. “I already know you’ll do fine.”

Murasame doesn’t seem all that convinced, but he nods along politely, taking the papers back.

“Thank you. It’s not often you’re encouraging, so I appreciate it.”

Matsuda whistled.

“Even you’re capable of a bit of bite. Well, you wouldn’t be much of a leader if you rolled over in every conflict.” He paused. “You wouldn’t be much of a person, either. Don’t hurt your back too much carrying this class.”

“I will likely have to speak with Tsumiki-san about health risks,” Murasame replied. “In the other class. That’s not too much trouble, is it?”

“I’m not friends with her,” Matsuda retorted. “But I do know she loves being useful, so you’d be doing her a favor, actually. Just be careful. She’s...and you’re...”

The thing is, Murasame’s a decent guy. If there’s anyone on this planet who’s good at avoiding making someone cry, it’s him. And Gekkogahara-sensei, obviously, but that’s a given. He should be fine, but...

He can’t help but worry. Because a lot of his classmates relied on Murasame to keep them in check, but Murasame was only a person. In spite of his talent and in spite of others who’ve had that talent before, Matsuda could tell that the guy was still...pretty normal. He wasn’t particularly charismatic, he wasn’t an oppressive personality, and he sure as shit wasn’t someone who’d work happily for Hope’s Peak while knowing all the terrible things they do. He was just absurdly understanding, and even more absurdly patient.

He could be very well destined to crumble, but Matsuda hoped not. The future could actually use people like him—but a broken world was much more likely to break other people than get fixed by the few good ones.

“It’ll be fun,” Murasame said, smiling. “The festival, I mean. Please think about attending, Matsuda-kun? I’d like to see you there.”

As long as this guy’s still standing, I guess there’s still some stuff to look forward to.

“Sure... Why not?”

[greenwaterskeeter]

College Advice

My brother was like, hey if you have any tips… So i wrote this! And then thought, there’s lots of people on tumblr just now going to college too…

Theres nothing in here about covid or making sure you have enough money– because i dont know anything about being a student during covid and i wouldnt give the same advice for getting money to everyone (and i wouldnt always know how anyway). I assume in the advice that the reader has enough money, because my brother does. That makes a big difference! Someone struggling for money wont have the bandwidth or time, probably, to do a lot of the stuff i advise. Edit: ugh i forgot, this is about US schools, specifically liberal arts US schools. Sorry about that!

Also, I didnt feel right taking the affection out of it once i decided to share it publicly. Help yourself! I may not have as direct an interest in your life, but there’s nothing in there i wouldnt wish for anyone going to college right now. (there’s also quite a bit that I think applies to anyone regardless of whether they do college or not).

Hi ******!

College Advice:

Work: No matter how important your work is or how much you have, take at least one day off a week. No schoolwork or working for money or any kind of work at all that day! (if it works better for you to take a half-day here and there instead of the whole day, that will do). More than one day is preferable, but there may come times when you have So Much To DO that sacrificing your free time doesn’t seem so bad and even one day off feels like too much.

I’m sure you’ve had plenty of this already, but people will keep telling you (by things they say and don’t say) that what you accomplish is the most important thing. It is not. What is most important is up to you– but I think it’s being your own authentic self. That’s complicated of course, but it boils down to: you already have everything you need in yourself, and keeping in touch with what you really truly want and love comes before everything. 

If you flunk out of school and all your nightmares come true and you still remember who you are, I will consider you to have succeeded. (but if you do forget– and so many things conspire to make you forget!– I will still be proud of you). 

GPA: It’s not the same as it was in high school! I won’t get into specific numbers because different schools have different ways of calculating it, and different rates of gpa inflation etc. It’s mostly bullshit. Unfortunately, if you want to go to graduate school, it is bullshit you have to pay attention to, but even then it’s not as all-important as it was in high school. You don’t need a 4.0, not even to become a doctor or a lawyer. A 3.5 or 3.6 is plenty for the highest ambitions, especially given that you’ll be doing extracurriculars. 

I would advise keeping half an eye on the numbers, and not straining yourself for even one additional 0.1 above your target, whatever you decide that is. If you decide not to do graduate school, you honestly could get any GPA as long as you don’t end up on academic probation (which i think goes on your permanent record? Or maybe not. I was on academic probation my last semester of senior year and i’m still not clear on whether it’s on the transcript somehow). After college, people only care that you have your bachelor’s, not what your grades were while you got it. They mostly won’t even care what the bachelor’s is in! It’s very strange, after all the work you’ve put in! (many of them only care that you had the money to go to school, very disappointing)

Extracurriculars: I did a lot of different ones, and still don’t feel entirely qualified to advise about them, because I hated most of them. My mistake was doing things I thought I should do instead of what I wanted to do. I think you should do what you want, even if there’s no existing group for the thing you want to do, for a few reasons. 1. You should enjoy yourself! Having fun is a very serious matter! Keeping the joy of living alive in your heart will make living feel worthwhile, of course, but it will also give you courage and the power to stick by your principles and keep pursuing your goals. 2. It doesn’t actually matter to graduate schools WHAT you did for extracurriculars; what they’re looking for is evidence for what kind of person you are, and they judge that that’s shown through HOW you do your extracurriculars (with commitment and integrity etc) rather than which ones you do. (even so, don’t let the “commitment” part keep you stuck in a soul-sucking activity!)

Choices: You’ll be told you’re supposed to choose your major on a certain timeline, do this and that and everything to very specific deadlines, all very proper. Of course, the more deadlines you meet, the easier things are. But on the other hand– human beings are not machines. You’re allowed to change your mind! Even after you were supposed to be sure! It’s much better to listen to your own misgivings and really look at them to figure out what you want as soon as you know they’re there rather than pushing them down in a panic because you’re not supposed to have them. If they’re ignored, they won’t go away, and they’ll eat at you, and one day they’ll ruin things. (this may be what midlife crises are made of). 

Friends: I know you have an established way of having friends, very different from mine, and that’s a good thing! I also know a lot of people take going to college as an opportunity to finally allow themselves certain things. There’s all kinds of takes on this, from putting on a poorly-done accent to binge drinking to coming out. It’s much better to stretch your legs this way than otherwise, I think. We need all the autonomy we can get! 

My advice here is: trust yourself. Listen to even your very quiet instincts. They’re there for a reason. You may elect to ignore them, but consider them first, and reject them afterwards if you must. The extreme end of this is Having A Bad Feeling. Listening to that has saved me from some sticky situations! A more mild form is the weird feeling of dissonance between you and an old friend. There are many reasons you may feel that, but unfortunately, in college, one of the most common reasons is that you’re becoming different people who aren’t so suited to being friends as your high school selves were. It’s painful! At the same time, it’s okay to love someone and not be together forever– but I suspect you already know that!

The one thing I would absolutely forbid is isolating yourself. It may seem impossible from where you are now, but that’s what I thought at the beginning too. College is a weird place, not exactly school and not exactly work and not exactly home, and it’s too easy to slip into anonymity. Tell your friends how you feel, good or bad! If you feel like you’re imposing on them, impose!! If they love you, they will prefer inconvenience over learning later that you were in pain and said nothing.

How to Learn: It’s true what they say, that teaching is the best way to learn. Your peers may not always welcome this– I was rather disliked in study groups for always explaining the answer, before I reined it in a bit (things were still awkward unfortunately! possibly for other reasons lol). Of course, other people’s jealousy isn’t your responsibility, and you may sow discord with your brilliance with my full blessing. If you’d rather not do that, my advice would be to become a tutor and/or TA in the subject(s) most important to you at your earliest convenience/whenever they allow you to. It really does make you an expert!

Humanities: They’re going to make you read a lot. Excessively, some might say! You’ll learn which readings are actually necessary to pore over, which ones you may skim, and which ones you may skip altogether. Please don’t feel guilty for not always doing all the reading! Almost no one does all of them. I didn’t even do all of them, and I was a stickler for Doing It Right.

Papers: my tricks are the Purdue OWL website (for brushing up on grammar, looking up how to do those goddamn finicky citation styles, seeing examples of finished papers in those styles), outlining, and rest time. Leaving time between drafts of a paper helps a lot! (that being said, I will be very surprised if you make it all the way through college without turning in at least a few first drafts. It’s not the end of the world, and if you’ve got a knack for it, the professors may not even know the difference! Very amusing). Reading through what you’ve written out loud also helps, however silly it may feel. It has to do with how your brain processes information, and hearing what you’ve written is different enough from seeing it that you’ll be more sensitive to errors and weirdnesses. 

STEM subjects: For these ones, it’s more important to do all the homework, because they may only give you one problem per concept. Be very literal about how you interpret things, that’s how folks in STEM usually expect you to think. Office hours are gold, if you can get them (and if the professor isn’t an ass). TAs are hit or miss. Readings are usually super important, relatively short, and can be read multiple times for more benefit.

General knowledge: Don’t forget to think critically! You’d think that’s all you’ll be doing, but in fact most professors only want you to regurgitate their own thoughts back to them. Very disappointing. However, that doesn’t have to stop you! You can always think: “Who benefits from this? What voices aren’t I hearing from in this story?” (even in STEM there are stories). “Why is this important?” In general, don’t stop asking questions! This is where I think true intelligence lies.

I’m sure you don’t need ALL of this advice– please don’t think I don’t think you know what you’re doing! I’m being a little over-cautious not because I don’t trust you but because if there’s any chance of my mistakes and accidental successes helping you do better than otherwise, I want to give all of them that opportunity. Kind of a shotgun approach!

All my love,

Autumn!

[pkmnsdarkqueen]

Drabble-So calls my heart to bad decisions. (Sinnoh)

Based on this , cause I can’t get it out of my head and I think it’d be funny to give mini versions of the crack ideas I said. Cut cause of length.

“You know as architecturally fascinating as this place is I think I like the Eterna base better.” “Wait seriously? All of the fun planning stuff that you love is here though. I mean we just read through notes in a lab about the lake guardians. That is your exact cup of tea.” “Yeah I knoooow but it was so much more dilapidated. How is this place still so clean?” “The various roombas might have something to do with it.”

Will chimed in as he stepped to the side to let another one slide by. When they talked to Cynthia she had mentioned the leader having an affinity for robots and machines which is why both Karen and Will hadn’t batted an eye at seeing a roomba in every room puttering around. 

Still Karen had expected it to be a bit more chaotic. I mean at least some wall paper starting to peel, a nick in a wall here and there, but no the place was just uncannily spotless. It made her wonder if anyone was still living there. They had encountered said issue before which had thankfully resolved itself. This time though she wasn’t so sure since as far as she knew they hadn’t met many Galactic members. 

Continuing in their exploits they both looked around the giant hall they’d entered. There wasn’t anything in the room except of course another roomba, guess they all were active this time of night, and a large podium area built into the room. As soon as they saw this Karen already knew what Will was about to say. 

“I want to get up there.” “Ok well let’s keep looking around and see if we can find stairs or another door, or-” “No way that’s lame, and these trips are for fun remember!”

Will cut her off running towards the wall starting to jump. The woman shook her head watching him miss the ledge by a long shot. Oh she already knew this wasn’t going to end well. 

“And how are you going to get up there from this room? That ledge is a whole you taller, and if you hadn’t noticed this place is stupidly minimalistic.”

She countered leaning against one of the walls to watch the show. He had moved from trying to jump it to knocking along the walls of the room. Personally she hoped he had taken her advice and was looking for a hidden stair case or something. Sure enough at one point there was a hollow thud causing both of them to perk up. Will grinned from ear to ear starting to see what objects he could manipulate. A hinge, a lock, some part of a door, and sure enough he was able to locate the spot to press on the wall. The panel cracked open with a small pop, and Will flung the door wide revealing chairs. Again practically spotless organized room with many stacks of chairs. 

“This is how.” “Oh this is going to be a bad idea.” “It is not ye of little faith! Watch me dazzle you with my genius.” “I’m going to tell Lance those were your final words before you broke your neck.”

Karen told him watching him use the dolly to position a stack by the wall. He could possibly reach now but looking at the chairs she wasn’t sure how steady taht tower would be. Sure they were your regular auditorium like chairs which was better than folding chairs, but as he said she was ye of little faith. 

“I’ll be fine, just be sure to catch me if I fall.” “No way, if I do that you’ll probably take both of us down. If you fall I’m going to say karma, and then laugh in your face.” “At least one of us will be able to laugh at my pain because I’m betting on a few broken ribs if I fail.” “How reassuring.”

Despite the shaking tower and general poor decision this was He was making progress. He always had the better sense of balance and so she watched silently as he grunted and huffed his way to the top of the stack. By the time he reached the top he had gotten the right height too, and was able to reach over to grab the lip of the wall. A few more scrambled moments and he had managed to crawl his way on to the other side giving a final kick to the chair pile which started to tip. HIs victorious pose of with two fisted hands in the air was met with the crashing applause of many chairs crashing to the floor. So much for this place being kept practically spotless. 

“You know I admire the grit that took, but question. You could of floated there Mr. Hi yeah so I’m psychic.” “I know but I want to save it in case we run into something or someone dangerous. Like what if this Cyrus guy has befriended Girintina right after getting sucked up in that world between worlds and he’s watching us right now with the weird science over there, gets mad we’re wrecking his stuff and BOOM!”

He emphasized smashing his fist on the short wall.

“Girintina and him burst through and attack us!” “I think that marathon of all the Godzilla movies followed by season one of Stargate SG1 was a bad idea.” “You’re just like killing my imagination.”

Will pouted having found a few pieces of paper to ball up one of which he threw at her. Easily it was caught by the woman who, out of curiosity started to unfold it. Huh, well this was interesting. 

“Hey Will the paper you tossed down looks like an old speech. Damn you know some of the phrases in here look familiar,’this is of upmost importance, you know the price of failure.’” “Secrecy is key, keeps your senses sharp, oooh I found the one I used to hear all the time! Don’t disappoint me.”

The elite mocked using an older deeper man voice to pull  a chuckle from Karen.

“Oh but you sure did disappoint, but not as badly as Sham and Carl did some days. We really outclassed them so soon after joining, you know they had every right to be mad at us for that.”

The woman chimed in remembering well the day they basically became the right hand men and pushing those two out of their place. Despite being both younger, and not around as long they were quite the trained soldiers. In retro-spect that was not a good thing, but in some weird way Karen still felt pride in that. 

“I’m sorry I think you mean Coral and Shoe which I remember him calling them once because he forgot their names. I fully agree that they had every right to be  mad at us. We were nothing but some dorks that showed up, I came already born with powers, you are just well, you’re yourself.” “You know normally you say that as an insult.” “And this time I mean it as a compliment because compared to those two you came in Black Widow even without training yet. Then next thing you know we’re top dogs, we manage to connect with legendary pokemon, and are given control to command them, we get trusted to guard the main plan in the end, and are openly the favorite. I don’t blame them for hating our guts as kids. To be fair we deserved that hate, and all the other hate we’ve gotten. It’s a good thing like came and kicked us in the nuts when it did because if it hadn’t I’m telling you right now we would of likely ran that branch of Rocket after Pryce up and zipped off!”

The psychic started to rant. It was always fun when he started this. It was like watching a comedy special done by a very well dressed individual, with the accompanying hand gestures and pacing. All it took was a little audience participation and he’d go on a roll. What better place for him to give a speech than here.

“Oh us run the joint, huh? Now this I want to hear.”

Karen encouraged seeing her friend grin as he straightened up. 

“Let me tell you then! Now we both know if we knew the real reason that garbage human being wanted our help, reunite a lapras with it’s family, we would of revolted!” “Revolted?” “I fucking said it! Viva la revolution, and everything because we both knew all the shit we’d gone through wasn’t worth THAT! So if you’d listened to me and backed off of Blue when ya did we would of had not one, not two, but three legendary birds, and Ho-oh and Lugia cause there is no way we’d give them back after finding out his big plan. SO we’d take those birds, we’d rally up some of the other Rocket members in the other districts who’d follow us cause we ACTUALLY would manage to have control over real legendary pokemon and played our cards right till we and our group were strong enough to take down the league.”

He stressed grabbing the edge of the concrete wall to lean in. 

“Cause when you put Karen and Will together we are such goddamn unstoppable forces not even Arceus can stop you and I.”

Karen was grinning watching him give his little motivational speech and clapped her hands shouting encore a few times to boost the dramatics of his little speech. He of course did not take this in a humble stride giving dramatic bows as if they had a large audience to entertain complete with blowing a kiss and pretending to weep. All dramatic exaggerations until one sweep of his hand and misstep seemed to be a bit too grand. Unaware there was more paper scattered on the ground his foot started to slip. HIs latest ‘thank you’ was cut short as he felt his weight go over the edge. Even grabbing it was no good as he started to tip. Karen stopped her applause once she saw this breaking into a run as she raced over to catch him. Although she too took a tumble after not seeing a chair by her feet. 

There was a crash as the chairs collided with each other again now with an added person. The one to land after skidding against the floor was Karen. Will floated above her giving a hiss knowing that had to hurt. 

“....well, now who forgot I could float.”

He muttered feeling her hand grab his ankle and yank him down. With concentration broken he fell the last half a foot. Ok maybe he deserved that.

“You know funnily enough I was about to swing the conservation to talking about how it’s a good thing we ended up where we are. Life has a way of kicking folks like us down a peg.....or in this case pride comes before fall.”

There was a long pause as Karen simply stared at him dead pan before shaking her head starting to laugh. Sure she was still bruised and so was he, but hey they might as well enjoy this laugh even if it was a stupid one. 

[365daysofsasuhina]

[ 365 Days of SasuHina || Day Two Hundred Seventy-One: Bewildering Experience ] [ Uchiha Sasuke, Hyūga Hinata ] [ SasuHina ] [ Verse: Best Years of Your Life ] [ AO3 Link ]

There’s certain social rules when it comes to high school. Navigating as many of them as you can means getting through those four years a little less scathed. While it’s tedious at best for most, there can still be moments that stand out positively for students. The typical dredgery of classes, homework, tests and exams have the occasional break in the monotony.

For Hinata, this is her final year. A senior at last, whittling at her schedule until graduation next Summer. A rather model student, her college is all picked out, major decided, and all that’s left is to get through this last batch of school days until...well, more schooling. But surely college won’t be nearly the task high school has been, right?

Well...so she hopes.

Hinata has always been a bit of a stereotype. The quiet, nerdy, shy girl...with a crush on the star of the basketball team. Fairly academic, she also branches into some of the more artsy institutions of her high school: choir, theater club, and the occasional art class. She even participates in volleyball and tennis. Her grades are top notch due to her diligence, and...lack of a social life, really. Her quietude means mostly being ignored by her classmates. A few like Sakura, maybe Ino, occasionally drag her along for something. But for the most part, she’s left to her own devices.

The only real talking she does is digitally. She texts, she IMs on Discord, lurks on social media...but she devotes most of her time and energy to her classes, clubs, and sports.

Most of the year passes fairly normally. The typical teenage drama, class difficulties, club activities...and then they enter the last quarter of the year. Hinata’s still in her clubs, and after Winter quarter off from sports, enters her last high school tennis season.

And that’s when things start to get...weird.

For the longest time, Hinata’s crushed on one Naruto Uzumaki: aforementioned basketball player, but also baseball. Alongside him is his best friend, Sasuke Uchiha. Naruto, however, has long crushed on Sakura: a rather jock-like girl who plays sports all year round, ending with softball. The pair seem to be teetering on the edge of finally going out, and...quite obviously, that left Hinata in a bit of a funk.

...but then the unexpected happened.

Sasuke offered to come watch her play. Which, Hinata supposed, wasn’t that unthinkable. They’d been talking about it, Naruto excusing himself due to watching Sakura’s upcoming softball match after Hinata had admitted to planning to watch the boys’ baseball game. She had been rather disappointed until Sasuke spoke up.

...and then he went and confronted her about her dead-end crush once the others had gone.

Hinata was...a bit flabbergasted. But he had a point...Naruto was never going to see her the way she saw him. But it was the subtle hint beneath it that left her a bit bewildered.

...was he…?

A challenging quip resulting in his blush and stutter all but confirmed it: he, in turn, was crushing on her.

...it was completely unexpected. He was one of the most popular guys in their year…! And he...he liked...her…? Why? She’s quiet, uninteresting, unnoticed...not anyone someone like him would care about!

And yet...he did.

Disaster nearly struck when - on her way to the game - she’d gotten a flat tire on her bike. But lo and behold, none other than Sasuke’s mother - also headed to the field - offered to give her a ride. Sitting next to both Mikoto and Kushina, Hinata had watched as they achieved victory, needing only one more win to make it to state.

He’d been surprised to see her there. Made a bit of flustered small talk. And then they’d parted ways rather...awkwardly.

And it only got worse the next time she really got to see him. Nailed by a flyaway baseball bat, he’d been left with a sizeable split in his brow. Hinata, excused from a cancelled practice, offered to take him to the nurse.

Cue more careful dancing around each other, Mikoto even teasing him when he drove home (Hinata accompanying to make sure he was okay to drive).

By then, it wasn’t quite so shocking anymore. Sasuke, quite obviously, despite the breaks in social hierarchy, was very smitten with the class wallflower.

...and after all her considering it, Hinata has decided...maybe she could like him back. He’s a lot sweeter than his typical aloof persona shows. Maybe not quite the brash charm Naruto has that she originally fell for, but...it’s nice. She feels rather at ease talking to him.

So, Hinata decides to break some social rules of her own.

Waiting outside the locker rooms after an afternoon of practice, she ignores the curious looks the other boys give her, clearly suspecting she’s up to something. But Hinata just waits until the proper one emerges.

“Hi!”

Startling, Sasuke looks to her with wide eyes...and then promptly goes pink.

...she’s really starting to like when he does that. It’s just so funny compared to his typical composure. To think, she has that sort of power.

“...uh, hi?”

“I got out a little early, so I thought I’d see how your practice went,” Hinata then offers, still smiling at him.

...it’s his turn to look suspicious. “It was...fine? Why?”

“Just make sure you didn’t take any more b-bats to the face.”

His flustered expression gets all the worse, going from pink to bright red. “No! I’m fine, that was just...a freak accident. Besides, you’d probably find a way to hear about it if I did,” Sasuke then mutters, shoving hands into his pockets.

Hinata’s expression warms. “Sorry, I don’t m-mean to tease you. I really do hope you’re okay. How’s your forehead…?”

“It’s pretty much healed up. Really wasn’t that bad.”

“Good.”

After a moment of just...standing awkwardly, Sasuke tentatively starts walking, seeing her follow. “...so, did you...need anything else?”

“No. Not really.”

“...uh, okay. How, uh...how was your practice?”

“Fine! It was a bit of a light day since we have a game in two days, so...coach doesn’t want us too burnt out. That’s why I was able to catch you!”

“Oh...what team are you playing?”

“Iwa. They’re sort of our rivals in tennis. I’m r-really hoping we beat them. We’re already too low in the rankings to go to state, so...this is really our big push for the end of the year.”

Genuine concern bleeds through Sasuke’s expression. “Oh...sorry to hear that.”

“It’s okay. I’m h-hoping it means I can make it to some of your state games!”

“Oh, well…” Sasuke itches his neck, looking a little sheepish. “We still have one more game against Suna...we’re not there yet.”

“But I bet you will be,” Hinata counters, smiling. “You guys have done r-really well! And it would be so neat if you made it there your last year…”

“Yeah...I hope so. My brother’s soccer team went all four years, and won his junior year. I’d like to at least brush up against that, honestly.”

Hinata glances over at the wistfulness in Sasuke’s tone. “...I see. Will he...will he be able to come watch?”

“Maybe...he’s just out of college and working pretty heavily, so he might not have time. But I think the games are live streamed, so...maybe he can catch it that way.”

“That’s true. But...I hope I can go. I think a group of seniors are planning to skip out and go if you make it to the finals!”

“Really?”

“Mhm! I’d go with them, even if my dad might get mad...I’ve never skipped school before.”

Sasuke considers her for a long moment. “...why do you want to go so bad?”

“Well, it’s been a while since any of our school’s teams made it to state! I want to support them.” Looking up, there’s a small sparkle in her eyes. “...and that means you, too.”

A hint of pink creeps back into his face. “...well, uh...thanks.”

“Sasuke…?”

“Yeah?”

“Can I ask you something?”

“Uh, sure. What’s up?”

“I know you’re awfully busy with baseball and stuff, but um…” She looks to the ground, tucking hair behind her ear as she walks. “But...I was wondering if you’d like to...g-go out with me sometime?”

Sasuke actually freezes in his tracks.

Ending up a few paces forward, Hinata turns back toward him, seeing his wide eyes. “Would...would that be okay?”

“You...you’d wanna…?”

Dropping her coy teasing, Hinata softens, smiling warmly at him. “...I know we started off a bit, um...a bit awkwardly. With the whole...Naruto thing. But...it’s been nice getting to know you a little. You’re a very sweet person, Sasuke. I guess...I never got to see that until recently. I was too busy looking at Naruto, and...well, you seem to like to keep that sort of thing h-hidden.”

Slowly, Sasuke’s posture loses its tense edge.

Hinata glances aside, expression a bit unreadable. “...I’m sorry if you...if you had to keep this to yourself for very long. I know how that feels, and...I’m sorry for never noticing.”

“...well, I wasn’t exactly open about it. I just thought...y’know...you couldn’t really be interested with Naruto around.”

“...well, you were right. He’s never going to see me that way, and...maybe I need to try looking elsewhere.” Shyly, she glances up to him. “...maybe at...someone who already sees me.”

Nerves showing through his expression again, Sasuke dusts pink across the bridge of his nose. “...I’d...I’d like to try that. I know the year’s almost over, and...maybe we’ll end up apart once college starts. But...I really do like you, Hinata,” Sasuke offers in a rare moment of openness. “So...yeah. I’ll let you know when I’ve got some time where we can...do something. Hopefully a day will line up, right?”

She nods, smile back in place. “Okay. Here, I’ll...give you my number. And we can...text about it later? When you’ve got a moment?”

“Yeah, sure.” With digits exchanged, the pair stand in silence for a moment. “...y’know, I...wasn’t expecting you to do that. You really caught me off-guard,” Sasuke admits with a huff of a laugh.

“I f-figured I would,” she agrees with a laugh of her own. “But...well, one of us had to say something, right?”

“Yeah...glad you did.”

“...me too. Anyway, I...better get home. Homework and all that,” Hinata sighs.

“Yeah, same. I’ll text you later.”

“Okay!” Giving a beaming wave, she takes off toward the bike rack as Sasuke makes his way to the parking lot. There’s a happy little flutter in her chest. It was a bit of a bewildering experience on both sides, but...for once, she’s glad she took a leap.

Now to see where it will take her…!

                                                     .oOo.

     (This is a sequel to days 149, 168, and 183!)      More sportsverse! And I'm slowly making up my behind days xD With this I'm just one behind now, though I'm not sure when I'll have time to be 100% caught up. October is gonna be busy both irl and in regards to writing, so...we'll see!      Anyway, we have Hinata leading the charge for once! Nervous, blushy Sasuke is best Sasuke. And I like Hinata having her bold moments...especially when it's something like this! We officially have a relationship going, woohoo! Maybe another prompt will let me write a date xD We'll have to see!      But yes, for now I've got some irl stuff to get done, but! Thanks, as always, for reading!

[honeychilialligator]

The Comfort of Strangers

Gabe's POV

The first time I saw her, it was a Saturday - most likely in the middle of September, nine months ago in a public library, four blocks away from the building that I once inhabited.

Of all things to note, the initial thing that would flash was the day - always the same day. She probably wore an average sweater, and dark skinny jeans - a style I eventually noticed. And even without the glasses, I always remembered her even back then as nerdy, introverted and of course, bookish.

It was a school research that motivated me to visit such a weary place that I couldn't imagine ever stopping-over - not because I was allergic to studying (if anything, I don't mind reading books) but because the place in itself was a bore to look at. The library was Egypt's pyramid. Historical. Old. Ancient. Pick your term. There's a helpful thesaurus inside to help you in such a predicament.

Then again, the same reason has urged me to step inside the old-fashioned site. Mr. Lanburton (not sure if I spelled his name accurately), our history teacher, had loaded us a big stack of dreadful tasks to fulfill at the end of the weekend. Surprisingly so, my memory has reclaimed the thoughts of my heavy homework, to which my class was asked to recollect important historical terms of a long list of nearby places in the vicinity of our humble locale.

It was also the first time my best friend, Google, has disappointed me terribly for failing to deliver an automatic answer to my difficulties (Apparently it was not one of those "God bless the internet" days). Unfortunately our locality and its small populace were a little unfit for specific and in-depth information about what Mr. Lanburton had required.

As tempting as it was to abandon the task at hand, my grades in that semester was not as cooperative. It took me a week to recover on an illness that got me hospitalized for days and the teachers were not very considerate. The only option left for me was to take the route to the oldest public library in town and start a customary way of active research.

The heavy creak brought from the antique wooden door entrance unsurprisingly attracted too much attention in an almost-deserted library. I met her stare as she lifted her gaze - our first contact. Yet at that moment it seemed so ordinary - so unappreciated. I couldn't recall clearly what book she was reading or how she looked at me, no matter how hard I try, but I guess that's just how I will always remember her: the girl who always has her face trained on books in the old library.

At the end of the day I was happy for having the task lifted off of my shoulders three days before the original submission, and I also recalled that my parents treated me and my four-year old little sister in an expensive restaurant outside town. My mother bought me a black jacket that I remembered wearing the next day. That specific Saturday was special in ways that I could only fully realize now.

Visits to the library were followed by more when our history teacher realized how effective it was (for him) to leave advanced schoolwork for a progressive study on our next topics. More items were given that I had to reserve extra time to the library to fulfill the task every week. The second and third time I stayed in the public library, I sat three chairs away from her and maintained the same position for the week because it was nearest to the air conditioner and I was rather comfortable. The quiet girl maintained hers just the same. Each time we were near each other I was more intrigued about the novels she was reading and how she seemed to be unfazed to her dusty surroundings with a different book each time I came. By my fifth visit, I was able to comprehend a clearer assessment on her features when I snuck in a slight glance.

Evergreen - like spring. That's how I remembered her full bright eyes. It seemed enchanting now the more I think about it, as only a few people could possess such unique detail. Her cheeks are always flushed - it must have something to do with the cold atmosphere (but later, I realized she was always like that). Her slightly-curly hazel brown hair, she always secured in a careless bun. It was curiosity that compelled me to her - a teenage girl my age who would just spend most of her time reading classic novels in the stinky dinosaur-age public library instead of going shopping or doing whatever sassy teenage girls do. Does she even go to school? Is she constantly alone if she doesn't have anyone to hang-out with? Where does she live anyway? What's in these books -these novels that got her hooked in this place? Why can't she just borrow them and bring them home to read? Why here where everything is so grubby and old, I have to stop myself from sneezing when I get too close on a dictionary?

It started as a thought, which intrigued me, and then it changed into a deep curiosity that later became a sudden interest. She was not from my university, that's for sure. I would have known. I never bothered to ask because I was uncertain on her response. It was not my forte, conversing with the opposite gender. Back then I had a mental overview on how my conversation with her would be like. I just couldn't gather enough courage to start even a casual conversation.

Scanning through old textbooks, I'd sneak in a little look at her - I don't know why I did - I always felt like even through her solemn focus on the material she was reading, I've always imagined her noticing every slight glance I pass on to her. Having her around three chairs away from me every Saturday afternoon in the library eventually turned into something natural - like a schoolmate a table away from me in our usual place in the cafeteria. Without even speaking, I guess our positions were a mutual contract. Without even knowing it, my visits and these weekly tasks no longer bothered me as much as it did at first.

Finally, I devised a plan to get her attention (it didn't sound as creepy when I thought about it before). This peculiar bookworm returns the books to its shelf and leaves the place fifteen minutes less before I could finish my research homework. On a particular Saturday in October, I took notice of the exact bookshelf location she left her novel before she stepped out of the library. Coincidentally Mr. Lanburton was kind enough to lessen our burden with simple common terms to hunt and I was able to finish the task earlier than most. I took the book out of the bookshelf five minutes after she left. I tried considering asking the elderly librarian about the name of the girl (surely she knew about her only customer in ghost town's library) but for some reason I didn't pursue it.

The moment I glanced at the cover of the book I remembered thinking: "Nicholas Sparks. Well what do you know? I guess she is a romantic at heart."

"The Choice" by Nicholas Sparks.

Reading the synopsis was my last pull to borrowing the book and bringing it home. Alas, I have also read some of his passionate collections but it was my first to encounter this specific book. I started reading that night - continued and finished it the next day. It was compelling and I was hooked. I thought about how she could be feeling the same emotions that I was sensing as I read through Spark's masterpiece, and when I am overcome with extreme emotions in the climax of the plot, I remembered how I caught her wrinkle her nose as she read through all those literary pieces as if she was dismayed by the outcome, or how a trace of a smile would form on her delicate lips for a moment at the remaining pages of her novels; all the emotions rushing out of her when she reads - I realize how she understood all kinds of sentiments organized by the author or how she paints the characters out of her beautiful imagination.

For a regular guy who sees life as a featureless routine, she was remarkable.

The next Saturday, there were no tasks to accomplish, but I returned the book to the library. When I arrived, the girl was already sitting with a different (probably about another romance) book on our usual table as I had expected. I felt her eyes follow me when I returned the book that she read. After doing so, I returned to my usual chair, took a random book on her usual bookshelf and pretended to read it - hoping she would notice me again.

The bookworm cleared her throat. Twice (in the first, I was a little too overwhelmed to hear her). "Excuse me."

"Yes?" I must have smiled like a fool back then.

"Hi," she started nervously. "I just couldn't help wondering: what genre do you usually prefer? I mean if you don't mind." Wait, British accent?

The question initially confused me, but it made me more than glad to hear her talk. I answered her in way that might have ineffectually and failingly conceal my tense and awkward self. "I-I guess I'm more into Action, Sci-Fi. Those kinds of stuff." (Not really). "And probably a little romance would do." (A guy reading a romance novel? Can't you get any weirder? Stupid. Stupid. Stupid).

"I see," she spoke out the words slowly. "Action, huh? Specifically of Sylvia Day's?"

Her tone had demanded to alert me, as I saw her look curiously on the book on my hand. I quickly turned to the cover.

"Bared to You" by Sylvia Day.

Oh.

I slammed the book shut, not daring to behold a scene of its twisted plot. Funny, how I must have looked like to her: A perverted little maniac.

That's when I heard her laugh. I was unprepared for my reaction to the most potent weapon this girl had in her arsenal - a real genuine laugh that reverberated from inside her. It was too infectious for me to resist, and on an unguarded instant, I joined in.

Of course, the librarian shushed us out of it.

"I'm sorry," she blushed - adding more color to her flushed face, and apologized to the wrinkly old librarian.

"Look, I wasn't really reading it, I mean - "(What am I getting myself into?) "I was just scan- " The girl stifled a laugh. "I didn't mean it like that, I was just...just..."(Seriously dude, stop embarrassing yourself!)

"I'm Eveline," she offered, a bright and foreign (but genuine) smile on her face and an extended hand. "You are?"

A for being attentive. I just couldn't stop embarrassing myself, could I?

"Gabriel, 'Gabe' for short" I shook her soft, dainty hand. "Nice to (finally) meet you."

"Sorry if I disturbed you." Another short laugh.

"It's fine. I wasn't really reading it," I shrugged.

"I can tell," Eveline smiled - a sparkle on her emerald eyes. "I mean I noticed you were so out of it. I didn't mean to appear so despicable."

"It's okay, really. I don't usually read novels - especially this kind."

"You're usually on research and textbooks," she added gently, and I couldn't help but grin at the thought of her noticing me.

"Schoolwork," I supplied. "My history teacher keeps giving us a big load of homework every weekend."

"Ah, I see," she nodded in understanding. I waited for her to elaborate about her high school life or at least relate to me how her history teacher could be the same terror professor, but she didn't and our conversation fell short.

"Are you always hanging around here?" I probed further.

"Only on Saturdays and sometimes on Sundays," Eve caught a stray hair and pushed it on her ear.

"Always on the same schedule?"

She nodded cheekily, "Yeah."

Her enigmatic stance put me in place and I decided not to push my luck on her privacy. "Cool."

I looked at my wristwatch and realized that I was late for my sister's little rehearsal, knowing I had to pick her up after. "It was really great to see you, but I'm done with my work here and I need to fetch my sister out of ballet class." As much as I still want to hang around...

"I understand."

"So, next Saturday then?" I said a little too hopefully.

"Of course," she smiled her gentle smile.

That night I lay on my cozy bed thinking about our hilarious - though a little ungainly, dialogue. Eveline. Witty, cute, and bashful Eveline. Even when I decided to shut my eyes, I could see a picture of her perky face in her natural glow and hear the sound of her symphonic laugh. Since that day, thoughts of her became a frequent visitor and Saturday wasn't just any ordinary Saturday. Like a refreshing holiday, I was looking forward to it.

On our next meeting, I wore a navy sweatshirt and khaki shorts - turning my charm on like a light switch untouched for decades. I smiled brightly even before I could enter the library, wanting to match hers and hoping she'd return it. Eveline would be inside, reading a romantic novel, and I hope my smile would greet her. She was still selecting a book when I came in; her face lit up as she mouthed "Hello."

Instead of going my way to proceed on my research, I watched her pick a book or two in the shelf before taking my own set of textbooks to copy information. As I derived coherent notes on my notebook, I clucked my tongue twice in a playful way of getting her attention. From the corner of my eye, I saw her glance to my direction but I pretended to be so focused on my homework. I repeated it again, louder this time to also get the old librarian's awareness. The withered old woman looked around and turned on our table, confused at my mock innocence. She shrugged a little and went back on arranging the filthy pile of old archives. From the corner of my eye, I saw Eveline smile in amusement even without her looking at me.

I purposely sped up taking down notes for research in order to catch up on Eveline on her way home. I asked permission to accompany her and I was happy that she was fine with it. She owned an average bike for transportation and her street was 2 miles away from mine. I offered to guide her bike as a friendly gesture while we talk a little until we reached my apartment building.

"You're not as behaved as I thought you are," she teased lightly.

"You mean what I did to that librarian? Well at least she has someone to watch over. A little hobby might get her rusty old brain working a little," I winked and she laughed.

We shared jokes even though they were mostly mine. I enjoyed making her laugh and smile. I began talking about myself when we started sobering up; about my family, high school, my hunky best friend named Kevin, and my favorite sport, tennis. I casually asked her about her own share of the bargain and I was more than pleased to hear her describe a little more about herself. Financial problems had caused a temporary break for her education when her father was dropped out on his business firm. She didn't talk about her plans for the future which seemed odd when I think about how much I disclosed my desired career as an architect, but I still marveled at the way she talks about her present and how she sees her life like a ready canvass. She loved her parents dearly even if they couldn't give her siblings to take care of. Eveline had a little pet dog named Sponge, and he was her only best friend.

Little facts added to my little biography of her, and each Saturday I was determined to get closer to her as I know she was a keeper for a friend. It turned into a fantastic innocent habit. When Saturday comes, I'd still stay on my usual distance and she'd read books peacefully. I'd cluck my tongue like a little check-up call and she'd smile. We'd pretend we didn't hear anything when the librarian gets irritated, and we'd squeeze ourselves to hide a laugh. But still I was afraid of annoying her on her reading with my behavior so I'd stop and sneak glances at her instead. Overtime she started whistling, a sign that she wasn't bothered about my tongue-clucking at all. The first time she tried her 'notorious' act and the librarian glared at me accusingly, I bit my tongue so bad to conceal a hideous laughter and my stomach was aching, it was so hard to breath. On our journey home, I was able to make her play "20 questions" where we take turns in interrogations about ourselves. Each new detail was a new color to add to cluster of feathers she blooms each day.

By the time we agreed to meet up on days besides Saturday, I had nicknamed her "Eve" even when her mother calls her "Lynn". On our first "friendly" date, I took her to a little café and treated her with chocolate cake that she told me was her favorite. I bought her "Papertowns", a novel written by John Green, and she was so happy and giddy that Eve kissed me tenderly on the cheek; I wasn't able to hold a blush.

Even though I was afraid to admit it, when I was with her, it seemed it was worth doing all those normal things that normal people do.

She was amazing in ways that I couldn't describe. Eve could make simple seem complex. Everything about her had a deeper sense of sentimental value. There are certain ways only she can do that could make me immeasurably happy.

Eve had suggested I meet up with her on a night of meteor showers last December. It had been my dream rendezvous. As we sat there stargazing, I had took the book that we both loved from my sling bag, "The Choice" and read a little excerpt of Nicholas Sparks, one that I intended with meaning.

"It was inevitable for people to try to create a sense of normalcy in a place where nothing was normal. It helped one get through the day, to add predictability to a life that was inherently unpredictable."

She had listened with her eyes closed, lying on the evergreen grass that sent a neon glow to her emerald eyes.

"You've been quoting my books," Eve grinned, after a long moment of observing the distant, twinkling stars.

"Sadly, you've miraculously turned me into a bookworm like you," I sighed melodramatically.

"Well I never forced you to read them," she smiled.

"But there was no other way of getting your attention," I pouted, playfully.

"There was, you're just too dumb to try it," Eve laughed.

"Name one."

"I don't know, how about just a casual 'hi!'" she muttered sarcastically and I rolled my eyes. "You could also have tried asking me what I was reading. Did I appear that stiff to you?"

"To be honest, yeah" I said teasingly.

"Dud!"

"Nerd!"

Tickle fights are the usual aftermath of our casual bullying. How we managed to get that close so fast? I have no idea.

So yeah, we rolled off our butts in the prickly grass like it was no one's business. And after we finished laughing like hyenas and sobered up, we just lied there peacefully under the stars.

"Well I'm glad you did it," she suddenly brought up.

"Did what?"

"Read the book I mean," Eve chuckled.

"How come?" I arched an eyebrow.

"I guess there was no better way to get me to trust you." (She was serious, by the way.)

"Yeah, right" I smiled. "Starting a book club, eh?"

"You're my first member," she joked and we both laughed.

"You've put me in a lot of effort for just a simple conversation," I whispered.

"Nothing that's worthwhile is ever easy, remember that," she quoted a memorized sentence from the book that started it all.

It was her own happiness that did the trick: in her brilliant smile, in her adorable pout, or in the way she smudges ice cream all over her mouth, or how she falls asleep with her lips slightly apart, or how she seems so vulnerable and honest and kind that it would be a difficulty to stop the urge to wrap her in your arms and protect her. She was heavenly, but earthly in that amazingly complicated way.

Yes, indeed. I, Gabriel Felix, a plain average teenage boy who couldn't appear normal and comfortable with teenage girls, was falling in love with a bookworm. At that time when I came to terms with my little crush, I surrendered and didn't fight back. I didn't have anything to lose except for our strong bond and resilient friendship (that I couldn't imagine ever giving up). But knowing Eve, I knew it wouldn't take long for her to figure out about what I really felt. Being in love, I comprehended, was not about being concerned if she could ever accept your feelings and affections. It's more engrossed on ensuring the happiness of your loved one above yours, even if that took you out of the equation.

Every time I have these insecurities in my mind when I think about confessing, I replay all the moments we spend together inside or outside the library. The way she smiled made me feel like it was mutual, and I know I had to try; Eve was worth it.

So I decided to express my intense emotions towards her on our next meeting next Saturday, in the place where it all began - our sanctuary.

That morning I put on my favorite black jacket, and styled my raven black hair with gel. In the bathroom while having my shower, there was nothing else in my mind but on what to say and how to express it without her running out the door. I was nervous even though I've made up my mind.

I read through my lines and my cheesy quotes (obviously it's from the same book), knowing she'd appreciate it. I slipped further into my own fantasies, understanding that there was a big chance of rejection, but all I cared about was being close to her, keeping her. I wanted so badly to keep her.

By then I knew, the moment I stepped inside the public library - as I saw her empty chair, that a love like this was too good to be true.

When I arrived at her address, I asked around for her and she wasn't home - none of her family was. None of her neighbors knew where they went. I went to random places - anywhere where hope could blossom. I tried the café, Borders (her favorite bookstore), the central park, but I was chasing fiction.

I never felt more drained in my entire life the moment I reached home. I attempted to call her number but only voice message replied.

Days passed, and Eveline still remained as a haunting mystery. I didn't break my visits to the library even though it was already summer vacation - hoping she'd show up with her dazzling smile on a sweater shirt and black jeans and explain how she disappeared and I'd forgive her, then she'd reassure me that she'd stay.

I've had my heart broken by love songs and I've had my own share of repetitive and agonizing travels to memory lane. Theories crossed my mind but it was worthless when there is no evidence to support them. Five times - I think - did I visit her house, only to find it empty once again.

"Do you ever do this, you think back on all the times you've had with someone and you just replay it in your head over and over again and you look for those first signs of trouble?"

Why, Nicholas, are you a psychic?

Months passed; each day was a struggle on moving on - on filling this void in my chest whenever I see her empty chair on lonely Saturdays.

My own copy of "The Choice" had been repeatedly thrown off the wall but I still had no perfect reason to hate her - even more in forgetting her. And in doing so, I've shunned myself in taking chances in romance. The harder I wanted to forget the more I kept remembering.

"But things change. People change. Change was one of the inevitable laws of nature, exacting its toll on people's lives. Mistakes are made, regrets form, and all that was left were repercussions that made something as simple as rising from the bed seem almost laborious."

I was able to memorize this stupid passage from that stupid book the day I had given up in waiting for Eve to come back. It seemed pitiful, but there were things you couldn't prevent from spilling. But then maybe I deserved this much for being too attached and for trusting too much on our "mutual" contract.

Unfortunately again for me, I didn't also deserve a "goodbye".

Time did its magic - no matter how slow. I've tried smiling again, and I went back on track with my priorities. On my next semester, I did better and passed every subject. I've tried playing sports like football and I was busier every day.

But still life has a way of proving you wrong. Three days ago, another research came up that needed public library help. The thought brought back unwanted memories that I've tried so hard to ignore but it can't be helped. At the same time, I dared myself to go through this like a test - to prove myself that I've really moved on.

So yesterday I took a step inside the ancient place, purposely in the same time that I practiced my past routine. The librarian regarded me with a look, as she bent down her spectacles to observe me. I tossed her a smile as if we were old acquaintances and I wasn't sure if she could still remember me in the way she returned my friendly greeting.

I took the same old World History textbook, and sat on my old place. Turning the pages, I was suddenly aware of the seat three chairs away from mine. I felt a familiar ache in my heart as I took down notes.

This was too much, I shouldn't have done this.

The price of going back through everything was not worth the pain. I closed the textbook wearily and decided to leave at once, when I heard it.

A whistle.

As if it was a sound of a bullet piercing through my ear, I turned around, perplexed and slightly hopeful.

The librarian was looking at me, her hand on her mouth and a smile on her pale and bony face.

"Made you turn," and she laughed (although it sounded more like a witch's cackle) "I knew that would do the trick." She motioned me towards her, and as the confused bloke as I was, I complied (It's not like she's harmful anyway).

"Your girlfriend," the librarian muttered. "She came here a week ago."

"She's not my girl - Say what?" I think my heart just did a somersault.

"Between you and me, who do you think is supposed to be deaf?" the old woman laughed, betraying her age. "She left something - inserted it on this book," she took "The Choice" (the book that I borrowed) out from the drawer. "You teenagers seriously need to remember that a library is not meant for -"

"Did she say anything?" I cut her off impatiently, taking the book from her wrinkled hand.

The now-annoyed librarian shook her head no.

I removed the little piece of paper from the pages of the book and read the note.

You probably didn't expect an apology from me after I left you alone without any explanation. You didn't deserve it and there is nothing I could say worthy of your forgiveness. You can crumple this paper or forget me - I'd accept all of it. But even after everything that I did to you, it would be such a shame to say that I did it all intentionally.

But here is my explanation: I was dying. My cancer was spreading and an operation could only result to a fast demise or a little chance of survival. From the start I meant to keep this from you - after all, who would have thought that a stranger like you would mean so much to me.

Everyday I wither in the pity of those around me, when all I really want is to do more than just breathe - I want to live. That's why I read lives that have happy endings, something I thought I was never granted to have. It was a torture I designed for myself. At that time all I really thought about was that since this cancer started controlling my life, all I am allowed to feel was pain.

I noticed you long before you borrowed the book. In all honesty, I was just as nervous to talk to you as you mentioned to me. I thought it was a game, really, on who can approach who first. And I lost when you did the irresistible: taking an erotic novel and pretending to read it with an expressionless innocent face. That little encounter started all the hilarious jokes and the little dates. There was nothing wrong about your questions and little interviews but forgive me if I am so reserved (Yes, the reason why I didn't choose to finish school was because of my condition). You'd never think of me as the same bookworm in the library if I told you all of my secrets - specifically about Leukemia.

But we started to hang-out and I let it all happen. There was nothing more refreshing than taking your guard off and having fun. I don't know what made me trust you- maybe it was because you don't look at me with pity, or the way you made me feel safe or that you built up some hope in me. You were a constant reminder of who I can't and never have. But you were there, three chairs away from me, so close yet so far. Ever since I started getting to know you, all I wanted was to close the distance.

So I made a gamble with myself, to give this one last chance, if that meant I'd have an opportunity to have a future with you, even if all we will ever end up is friends. And I accepted the operation, provided with the risks. I couldn't explain everything to you before I'd undergo operation. What's the point of worrying you over something you can't control especially if I'd just end up dead?

God answered my prayers, and I was saved. I got my second chance and all I want to do is spend it with you. But that's your choice. I'll be right here waiting where the heaven's cried.

Love,

E.

Nothing that's worthwhile is ever easy. I know Eve.

I know.

[unproduciblesmackdown]

40, 47, 59, 62, 76

lmao hell yeah thanks for All this support i love it!! quastions

40. weirdest thing to ever happen at your school?

really idk i feel like even our schools’s Antics were pretty par for the course and i was just sitting in the corner reading the whole time basically......trying to think if anything wild happened in college but even then it was p similar. well you know what, whatever donors covered the majority of the cost of the school’s black box theater being renovated apparently Stipulated that every other year a rodgers and hammerstein production be put on. absolute freaks. my roommate/friend and their then-boyfriend, the one mormon i have Knowingly Known in my life, were in pirates of penzance (sic?) together. hilarious

47. favorite type of cheese?

i like cheddar and like, parmesan, smoked gouda.....let’s get that shit Sharp!!! and hard lmao

59. if you were a video game character, what would your catchphrase be?

idk i’d be like an npc just doing their weird thing on their own. i’ve never played pokemons unless you count pokemons Go but i think about the famed “i like shorts they’re comfy and easy to wear” npc kid. like, yeah. i feel the same. and would say similar bullshit nobody asked about

62. seven characters you relate to?

oh god.........recognizing the self through the relatable characters :|

well let’s just talk about the wrol roles right off b/c the characters that Most occupy my gay thoughts (which is to say: my general thoughts) will inevitably get priority when it comes to Remembering things

1) whom among us doesn’t relate to jared kleinman........will roland emerging from relative obscurity and coming for our entire fucking lives like the goddamn legend he is. it’s tough b/c it’s like, oh well alana is relatable too, so is evan unfortunately sorry evan, and in ways i might ~usually act~ like one of those two more than jared but. no. it is Jared who wins the relatability contest, and we all get to be beautifully haunted by it forever

2) leaning hard into winston even with the few glimpses of him b/c somehow will Cannot play an allistic cishet. and this is even More of a case where maybe i don’t much have winston’s demeanor.......even without winston being a beacon of confidence, he has more confidence lmao. and he has that ability to just Be Himself in a situation which, i wish i had that moxie lmao. i am a lot more [usually trying to be accommodating wayyyy harder than i should], booo......even though he’s clearly not great at conflict considering how it doesn’t take Too much to put him out, it’d be pretty impossible for me to be all “called them hacks and lame” or carry out a very irritated monologue in front of four people in the first place lmao. but who knows. and it’s more in the details of like, oh no winston’s the odd one out even though he hasn’t really Done Anything, but we all ~understand~ why he Deserves it.........his expectation / treating it basically as Fact that he will disappoint people.......the [weird] [offputting] behaviors and his way of speaking in What he Says and How He Says It seeming wrong to people.......like it’s only 15-ish min of content that we have here and we don’t have the least info about will’s own thoughts on the character but it’s like. how is this such an iconic Gay Autistic Quant b/c these vibes are so rare. and i appreciate that he can be ~difficult~ lmao. same with jared though i didn’t mention it. i can be difficult!! love it for us...

3) briony atkins from murder of bindy mackenzie as a character who Does act more like how i Usually Act Like lmao.....god we’re only on three i forgot there was seven of these. and yet i know there’s probably at least 2 dozen characters who could make this list and i just won’t think of most of them unless directly reminded......but anyways yeah i mean in person i mostly do Not want attention unless i feel comfortable enough / in my element or whatever. especially if it’d be some situation like “sitting in a group of randos” lol. i mean it depends b/c i also can sometimes be ~on~ in terms of Masking and trying to be like Haha I’m Social I’m Regular and i def engage in Nervous Chatter sometimes, but like, very often it’s like god don’t talk to me and i don’t want to talk either.....and then yeah people Will be surprised that like, idk, i’m opinionated as shit and idk that i Enjoy Things / Have Thoughts And Feelings coz the assumption i guess is that you must simply have nothing to say. so the dismissal of this person who seemingly has nothing to contribute and must be Boring rings true lmfao.....but then of course it’s also important that her personality Under that is the one getting mistaken for emily’s lol cuz yeah At Heart i am sure of that dramatic / intense / excitable type Sometimes. but it takes some excavation before i am like “oh i can engage in my actual self” and like weeks and months to get comfortable w/ people and i’m always suspicious that anyone actually would enjoy it and i’m not too much......i am a motormouth actually and have something to say about any and everything and like to Have Fun Here but like. idk i come off as boring and can be Notably Quiet lmao

4) oscar martinez from the office is weirdly [Haha Same] sometimes lmfao. sort of keeps to himself but also has to pipe up with Opinions and Pedantry and the kind of Drama of a restrained theatre gay. some deleted scene from an episode where during an interview clip of Jimothy in a theater lobby and you have oscar call from across the group in that [wearied Ugh God] way of ‘jim, they’re remaking ___’ while jim just kind of gives a cursory “wow gosh” or whatever and like, i sure don’t have lots of Theatre Opinions but that “oh jeez i have a Take on this and have to share it with someone” vibe is like hahaha yeah.....it’s funny in the “the gang goes to the ice rink for a third of the ep” bit where you just catch oscar doing [ice skating turn] with some solemn intensity.......the “here’s a question nobody’s asking: is this worth it” quote.........way at the end where there’s a whole deal with one of the indoor plants and he’s like “why is it a He” @ the collective gendering of the houseplant lmfao.......i love the one thing where he and pam and uhh toby right? have the Finer Things book club or whatever and jim wants to join just like ~ironically~ and pam has to tell him that oscar doesn’t want him to join b/c he’s not going to take it seriously and use it as a Jokes Vehicle. and then you get the scene at the end where jim Is basically doing that and they’re just like taking it out of him and oscar’s all very seriously like “did you get it all out of your system” lmfao like yeah, earnest members only lmao.....the thing where he gets mad at angela’s like Jazz Musician Posed Babies posters all “it’s kitsch it Destroys art” lmaoooo and in a totally different season all “this is the problem with debate” over the completely inconsequential “is [whichever actress, i forget] Hot” “”””debate””””.......the whole tendency to get involved and always have a take to get across.....opinionated-sometimes-to-the-point-of-petty central. also that he’s the canon gay, are there even any others? anyways and as the us office’s spiritual successor i’ll add on to this by uh what’s the name of billy eichner’s character on parks and rec? it’s craig right. that Self-Powered Intensity is very #me as well.

5) augh god........im like lmfao shit who represents my Hater Club side. hmmm. oh no wait you know what. totally different but i love Prof Beatrice Hotchkiss in the trt nancy drew pc game. she’s holed up in her room writing all the time and just is weird when you try to talk to her all like no i won’t open the door, bring me food, do this Research, bring me my Ski Boots i guess......and then when you do meet her it’s all at like post-midnight in the lounge and she’s all like, encouraging you as a Night Owl and your investigative curiosity and all and i’m like oh word yeah being up in the dead of night is the shit. she’s just weird and passionate and this is another character i might not Act hardly at all like but who i vibe with lmfao. hotchkiss was the supportive adult in my life

6) remembering how hotchkiss is a historian made me think of academia which made me think of like, once again with “these vibes are So So Rare” i really ought to put the wrol role of Nato on the list cuz like. that essential representation of “gets gr8 grades but isn’t really ~academic~ / doesn’t care about that and really just cares about Hanging W Friends and [real specific interests]” is like wow damn that’s the Mood. coz like to an extent i can always Relate to the ~overachiever~ types a la the [nerd character gets all-A’s and other nerd shit] deal, but there’s eventually the issue of like.....those characters like bindy mackenzies and alana becks Care about their achievements (not exclusively as some ppl would have it 9_9) and are Studious whereas i always hated school and was a godawful student in terms of Habits and always got good grades b/c the devil was with me or something and like people will think i must have tried real hard and dedicated myself to Academics and stuff and it’s like.........no................not at all hardly, sure i did my hw every night but at like 11:29 pm or studied for a midterm at lunch right before the class lol or flipped through a lil bit of the sat study guide the night prior.........the “low-effort dumbass who Academically Excels Anyhow” representation is so crucial like!! i run into a wall when it’s the Good Grades nerd character who is real studious and focused and stuff like. couldn’t be me. meanwhile the “naturally weird + probably some ‘deliberate’ weirdness” and “likes animals” and “most likely to just wanna Roll With It” and “shitty focus lol” and “non sequiturs” and “without [activity] i do nothing” is all like....ahahahohoho..........nato rly got to make this list. and honorable mention for Wrol Jeremy. again: whom doesn’t relate!!!!!!!!

7) damnit i know there’s So many answers to [characters i relate to] and whom cover like, more particular Facets here but i’m struggling lmao. Uh. like i’m like, who’s the Hot Mess / continually evolving disaster characters i vibe with......who’s the peak despresso detached Haters rep......who embodies the solo production lifestyle........dammit you know what lol i tend to Feel for like, the background ~nobodies~ who might just get like totally destroyed in some movie with life or death stakes just to like, show how much danger our heroes / Important Complex Protags are. same w/ jeremy not feeling like the Hero / the one who the story’s about / the cool guy / player 1 / etc etc etc i’m like oo i’d be the npc who doesn’t really do anything, i’d be the rando getting blown away in the background of someone else’s story. on a totally different note another shoutout / honorable mention to wybie from the coraline lmfao one of the best characters invented from thin air for an adaptation......tangentially relevant b/c he’s entirely here to support the protag / not his story at all, just here to help and prompt interactions / exposition really.......but love that [weird loner kid who’s best friend is a cat and annoys the other kid and doesn’t Get it and has specific interests and entertains himself and just is doing weird shit around here tf dude lmao killing it] like, #mood. #lifestyle. less dismal to relate to than the bg person who dies......his counterpart who totally dies is somewhat fleshed out / given Investment so it doesnt Really count as [background Nobody who’s really just fodder for “defining the stakes / threat level”] Character Concept

76. what’s your favorite potato food (i.e. tater tots, baked potatoes, fries, chips, etc.)?

latkes maybe......Yummy