#and only in the editor did i decide to go with 2...

[kanmom51]

Jikook in bed - Part 3

Are you sure?! Episodes 4 and 5

Before we get started, a little reminder of parts 1 & 2.

Let me start by saying that the occurrences in this post directly follow the whole ramen convo saga.

After speaking ramen and showering (notice how I haven't added the word "separately" there?🤣 ), and spending some time together downstairs all cozy and everything, they both decide to go to bed.

Let's talk about the pre-sleep coziness for a sec before moving on.

Watching the SNTY choreo and talking about it. JM loving the choreo.

Nothing new here folks.

We also got to learn, once again, just how 'informed' they are of each other's business. That's a nice way of saying they know shit about each other even if we don't tell us they do. Like, JM knowing that JK hasn't slept since NY, including on the flight. And if we're on the sleep talk already then funny how JK didn't know his 'husband' 'is struggling with sleeping lately.

And then, as we got to learn throughout the show, the two, once again, make a joint decision to go to bed.

Enough of that.

Let's get to the juicy part of this post, why don't we?

We start it off the two entangled.

JK has zero issue with JM's feet basically in his face.

Well, he did say JM's toes are cute, so...

Do we notice how JK goes for JM's ankle?

Now holding on to JM's foot with both hands (his mobile in his left hand).

And then letting go.

Reminded me of this moment.

And this one too.

JM going for the hug and JK pulling his hand in.

And they stay like that.

We don't know for just how long.

Discussing sleeping together.

It's not about "are you sleeping with me here?" or "where are you sleeping?"

It's "don't hit my nose today... if you do I'll hit you too..."

No questions asked.

Just facts!!!

How long were they just laying like that, calm, intertwined, BEING?

And they clearly do fall asleep together both laying over the covers.

The editors making sure to let us know that the two were sleeping on that one bed.

That angle of the lone empty third bed. Was it really necessary?

But you'll say: JK moved at some point to the third bed. Yes he did. And why? He already fell asleep on the bed with JM.

There is a purposeful omitting of JK waking up and moving to the third bed. They cameras were rolling, and they clearly could have shown us what happened. Makes you wonder why they didn't show us.

My uneducated guess would be that he moved to the bed on the floor because he was cold at night, and didn't want to wake up JM (they fell asleep over the covers and getting under the cover might have woken JM up). We do see JK covered in the morning. A guess, no more.

That was night 1 of Jeju.

Night 2 is a little different. This time they automatically split into 2 beds. Question I ask is why? Were they told to? Did they think it was better that way?

Either way, we see how JK insists on taking the bed on the floor.

And no, that flimsy excuse of preferring the less soft bed doesn't stand with me. I'm going to go with JK not wanting JM to sleep on the floor. Where Tae was supposed to be sleeping, btw. Funny how that worked out...

And yes, they didn't share a bed for the night, but JM sure couldn't go without his morning cuddles.

Understandable.

Notice how we never see JM getting up? We have zero idea just how much time they lay on JK like that cuddling him. Sob sob. I'm going to go with it not being short lived, which is why they cut the footage.

Ok, so that basically wraps up the 4 nights. 2 in CT (the actual night they spent together in bed the whole night we got zero footage of) and 2 in Jeju.

But how can I end this post without JM's wake up alarm for JK? Waking up is still about bed, right?

When I first saw this I didn't get what was going on... and why JM thought it was so funny.

Well, until I saw this.

Those two...

🤣🤣

[boyfriendtaekook]

Jungkook AO3 recommendations !!! (nobody asked for but i'm still doing it anyway)

I've been wanting to do a recommendation list for God knows how long, and it's finally here !!!! There are TONS of great great works that can never be appreciated enough, and i'm here to show my gratitude by sharing some of them with others.

I think... You can find most of them on tumblr as well, but it's on my AO3 bookmark, so... *shrug*

P.s. I might just do another one for other members in the future ;)

Enjoy <3

Minors dni !!

Love Shop by @jjungkookislife (lanken) (wc: 22.9 k)

You wanted the boyfriend experience at the Love Shop... you didn't think it would turn into more.

2. In Motion by dailydoseofdia (wc: 175.5k)

Summary: The rule is simple - you can look but you can’t touch. You’ve been attending the event for a few times but it was only when a certain boy arrives at one occasion did you feel the fire of lust burning inside. Warning: exhibitionism, public display of masturbation, graphic smut scenes, mutual masturbations, mentions/use of sex toys

3. Damsel in Shining Armor by @jimilter (cevansbiceps) (wc: 44.5k, not completed yet !!)

Earth has completed a little over a revolution around the sun since Jeon Jungkook was brought onboard as the company’s CEO, but what does that change? Not a thing! You’re still his babysitter, he’s still an uncontrollably chaotic toddler, you still hate yourself for finding him hot, and he still needs you to save him from a crisis. Life is still so freaking unfair.

4. i know i kissed you before but i didn't do it right by royalwilds (wc: 28.1k)

your friend hana is known for putting together the best vacations for her friends, the most notable is her coveted couples vacation. the rule being you have to be a couple to join. when hana mistakenly thinks you and jungkook have started dating the two of you decide to pretend so you can go on the trip. the only thing is you’ve been in love with your best friend for years.

5. Créme De La Créme by BreadOfFoxy (wc: 10k)

Summary: The scale of supply and demand moves back and forth and your body doesn’t know how to keep up. Good thing you have a trio of thirsty cat hybrids to help you out when it’s too much for you to handle.

6. Tis The Season To Be Horny by Evafrechette (wc: 6.4k)

It's that time of the year, the annual Rosco Ave Christmas Display Competition and the fierce rivalry between you and your neighbour Jungkook has kicked into gear yet again. But the stakes are higher than ever this year when you both place a wager - the winner gets to fuck the other however they want. Who needs a sleigh when you can ride Jungkook instead?

7. STUCK WITH U by jvngkook (wc: 10.6k)

perhaps being stuck with your roommate during a global pandemic wasn't bad after all.

8. blank check by pantaemonium, sugaxjpg (wc: 44.4k, not completed yet)

“Let me get this right, okay? You threw my name in as your fake girlfriend because you needed to prove yourself to your empty-headed friends, and now you need to fix it. Still,” you paused, raising your eyebrows, “your way of fixing is not to disclose it as a lie, but to cover it up with an even bigger and riskier one. Is that correct?”

9. the proposal by @hansolmates (wc: 20.1k)

Jeon’s the editor-in-chief for Big Hit Publishings, a closet romantic with a penchant for antagonizing his assistant on the reg. When his work visa is in the process of being renewed and he takes a trip to Norway, his eligibility to stay in America is on the line. However Jeon Jungkook doesn’t go without a fight, and in order to save his job he offers you a proposal you can't refuse.

10. A Night to Remember by @yoonieper (wc: 10.7k)

Taehyung somehow convinces Jungkook to go to one of his ‘special’ parties after years of a dry spell. Let's just say he was not prepared for the night ahead…

11. Ace by sennie (wc: 24.2k)

Jungkook only cares about three things: Baseball, painting and his team, but soon he’s adding you to that list when love comes flying at him fast and hard, knocking him right on his ass.

12. Down The Rabbit Hole by Jeonie aka @jjkxla (wc: 73.8k)

GUYS !!! THIS IS IT !!! THE HIGHLIGHT OF MY LIFE !!!!!! ONE OF MY ALL TIME FAVS <3 i'll NEVET get tired recommending this one <3

Jungkook leaves a long relationship, doubting himself over issues that he can’t seem to control up until his best friends drag him down into Wonderland, a secret and vast BDSM community, the place where he meets and falls for you.

13. (s)he's on my mind by softskjin (wc: 27.3k)

You know when you’re having a discussion with yourself in your head? That very private moment? Forget it. Someone is listening to it.

14. Pub golf by @taleasnewastime (wc: 23.1k)

One night. One stupidly hot man, who just keeps appearing in every pub you go to. Six friends. Nine pubs. Nine drinks. Ten million stupid rules. Let the chaos begin.

15. Moirai by NoraBean (wc: 92.5k)

On your 18th birthday a name appears on your wrist. The name of your soulmate. It’s a momentous day that everyone looks forward to, but you’ve always brushed aside; refusing to believe in a fickle mistress called destiny. But what happens when on the morning of your 18th birthday you wake to find the name of your mortal enemy? Jeon Jungkook.

16. Show Me Something by dailydoseofdia (wc: 51.7k)

He was your first kiss years ago, only to become your first heartbreak the next day. Your life would have been much easier if only you would forget about him and move on, instead of having to see him almost every day because your best friend had fallen in love with his best friend. When your pal had suggested having a road trip for the final days of summer break before going back to campus, you said yes for a reprieve. Too bad she forgot to tell you about the two extra passengers tagging along. One of which is the boy that still has a tight hold of your heart without either of you even knowing it.

17. Microwave (Mis)adventures by @bymoonchild (wc: 20.8k)

The classic

Out of all things to be afraid of, Jungkook, the seat-stealer of your 8am class and annoying housemate whom you despise with every fiber of your being, chooses to have a phobia of microwaves, but he loves buying microwaveable food – because come on, they’re irresistible – and you somehow find yourself getting dragged into his microwaves (mis)adventures. Cue chaos, sarcasm-laced banter and an unplanned romance.

18. Falling Skies by @fortunexkookie (wc: 50k) (tw: it's an ANGST :( )

Jeon Jiyeon was your childhood best friend; her brother, Jungkook, was something else entirely. You used to be friends, but then he had gone from endearingly frustrating dumb boy to card-carrying fuckboy so fast it had given you whiplash. Despite the teasing and fighting, Jiyeon realized how Jungkook felt about you long before he did - it was a twin thing - and if you were her sun, and he was her moon, then she just wished she could show you how he reflected your light.

19. reading between the lines by Anonymous (wc: 51k)

You're an art student beginning your final year at university, and the assigned partner for your thesis project? Much to your dismay, it's Jeon Jungkook. You don't like him — he doesn't seem to try very hard, and besides, he's on the soccer team, and you don't really get along with athletes. Thanks to a lack of available models and a shortage of studio space, you end up spending a large portion of your semester locked in a tiny closet with Jungkook, where you eventually discover he's nothing at all like you originally thought.

20. Four Letters by @littlemisskookie (wc: 103.3k)

Your icy exterior makes it seem as though you dislike everyone- which is partially true. But the one person you truly dislike is the cocky frat boy Jeon Jungkook.

(+) Special shoutout to THE sub!jungkook drabble, piss baby by gothvkth !!!

trying out watersports with jeongguk.

I don't know guys... Listing all these wonderful fics makes me want to create one for sub!jungkook or sub!bts only...

Maybe one day... LMAO

[mbappeslover]

écoute chérie // kylian mbappé | part one.

kylian mbappé x f! reader.

saw this edit on tiktok, they edited mbappé to écoute chérie by vendredi sur mer and… i fell in love. the song is sooo mbappé.

y/n got the job as kylian’s personal assistant. his previous assistant fired for unknown reasons. y/n had heard about kylian mbappé and his terrible attitude. she wasn’t excited to work with him. but, turns out.. he’s actually not that bad.

read part 2 here.

read the finale here.

credits to the editor: strkvoid on tiktok, they did such an amazing job <3, my favorite mbappé edit.

“y/n y/l/n, you’ve been accepted!” the notification pinged and appeared at the top of your screen. you clicked on it so fast.

one week ago.

“y/n, have you seen this? kylian mbappé’s management is looking for a new personal assistant.” your friend tells you during a phone call.

“oh really?” you ask.

“yes… and, you qualify for it! like a 100 percent. wait, i’m gonna send you the link.”

you received the message and clicked on the link, it was indeed an exclusive offer/application to becoming the footballer’s new personal assistant.

“y/n, you should really go for it. the pay is amazing and i’m sure it’ll be an awesome experience.”

you skim through the countless pages and listing of requirements and benefits the job offered. plus, you were indeed qualified for the job.

“mmm… i don’t know. everyone talks about how much of an asshole kylian mbappé is. how he’s a jackass with a shitty attitude and an unbearable ego, bigger than the universe.” you explain, iffy about this whole thing.

“oh please, it’s not like you’re gonna be all lovey dovey with the guy. imagine how much money you’ll be making. you want to quit your current job right now anyway.” your friend says, trying her hardest to convince you.

you laugh. “okay, you’re right. i’ll call you back, i’m gonna read through all the paper work, submit my résumé and update you on it.”

you weren’t too serious about it, you doubted that you’d actually get the job.

everything just got real. definitely serious.

you got the job, you were on call with the footballer’s management, and you were now getting familiarized with his schedule.

“alright, ms. y/l/n, we’ve spoken through all the things you’ll be needing to do for kylian. i’ve sent you an email of a file that lists all the things you must do for him. now, all we need is for you to sign a few things. it’ll take you about ten minutes. it wasn’t much before but… some things went down. so, we had to make a few arrangements.” kylian’s manager stated.

you just nod taking everything in and trying to process it at once.

you heard the ping from your phone, signaling you got the email.

“okay, perfect. today, i’ll show you around psg and tomorrow you’ll be meeting kylian.”

a tour guide took you around the stadium, briefly explaining different areas and rooms in the building to you.

it was a long day. you were now in bed, aimlessly scrolling on instagram because you couldn’t sleep.

you’re nervous. why?

the athlete you’ll be attending to is possibly the biggest asshole in paris, france and you’re gonna have to deal with it.

you decide to go on his instagram.

“k. mbappé, 94.1m Followers, 389 Following, 1204 posts.”

you click on the first photo presented and begin scrolling down.

in almost all photos he’s smiling, with a caption full of emojis and empowering words.

he looks so… sweet?

is this the same guy with the so-called “bad attitude?”

you fell asleep.

after scrolling through all one thousand, two hundred and four posts by kylian mbappé.

your alarm rang, loudly.

you groaned, getting up to prepare yourself for the day.

after getting dressed, you received a call from kylian’s manager.

“good mornin-“ you tried greeting politely, before cut off.

“good morning dear, i need you here in ten minutes.”

“it’s only 9:00, i was told to be there at 9:30. did something happen?” you ask, exasperated.

“yeah, well, kylian decided to come earlier than we thought and right now, he wants an organic green juice from le juice. it has to be from juicerie.” the manager explains.

“le juice is like fifteen minutes from where i am right now, how will i be able to make it in ten?” you say, slightly panicking.

“well, find a way. mbappé cares about his health, a lot. all that stuff about nutrition and good food is the key to health. if you didn’t know, now you do. be here in ten, please darling!” the managers says in a cheery voice before hanging up.

first day on the job and they were already trying to make the impossible, possible.

you quickly go on the website for le juice and order and paid online for a medium organic green juice for pick-up.

you catch a taxi and head over to le juice. it was a five minute drive because it was still a bit early and the streets hadn’t start to fill yet, luckily.

you ask the taxi driver if they could wait for a quick second while you grab the order from inside.

the taxi driver fussed a bit yet ultimately decided to wait.

again, you were able to swipe up the juice since the shop just opened and customer didn’t pile up in the juice bar.

you hop back in the taxi and make your way to the stadium.

“tsk, your first day on the job and you’re seven minutes late. you better hurry up and get in there.” the manager scolds you once you arrive, outside the office room of psg.

“well, you should’ve told me i would have to be here earlier, you cunt.”

you didn’t actually say that, you thought it, but, you didn’t say it.

you quickly enter the room, with a little a stumble, almost tripping on your own feet. you quickly laugh at how much of a mess you are.

the room is packed, there’s people everywhere, most likely other staff members. you see at the corner of the room, there’s a small crowd of people surrounding something.

you squeeze in between people, trying to find a way through.

“excuse me. yea, sorry. my apologies. let me just squeeze in. i’m sorry.” you murmur out while gliding through the people in the packed room.

that’s when you were faced with him.

he’s exactly like those photos on the internet, a vibrant face, smiling while the people around him asks him questions like how’s his morning, would he like anything to drink, trivial things to simply make conversation. 

the infamous kylian mbappé.

you cleared your throat, put on your most brightest smile and polite voice.

“mr. mbappé, this is your organic green juice.” you say, putting your hand out to give the drink.

the area becomes quiet as the attention shifts on you.

you briefly look around confused.

and the smile that was once on kylian’s face had disappeared.

it was replaced with a hard stoned, cold glare.

“the fuck?” you thought.

he grabs the drink from your hand, not even thanking you before continuing the small talk with staff around him.

you try your hardest not to make a face at his rude behavior.

you brush it off.

literally.

brushing yourself off, taking a deep breath. putting on a polite voice again, you introduce yourself.

“hello, my name is y/n. i’m sure your manager already told you about me, i am your new personal assistant. if you ever need me, for anything, feel free to let me know. that’s my job, of course.” adding in a little humor to lighten the atmosphere, reaching your hand out.

once again, the area of the room goes silent. his smile falls once again and he slowly turns to look at you.

“d'accord. où est ma paille?” (okay. where is my straw?)

the crowd laughs.

you reach out your bag, handing him the straw before walking away.

“the rumors are true. he’s insufferable. literally an asshole. a two-faced scum? who even treats someone like that? no wonder his old assistant left. who’d want to deal with that.” you were now on the phone with your friend who encouraged you to apply.

“y/n, calm down. i know it was frustrating, but, it’s just your first day. at least quit after you get your first check.” your friend said, trying to comfort you.

yea, that’s right. y/n cried. cried very hard. today was extremely difficult.

you followed kylian everywhere, attempting to tend to his needs, but, all he did was be rude or downright ignore you.

“sir, how are you feeling? would you like for me to schedule a massage for you, in case you are feeling tense?” you ask.

“do i look tense to you?”

“mr. mbappé, your manager has informed me that you have a meeting on friday at 3pm.”

“who makes meetings on friday? i’m not going, you’re going. i have to relax.”

“mr. mbappé-“

“please stop bothering me. aren’t you my assistant? why must you keep calling out my name, you’re here to handle my business.”

“i don’t even know what i did to him? why should i get treated like this? it makes no sense.” you complain to your friend.

“i’m sure it’ll get better eventually… hopefully.”

“yea, hopefully.”

it’s been two weeks, working as kylian mbappé’s personal assistant.

to say y/n felt drained would be an understatement.

fourteen endless days of talking to a brick, solid wall.

a brick, solid wall with snarky remarks and a stinky attitude.

“mr. mbappé, your driver is outside waiting for you. he has the specific refreshments you asked for.” y/n says.

“alright, walk me to the car.” he says.

y/n’s concerned because he usually just nods and walks to the car himself.

as the two makes their way to the car, kylian starts conversation.

“your name, y/n, right?”

this is weird.

so weird.

“yes, sir. y/n y/l/n.”

“alright y/n, can you cook?”

“yes, i can cook, why?” y/n questions.

“génial. je veux que tu cuisines pour moi. (great. i want you to cook for me).” kylian says nonchalantly.

y/n stops dead in her tracks as kylian continues to walk.

“so, now i have to cook for this man? really?

well, it is your job…

oh, shut up. i know that!

just saying…” you internally battle with yourself.

he turns around, “well are you coming? i don’t have all day and i’m starving.”

you snap out of it, speed-walking to catch up.

“why are you standing by the door?”

you were in your bosses house. well, it’s not out of the ordinary because you are his personal assistant.

however, this is a drastic jump from a few days ago, when he didn’t even want you near him.

“are you okay, mr. mbappé? it looks pretty bad. i can go get you some soothing gel!”

he hurt himself pretty badly while trying to perform a trick during practice.

“no! i’m fine. don’t touch me, move!”

he spat out, stumbling to get up by himself.

you back up in utter shock.

other staff runs up to offer him support as he limps away.

mbappé’s pov:

his new personal assistant stood at the door, looking like a lost puppy that was left for dead on a rainy night.

kylian knew he was being hard on her, harsh to her. but, he couldn’t let his guard down.

he refused to let history repeat itself.

“why are you standing by the door?” he asks.

y/n seemed to be lost in her thoughts when he said that because she snapped up and made her way into the house after taking off her tory burch sandals.

kylian observed the woman as she subtly looked around the place before making her way to the kitchen.

he couldn’t lie. she was beautiful. she could be on the cover of a makeup magazine because of how natural and pretty her features were.

he wishes he could see her smile. most of the time she wears a frown on her face, sometimes a pout that kylian finds endearing. he wouldn’t show that though. or.. say it, ever.

her hair looked so soft, her voice was so nice on the ear. she had a nice figure, ones of a dancer, delicate, light on the feet.

“mr. mbappé? did you hear what i said? i asked, what exactly would you like for me to cook?” she said. he loved her voice, utterly. like a bee, wanting to drown in honey. he wanted to drown in her voice, listen to it forever.

“call me kylian.”

for some reason, he finds himself wanting to get to know her. get closer to her.

y/n’s pov:

‘oh God, he’s staring.’ you think to yourself.

y/n has made her way to the kitchen after taking in the penthouse. it was so nice and luxurious. she wondered how much or how long she’d have to work before ever living in a place like this.

she began looking in the cabinets, taking out a few pots and pans before realizing her boss didn’t even tell her what he wanted to eat.

“mr. mbappé, what exactly would you like for me to cook.” y/n says, an attempt to ease the tension.

‘he’s still staring. what the hell is wrong with him?’

“mr. mbappé? did you hear what i said? i asked, what exactly would you like for me to cook?” she repeats.

he looks you straight in the eye.

“call me kylian.”

you two continue making eye contact, you thought you’d feel uncomfortable, but, it’s rather… nice? it feels nice. it’s the first he’s ever actually acknowledged you.

you break the eye contact, clearing your throat.

“alright, if you don’t have anything set in mind, i’ll just cook and try to make do with whatever you have here.” you say.

it’s been about 50 minutes and you’re finally done cooking. you made steak & farfalle pasta with creamy tomato sauce.

kylian went into his bedroom since you began cooking and hadn’t come out. but, you did hear faint music coming from his room.

you begin to plate his food nicely, setting it on the kitchen island with a glass cup of ice water.

luckily, you clean along the way while cooking so there wasn’t a mess. you were tired, you wanted to get home and unwind.

you walk up to his bedroom door, about to knock, when the door swings open.

“oh! i was just about to knock. the food is ready.” you say slightly surprised.

he doesn’t say anything.

but, you could care less. your attention shifts to the song being played in the background.

“is that écoute chérie by vendredi sur mer? i love that song so much.” you say excitingly, completely forgetting that you’re at work. technically.

“yeah, it is. i love that song too.” he replies with a small chuckle.

‘did he just chuckle? with me? did kylian mbappé, my rude ass boss. chuckle… with me?’

you smile, looking at the small smile that adorned his face as he chuckled.

you won. you’re winning mbappé over.

mbappé’s pov:

he was in his room, sipping on some expensive red wine from a brewery that gifted him some.

he felt at peace, moments like these to himself. drinking something, listening to music, letting loose.

not only that, but, most likely, he could smell the aroma from the food his personal assistant, y/n was making for him.

its been a little while, he was gonna go check on the food.

his favorite song comes on.

“partir, venir, mourir, courir.”

what a lovely song. he sings to himself, along the chant before making his way to the door.

opening it, there she was.

“oh! i was just about to knock. the food is ready.” she says, obviously a little spooked.

he doesn’t care about that, though. the more he looked at her, the more time he spent around her, the harder it got to suppress his obvious attraction to the woman.

he visibly sees something click in her head as she moves from his sight to get a better hearing of what was being played.

“is that écoute chérie by vendredi sur mer? i love that song so much.” she says.

‘God, she’s so cute.’ he thinks to himself.

“yeah, it is. i love that song too.” he says, trying to hold back the ‘awe’ he wants to say so bad.

she smiles.

kylian felt like his heart could explode.

without absolutely zero exaggeration, she has got to have an award for having the most beautiful smile in the universe.

that smile right there—convinced kylian that he would make it his mission to always see that smile as long as y/n’s around him.

y/n turns around, leading him to his meal.

his stomach grumbles as he lay eyes on the food. it looks delicious. better than any five star michelin restaurant he’s been to. would probably taste better as well.

he’s confused, though. there’s only one plate of food.

he turns to y/n.

“where’s your food?”

“oh, i only made food for you, sir-“

“kylian, call me kylian.”

“yes, i’m sorry, kylian.”

“i’m gonna wait here for you to finish your food so i can wash your plate, then i’ll be out your hair, if that’s fine with you, kylian.”

he knows he can’t just let her leave like that.

he doesn’t know what he’s doing, but he thinks he knows what he wants.

“that’s fine. come sit down.” he says, pulling out the chair next to him.

y/n hesitantly makes her way and gets seated. kylian slides over the glass of ice water to her.

“no, it’s for you.” y/n explains.

“i know, but, just drink it. i have some wine in my room.”

“okay, do you want me to go get it and pour some out for you?” y/n says, about to make her way there when kylian gently pulls her down.

“no, no, it’s fine. relax.” he says.

kylian begins eating, almost scarfing the food down.

y/n takes a sip of the water while looking at him eat.

“is it good?” y/n asks.

he stops for a second, chewing and swallowing what’s in his mouth.

“very. best meal i’ve had in a long time, y/n. thank you.” he says with a genuine smile on his face.

y/n smiles back before bringing the glass cup up to her lips and drinking some more water.

“so, y/n, how old are you?” he says, finishing up his food.

“i turned 24 a few months ago.” y/n says.

“really? i turned 24 a few months ago as well.”

“i know that, you’re the star of france.” y/n says with a small smile on her face.

he smiles at her again.

y/n couldn’t take it.

‘this is awfully weird. why is he being so… nice. it was concerning.’ she thinks to herself.

silence takes over the room and the only sound being the fork hitting against the glass plate as kylian takes a bite of the pasta.

“kylian, why are you so mean to me?”

“y/n, i know i haven’t been the nicest to you…”

they say at the same time. they both laugh.

“you go first.” kylian offers to y/n.

“alright, i was asking. why are you so mean to me? did i do.. something.”

kylian sighs deeply, “no y/n, you did nothing wrong, but, a lot happened before that’s making me like that towards you. just know i don’t mean it.” he explain.

“well, what happened?”

“i’ll tell you later.” kylian says finishing the food.

y/n took the plate and glass cup, made her way to the sink and began washing the dishes.

y/n wondered, what was on his mind. what was he thinking about.

too deep in thought to not see her boss, kylian. staking right next to her, leaning on the countertop.

she finishes cleaning the plate and cup.

she turned to her left, her soul jumping out her chest.

“kylian! why are you always sneaking up on people.” y/n said, laughing off the remaining shock with a hand over her heart.

“sorry, sorry, i just like looking at you.” he laughs.

y/n laughs too.

“oh really?”

“OH? REALLY?” she says backtracking because it registered to y/n what he said.

“yes. you’re beautiful.” he says, stepping a teeny closer to the beautiful woman in front of him.

y/n blushes.

“the food was really good as well. i really wish you would’ve ate with me.” he says.

“i’m just your assistant. i don’t want to break any of your boundaries. i respect you.” y/n says.

“i respect you.” kylian replays it in his head.

he already had a slight crush on y/n, but, this was different.

he has a crush on y/n.

“wow, you’re making me feel like shit for treating you the way i did. i respect you, too. say, come over again tomorrow. if you make me something to eat again, i’ll tell you what happened.” he says with a smile on his face.

y/n remains silent. she was thinking.

‘is kylian mbappé flirting with me?’

there’s no way.

yes there is! look at the way he’s looking at you. he wants you!’ you weigh out to yourself.

kylian think it’s adorable. the way y/n constantly looks like a lost puppy.

he bends down a bit, leveling himself to y/n’s height to get her attention.

“everything alright in there?” kylian says.

y/n seems to still be in deep thought when kylian giggles.

he takes his index finger, placing it underneath y/n’s chin, lifting it up.

he looks her in the eye.

he wants to kiss her, her lips look so soft. he’s 100% sure if their lips were to simply graze across one another, he’d still love it. be addicted to it.

y/n looks back into his eyes, feeling her heart beat and her stomach start to flutter.

“deal or no deal?” kylian says as he tilts his head to the side.

y/n eyes drops to kylian’s lips. they were the perfect size and naturally protruded out.

she imagined how it’d feel. probably like a pillow, or, maybe a marshmallow.

y/n eyes make its way back to kylian’s.

she made up her mind.

“deal.” she says before gently removing his finger from her chin. she gathered her bags and made her way to the door, kylian following right behind.

she slipped on her sandals as kylian unlocked & opened the door.

y/n walks out, before turning to kylian who stood by the door.

“goodnight.”

“goodnight.”

they say together.

the two laugh.

“till next time then, goodnight mr. mbappé.” y/n says.

“it’s kylian and i’ll call you tomorrow. make sure you answer. goodnight, y/n.” he says, smiling.

a/n (author’s note):

i am confident in this at all.. i feel like it could be way better but i wanted to hurry and publish something to whoever’s waiting. i’ve been so busy and tired with school :,(. it was supposed to only have one part but i didn’t wanna rush the plot too much.

i tried something new with the whole “pov” thing. and, i hope it’s not too confusing because i switch from 2nd point of view to 3rd a lot.

i guarantee part 2 will be more exciting than this. thanks for reading!

[aoioozora]

Simon.

Part 7

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11 - Part 12 - Part 13

Character: Simon Riley / Ghost

Content: Biker! Ghost x Fem! Reader, strangers to lovers, fluff, civilian au

Note: Reader and Alejandro interactions that make Simon jealous and a wee bit insecure. Tags: @cmbghost @gluttonybiscuits @paintlavillered @eatingtheworldsoffanfiction

____ pulled into the underground parking lot of the apartment complex, sighing. She had just come back from an underwhelming meeting with her editor. 

She had proudly submitted the first few chapters of her manuscript, hoping they would be a hit, but was instead bombarded with the many suggestions of changes that should be made; while the plot itself was alright, the main complaint had to do with the male lead. 

“Frederick is not captivating or interesting enough. He needs more depth and personality… Definitely something different from Elystran,” the voice of the editor echoed in her thoughts as she killed the engine of her car and stepped out of the car. The thought of it once again made her shoulders slump with disappointment. 

Just as she did, out of the elevator across her parking spot came Alejandro. He spotted her and smiled. “Hey,” he greeted, twirling his car keys around his finger. 

“Hey, where you off to? I thought you were at work already.” 

He shrugged, “Took a day off for a doctor's appointment.”

“What happened?” 

“Nasty back pain,” he sighed. Then noticing her dull spirits, he asked if she was okay. 

“Yeah, I just came back from a meeting with the editor and apparently, I have a lot of stuff to change in my manuscript.” 

“Ah,” he nodded solemnly, “I'm sorry to hear that.” 

She shrugged. “It is what it is.” 

Alejandro was silent for a moment, unsure whether to ask whatever he had on his mind. He decided to just go for it. “Do you mind if I read the manuscript? I'd like to see what it's all about. Maybe get a sneak peek into your next book too.” He winked at her. 

“I was actually thinking of asking you just that.” She beamed, happy that he asked. 

Alejandro raised his eyebrows. “Really?” 

“Yeah. Actually, most of the problems in my manuscript are with the male lead, so I think your valuable input as a man would really help me out. And your general opinion as a reader too.” 

The man couldn't help but feel flattered. “Is that so? Then I'd be happy to help you out. Just send me the manuscript and I'll read it soon.” He threw his car keys in the air and caught it in his rugged, tan hand and smiled. 

“Perfect.” Just as she was about to say something else, she got a notification on her phone, which she immediately took out, hoping it was a message from the editor changing his mind about the manuscript. 

But it was Simon. Though a little disappointed, she still smiled, and he noticed.

“Boyfriend?” he asked, raising his eyebrows teasingly at her.

“Yeah,” she nodded, grinning. She kept the phone back in her pocket, deciding to answer him later. 

Alejandro found it a little odd that she wouldn’t reply to Simon immediately, but he figured, “Maybe it’s just me,” and decided to let it be. 

“I’m offended you didn’t tell me you started dating,” he smirked, playfully putting on a tone of feigned offense as he put his hand on his chest. “How’d you two meet?”

She laughed at his dramatics and then briefly related the incident to him. 

“So you two started dating only a month and a half after meeting each other? That's… quick.” Alejandro remarked, raising his eyebrow. He knew people could fall in love at first sight, but that wasn’t the case with everyone. 

“Yeah,” her voice squeaked and her gaze faltered; she cursed herself for it. “We found a lot in common and… hit it off.” 

“Hm…” he exhaled, noticing the vagueness and lack of conviction in her voice and body language, but decided not to comment on it, not wanting to jump into conclusions too soon. “Well, good for you. I’m glad you found someone,” he said with a smile, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. He then looked at his watch. “I should get going. Don’t wanna be late for the appointment.” 

“Alright, see you later!” she said with some eagerness, wanting to end the conversation, for she didn't know how else she could cover up. 

“See ya, muñequita.” 

Simon had recently followed ____’s spam/personal account, and saw that the skeleton plushie made a very frequent appearance. It showed up even on her main account to her tons of followers. 

The story on her personal account posted late in the morning showed the skeleton perched against her laptop screen along with the caption, “Serious writer’s block rn. He’s cheering me on!”

The next image, posted three hours later was of Alejandro in front of a laptop that looked like hers, captioned, “@-alevargas is giving me some pointers. He's ruthless 💀”

Simon grunted, feeling a spurt of jealousy. He rolled over on his side on Gaz's sofa, nearly kicking Johnny– who was seated on the floor– on the back of his head. 

He didn't hear his friend's yelp as he was too busy feeling bummed that she didn't ask him, especially after the two shared meaningful conversations over her novel before. 

“It's not like I can control who she chooses to share her work with,” he told himself resignedly, “Besides, we're just friends. I'm not supposed to be feeling jealous like this.” 

Yet he couldn't help it. 

Simon decided to scope out his competition by paying a visit to Alejandro's Instagram page. Upon reaching there, he found that the man was an up-and-coming part time model with a fair amount of followers. Even though Simon saw him in real life and found him to be a handsome man, his modeling photographs rendered him dangerously handsome; he had perfectly tanned skin, thick glossy black waves styled gorgeously to suit his masculine features, straight pearly whites for teeth, a near perfect five o'clock shadow, an athletic and muscular body, and a dazzling smile characteristic of motivational speakers. He was Mexican, to top it off, which meant that he most definitely was an outgoing and energetic guy. 

Simon felt his confidence fade into insignificance. Here was a man perfect in every respect like an expertly cut diamond, and compared to him, Simon felt like an ugly, misshapen rock. His own features contrasted with Alejandro's in his brooding, glaring eyes, his pale skin, thin lips, crooked teeth, his somber and quiet outward personality, and most of all, his marred face and body. 

He immediately exited Instagram and dropped the phone on his chest, sighing. “Yeah, with a bloke like him as competition, there's no way I'm winning,” he thought to himself, now resting his arm over his forehead. 

“Oi, Ghosty,” Johnny nudged Simon's leg with his elbow. 

The familiar nickname irked him all of a sudden, as it felt like a reminder of his flaws. “What?” he asked, trying not to sound snappy. 

“Did ye ask ____ if she wants tae come for our one night camp?”

Simon grunted. “I'll ask later.” 

“No. Yer gonna forget. Also, tell her that Lindsey is coming too.” 

Lindsey. Simon remembered Johnny telling him about her soon after he confessed their stalking. A short, freckled, ginger girl; Johnny spoke about her a lot and with excitement too, even calling her ‘Jolene’ in reference to the Dolly Parton song. Simon wasn't particularly surprised that Johnny was gallivanting with yet another lady; that's what he had always been doing since high school. His wit, charm, smiles, energy, and particularly his Scottish accent recommended him greatly to the opposite sex. He only hoped that Lindsey wouldn't take him too seriously. 

Simon picked his phone back up and sent a quick text to ____  about the camping trip and its general details. No sooner was he about to throw his device aside on the coffee table to pay more attention to Gaz who was playing his electric guitar nearby, her reply came. 

Author Girl: of course I'd love to come! 

Simon Riley: great. I'll let you in on more details later

Simon Riley: Johnny has invited your friend too apparently

Author Girl: Really? She didn't even tell me.

Simon Riley: u better ask her about it then. 

There appeared to be a slight delay in her reply even though she was online, and he wondered what she was up to. Finally, a reply came after two minutes. 

Author Girl: I'll do that :) 

Simon Riley: Are you busy? 

Author Girl: yeah kind of. Alejandro is giving me some suggestions for my story

He felt a twinge of jealousy again. “He's still there? At this point, maybe they make a better pair than she and I,” he thought despairingly. 

Simon Riley: yeah, I saw ur Instagram story. How's it coming along? 

Author Girl: it's coming along great. We're almost done here

Simon Riley: he's at your place? 

Author Girl: yeah, he came over to give me some enchiladas he made and I invited him to come in. 

Another twinge of jealousy, and another skill to add to Alejandro's repertoire. 

Simon was so close to typing, “I wish you invited me instead,” but immediately deleted it. 

Simon Riley: cool. 

Simon Riley: I'll leave you two then, I got other things to do

Author Girl: sure. I'll text u back soon :) 

Simon Riley: alright. Cheers

She noticed how he went offline so quickly and stared at her phone for a moment. “Is it just me or did he seem a little off?” she wondered to herself, hoping she wasn't reading too much into it. She shrugged it off, thinking it had to do with whatever he was busy with. 

“Muñequita?” Alejandro's voice interrupted her reverie.

Her eyes snapped back to the man sitting across her. “Yes?” she smiled, not realising she had been engrossed with Simon. 

He looked at the clock on her wall. “I should get going now. It's gotten late,” he said, now placing her laptop on the coffee table and rising. 

“Oh right, I've kept you here long enough,” she chuckled as she rose too. “Wait here for a moment.” 

Alejandro, confused and curious, stood by the coffee table as he watched her disappear behind her kitchen door. She soon appeared with a can of soda, which she put in his hand. 

“That's for you, as thanks for the enchiladas and helping me out,” she said, grinning at him. 

He chuckled and playfully gave her forehead a gentle knock with the edge of the cold can. “Thanks, muñequita,” he smirked, opening the tab of the can with a single finger and taking a long sip of the soda. “Well,” he began as soon as the sip was drowned, “I'll be off now. Good night.” 

“Good night, Alejandro. Take care,” she said as she walked him to the door. 

“You too, nena,” he gave her a little smile. “Call me if you need any more help, alright? I'll be at your beck and call,” he said only half-jokingly, giving her a wink. 

She rolled her eyes and smiled. “You don't need to do that, but I'll let you know.”

As soon as he left, she breathed a heavy sigh. The conversation with Alejandro was fruitful, but she was exhausted. She decided to decompress and wind down for the night by taking a nice, long shower and a soak in the bathtub. She then had a simple dinner and just before bedtime, she was found on her bed in her satin pajamas and her phone, cuddled with the cushions and plushies; Little Simon, the most preferred and well loved, was tucked under her arm and pressed against her breast. 

Her cute animal video marathon was interrupted by a message from (Bigger) Simon. 

Simon Riley: wyd? Are you busy? 

Author Girl: watching videos. Hbu? 

Simon Riley: [photo] 

Simon Riley: watching a film with the lads. It's boring 

The photo showed a glowing television screen in a dark room, and a little cameo of Johnny's familiar mohawk at the bottom as he was seated on the floor in front of Simon. 

Simon Riley: I'd rather talk to you

She felt her heart skip a beat. 

Simon Riley: I hope I'm not disturbing you btw

Author Girl: no no you're not

Author Girl: tbh I'd rather be talking to you too 😂

It was now Simon's turn to feel his heart skip a beat. 

Simon Riley: good, because I'm in for a conversation 

Author Girl: what do u wanna talk about? 

Simon Riley: hmm

Simon Riley: how did it go with Alejandro? 

Unbeknownst her, Simon had to revise that text several times so as to not make himself sound unnecessarily overprotective, prying, and smothering. He hoped that he sounded casual and carefree enough. 

Author Girl: went well. He gave me a lot of pointers for my male characters. My editor wasn't so happy with my male lead so I had to consult an actual guy to help me out

Simon Riley: you could've asked me

Author Girl: yeah well Alejandro was the first guy I came across so I thought I'd ask him. I was going to ask a bunch of different guys too so I'll be asking you next 😁

Simon Riley: good. I'll be glad to help. 

Simon Riley: btw about the trip

Simon Riley: I need to fill u in w the finer details. Can I call you rn? 

Author Girl: sure

She sat up straight on the bed with bated breath. Though he had a few phone calls with him, she still felt a little bit nervous. She was about to get lost in her thoughts when the blaring of her ringtone made her jump with fright. She scrambled to pick up the call. 

“Hey!” she squeaked in a high pitch, and immediately cleared her throat. 

“Hi darling,” he said, his voice deep and affectionate; she could hear him smiling. “You alright? You seem a little… I don't know, surprised?”

“No,” she said breathlessly, “No, no, I'm fine.” She chuckled. When she heard the faint sound of traffic on his side, she asked, “Are you out already?” 

“Just the balcony,” he answered.” How could you tell?”

“I could hear some traffic.” 

“You're sharp,” he complimented. 

She smiled. “Thanks. Now, what did you want to discuss?” 

“Right, yes,” his voice immediately turned serious. He gave her all the finer details of the trip for a few minutes and at the end of it, he asked, “We're planning on using a car to get there since it's gonna be the five of us and it will save on petrol. Do you think we could use your car?” 

“Well if my car is in good enough condition for you, then I don't mind,” she said, a hint teasingly. 

He chuckled. “If I check it and find anything wrong, I'll give you a bollocking,” he teased back. 

“Oh come on,” she rolled her eyes, smiling, “You gave me enough of a bollocking the other day when my battery died. I'm not going to let you do it again.”

She heard him laugh, and like it always did, her heart melted. 

“You deserved it,” he scoffed. “But anyway, batteries and bollockings aside, you're okay with your car being used?”

“Absolutely.” 

“And you're comfortable driving long distances? Like I said, it will be a three hour drive, which is quite long by European standards.” 

“I'm okay with it. It's been a long time since I've driven that long though.” 

“Don't worry, if you're tired, I'll take your place.” 

“You? But didn't you say you were a bad driver?” she smirked. 

He could hear her smirking and thought he'd try to make her laugh. “If I try really hard, I can avoid hitting a tree.” 

She burst out laughing. “You're banned from the driver's seat!”

He smiled, gratified. “Whatever shall I do,” he said sarcastically, smiling and shaking his head. 

“If you can prove that you won't hit anything within the first five minutes of the drive, then maybe I'll consider letting you drive for longer,” she challenged, shifting in her seat on the bed and running her finger over the contours of Little Simon on her lap. 

“Challenge accepted,” he said with a self-assured snort. 

She smiled at his confidence and willingness. “So where are we all meeting again?” she asked. 

“At my place. I'll send you directions for it after this.”

“Okay,” she exhaled, now thinking of what his place looked like. What sort of decor and aesthetic he preferred, what sort of colors he liked, and if he kept house plants. 

The two continued to converse a little more until their eyes felt heavy and they started yawning. 

“Are your friends still watching the movie?” she asked, by this time half sitting up and half laying down on her bed. 

“I think it's almost over,” Simon, who was still seated in the balcony, looked over his shoulder at Gaz and Johnny who had their eyes still glued to the television set, despite them having melted into the sofa. “You sound sleepy, darling. You should go.” 

“Hmm…” she sighed. “But I don't want to go,” she whined in a soft, sleepy mumble. 

“Why not?” he questioned smilingly, not wanting her to hear how her sleepy whine was making him melt. 

“I like talking to you,” she replied in a tone that was trying to convince him to stay. She rolled over on her side, holding Little Simon close to her chest. 

The man's distant eyes softened as he heard this and he felt a little tickle in his stomach. His voice deepened, quietened, and mellowed as he replied, “Same here, my darling, but we'll talk again soon, alright? You sound like you're gonna fall asleep right now.” 

He heard another little whine, and he chuckled, unable to stop finding her cuteness so endearing and sweet. “Go on now,” he encouraged gently. 

She finally relented. “Good night, Simon,” she said in a half-whisper. 

“Good night, my love.” 

There ended the call, and Simon kept his phone on his thigh, feeling his face turn warm against the cool, damp air of the outdoors. He inhaled deeply and then exhaled. 

“Fuck me…” he murmured, running a hand through his hair. 

This phone call was a huge boost to his earlier insecurity. Their banter, her acting cute, her not wanting to stop talking to him was evidence enough that she preferred him over Alejandro. He could only hope that his hunch was right and that she wasn't doing the same thing with the other man. 

When the sound of her puppy-like whine echoed in his mind again, he groaned, wishing he could punch a wall so he could feel manly again. 

Any more, and she was going to be the death of him. 

The same woman, blissfully unaware of how her unintentional cuteness affected Simon, was now half-asleep on her bed, fingers curled loosely around her phone, and Little Simon nestled under her arm. 

“Elystran, from your first book, was bubbly and energetic. So I think that it would make sense for Frederick to be a little more reserved and aloof, but someone with power and authority, unyielding, and kind to nobody but Adelheid. Maybe if you knew someone with similar traits like these, you could use them as a model.” Alejandro's words from their earlier discussion echoed in her thoughts. 

Like lazily floating clouds on a clear summer's day, her thoughts drifted, trying to think of who would make the perfect model. 

Her thoughts settled on one man: 

“Simon.”

End of Part 7.

Part 8

Thank you all for your love on this series! I enjoy writing this and all your wonderful likes, comments, and reblogs fuel my passion some more. It's sm fun to write fluff; too bad I don't see a lot of it on tumblr lol. But anyway, thank you all once again. Remember, if you enjoyed this and want to be notified for updates, leave a comment so that I can add you to my tag list. x

[jeremywhitley]

Here we are, six weeks later...

HEY!

So, in case you haven’t heard, our six week run on Love Unlimited following Gwenpool wrapped up today and...

and as much as I did write all of this and it is extremely important to me, I feel I really need to make sure you all know that this didn’t start with me.

To be completely accurate, it started with Chris Hastings and crew for creating such an amazing and nuanced character out of what could have only ever been a high concept and a cover gag. Not that the cover gag wasn’t good, but the statue that is revealed from that piece of marble over the course of The Unbelievable Gwenpool is truly astonishing.

Then, of course, there’s you. An audience of fans with an incredible love and passion for a character who also saw a lot of the quirks and experiences that we as people on the asexual spectrum experience and talked about it online.

Which is where the incredible @alannawrites, my editor, comes in. Alanna had been looking for an opportunity to tell a story about being ace in Marvel comics. We had kind of skimmed around the edges during Unstoppable Wasp, but ultimately being a character who owed so much to a movie franchise, there were a lot of nerves there. Gwen was not only a great opportunity to tell a story of a person hyper aware that they are in a story struggling with the tropes that affect their actual life, it was a chance to bring about this story for a character a lot of the fandom already saw as ace. Obviously, not everybody, but still a lot.

So when editorial game to okay to tell this story, Alanna reached out to me - somebody she’d worked with but also specifically had just had their own little coming out as demisexual a little while back. I was thrilled by the idea and before long we brought on @bailiesartblog and Kelly and had a full creative team of people on the ace spectrum. This is easily the first time that’s ever been a thought.

For me it was important that it not just be a story of coming out, but that it be a Gwenpool story. A story of knowing how stories work, what tropes you can play with, trying to direct the story where you think it should go, and ultimately finding that the story just won’t comply. And for people who have experienced being on the ace spectrum or a lot of other marginalized genders and sexualities - that’s a very familiar problem.

Ultimately, it’s different from a lot of other Gwenpool stories because it’s not the world around her. She has 2-3 real working possibilities for romantic relationships in this story and one that is about to become a fully adult sexual relationship with a woman whom she really loves before it skips the tracks. Ultimately, it’s not a thing from the 616 that’s holding her back, it’s a thing she brought with her from the real world - her sexuality - and no matter how worthy you are, you can’t beat that with a hammer.

There’ll be lots of time to talk about this later, but along with her actually saying the words and waving the flags above, one of the sequences that’s most important to me is the opening sequence of issue 6

This is the problem sometimes with being story tellers. When you think you know the story, realizing you’re not who you thought you are can feel like maybe you’re a villain. Maybe you’re a monster. Maybe you don’t belong here.

Some people on the internet seem to have decided to misinterpret this sequence as us comparing being asexual to being a monster, when very clearly that’s Gwen doing it. I’m just going to assume they’ve never had the experience of struggling to understand themselves and where they fit. Sounds fake, but whatever.

I love this FF story. I love Ben Grimm. I love this cover and that was why I gave my art team the truly unenviable task of recreating it. Like, I don’t know if you’ve been there, but I certainly have and I’d wager that most of us have at some point.

But perhaps the most important image in this scene is the next one:

Julie sees her friend, her girlfriend, the person that she cares about spiraling and literally yoinks her right out of the frame.

And sits her down and talks to her about it. And listens to her about it. And when she starts asking questions that Julie can’t answer, she finds Gwen somebody who can.

And that is an incredible gift to give to someone. And yeah, maybe we should all do that for each other, but man is it hard. Julie for one is in a multi-month relationship with this girl that just told her that not only was she lying about being ready to have sex with her, but that she didn’t actually like kissing her and has been faking enjoying some aspects of their relationship. You wanna think you would still be there for this person, but that’s a lot to handle and it takes a lot to be the person Julie is in this moment. But, personally, I love Julie Power and I think she’s the kinda person to stick with it.

And ultimately I think this scene is so important to me because I hope this book is our opportunity to be Julie Power to somebody reading this story. I hope someone who is going through a hard time or struggling with how to define themselves will find this story and it can be the hands that pull them out of the cover of Fantastic Four 51 when they need it. Maybe that’s a lot to hope for a comic, but it’s really the ambition I think the team went into this comic with. We want to tell a story about an aroace character coming to terms with who they are and learning to accept and be comfortable with it, but ultimately we hope this story gets to someone out there when they need it and makes the difference.

Well, this has gone really long and I’m sure there will be other things I wanna say about it later, but until then take care of yourselves and hopefully you’ll get the chance to be someone’s Julie Power.

P.S. - Julie, you’re amazing and I’m sure we will find a romance for you that works out eventually. Sorry that we’ve collectively now put you through three breakups.

[shinkaeru]

In Another Universe...

Andrew Marston × Reader (gender neutral!reader)

✪ What if you didn't give Andrew an answer after you and him broke up? (2.9k words)

A/N: I haven't written anything for 2 yrs so writing this was experimental for me. Hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did!

×××

A few years have passed since you graduated from university, you were already working as a book editor in a well-known book publishing house in London and earning a salary good enough to live independently. 

Lately, all you‘ve ever thought about was work, work, and more work, to the point you might've just grown a few more gray hairs from all the stress and sleepless nights. You've always focused on finishing all your projects first before anything else, only because you didn't have anything else to do.

“She goes back to the place where her lover once promised to see her. As hours went by, nobody came to find her, leaving her in distraught. She realizes in the universe she woke up to, her lover's fate led up to something else.” You read out loud as you write down corrections and suggestions of your client's manuscript of their book.

While you are scribbling away, engrossed by what you're doing, you hear your phone buzz causing you to glance at it for a brief moment. Out of curiosity, you decide to pick it up to see what it is—It turns out to be a text from your former classmate at university. 

“Hey! It's been a while. Do you wanna come hangout with us this Saturday night?” The text says. 

You take a sip of coffee, thinking to yourself: Do I still have time for this? It's not like I have anything scheduled for the weekend. You lean back on your chair, resting a hand on your chin. I guess I can afford taking a break for once. 

“Yeah sure! Where and what time do we meet?” You hit send and waited for your friend to respond. 

Besides, it wouldn't hurt to meet up with your friends from university after so long. Man though, has it really been 3 years already since we graduated? You thought to yourself. 

It seems ever since you graduated, you never looked back from your past and continued pursuing your personal endeavors. 

As you are about to set your phone down on the desk, your phone buzzes once more. 

“Let's meet up at 6pm yeah? I'll send you the location in a bit. Seeya!”

× 

It's exactly six 'o'clock in the evening, you've arrived at the bar your friends have planned to meet up at. As you walk inside, you hear smooth jazz music playing faintly while crowds of people mingle and chat. 

You look around the place, hoping to spot at least one or two of your friends already sitting down with a drink in their hand. Going to such social places as bars like this was considered a rare occasion for you since the last time you’ve ever been to one was when you were in your first year at university. The thought of trying to talk to strangers was nerve-wracking enough for you that it makes you wish you’d be home in isolation until now. 

As you are about to approach the very corner of the bar, you hear your friend’s voice calling your name on the other side of the bar. 

“I’m not late, am I?” I asked as I sat next to my friend while she pulled a pail filled with bottles of beer. 

“Not at all, all of us just arrived.” My friend hands me over the drink while two of our friends were talking about a different topic. She sips on her beer then pulls me into a welcoming hug, calling me by my old nickname. “Pea, it’s been like ages since all of us last saw you! I missed you so much.”  

“Yeah, we haven’t even heard from you that much either. You don’t really go online nowadays.” He adds.  

“I’ve just been caught up with work really.” You respond, taking a sip of the liquor from your glass. “How about you Coconut Man? How have you been?” A chuckle escapes from your lips as the memory of how you and your friends got their nicknames, which was from a Jessie J song that was stuck in your head at one point. 

“I flew back here to get my master's degree in literature. Decided one day that I kinda wanna venture into teaching it too, you know?” He shakes his head with a smile plastered on his face. “Moonhead here was talking earlier about getting into Journalism.” To which, they shrugged off his remarks and laughed. 

“I mean, yeah. I got into this job where we write articles about other musicians, music reviews, live concerts—music journalism basically.” They sip on their drink. “So far, it’s been fun. Sometimes, we even get free tickets to like, music festivals and shit.” 

“You two certainly have something interesting going on with your lives, huh?” You smiled, feeling genuinely happy that your friends have achieved the goals that they have worked hard for all these years.  

“Oh! I also have some news to share!” She gleams with excitement as she tries to hold the grin on her face. “My boyfriend and I just got engaged this week.” She showed the ring on her finger, making everyone at our table cheer while I clapped along to her announcement. 

“Wow, you’re getting married already? Congratulations!” You greet your friend, which made you realize for a moment that you were finally at the time of your life when your friends would get married to their partners. Holy shit, am I really getting that old? You thought to yourself. You could even say you could feel your bones cracking just from the thought. 

“Honestly, that’s one of the reasons why I invited you guys here. My partner and I were already planning out on who we’ll be inviting to our wedding, so I thought about you three.” She sighs. “We’ve all just...grown apart since we graduated. We should all at least hang out some time again.” 

Moonhead adjusts their position from their seat. “You know what speaking of wanting to teach, Pea, have you ever gotten the chance to speak to Professor Marston yet after the uh...whole thing going on between the two of you?” 

Your heart sinks as the thought crosses your mind. Ever since the night Andrew went to your place to address the situation at hand, you haven’t given him an answer out of concern for his career and reputation. You’ve kept your distance since you’ve graduated, which pains you deeply. 

“I haven’t had any news about Andrew to be honest,” You shrug. This information puts your friends in disbelief, which you find a bit amusing. They’ve always supported your relationship with Andrew during those first few months and defended you when rumors started to spread around campus. 

“You...you don’t talk to him anymore?” Her gleeful expression turns serious. “No greetings, no updates, nothing at all?” 

“Well, I still have his number and his email address, but I haven’t reached out to him since his classes ended.” You reply. “Besides you know how he is, he doesn’t really have any social media presence so haven’t heard anything about him since." 

“Both of you did come to terms, right?” He asks, to which you nod in response. “Damn, I thought you guys would be endgame you know? That kinda sucks.” 

“Right? Like, we’ve seen the way he looks at you and it was clear as day that he’s just smitten over you.” She lets out a sigh. “Well, as they always say: there’s plenty of fish in the sea.” 

As minutes passed, you and your friends continued talking about the memories you all shared during university and all the things they experienced after we graduated. Sipping halfway on your second bottle of beer, you feel yourself slowly spacing out, struggling to engage in your friends’ conversation. You aren’t drunk but you are aware enough to be tipsy. 

You look around the bar, seeing people clanking their drinks and laughing away through the night couples with their hands intertwined to each other. Despite reuniting with your friends, clearly, you’re starting to realize that this is getting boring and the idea of going home early sounds like a good idea. 

“Pea!” You snap out of your thoughts as you hear your friend call your name. 

“Huh?” 

“Are you okay? You look out of it.” Moonhead says. You nod your head, trying to think of an excuse to get some time for yourself for just a moment. 

“I need to go to the restroom for a moment…” You stand up and placed your drink down at the table. “…excuse me.” 

As you got to the bar’s restroom, you shut the door and took a breather on the sink. The more you stay inside the cozy restroom by the minute, the more you start to consider that going home is the best option.  

You let out a sigh, thinking if going home would be a good idea, especially since it has only been an hour since you arrived. 

After a moment of contemplating and pacing, you decide to stay for a few more minutes so that leaving wouldn’t feel awkward. 

“Yeah, I’ll do that.” You thought to yourself out loud then unlocked the door open. 

While you were about to approach your friends’ table, you heard a distinct voice coming from the bar’s counter. 

“A glass of whiskey please,” he says. You turn to see a familiar figure sitting near the counter isolated from the buzzing people. His hair fixed properly, his glasses reflecting the warm lights in the room, his attire styled in a particular manner… 

No—it cannot be who I think it is, is it? You thought to yourself.  

As you come closer, you feel your heartbeat beating every step you take. 

“Andrew?” 

He turns around and looks at me, his gaze softens at you. “It’s you.” 

You end up cracking a smile as waves of different emotions washed over you. “May I sit?”  

“Please,” He gestures, making me sit beside him while he sips on his drink. “Would you like a drink?” 

“No, I think I’ve had enough alcohol for tonight.” I chuckle while he does the same. “It’s…It’s been a while,” 

Andrew nods before taking another sip. “It has.” He puts his glass down. “Well, this is an unexpected kind of setting for us to see each other again.” 

“Yeah.” You start to fidget your hands as you feel your palms start to sweat. “You come here often?” You ask. 

“Oh no, it’s my first time being here so I decided to come here by myself.” He takes the last sip of his drink and sets aside the empty glass.

Worried that I might be interfering, I hesitantly ask...“Did you bring someone with you?”

“No, it's just me.” He chuckles. “I should be asking you the same thing, what brings you here?”

“My friends invited me here to catch up and chat.” You shrug to which Andrew nods in response.

“Friends from university?”

“Yeah actually,” You glance at your friends' table, looking unfazed by your disappearance as they laugh on their seats.

“It's good to know that you still keep in touch with them,” Andrew watches them along with you.

Should I say how I feel?

The thoughts inside your head go back and forth, contemplating whether talking about the night he last visited your place was worth mentioning.

Andrew notices the confused look on your face, making him concerned. “Is something on your mind?”

“There is, actually,” You respond immediately, deciding not to hold back. Andrew's expression became serious.

“What's on your mind?” Andrew asks.

Before you could respond to Andrew, you notice your friends watching over us with grins plastered on their faces. They mouth “Go” and “We'll be fine” gesturing to go for it.

“Would you like to talk about it somewhere private?” As Andrew was about to face your friends' direction, they immediately turn away and hid themselves with muffled laughs.

“Sure,” We both got up from our seats and headed our way towards the bar's exit.

As you and Andrew got out of the place, both of you walked further away from the bar to be somewhere quiet.

Andrew stands across from you as he waits patiently for you to speak.

You let out a sigh. “I'm sorry if this is a bad time but...”

“No, this isn't a bad time at all.” Andrew shakes his head as he steps closer. “Take your time.”

“I never got to reach out to you since I left.”

“I already told you I will always support you whatever decision you choose.”

“It's not that, Andrew...” Your voice starts to tremble as your emotions start to hit you like a truck. “I never got to tell you because I didn't want to be a burden to your job as a professor. I understand what that means to you, and...” Before you could continue your sentence, tears form from your eyes trickling down to your cheeks.

“You are never a burden to me,” Andrew shushes as he pulls you into his arms, causing you to cry even more. “I don't regret the things we have done in the past, and I certainly don't regret choosing to love you.” He pulls away, cupping your face to wipe your tears from your cheeks

“I'm sorry,” You let out a chuckle as your lips quiver. You have always reenacted in your head what it would be like meeting Andrew when you get the chance, crying in front of him was definitely not what you had in mind.

Andrew pulls you back into his arms while your emotions kept overflowing. Both of you stay that way, feeling a sense of comfort enveloped by his warmth despite the cold breeze. The memories you used to share with him are coming back to you.

“Feeling better?” Andrew asks.

“Mhm,” You pull away from him as you start to collect yourself. “I didn't mean to soak your coat with my tears.”

Andrew chuckles. “No need to feel ashamed,”

“Okay,” You take a deep breath, finding the words you've been wanting to say. “I thought that once that I graduate from university, I would move on and find someone else that gave me the same feeling that I had with you. I waited for weeks, months, hoping that it would happen one day but…” you look into his eyes, almost getting lost in them. “…At the end of the day, everything always comes back to you.”

“Darling…”

“I still want you, Andrew.” You declare, shaking your head as you crack a smile. “After all these years, it's still you that I long for.”

Andrew stands still speechless, his gaze still focused on yours. The way he's looking at you makes you reminisce of that day—that day when he first kissed you, when he shared those moments with you back in his office, when he gave himself in to hold your hand, everything—it all comes back to you that you immediately look away as you start to feel overwhelmed.

“I apologize for being too forward,” You look down on your shoes. “I thought it would be a better time to give you, both of us, closure than saying nothing at all.”

Andrew intertwines his hand to yours, making your heartbeat rise rapidly.

“Darling,” he gently squeezes your hand as your calm demeanor tarnishes in an instant. “Look at me…”

As a sob escapes from your lips, you follow his request. Andrew comes closer to the point you can feel his breath on yours, lifting your chin with his thumb.

And before you knew it, Andrew leans in as he presses his lips to yours. The spark you thought once lost ignites like a burning flame. You kiss back, sharing your warmth with his. It almost feels as if nothing has changed at all. The ache you felt all those years of longing seem to have washed away by the minute.

As both of you pull away, Andrew looks at you once more. His gaze radiating love and comfort. You suddenly don't even remember how to speak, making Andrew grin as he fixes your hair.

“I never stopped loving you, and frankly, I never will.” Andrew kisses your hand that's still intertwined with his. "I meant it when I said I've never felt like this with anyone until I met you." You start to tear up again as his words felt like a tug to your heartstrings.

“Do you think…do you think we can still figure things out? Together?” You've become completely vulnerable towards him. Normally the thought of yourself begging (or asking for that matter) for someone cringes you, yet here you are doing it anywag. You already prepared yourself for the worst, so you held your breath.

Andrew notices your hesitation and holds both of your hands. “We will, together.” I wrap my arms around him, feeling like my heart was about to come out of my chest.

“I missed you…so much.” You confess, making Andrew chuckle at the sight of you.

“I'm here now,” he kisses your forehead and smiles. “And I'm not going anywhere.” Both of you slightly sway as your arms were wrapped around each other's bodies.

A thought comes to your head, giving you a chuckle. “I wonder how crazy it would be what our relationship would be like if we were in the alternate universe,”

Andrew laughs at the idea you gave. “If there ever was an alternate universe, I suppose whatever path we take, it is inevitable for both of us to be together.”

“You think so?”

“Mhm, I do.”

×××

[sunandflame]

An Angel in Human Form

Warnings: It's so tooth rotting fluff, thats the only warning I can give.

Word Count: 1458

Pairing: Photoprapher!Kyojuro x Reader

A/N: As the poll has decided here is the second part of Kyojuro as a photographer. I really love how it turned out and I hope you all enjoy this as much as I did! I also wanna thank my beta reader and editor @desi-the-blue-eyed-kakushi ❤️

Part 1 (drabble) / Part 2

"Can I see it?"

He looked at you with his big owlish eyes. "What?"

"Can I see the pictures you took?"

Oh. Now he understood. A foreign anxiety spread through him, and he didn't know how to deal with the situation. He wasn’t usually speechless, rather the opposite was often the case, but now - he could only stare at you.

"Did you not take some of me earlier?" You cocked your head while giving him a soft smile and he could feel the heat in his cheeks again. Nothing like this had ever happened to him and he was usually not the shy type.

"Yes, yes I did!" His voice was boisterous, and he bit his tongue, hoping he didn't startle you, but the opposite seemed to be the case. You smiled patiently and shifted your gaze from him to his camera.

He stood next to you to show you the pictures on the small screen. The sudden closeness had his throat tightening up. "Wow... These are beautiful. I like how the light falls here and how you captured the mood..."

"My photo exhibition is in 2 weeks! I would be very happy if you could come." He almost shouted at her and rummaged around for a small invitation card that he’d actually wanted to give to his friend Tengen today - but that could wait as he could get him another later. "All you have to do is show them this card and they'll let you in."

You took the card and read the name on it out loud. "Kyojuro Rengoku..." His name on your lips sounded like angelic dream and he wanted you to repeat it, but you simply looked up. "I promise I’ll come! But I have to go now, so have a nice day!" You gave him a bright smile before turning and walking away. He looked after you and at how the wind blew around your white dress. Kyojuro was unable to move, still awestruck from the beauty of your smile.

2 weeks later...

Kyojuro was nervous and Tengen wasn't used to see his friend in such a state. "Hey calm down. You will see, your exhibition is going to be flamboyant!"

If only it were that. It had been 2 weeks and in those 14 days he hadn't spent a second not thinking about you and your beautiful smile. It probably didn't help that there were three big pictures of you on the wall. One was how you were having a friendly conversation with a homeless man who too seemed stunned by your beauty and the other was how you crouched down, petting a stray cat with a gentle smile, and let her ensnare you. The last picture was the first he shot of you. How the wind blew your hair and you tried to stroke it away from your face with a gentle movement. These pictures of you turned your inner beauty outwards. Pictures that showed what a kind nature you were. The portraits were hanging side by side with the caption 'An angel in human form'. That might have seemed a bit exaggerated, but not in the eyes of Kyojuro, because that was what Kyojuro saw in you and these pictures, and he wasn't ashamed of it either. Of course, there were other pictures in his exhibition. Pictures of traditional Japanese still life, and kendo and sumo fights that showed the beauty and simplicity, but the eye-catcher was the three pictures of you.

Several hours had passed since the opening and there were still no signs of you. The hope in Kyojuro that you would eventually come was slowly fading away since there was only half an hour left. He was talking to someone when he heard a familiar voice. His head jerked toward the entrance so quickly that someone might think that he twisted his neck, and he couldn't believe his eyes.

You were wearing a red dress that gently caressed your hips. Your hair in an improvised updo wearing a subtle makeup. He took in every detail of you, inhaled it and saved it for eternity like his photographs on the walls. All the doubts he had before vanished. He saw your apologetic smile towards the security man while you searched desperately for the invite card in your purse, which he had given to you 2 weeks prior. It seemed that you couldn't find it, but you remembered the address and his name all this time?

"She is a VIP guest of mine." Kyojuro stepped in and signaled the security that he can let her in.

"Oh hello!" Your face blossomed into a sunny glow when you saw him, and he felt his heart leap at this sight.

"You made it. You came." It was like the sight of you in that beautiful red dress took his breath away.

"Yes of course!" You took a step towards him giving him a big smile. "I promised you, didn't I?"

Kyojuro looked at you in surprise at first before giving you a gentle smile and reaching out to take your hand. "Yes, you have." You took his hand and felt the warmth he radiated. His hand was so comfortable and big that you didn't want to let go. Kyojuro showed you around and you studied his works enthusiastically. You were amazed by the beauty he captured with his lens. Tengen watched his friend from afar and gave him a thumbs up and wink while he took care of the rest for Kyojuro so he could spend time with you. It was good that you came late, there weren't many people left and you had all the time in the world to look at his works in peace.

"You are so talented! I love how you captured the beauty of the people and the environment. Is that you in that Bōgu, by the way?" You stood in front of the photograph with the kendo warrior and stood in front of it for a while. He wondered how you came up with that because the kendo mask made the warrior anonymous.

"What makes you think that?" He chuckled. He didn't want to answer you right away.

You moved and gave him a mischievous smile. "I can't quite explain it. It's maybe the stance of the person. It's very-" You stopped mid-sentence, your gaze past his face at the three large portrait of yourself.

Kyojuro turned around to see where you were looking at and immediately felt the heat in his cheeks. Shit, he hadn't considered how you might feel about this and now he felt bad. What if you didn't like it? What if you thought he was a creep? His heart was pounding, and he wasn't sure what to say or what to do. He watched you nervously as you approached the pictures with slow steps, looking at them with wide eyes. You were silent for several moments and Kyojuro was getting more and more nervous. "I-"

"Is that how you see me?" You interrupted him as you turned your gaze from the pictures to his golden-red hues.

"How I see you...?" For the second time in his life, he wasn't sure what to answer. And only you brought out that side of him.

"You really see me as an angel in human form...?" Now it was your cheeks that blushed.

A stone fell from his heart. He walked up to you and took your hand in his. "I don't just see you like that, you are one to me. The first moment I saw you." He lifted your hands to his lips and kissed your knuckles gently. The blush that shot up your face was so adorable in his eyes; he wanted more than to kiss your hand. You looked at him and bit your lower lip, unsure of what to say.

"Would you like-" "Would you like-?"

You two had been talking at the same time and all you could do was giggle. "Would you like some miso soup with sweet potatoes? I know a good place not too far from here."

"I love sweet potatoes!" His smile radiated such warmth.

"Me too! I could eat it every day" You laughed at the coincidence.

He leaned towards you. "How about we go now? I am starving."

"Can you leave exhibition?"

"Yes, that's no problem." He looked around for Tengen and nodded to him. The tall man seemed to understand and just grinned.

You watch the two of them and smiled from ear to ear. "Then let’s go." Your hand didn't let go of his. "I'm Y/N by the way! I thought you should know."

Kyojuro couldn't help but laugh. "Your name even sounds like that of an angel!"

[writingwithfolklore]

Taking Notes from Editors

I did a post on giving and receiving feedback, but now that I’ve been an editor for a little longer, I’d like to do a follow up on taking feedback specifically from professional editors.

                While ultimately writers are the rulers of their work and can make the final decisions on it, there's a lot of growth in your manuscript to be found by trusting your editor and taking their notes. As an editor, it’s my job to make your work as good as it can possibly be. It’s also my job to maintain your style and voice and make sure everything you do best shines the brightest.

                We’ve studied and practiced this goal. So the biggest thing I want to impart on you is:

1. Trust your editor

Go into the process with the mindset that you'll accept at least 85% of the edits your editor suggests. When another editor works on my writing, I accept about 95% of it, sometimes %100 (for shorter pieces).

Writers sometimes get hung up on the smallest changes an editor tries to make. Be careful not to be too precious, allow your work to be explored from a different perspective and lens.

You can always keep a separate doc that has your original piece, it doesn’t go away or get ruined when an editor works on it. While it's your work in the end, it's helpful to go into it with an open mind. Often feedback you may have never considered is the key to really elevating your piece. Make some room for your editor's opinion and expertise, trust your editor.

2. Choose your battles

If you are going to reject a suggestion, I recommend it be something really worth going to bat for. Choose your battles, and choose only the biggest ones. You ultimately know your work best, so fight only for the stuff you believe is integral to keeping the same.

This will be an easier battle to win if you’ve already accepted the vast majority of other suggestions. Does it really matter if your main character’s name is Jolene or Veronica? Maybe not, so take that suggestion so you can afford to keep her queerness, or the subplot about her mother, etc.

But going back to the trust your editor idea, don’t think about it as a battle. We are not on opposite sides, we’re both fighting for the same thing—to make your work the best it can be. Respectfully acknowledge a suggestion you don’t like, give it a day or two to think on it, and then decide if that’s something you’d really like to advocate for.

As an editor, when a writer has a solid justification for rejecting a suggestion it helps me understand their work better, and builds trust between us.

3. It’s okay you’re not perfect

Sometimes as a writer receiving feedback, my impulse is to be embarrassed I’ve done something ‘wrong’. Then, of course, I go to defend myself or justify it or attack. We don’t like feeling threatened, and it can cause some high tempers and nasty disagreements in the editing world.

It’s really important that you recognize that impulse to defend yourself, and choose not to react to it.

By that I mean, if you feel yourself getting defensive over a piece of feedback—take a deep breath, don’t answer it right away. You don’t need to explain yourself. Think on it for a bit, just try it out. See what happens when you make that change. If you still hate it, think about why. If you’re just rejecting it on impulse, you’re probably in that “defend” state.

                You’re not being attacked, and you’re not a bad writer. It’s okay if you’ve made a decision that didn’t land, or a mistake that’s kind of embarrassing.

                As an editor, I can assure you that I don’t judge my writers. Ever. When I make suggestions, it’s from a pure ‘just trying to help’ standpoint, and I really appreciate when my writers are open to my suggestions and ideas and accept or reject my suggestions with friendliness and grace.

                I’m not a super experienced editor in any way, but if anyone has any questions about the editing process, the job, or anything else about it, I will do my best to answer!

Next post we're going to talk about when to reject a suggestion or feedback because the editor/reader isn't always right. Follow to catch that when it's out!

[junk-story]

Interview: Ongaku to Hito and Sakurai Atsushi - Ichikawa Tetsushi x Kanemitsu Hiroshi, Part I

This interview is on pages 52-57 of the magazine. Footnotes are included in numbered parentheses and can be found at the bottom. Part II of this interview can be found here.

~~~~~~~

From the establishment of the magazine in 1993 to the present day, we are proud to say that, in the 356 releases of Ongaku to Hito, Sakurai Atsushi had the highest number of appearances. Including things like live reports and columns, the count of appearances is close to 130 times. We feel that it’s probable that this number will never be beaten by anyone else. Now, you may be asking why a person such as Sakurai Atsushi was so loved by Ongaku to Hito’s editorial department for such a long time. And, why he, too, responded to us as he did. The first editor-in-chief, Ichikawa, who came to see the incomplete Sakurai of the 20th Century, and the third editor-in-chief, Kanemitsu, who saw the process of his expressive style come to completion in the 21st century, discuss together what Sakurai Atsushi was to Ongaku to Hito.

Kanemitsu: When was the first time you met Sakurai-san?

Ichikawa: When I was working as editor-in-chief in Nagoya for Town Magazine. I was working as the Western music critic, but it was a town magazine, so I thought we needed to do Japanese music as well.

Kanemitsu: It was right when the first Band Boom(1) was going on, right?

Ichikawa: Right. And at that time, there was an older promoter from Victor’s Nagoya Sales Office that had come to do this over-the-top promotion of these new bands. I had no interest in them, but the way he made his sales pitch was very skilled. He was like, ‘Even though they have this sort of gaudy visual style, the melody is like a tulip.” (wry laugh)

Kanemitsu: (laughs) It certainly had that scent to it in the early days.

Ichikawa: At the time of their debut, Sakurai Atsushi didn’t really have the basics down of being a vocalist yet, but then, don’t Japanese people love the sound of a natural bass voice with a slightly sweet quality to it? However, behind that, there were a lot of strange wailing guitars, and I ended up taking an interest in them; I decided to do an interview with them, and the ones who came were Sakurai and Hoshino.

Kanemitsu: The person who was playing the weird guitar wasn’t there! (laughs)

Ichikawa: Moreover, even though they came with their hair standing up and in their full stage gear, no matter what I asked the two of them, they would only nod their heads shyly in agreement; it was a situation where they were like a “fleet of silence”. That overwhelming difference was so funny.

Kanemitsu: And the next time was in Tokyo?

Ichikawa: At Rocking on Japan. After interviewing Imai, I was kidnapped by Roppongi’s BOO!WHO?WOO!, and that was where I drank for the first time with Sakurai. For the following month’s issue, we had planned to do it with Sakurai and Anii, but on the day of the interview, we received communication that Sakurai’s mother had suddenly passed away and he wanted to hurry back home to Gunma, so in Sakurai’s place, Imai was to do the interview. When I went to the scene of the interview, feeling sympathetic for the whole situation, for some reason, Sakurai was there.

Kanemitsu: What?

Ichikawa: I asked him, “What’s the matter?(2)” and he said, “I thought I should come to properly greet you and ask you to please excuse me [for missing the interview].”

Kanemitsu: A good person who really respects the social hierarchy.

Ichikawa: It’s a good story, right? (laughs) Even though this man is this sort of flashy frontman, he doesn’t talk much and acts seriously.(3)

Kanemitsu: I really think so too.

Ichikawa: And then, as early as the next issue, Sakurai did a 20,000 character interview.

Kanemitsu: …for the No Blood, No Tears magazine.

Ichikawa: Wahahaha. As you might expect, I suppose I couldn’t touch on anything regarding his mother. When we sat down and had a thorough discussion, he was bad at speaking, but trying with all his might to do it. What came from that was how his adolescence was a rather empty(4) time.

Kanemitsu: After he graduated from high school, he went to work in a factory, correct?

Ichikawa: Yes, that. At a car factory, the job he did was screwing parts together as they came through, but it was like he agonized over it, thinking, “…why am I continuing to do something like this?” That sort of difficult-to-express feeling can really pull the heartstrings of readers, I think.

Kanemitsu. That became the heart of Sakurai’s lyrics.

Ichikawa: Yeah. That’s where it begins, you know, the “What am I?” series. Understanding that there is something there, but not being able to explain it well. So it can only be written as lyrics and sung. In search of an escape, an endless journey of self-discovery began.

Kanemitsu: Interviews became Sakurai-san’s therapy.

Ichikawa: I was his therapist, or, like his infinite hitting partner for wondering about things to himself. At the interview location, through talking with me, he would organize his thoughts and then verbalize them. It was like this repeatedly. And we couldn’t google information like we can now, and in the first place, there wouldn’t be an answer anywhere even if we did google it. So we ended up with lyrics like “Namida ukabete Deca-dance (eng: “deca-dance with tears in my eyes”) in Maboroshi no Miyako, and the kids that listened to it wrote us letters while crying, asking, “What kind of dance is this?!” (wry laugh)

Kanemitsu: The fans, readers, and even he himself didn’t understand.

Ichikawa: I think it was just that, even if you couldn’t comprehend it, the emptiness that Sakurai carried drew everyone to him. Like something a person instinctively sympathizes with deeply.

Kanemitsu: At that time, Ongaku to Hito was laying the groundwork for the beginning of an idea to materialize for him.

Ichikawa: Ultimately. (laughs) However, I think he also perhaps didn’t completely understand it.

Kanemitsu: Agreed. Sakurai-san himself tried reading [Charles] Baudelaire’s “The Flowers of Evil” and said he was frustrated by the second page. (laughs)

Ichikawa: That’s right. But, I think he had this indulgence of, “I’m good in the darkness, the emptiness in me is obvious.” So I called Sakurai Atsushi, “The Appeal of Self-Deprecation.” That’s because the lyrics written by the Sakurai Atsushi of the 20th century had these desperate contents of “I’m no good, no good, I’m NO GOOD” all throughout them.

Kanemitsu: But in Kurutta Taiyou, using the sun as a motif, I think he became able to view himself from a bird’s-eye view. And his mother’s existence is at the root of him.

Ichikawa: That complexity is the foundation of Sakurai’s work, right? But he couldn’t use it consciously as a technique. Making Kurutta Taiyou, I think even he could probably see and noticed that. And so then, when a year passed and he was face to face with the new release’s lyrics, he was back to square one again. Every time, he ended up returning back to the source.

Kanemitsu: It never became like, “I wrote this before, so I should do it like this next time”, did it?

Ichikawa: Right. Other musicians are more carefree when writing their lyrics, aren’t they? Once they’ve fallen into their own style, the only discussion is about if they should update it. Kanemitsu: When writing lyrics, do you always have to face yourself, or –

Ichikawa: You can’t escape it. On the other hand, that sort of work has some troublesome aspects to it, so I can’t dislike someone for not doing it. (wry laugh)

Kanemitsu: Meaning?

Ichikawa: The Sakurai Atsushi of the 20th century, and I think this could also be said for all of BUCK-TICK, had no progress - in a good way. Thanks to Imai’s desire for “wanting to put out strange sounds”, there was change every time, but in the lyrics, it was three steps forward and three steps back repeatedly. Because they’d make an album, go on tour, and all the time after that, the 5 of them spent drinking.

Kanemitsu: 365 days of the same cycle repeatedly. (laughs) There was an extremely low amount of [external] input, so there ended up being an absolute need for them to do the work to re-examine themselves.

Ichikawa: This continued the entire time. But, there can be no mistake that this shaped Sakurai’s unique lyrics’ worldview. One always ends up going back to the basics. It was a moratorium, in a good sense.

Kanemitsu: But they didn’t run away.

Ichikawa: That’s because Sakurai was a kind man. He knew better than anyone what would happen if he ran away. So no matter how driven into a corner he was, the one thing he would never sacrifice was the band.

Kanemitsu: I see.

Ichikawa: His rare charm was that the self-indulgent Sakurai Atsushi and the Sakurai Atsushi who took stoicism to its limit both existed together. So this troubled him, and he wanted to run away, but he didn’t. He faced things stoically, so this troubling feeling of wanting to run away is reflected in his lyrics.

Kanemitsu: In the 21st century, he began to act that part consciously. Taking himself to the limit and despairing that he was no good, no good. He would not face the lyrics while exhausted, but instead deepened his expression of them through the premise of acting them out.

Ichikawa: It may have been a shock, but in short, their material elevated(5). Really, because they were able to turn their work into art, we can grasp now how they were able to bring forth a decadent rock masterpiece like 21st Cherry Boy. Although that kind of dark decadence is seen as a negative, they established it as an excellent form of entertainment, which is fantastic. When I listened to that, I wondered, “Why has Sakurai made a breakthrough to this point?” What did you make of that?

~~~~~~~

Footnotes:

(1) This refers to the period of time in the late '70s-’80s where the sort of distinct, Japanese-but-Western-but-neither-but-both style of bands were increasing in popularity and number. Bands like BUCK-TICK came out of this boom. (2) In the sense of like, “What are you doing here?” (3) This can also mean “genuine”. I think both words suit the context, and I’m not sure which meaning he intends. (4) “Empty” here is in a negative context - an emptiness of meaning, fulfillment. (5) “Elevated” here is a word I don’t think translates well into English. This word, in chemistry, also means “to sublimate” - like when something goes from a solid state to a gaseous state, without passing through the liquid state first. I think it’s helpful to imagine this in the use of “elevating” here, too - a sudden, jolting step up from where things were before.

This made sense as a logical cutoff point because the interview slowly starts turning to Kanemitsu's experience in the 21st century with Sakurai from here. I'll include Ichikawa's question at the start of Part II, just to keep things clear.

[5ummit]

New Mandatory #NSFW Mature Label

I rarely post NSFW content so I'm not sure how long this has been a thing, but just a heads up, if you use the #NSFW tag, tumblr will now automatically apply the mature content label to your post.

A few important notes:

(1) You can't remove this label. Well that's not 100% true, on original posts you can manually change the label back to "everyone." However, if you save or publish the post with #NSFW still included, the mature label will automatically be reapplied. Aka it's now impossible (with the new editor) to publish a post tagged as #NSFW that's not flagged as "mature."

(2) The mature label is also applied to reblogs tagged with #NSFW. This is where we get into a bit of a problem. Community labels on reblogs are not normally editable. The option is grayed out (as you can see above), which means that once you add the #NSFW tag to a reblog, even if you decide to later remove it, that post will forever be labelled "mature" and locked away from any of your followers who filter those posts out (remember mature filters are turned ON for everyone by default). As far as I can tell tagging a reblog as #NSFW does NOT apply the label to the post globally though, it's just on your own blog, but it's still not ideal.

(3) This only works when using "#NSFW" on its own. If any other text is included in the tag the auto-applied community label is not triggered.

(4) No other tag (that I've been able to find) has a mandatory community label. What's interesting is I did find an official @changes post from about 6 months ago stating that tumblr "will add the pertinent label to the post automatically" when the label is used as a tag, with #violence even being explicitly provided as an example, but I tried it (along with as many other "mature" tags as I could think of) and it didn't work. #NSFW appears to be the only one, at least right now.

Not being allowed to use the #NSFW tag without a mature label is annoying, particularly for those who are overly cautious about tagging it even when it may not be necessary and particularly since it's uneditable when applied to reblogs. However, I'm not going to outright say this new "feature" is 100% a bad thing and that everyone should get up in arms about it. This post is just meant to make you aware of it.

Most posts tagged as NSFW probably should be labelled "mature" and I bet most people just forget to do it or may not even know about community labels in the first place. As much as I want to return to the old "go nuts, show nuts" tumblr, I'm aware that's never going to happen and this new community label system is our only way forward. If there's any hope of tumblr ever broadening the mature content guidelines and getting us closer to where we were before (yes, I know it's a longshot), this system has to work and it only works if people use it.

[mangekyuou]

✸     now playing  …     YOUR FAVORITE STAR。

✸     pairing! …  f!reader x camboy!portgas d. ace.

✸     type of love! …  physical. romantic.

✸     cw(s)! …  nsfw. afab!reader. ( “cunt” / “core” / “pussy” used to describe genitals among others ) oral. ( f!receiving ) no pronouns used. fingering. one ass smack. mentions of sex work. reader wears a skirt. cringey plot. not proofread. minors DNI.

✸     wc! …  2.9k.

✸     notes! …  this been sitting in the drafts for over a year. if you’re actually seeing it, i surprisingly decided to post it. i apologize in advanced. wanted to practice writing more in 2nd pov since i don’t do that often.

“No. Fucking. Way. It’s you!”

“I...I have no idea what you’re talking about!” You stammered out of embarrassment, hiding your face between the pages of your textbook to avoid his dark eyes. You could already imagine the satisfied smirk written on his features.

The black-haired man sitting across from you on the small twin-sized bed let out a hearty laugh. By how hard he was laughing at your misery, he could have easily knocked himself off of the bed. “Never expected you to be so perverted. Then again...you are an uptight little teacher’s pet. I see why you’d be into that shit.”

“Uptight?! Teacher’s pet?! Excuse me?!”

Even if it hurt, his words did hold a bit of truth. Textbook definition of a goody two shoes, living your life solely for other people who rarely returned the favor, neglecting yourself in the process. You barely had time for hobbies you had yet to discover, for places you’d always want to go, for yourself.

These days you spent most of your time outside classes either studying or helping campus. Your grades were quite great, and you had gotten along with most of your professors. You had even become a tutor, which is how you ended up in this predicament.

You were so frustrated.

Late into the night, you had found yourself up until 2 in the morning, studying for an upcoming test. An exasperated sigh left your lips as the words became a jumbled mess on the pages. You had worn yourself out for the night, there was no more information getting in. But every time you had closed your eyes to rest, you’d be right back up again.

With nothing else to do, you sat back at your desk, clicking away on her laptop in search of any kind of entertainment.

You played flash games, you attempted to read books, even going through the social media pages of your friends to see what fun things they were doing, that they failed to even invite you to. You already knew what their excuse was going to be. ‘Well, we didn’t think you’d want to go...’, even though they never asked.

Clicking from one platform to another, until you reached an ad for one you’d never seen before. The description of the ad was fairly vague, describing it as a membership platform where people could pay to view content.

Just what content was available?

You were intrigued, signing up for an account and scrolling through what the platform had to offer. There were artists, writers, video editors, and many more!

How come you hadn’t heard of such a platform? Where had this platform been all of your life?

As you scrolled through pages and pages of content creators, down the rabbit, you had reached a community of creators you didn’t even think about being on such a site...even if you should have.

Camstars.

Your access was minimal, as you hadn’t paid yet. You could only see people in pretty lingerie, boxers, or sexy costumes. This side of the site had fascinated you more than you’d wanted to say aloud.

You weren’t a prude or anything! You just hadn’t expected to see porn so easily. Maybe that’s why you needed to confirm your age when signing up.

One camboy, in particular, had caught your eye.

A tall fellow with neck-length curly black hair and an orange cowboy hat, partnered with dark eyes and a cocky smile. Who could forget to mention the freckles? Since he had no shirt, you could easily see he was ripped. He obviously took great care of himself. He even had a few tattoos.

On the opening part of his page was a short intro post where he introduced himself as “The name’s Ace. But I’ll be whoever you like for the right price.” Along with the post was a risque picture of himself posing in front of a dirty mirror with his hand in his pants, giving what he called “a sneak peek of what’s to cum. Get it?”

He was quite...the cheesy fellow. But it added to his charm. 

You were sold.

After pondering on the idea for nowhere near long enough, you clicked the join button on the cheapest membership tier, gaining access to most of his posts and a little automated message that was sent to everyone who joined. Too eager to see you were what was hidden in his pants, you didn’t even worry about the message.

Luckily, you didn’t have to scroll to far. A rather poorly taken nude had appeared on the screen. His hardened cock in his hand, appearing just below the intro post with the caption, “Thanks for 1k subscribers. Here’s my thank you. Should be fucking one of you to celebrate though.”

You pressed your thighs together at the sight, attempting to soothe the dull aching in between your legs. Before you knew it, you had spent hours scrolling through his page from top to bottom. Your earphones stuffed into your ears at the max volume. Not a single picture or video slips by you. 

Your cheek pressed against the cool pillows on your bed, with your bare ass in the air, mewling softly as your fingers circle your clit. Ace’s voice in your ears, spewing degrading things between his own mewls and moans.

“You fucking love this, don’t you? Picturing my dick inside of you? Yeah?” The deep breaths, shallow sighs, the moans between his words sent chills down your spine. Your eyes were wired shut as you pictured him there. “You’d love it if I was there with you right now, huh? You’d let me claim your slutty hole, wouldn’t you? Wouldn’t you, baby?”

You pictured him hovering over you, cock buried so deep inside your pussy, degrading you for all you’re worth. You bite down into your pillow to muffle your pretty noises as you reach your first high in who knows how long.

You would eventually join the highest membership tier he had to offer. The benefits definitely beat the others. You could even send him more money on the side for special requests for eyes only, such as:

“If it’s not too much, could you record a video of you humping your pillow?”

“Only if you want to, could you masturbate in front of a mirror?”

“Would you ever try toys? Like a vibrator?”

You were always so sweet and polite in your messages, of course, he noticed you and took quite a liking to you. Ace was quite curious about you, wondering if you were struggling with a porn addiction or if it was just a hobby of yours. Though it didn’t stop him from throwing in an extra dick pic, moaning video, or birthday video for his favorite supporter.

Never in a million years would you believe you’d run into him on campus.

To make matters worse, you never expected to be in the same math class. You had nearly fainted, seeing his head full of curly hair with his orange hat on his back, as he walked past her while talking to a group of friends. You wanted to believe there was just someone identical to him. Maybe he was a twin! But it wasn’t likely anyone shared EVERY feature Ace had. Even down to the freckles and tattoos.

It was him.

The camboy you had masturbated to and threw tons of money at, right in front of you. Luckily he didn’t know your real name or face. As long as you didn’t give it away, he wouldn’t know, right?

Though he made it hard to focus. You knew what he looked like naked, it’s all you could think about in his presence. Even though you knew it was wrong, it didn’t stop your mind from picturing just what he could do to you. The dirty fantasies your mind seemed to come up with as Ace did relatively normal things, such as; falling asleep in class, asking if you had an extra pencil, or asking to copy notes.

Due to Ace’s bad habit of not paying attention in class, he’s failing. Even after trying to pay attention in class, he just still didn’t get it. Which is how he ended up, coming up to you after class to ask you to tutor him.

How were you going to tell him no?

Now here you sat in his dorm room, face shoved into your textbook, trying to hide from him as he discovered that you are not only one of his subscribers but his highest-paying one as well.

Seeing a notification from the platform appear across your phone screen, teasing you a little as he snatched your phone away. Defending yourself, as you tried your hardest to get it back before he saw too much. But he was too far gone, wanting to see what creators you were supporting, coming across his own account.

He was stunned for a moment, before laughing as you finally snatched your phone back and sat all the way on the other end of his bed. He scooted closer to you, taking the textbook in your hands and setting it down on the floor. “I never expected my best supporter to be so close to me. It’s almost cute, how you tried to hide it. You know, you could have just told me.”

His hand found its way onto the plush skin of your thigh, slowly inching toward the hem of your skirt. You had tensed up a bit at his sudden touch. You placed your hand on top of his, stopping him from moving up any further. Though you did not remove his hand.

“It’s...embarrassing...” You trailed off, your eyes had stayed on the placement of his hand, “It’s nothing anything you, of course! You look great! I mean...”

“Thank you,” He chuckled, “But I know what you meant. I don’t think you should be embarrassed by it. We all have our needs, right?”

Of course, you agreed. it’s how you ended up becoming his top subscriber. Ace brushed your hand off of his, making contact with your thigh once more. He leaned close to your ear. He continued, “You work so hard every day. You always put everyone’s well-being before your own, even mine. Plus, you always tip me so generously and you’re so sweet to me. You take such great care of me, ( y/n ).”

You could feel his plump lips grazing the shell of your ear, setting your skin ablaze. Though he was not finished yet, “Can I show you how thankful I am to my favorite subscriber?” It felt like the magic word to make her putty in his hands. It was one thing to hear him say it through your earphones into the night with your hand stuffed into your panties. It was an entirely new experience to hear him say it in person, his hand just above the place you craved him.

“I would love that,” Your words came out a mere pathetic whisper.

“Your wish is my command,” He smirked before leaning in to capture your lips in a passionate, desperate kiss. His lips were even softer than you could ever imagine as they danced across yours. He slid his tongue into your mouth, allowing his muscle to circle yours.

Ace’s hand flipped up your skirt to show your soaked panties. You pulled away from his lips, breathlessly. He pressed a line of short kisses up your neck before looking down between your legs. Eagerly you spread your legs wide for him without shame. He couldn’t even hide the cocky grin, “You’re not even shy about it anymore, how cute.” 

He grabbed onto the waistband of your panties, pulling them up a bit before letting them go, the fabric snapping down onto your skin. “Ouch, Ace~!” You mewl as he finally took your panties off and tossed them aside with a laugh. But the skirt was staying. He pressed a kiss to your neck, “Sorry, starshine.”

He moved off of the bed, his knees hitting the carpet floor as he settled himself between your legs. Wrapping his arms around your legs, pulling you closer to the edge, bringing your glistening cunt closer to him. He began a trail of open mouth kisses to your inner thighs, taking his sweet time moving up to your core, leaving the occasional playful bite to make you both giggle.

As he took his time, you slipped off your shirt, letting it fall behind you. Finally, at your core, he licked a stride up your glistening folds before burying his face, making you shudder. Without wasting any time, he began to lap at your folds. He was so fixated on your core, a look of complete delight written on his features. Through his hooded eyes, he looked up to see you writhing in pleasure. Your pretty mewls and moans sound like the most beautiful melody he’s ever heard.

Your hand found its way into his solid black, curly locks, gripping tightly as you push him further into you. Ace latched his mouth onto your clit, sucking on the bundle of nerves. The band of pleasure stretched in the lower pit of your stomach, as your body wrenched under him. After riding out your orgasm, Ace removed himself from your legs, lightly tapping your thigh, “Come on, babe.”

He flipped you over gently, before wrapping an arm around the front of your legs, to pull you up, leaving your ass in the air. The dark-haired camstar was beside himself, pressing a kiss to your ass cheek, “And to think you were right in front of me all along. If I had known you were so close, I would have actually fucked you for your birthday.”

“There’s always next year, right?” You look over your shoulder at him.

“Oh starshine, believe I’ll do more than that for your next birthday,” Ace glides two fingers into you, causing you to moan. He curls his digits, looking at the reaction your body is giving him. He loved knowing that he was making you feel so good.

He swiftly removed his fingers from your hole. Before you could even whine at the sudden loss of contact, he practically shoved his face into your pussy, burying his hot tongue into you. You let out a curse that was probably too loud, falling face-first into the mattress. Your hands gripping the sheets on either side of you.

He was different than before. Like he was no longer trying to be cocky, but rather he was more desperate and messy, lapping at your folds with such intensity. His chin wet from your arousal. He reintroduced his fingers. The combination of his hot tongue and fingers was overwhelming. That second band of pleasure was already building up quickly.

“Fuck, Ace! So...good!” The second band of pleasure washed over you before you even knew it, cumming onto his tongue. He rides out your second orgasm, before pulling away from your folds with a playful smack to your ass. “Can’t wait anymore...gotta be inside of you.” He ridded himself of his clothes in a rush. He had finally released his cock, so hard, oozing with pre-cum, red with need. He needed to be inside of you or else he was going to go crazy.

But, not without protection. In his full glory, he walked over to the nightstand, pulling out a condom from one of the drawers, rolling it onto his hardened cock as he kneeled behind you.

He gripped onto your hips, fingers digging into your flesh to hold you in place, as he impatiently guided his length into your hole. A fucked out mewl left your lips, no longer being able to form coherent words. His mouth was slightly agape at the feeling of your tight walls around him, “You feel...fucking amazing!”

His thrusts were rough and fast, the tip of his length nearly kissing your cervix. You’ve never felt so full, so blissed out that you couldn’t even find the words to speak. You deserved this, to be pleasured in all the best ways, to be treated like royalty. And Ace, your favorite camboy, was the one to do it.

He leans down, pressing his chest against your back, closing in the space. He wrapped an arm around you, peppering your shoulder and lower neck with open-mouthed kisses. “My favorite star...my sweet starshine,” He mumbles against your hot skin as he pounded into you.

“Ace...I’m gonna...” You try to say between moans.

“Cum, baby,” He panted out. His words were all you needed to be sent over the edge, your third and final orgasm ripping through you like a storm. As you can, he had as well, shuddering into the croak of your neck, filling the condom. A long drawn-out ‘fuck’ left his mouth. 

He pulled out of her, tossing the condom into the trash bin before laying on his back. Without much thought, he pulled you into his embrace. “Too tired for math...let’s cuddle and nap.”

“This must be the secret membership tier that only your favorite subscribers get into,” You teased.

“That is true. It comes with the most important perk of them all, me. This tier could be all yours and only yours for the low-low price of dinner on me.”

You looked up as if you were pondering the idea, “That does sound like quite the deal. Pass our next test and you got yourself a deal.”

“Reachable goals, ( y/n ). I need reachable. Not unrealistic ones.”

© MANGEKYUOU.  

[goldenpinof]

confession time: i thought they were prefilming June stuff after Dan came back from Bath, and that's why there were no dnpg. but since Phil bleached his hair only now (like 2-3 days ago), i'm not sure there could be much prefilming. unless they decide to upload a couple of videos with Phil's natural hair and switch to blonde a bit later. which is very unlikely. because Phil just closed May with his natural hair. that's it, a new ap (if it's still gonna be ap) video in a new month will have blonde Phil. one chapter has closed, and another chapter has opened. i don't see them messing with dnpg, although i wouldn't be against it if the main vision is gayming month, new hair aside. did they start prefilming only 2-3 days ago? going for the same tight schedule as during gamingmas? or are we getting only 12-15 pride themed videos so they don't bother prefilming that much? but their editors knew about June since mid-May, so like, what the fuck is going on.

(not to mention Dan's bday, possible livestream and the cubes auction. one does not exclude the other.)

[trutrustories]

STUDY IN LOKI ROMANCE

Part 3: 1893

Since we're only a few days away from the last episode, I decided to COUNT DOWN everything we´ve got so far ( that can be interpreted very easily as romantic ) and discuss what the actual fuck is going on with second season. Because even though I shipped lokius practically from S1E2, I absolutely did NOT expect this kind of development. (Not that I´m complaining)

Warning: This is gonna be LONG post, lots of screenshots, lots of SPOILERS, lot of "oh-my-god-they-so-cute" language, and little bit of meta.

I originally thought that this post would be everything at once, but since I have just too many screenshots this time around, I´ll have to split it. so every post will be one episode. Color coding means:

IIIIIIIIII = anything, that coud potentialy be just acting choice.

IIIIIIIIII = everything else (tzn.: whatever was written, and/or carefully prepared by filmmakers. )

side note: I already wrote, about how amazing it is, that Mobius is unable to fight but fights anyway and how beautifuly, and ridiculously brave he is HERE. But this is about Loki/Mobius interactions, so I´ll try my best not to talk about THAT. (Even when I´m really happy, that s2 continues with this formula and Mobius is still his completely defenseless while aggressively brave self. I love him, btw.)

EPISODE 1 HERE EPISODE 2 HERE

Episode 3, here we go:

22) matching suits part 2 anyone, who work on those costumes: I want to kiss you all!

23) Another exhibition of touches:

the challange name is: "how close we can get, before we sink into each other"

24) "And they lived happily ever after..." They had some lokius fan in the editing room, I´m telling ya! This retro movie style transition... THAT is my roman empire...

like seriously? what is the purpose of this? I can´t wrap my head around it. someone just thought that it is really crucial to end this scene with two of them in a circle. OK.

but WHY?

It was LITTERALY used only once! (I´m sorry, but as someone, who works as an editor, this just driving me crazy 🤒🫠)

25) Loki and Mobius enjoying popcorn:

I have several things to say here:

ever heard about when one person is "forced" to have fun for the first time, and to try new things by the other person, and he´s protesting and is all about work and serious matters, but secretly loves it and is visibly relaxed and happy? - Because I´m sure this is some bloody romantic comedy trope, that everyone have seen about hundred times!

"Oh look, you have a piece of food on the chin, let me just…"

I know I already said this somewhere, but, this is the moment, where in my language suddenly (completely randomly) switched from formal way of speaking to each other to intimate way of speaking to each other. (I´m Czech, btw, and I have no idea, what happened in that recording studio but it had to be interesting)

26) Also... Bickering like married couple (part 3)

27) "You know sometimes I forget, that you are one of them... Blows my mind!"

Mobius being Loki´s fan.

Also yeas. Loki is one of them. God. And Mobius is a small, normal dude. JUST A HUMAN. Analyst, even! And they´re eating popcorn together.... also Loki will do whatever Mobius wishes

28) another "let´s be as close as we physically can" challange

Loki can´t keep only eye on him. he needs hands, because reasons

29) Mobius supporting Loki in using magic...

... or I should say Loki using Magic, whenever Mobius wishes, because...

"Will you handle this please?" "Gently!"

And on top of that... not him, explaining, what just happened, to the public, by: "The amazing Loki, everyone! He´ll be here all week! 🥳🥳🥳"

who the heck asked, Mobius? stop showing off with your magical boyfriend

30) Victor/Ravonna - the most transparent mirror ever:

THIS scene? Are you kidding? Ravonna running towards Victor: "Mr Timley! are you okay? And Mobius running practicly at the same time towards Loki with: You allright?" and both helping their man up on their feet?! IN SYNC! this is too much.

WTF

31) THE BIKE THIS. this is the most GREENLY green point, I can think of. Someone had to have this vision. This idea. And put it in to screenplay. Someone had to find the bike. Someone was shooting this. Camera is moving around them. And they were all like GREAT idea, let´s have them riding tandem bike while chasing Ravonna and Timely, that makes complete sense! (even when we have Loki chasing Brad USING MAGIC one episode back) anyway... ever heard about "let´s do this crazy stupid thing - absolutely not - and then they do the thing" trope?

32) Loki going with Mobius, not even thinking about it anymore.

And to think, that I was expecting something like S01E03 (Lamentis episode)! Once again, I wasn´t prepared for amount of Lokius content I was actually served. What a surprise! 🤯

[pricelessemotion]

Starstruck and Metal | E.M.

Summary: [4.3k] you meet eddie for the first time. it doesn't go quite like you expected.

Pairing: rockstar!eddie munson x fem!music journalist!reader

Warnings: none!

Notes: huge thank u to my bestie chuck for beta reading 🫶 also if you solve the crossword hint i love u

previous chapter | series masterlist | next chapter

InStereo magazine was not The Rolling Stones, but it was a start. The modest music magazine had a humble following, enough to earn some hums of recognition whenever someone made the mistake of asking what you did for a living. Most days, it’s great. You relish in the joy of working in a field some people only dream of entering. The leap from column writer to main article was a large one, but you insisted that you were ready. Your first assignment as a music journalist and of course you got stuck with Eddie fucking Munson. 

Any self-respecting music journalist, anyone with some skin in the game would have laughed in the face of their editor. But instead, you smiled. You nodded enthusiastically, mimicking the bobblehead that has since been removed from your desk. When you decided to become a music journalist, you wanted to write about people who were changing the field. Instead, you were being tasked with writing some puff piece being used to save a wannabe rock star’s reputation. God forbid you gain the reputation of being a difficult woman–in a male-dominated industry no less–by turning down such a great opportunity.  

Even if that opportunity included spending a day with Eddie fucking Munson. 

You paid out of pocket for the cassette of Corroded Coffin’s debut album that was currently underscoring your drive to West Hollywood. You refused to meet the frontman without having listened to their music beforehand. They were good. A little rough around the edges, but it was to be expected. Outside of the occasional headlines, you hadn’t heard much about Eddie or his band. Corroded Coffin was making ripples, not waves. Of course, no one really cared about the music when they could be reading about who and what their lead vocalist was doing. 

Still, you find yourself parking outside of a humble ranch-style home in a neighborhood full of similar housing that likely cost a fortune to live in. The modest proceeds from Corroded Coffin’s tour have obviously paid off, considering that nice area and affordable don’t usually exist in the same sentence when talking about LA housing. The June sun is beating down on the empty street, and you’re thankful that you decided to wear a T-shirt and jeans. You tell yourself that the sweat collecting on your brow is from the heat and not nerves. 

Double-checking that you have the right address, you slam the door shut on your sedan and take a deep breath. The air feels cleaner here, less smoggy. You’re not sure if it’s because of the altitude or the tax bracket of the people who live here. Probably both. You reach into your purse and feel around for what you already know is inside. Pen. Notepad. Tape recorder. The holy trinity for a music journalist. 

There were very few topics that Eddie wasn’t willing to talk about. You guess that when you’ve had your insides strewn across the pavement for everyone to see, you don’t bother trying to uphold any semblance of mystique. Beginning the daunting trek toward your assignment, you remind yourself of two things:

1) Don’t ask about his father 

2) Don’t ask about what happened in Hawkins, Indiana in 1986

The first rule seemed simple enough. As far as the public was concerned, Eddie Munson came to Hawkins at the age of 12 to live with his Uncle Wayne like how a fully formed Venus sprang up from sea foam. He wasn’t and then he was. End of story. The fact that Eddie’s management went out of the way to make sure his father wasn’t brought up only made you more curious. 

The second rule was a little harder to accept. Anyone who knew anything about Eddie Munson wanted to know about 1986. Despite the fact that his highly publicized murder charges and subsequent exoneration are part of what caused Corroded Coffin to skyrocket to fame, he’s remained very tight-lipped about the whole situation. He plays off every question about it in interviews with a smirk and a sly comment. Just charming enough to get away without answering. Just vague enough to keep people guessing. Maybe his publicist wasn’t such a waste after all. 

Eddie Munson opens the door a few moments after you ring the bell. Using a ringed hand to shield his eyes from the midday sun, he squints at you. A pair of sweatpants hang low on his hips. He has a severe case of bedhead despite the fact that the time on your watch indicates that it’s nearly two in the afternoon. The confusion that draws his brows together also indicates that he has absolutely no idea who you are. Resisting the urge to roll your eyes, you state your name and purpose before realization graces his features. 

“It’s you! Shit, yeah! You’re here for the– the thing!” He tosses a careless look over both of his shoulders before widening the opening. “Come on in.”

Eddie closes the door behind you and rushes down the hallway in order to put some real clothes on, leaving you standing in the empty living room. The inside is surprisingly clean for someone who’s gained the reputation of being a hot mess. It smells like cigarettes, weed, and lemon pledge. The lemon scent is strongest as if someone was trying–and failing–to use it to cover up the previous two. A record player is tucked into a corner, the vinyl still spinning. A line of electric guitars is propped up against the back wall, each of them no doubt costing more than your monthly rent. One of the stands is noticeably empty and you glance to your left to see a beat-up acoustic resting on the couch. On the coffee table, there are piles and piles of scrap sheets of paper. For most of them, the handwriting is too illegible to read or it’s been crossed out. Eddie seems to write lyrics like he lives his life: fast and all over the place.

Stepping closer, something along the upper corner catches your eye. Slyly lifting up a pile of paper, being sure not to disturb the configuration, you find that your suspicions are correct. Eddie received the same copy of Sub Rosa as you did. Obviously, it didn’t go over well. He’s used a pen to black out his eyes. Much to your amusement, you see he’s also drawn horns and a tail. The hand that’s flipping off the camera is illustrated to be holding a pitchfork. 

That’s not the full extent of Eddie’s doodling, though. On the bottom right-hand corner of the magazine, there’s a smaller picture of him standing next to a certain brown-eyed beauty. You’re quick to note that he’s drawn a crude halo and angel wings on his long-legged companion. They’ve been scribbled out as an afterthought, making the halo look more like a crown of thorns. 

So, you think to yourself, he’s a little immature. You can work with immaturity. Immaturity means that he won’t be as guarded as some of the other celebrities your coworkers have had the misery of meeting. In fact, from what little you know about Eddie, you wonder if he even has any guard at all. He did leave you alone here with stacks of potential songs for his band’s next album. If you were a better journalist and a worse person, you would probably take the time to decipher his chicken scratch and see if you could glean any insights into his creative process. But you don’t. Instead, you release the stack of papers and wait. 

For a moment, you don’t know what to do with yourself. You’ve never been inside of a famous person’s house before. You’re not sure if you should sit down and make yourself comfortable or if Eddie has something else planned for the two of you to do. The specifics of your assignment were intentionally vague, most likely to accommodate Eddie’s spontaneity. 

Venturing further into the living room, you come to stand in front of a shelf. Brushing your fingers across the collection of vinyl, you tilt your head to read the names along the spines. There are the usual suspects–Dio, Metallica, and Judas Priest–but what surprises you is that, in the midst of all the metal and hard rock, there’s an array of old-school country music. At the end of the lineup is the most surprising one of them all; Sentimentally Yours by Patsy Cline. It’s exceedingly worn, cracks and creases litter the empty sleeve. If you were a betting woman, you would say that the record is currently on the player across the room.

A muffled crash followed by a string of curse words breaks you out of your reverie. Eddie opens the bedroom door with the finesse of someone who is obviously used to being the center of attention. He’s traded his sweatpants and tank top for a pair of ripped black jeans and a v-neck. It felt reassuring to know that you hadn’t underdressed for the occasion. 

It also gives you a moment to drink in the blinding light that was Eddie Munson. He’s leaner in person. Though he always looked lithe in every photograph you saw of him, his frame seemed more imposing and large. Maybe all the stars just look that way when they’re so high above you. 

He was taller, too. The boots on his feet surely aided in that, given that the soles were at least an inch thick. Still, you didn’t anticipate how much you would have to tilt your head up just to look him in the eyes. 

There, standing in Eddie Munson’s rented living room, you realize something; You’re absolutely starstruck. 

Although you had turned up your nose at the prospect of interviewing him and regarded his reputation with the same disdain you reserved for bad drivers and shitty landlords, you were still a person after all. 

With all of the stars around, it’s easy to think of Los Angeles as the center of the universe. But you are not a star or anything even close to it. You’re some space debris, hopelessly floating and waiting for something bigger to come around and influence you with its gravitational pull. 

Eddie is a heavenly body. You can’t help being pulled into his orbit. 

“So, I see you’ve found my collection.” His voice is still rough with sleep. The sound makes you weak in the knees. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to snoop.” You mumble, tucking Patsy Cline back into the shelf. “You’ve got some really good stuff here.”

“Don’t worry about it. Actually, that reminds me, I have something for you.” He swiftly turns and stalks back towards what seems to be his bedroom, motioning for you to follow him. 

The blood rushes out of your cheeks. The terms of your interview suggested that you would have a lot of access, but this was different. This was up close and personal. Your feet seem to have a mind of their own because while you’re still wrapped up in the fact that you’re gonna see Eddie Munson’s bedroom, you’re already following him down the hallway and through the open door. 

It’s about as messy as you would expect. The furniture is all pale wood and earth tones, fitting the mid-century modern stylings of the rest of the house. You suspect that Eddie took the time to clean up a little while you were rifling through the stacks of paper. The bed is haphazardly made. There’s an ashtray on his bedside table, filled with the remains of a few cigarettes. 

“I’m not supposed to smoke inside. Shh.” He brings his index finger to his mouth, pink lips barely brushing the skull ring he’s wearing. “Don’t tell anyone.”

You let out an airy laugh. Being reprimanded for smoking inside is the least of Eddie’s worries and you both know it. 

Eddie’s nimble fingers skim the top of the dresser, brushing aside even more sheets of scrap paper. A couple of guitar picks plummet to the floor, but he pays no mind. 

“I heard that metal isn’t usually your thing.” He remarks, still sifting through the clutter. 

That much is true. While you dabbled in a little bit of everything, not only as part of your job but also as part of your interest in music, metal wasn’t usually the genre you gravitated towards. In fact, the most metal album that you had listened to recently was written and produced by the man standing in front of you. 

“It’s not, but I’m open to everything.”

“Aha! Here it is.” Eddie holds up the cassette like it’s the key to the universe. Handing it to you, you can see that the writing on the sides is reminiscent of what you saw in the living room, though slightly neater. You’re familiar with some of the bands listed, but the songs don’t ring a bell. “I thought I would broaden your musical horizons.”

You gawk at him. For someone whose job is about words, you can’t find any. He took the time to make you a mixtape? 

“Track five is a personal favorite.” Eddie says, leaning towards you and tapping the tracklist, obviously unshaken by your inability to form a coherent thought. 

“Thanks. I’ll give it a listen.” You manage to choke out, tucking the cassette into the front pocket of your purse. 

Looking around the room, you see that there’s a battered copy of The Lord of the Rings on his bedside table. The corners are frayed, and you’re certain that you could accidentally tear the cover off of the paperback if you’re not careful. Cautiously, you trace the spine with your finger, waiting for Eddie to say something. To tell you that it’s the one thing that’s off limits. But he doesn’t. He just stands there, watching you. Opening it, you can see Property of Eddie A. Munson written underneath the title in a childish scrawl. 

“You like books? I mean–you’re a writer, so of course you like books–I mean, have you read that one?” Eddie is visibly flustered, the words coming out of his mouth at an alarming rate. It almost makes up for the way he rendered you speechless moments ago. 

“I’m more of a Dune girl myself. But, I love The Lord of the Rings. My dad used to read it to me before bed every night.”

“Yeah?” A small smile tugs at his lips before he practically whispers his next words. “Mine too.” 

A flash of something you can’t quite decipher crosses Eddie’s face. 

“Right! Where are my manners? Would you like something to drink?” He shuffles out of the room like his life depends on it. You’re still reeling at the fact that he brought up his dad unprompted. Keeping a brisk pace, you put the book down and follow him into the kitchen.

“We have…” He trails off, opening the door to the refrigerator. “Nothing.”

He shuts the refrigerator and dashes to the table by the front door. He mumbles to himself before grabbing a few things, shrugging on a jacket, and finally turning to face you again. A pair of sunglasses covers the half of his face that isn’t plastered with a mischievous grin. From the tips of his fingers hangs a set of car keys.

“You hungry?”

–

You should’ve known that Eddie Munson would try to kill you within 20 minutes of meeting him. Lifting up the garage door, he reveals that the car keys were in fact, not car keys but keys to a motorcycle. The vehicle in question is an absolutely stunning deathtrap. It shines so beautifully that you can see your terrified face in the warped reflection. 

Putting his helmet on, Eddie straddles the bike and looks at you. 

“C’mon.” Eddie smiles wolfishly, tilting the spare helmet towards you. “I’m a safe driver. Promise.”

You’re still standing frozen. His wolfish grin melts into something more patient.

“Hey, if you don’t want to take the motorcycle, just say the word. I’m not gonna make you do anything you don’t wanna do.” 

Despite the sincerity in his voice, you can’t help but take the words as a challenge. 

“No, it’s fine. I’m fine.” You profess, though the shake in your voice is evident. Grabbing the helmet out of his hands, you ignore the way your face heats up when your fingers brush.

Eddie takes gross advantage of California’s lane-splitting laws, leaving you clinging to his leather-draped torso for dear life. Outside from the occasional shout of assurance that you can’t understand, the ride is quiet but for the roar of the bike and the wind in your ears. You’re vacillating between being absolutely terrified of crashing and secretly relieved at the fact that you didn’t have to make small talk on the drive from his place to wherever he was taking you. 

You were very close to liking Eddie Munson. Now, you were sure that he was sent as some kind of karmic punishment.

“Parking in L.A. is always a pain. That’s why I love this baby,” He gingerly pats the handles as he kicks the parking brake down. “She can fit basically anywhere.”

You hum in agreement, mostly just happy to have made it to your destination in one piece. While Eddie hops off the bike with ease, you have a little more trouble. Swinging your leg over, your toe catches on the fuel tank, causing you to stumble and nearly fall to the ground. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see that Eddie is biting back a smile. He offers a calloused hand out to you. You brush it away out of embarrassment, planting both feet firmly on the ground and taking in your surroundings. 

You had expected Eddie to take you to one of L.A.’s finer dining venues. Somewhere with fancy mood lighting and clientele with pockets so deep that they don’t even bother to put the prices on the menu. His management was footing the bill, after all. 

The building that sits before you is none of those things. The diner is old and slightly dilapidated. Graffiti mars the stucco that hasn’t already crumbled away. The neon sign that says Zazie’s! blinks drowsily, more of an eyesore than eye-catching. 

Eddie opens the door for you. As the bell above it jingles, you’re hit with a rush of conditioned air and canned nostalgia. The walls are covered in artifacts from a bygone era of poodle skirts and letterman jackets. A lonely jukebox sits in the corner, playing a soft hum to a Billie Holiday song you have long forgotten the name of. 

A plump woman sits behind the counter doing the crossword in the newspaper. Likely, the same one you were doing that morning. A thoughtful look is etched into her soft features, and you wonder if she’s also stuck on 57-down: Idle during the heist. The ten-letter space confounded you so much that you were almost late. Luckily, it doesn’t seem like Eddie is the type of person to care too much about punctuality.  At the sound of the bell, she looks up, squints, and smiles. 

“Is that you, Toto?” The glasses that sit on the tip of her nose are attached to a chain around her neck. She lets them fall to her chest, her voice bright and amiable. 

“You know it is, Dorothy!” Eddie gushed, an award-winning smile back on his face. 

They fall into easy conversation, making it obvious that he’s a regular here. You keep glancing at him trying to find hints of ingenuity but there are none. Eddie regards the woman with the warmth and respect that you would expect from a boy scout, not a rockstar. 

Sliding into a booth, Dorothy hands you both a menu and leaves to make a fresh pot of coffee. 

“You have to try the french toast, it’s divine.” Eddie barely steals a look at the laminated folder before folding it back up and putting it down on the table. 

“I’ve never really been a french toast person. I don’t know if I wanna risk it.”

Eddie gives you a pointed look, sunglasses slipping down the slope of his nose. “You rode a motorcycle. How much more risky is a plate of french toast?”

“Maybe that was all the risk-taking I had in me for one day.” You force yourself to shrug noncommittally. You don’t know why breakfast food is the hill you’ve chosen to die on, but you’re going down swinging.

“Well, you already trusted me with your life.” Eddie takes the sunglasses off and tucks his fist under his chin, forcing you to look into his deep brown eyes. “Think you can trust me with this?”

Suddenly, all of the fight in you disappears. There’s that sincerity in his voice again. You realize then that the best and worst thing about Eddie Munson is how genuine he always sounds.  

“Yeah, I do.”

The smile on his face is so bright that you feel compelled to look away. Eddie orders for both of you. It’s enough food to feed a small army, but it seems that Dorothy is used to it because she leaves the table with a wink and says if y’all need anything just holler! 

“Do you mind?” You say, pulling out the notepad and pen from your purse. 

Eddie freezes for a fraction of a second. It’s almost imperceptible. Almost. In the small amount of time you’ve known him, it has become abundantly clear that Eddie wears his heart on his sleeve. Recovering quickly, he gives you the go-ahead and smiles. For the first time today, his grin doesn’t quite reach his eyes. 

“So,” You begin, clicking the button on your ballpoint. “I have to ask. Toto?”

Eddie barks out a laugh. He goes on a whole spiel about how he was having a terrible day and walked into the diner feeling homesick and hungry. When he first came to L.A. he felt like Dorothy stepping into the technicolor world of Oz. Once the novelty wore off, he found himself missing when the world used to be so black and white. Upon telling the wise waitress, aptly named Dorothy, she lovingly told him, Toto, I’ve a feeling we’re not in Kansas anymore. The nickname stuck ever since.

The story almost sounds rehearsed. A perfect sound bite that shows how you can take the boy out of the Midwest, but you can’t take the Midwest out of the boy. And yet, you feel inclined to believe him. Eddie just seems to have that effect on people. 

The food finally arrives and you’re amazed to find that Eddie’s eyes are not bigger than his stomach. He talks about music and his band in between bites of pancakes and hashbrowns, both of them drowned in an inch of syrup. He speaks of his friends back in Indiana with a certain fondness, but you can’t help but notice how avoids naming his hometown. He also never refers to Hawkins as back home, instead saying where I’m from.

Conversation between the two of you flows as easily as the never-ending coffee from Dorothy’s pot. It’s almost too easy to forget that this is an interview. Remembering yourself, you take a moment to ask Eddie one of the harder-hitting questions you have in your back pocket.

“What about Evelyn Chau?”

Eddie winces. The open book that was sitting before you shuts tight with a resilient slam. The mouthful of pancakes and syrup seems to turn to sludge as his chewing slows. Despite having no regard for table manners earlier, he points at his lips and holds up a finger to indicate that he needs a minute to swallow. 

After taking a sip of coffee and wiping his mouth with a paper napkin, he slouches in his seat and crosses his arms defensively. 

“What about Evelyn Chau?” He repeats your question back to you but with an unmistakable air of forced nonchalance. 

You want to crumble under his pointed gaze, but you don’t. You steel yourself with the reminder that asking uncomfortable questions is part of your job description. Besides, it would raise many more alarms if you didn’t ask about the raven-haired model spotted painting the town with him than if you did. 

“Everyone wants to know if you’re together.”

“Everyone.” He exaggerates the word, using his index finger to trace the lip of his coffee cup. “Does that include you?”

The smirk on his face indicates that he’s either messing with you or flirting with you. Maybe both. 

“Well,” you demure. “are you?”

“Evie is just a friend.” Eddie’s still perfectly composed, but the familiarity with which he says her nickname betrays him. His face twitches when he catches his slip-up. “A really close friend.”

It’s already too late. He couldn’t convince you that she was just a friend if he tried. A flash of a crossed-out halo and crooked angel wings comes to mind. 

You’re about to ask him another question, but Dorothy and her impeccable timing interrupts the moment by placing the check on the table. Eddie throws down a few bills from an old leather wallet, while you’re trying to figure out how you can spin a two-hour diner date into an entire article. 

Eddie stretches as he stands up, the hem of his black v-neck raises to expose a tattoo on his right hip that snakes down further than you’re supposed to look. On the other side, you catch a muddled array of purple and red scar tissue. Averting your eyes, you look up and are met with a stony gaze. He caught you staring.

“What do you say we get outta here?”

Because you’re a very stupid, stupid woman, you agree.

likes are appreciated, comments and reblogs are cherished ♥️

taglist: @twisted-wonderland-of-wren

[holdharmonysacred]

I made the mistake of reading the tv tropes page for Little Goody Two Shoes the game earlier and I gotta complain because whoever wrote the game's pages blatantly just does not understand what is going on in the game's story in some very specific ways (spoilers under the cut)

No, Father Hans is not responsible for all the weird goings-on in Kieferberg leading to the witch panic, he's only responsible for about 50% of it at max, nor has he figured out as much about the supernatural goings-on as the page editor thinks. Father Hans is working to summon Walpurga into the town because he wants to ask her what's going on and who the hell "He" is because he doesn't know! He somehow can't figure it out, no matter how hard he researches forbidden magics! He's started getting onto the right track of "there's devils in town", but the Walpurga situation has confused and sidetracked him from that should-be-obvious conclusion of "there's devils in town". He's not cooperating with the demons, he can't even figure out there's two evil supernatural forces at play, he probably thought he was feeding the horses and Apfel and everything to Walpurga. I just don't know how TV Tropes Editor Person came to the conclusions about Father Hans that they did.

Nor is Old Jochen actually wrong about Elise being involved in the supernatural shenanigans, let alone being a witch! Because the other 50% of what's going on is the fault of the demons Elise is hanging out with! The crows and windmill problems, the well problems, the rainstorm and basin flooding, those were all Murim and Aziel's fault as they took the chance to mess with the townspeople while telling Elise what to do for the testaments. Even Father Hans letting Eugen's horses loose and luring Apfel into the woods were situations where ultimately it was Murim who finished the fight. None of the supernatural events in town would've happened had Ozzy and co. not decided it's time to be Hilarious, prompting Walpurga to make her own move. All Jochen is guilty of is being an absolute dick about it to the point of thinking "fearful murderous frenzy" is a good way to solve things.

The actual problem the townsfolk have is they just can't quite seem to figure out that 1. there's multiple supernatural forces at play that are harassing them and 2. the Devil is like, a thing that exists as even just a concept. Father Hans is the only one who ever really mentions the Devil and demons, and even he can't parse the obvious red flags of "oh shit, Holle made a deal with the Devil". Everyone else is only worried about the witch, none of them seem aware of the possibility that it's demons also. If they could figure out that it's demons along with witches, well........ they'd still be very stupid and panicky about it, but they could potentially combat it beyond just "fearing a witch around every corner".

also with Walpurga, hey TV Tropes editor, Walpurga isn't trying to get Elise's soul, she's trying to get Elise's body and flesh - she's obsessed with creating life and giving birth, she wants to take Elise's body and life because she wants to use her to live as a normal woman and presumably have more babies. She is, metaphorically, the kind of shitty mom who uses her kids as a proxy for the life she wishes she had, and tries to live vicariously through them regardless of her kids' actual wishes. Maybe there's something I missed or need to reread, but given how much Walpurga hollers about wanting Elise using very visceral language I'm not sure how the hell the editor concluded she wants her soul instead.

Like, surely these aren't elements of the story that are that hard to miss, right? Like, they're right in the text. I will admit that maybe the editor was a kid or a teen, in which case yeah fair if they missed these elements, if it was an adult who wrote it the page though then like. how??????

[seedsofwinter]

I have 5 boxes of Good Omens zines and merch in my house and I should NOT by the end of the summer. Did you miss these the first time around? Come talk to me!

🎶 “Don't cha wish your bookshelf was hawt like mine? Don't cha?” 🎶

Over 2 years, with a group of friends and fellow fans, I worked on 6 Good Omens print zines (plus another 7 or 8 digital only?) I wrote and was the editor for ones with stories; I did marketing for all of them. I know these books too well, their rising emotions, their jokes, the sexy bits...

Now, I’m the one who has all the physical overstock. Which accumulates..... Oh, does it accumulate haha

I’ve spent the past few days preparing to let you know what is in these boxes.

So!

Fellow Good Omens fans, drop me a line. I have all the books in the 2nd picture and they could be yours instead. I also have various merch which will need homes. Some more pics of those and books below!

This @oursidezines​ Pride 2022 book could be yours! I have most of the pride flag postcards too. Out of and low on a few.

This @WingZine could be yours! I have all postcards to join it as well. And a spare few bookmarks and stickers.

This @ineffableeraszine​ vol 3: Bookshop 1800s could be yours! I have the postcards that go with it; and a tidy number of bookmarks, the Aziraphale sticker, and the Crowley sticker. Plus the lanyard with PVC card.

This @IneffableEras vol 2: Soho 1967 could be yours!

I have the postcards that go with it, a handful of the “You Go Too Fast For Me” Crowley and Aziraphale charm, and a few pages of stickers. Plus the lanyard with PVC card.

Here's what the lanyards and PVC cards look like, so you can know! For other merch, come talk to me. 1800s' card is half an inch slimmer than 1941 and 1967.

All have an about 16 inch lanyard with "Ineffable Eras” printed in an Era-unique font. All with lobster clasp style hook.

I have a hold on all my remaining @IneffableEras vol 1: Blitz 1941 (if someone decides not to get it, or after held copies reach their destination). These were from my personal stash, so there were not many.

If you’d like to roll the dice I can take your name, but it's a long shot. Those who have a hold on a copy know it’s their last chance to get one.

I HAVE postcards, a few stickers, the Aziraphale charm and the Crowley charm, and the above lanyard.

THE EASIEST WAY TO REACH ME is twitter: https://twitter.com/OlivierHennis.

But you can message me here. I’m doing this all myself, so just give me a little time. I haven’t slept in almost 24 hours bc I hyperfixated on taking stock and doing the pictures. XD So I’m gonna go do that. [11:30am EST, May 10, 2023.]

I’ll make updates on this post if/when zines or merch are fully gone!

Thanks! And HAPPY GOOD OMENS 33RD ANNIVERSARY!