#because im always under the assumption that everyone is in the “he's great. i think he should grovel like a dog” camp like i am

[kosmical]

you make fun of byakuya because you hate him. i make fun of byakuya because i love him and he deserves it. we are not the same

[yuellii]

🪼 HI USER YUELLII OMG I LUV JEALOUSY TROPES MAYBE THAT SAYS... SOMETHING ABOUT MY CHARACTER BUT I LOVEEEE JEALOUSY TROPES. AND WITH NEUVILETTE????? SOEMONE WHO PRIABBLY DOESNT EXPERIENCE JEALOUSY OFTEN IF AT ALL???? im sold. IM SOLD. PULLING OUT MY CREDIT CARD. IWOULD LITERALLY KILL TO READ UR THOUGHTS ON IT

The Four Stages of Jealousy : THE IUDEX.

STAGE I. — Identification.

There is a threat, that a person may feel losing someone to someone better than them. "I want what you have, and I hate that you have what I want."

Neuvillette wasn’t quite sure of the sudden twist in his stomach as he stood at your doorstep, a bag of pastries tucked under one of his arms and a box of tea bags carried under his other.

Saturdays, three o’clock sharp in the afternoon held meaning: A time in which he’d arrive at your boutique, treats in hand and a pleasant look on his face. He’d try on one of your hats, maybe, for it was a prime time for tea, taken advantage of by the two of you, alone together every Saturday afternoon. It was an evening of the week where he was most happiest, though that might’ve been only an assumption. But the tranquility he usually felt standing at your doorstep was never one he could ignore.

Unfortunately, said tranquility seemed to be lacking this time around.

What he expected as another nice time alone with you ( especially since it was on your undocumented schedule—but who cared for documents, when he looked forward to this meeting every week? ) was instead being interrupted by a certain someone. Namely, a certain Champion Duelist. And maybe, Neuvillette would not be so bothered, had she not been sitting in his seat.

( Said seat was also unspoken, or ‘undocumented’ between the two of you, but still. He sat there every week—therefore by repeated pattern alone, that antique chair in front of the table should be his. )

( And sure, this might’ve been your boutique’s seating area, where everyone comes to sit during the day; But on Saturdays during tea time, he’d like to think that seat was practically reserved for him. )

“Neuvillette!” you practically gasped, facial expression turning into one of lightened excitement at seeing him. There was a blissful ignorance in your voice—‘ignorant’ in the way he was truly glad you didn’t know he was mentally annoyed at the mere fact his seat was taken. But nevertheless, the tightrope of his heart fluttered at the sound of your voice, which always sounded so enthusiastic every week he came back here. Perhaps you were just excited to see him as much as he was excited to see you—the thought alone brings a shiver to his spine.

He approaches forward with a polite smile of his own when you pat the empty spot adjacent to you on the loveseat. Ah, so the theft of his usual antique chair leaves him to sit beside you. Maybe the uninvited guest was welcomed, now that he thought about it.

“What brings Miss Clorinde with us today?” he finally asked, addressing the most obvious outlier first. When he set the bag of pastries down on the table, he watched as the Duelist eyed it with interest.

Clorinde hummed. “I was here for a small chat, then I was told that Monsieur Neuvillette would be ‘arriving soon’. And here you are.” At the recount of events, Neuvillette noticed how Clorinde threw a playful look at you. This playfulness did not stop, unfortunately for him, when she leaned forward to peek at the paper bag he brought in. “Then I stayed, because I thought: ‘What could the Chief Justice possibly say that’s interesting enough for weekly conversations?’”

You gasped at her teasing insult. “Clorinde!” you scolded with slight laughter. “Monsieur Neuvillette is a great companion for tea conversations! He’s very interesting, indeed, I promise you!”

“Thank you,” Neuvillette coughed through his words. He’s beginning to feel a bit awkward here…

“Oh?” Clorinde piped up again, just before Neuvillette could even get another word out. “There’s a lot of pastries in here, and also a new box of tea?”

“He brings them for us to share every week!” you exclaimed happily, grabbing the bag off the table and kindly distributing a treat to everyone. And that’s when suddenly, Neuvillette wishes he only bought one for the two of you, because he watches as you set down the pieces of Conch Madeleines in front of the Champion Duelist, despite Neuvillette knowing those were your favorites. Meanwhile, instead, you gave him and yourself the remaining other pastries. But surely, you wouldn’t just give up your favorites like that… Unless you favored Clorinde. Ah, but maybe he was overthinking it. “Isn’t he the sweetest?”

Clorinde sends him a casual smirk, likely to tease him. “Sweetest, certainly.”

He wasn’t sure how to respond to any of this at all.

When he eventually had to leave, Clorinde still stayed there to chat with you, and he felt empty walking out of your boutique. Emptier than usual, actually. It was certainly confusing, due to the fact nothing inherently bad happened, and he certainly didn’t want to say Clorinde’s presence bothered him, or anything over-the-top like that.

Hm.

Neuvillette didn’t get to talk to you as much as he wanted to today.

STAGE II. — Confrontative.

Where negative thoughts start to bloom as "envy." Jealousy begins to indicate love for the person, and the individual is afraid of losing that object of their love.

It’s the following Saturday when he sees you again, and he can’t quite understand why he feels an air of relief upon seeing that Clorinde is not there today.

“Neuvillette!” You greet him with the same smile and same excitement as always, and the rush of paradise courses through his body before he sits across from you in his usual seat: the antique chair right in front of you. He sets down his paper bag of fresh pastries; And upon doing so, he can’t help but smile when he noticed there are only two teacups on the table. One for you, and one for himself. “You seem a little more delighted today”—Was it that obvious?—“What’s gotten you into a good mood, Monsieur?”

He hummed. “Nothing, really.” He actually wasn’t quite sure why he was feeling so joyous today, either, but as long as you were sitting there still smiling at him, then it would all be alright. “It’s just natural, since it’s always my pleasure to spend my Saturday afternoons with you.”

Bring your hand up to cover your mouth, you lightly gasped at his words. “Oh, Monsieur!” you giggled. “I hadn’t known you could be a charmer with your words!”

He liked the reaction you gave him. He thinks he liked the feeling of approval you gave him, but even more. Neuvillette learned rather gradually that you always tended to get a happy sort-of embarrassment from his ‘compliments’. Said ‘compliments’, however, referred to mere truthful facts he’s laid for you. But there’s a certain loveliness that comes with confiding in someone to tell all your truths to, and he’s more than elated that you’re the one he trusts to blabber endlessly to. He just hopes it can stay like this for a long time: Just the two of you, enjoying your Saturday afternoon tea.

“So,” Neuvillette began, watching as you took a bite of the Conch Madeleine he bought specifically for you. He had to catch himself from smiling at you—if his duty was to buy your favorite treat every week, then so be it. “How has your week been since I last saw you?”

Your hand once again flies up to cover your mouth as you quickly finish to chew and swallow the bite before answering him. “It’s been fun, actually! I saw a concert performed by a famous violinist—I believe I might’ve even spotted you in the front row…”

“Ah, yes, that would’ve been me. It was a spectacular performance; I’m happy to know you saw it,” he smiled. Hm, if he knew you were there that night, he certainly would’ve said hello. Your hand moves upwards once more to bring your teacup closer to your lips, and now he’s curious to ask: “And that ring of yours—that’s new, when did you get it?”

“Oh!” After setting the teacup down, you quickly leaned forwards, outstretching your right arm to show off the ring to him at a closer view. “I just got it yesterday, actually. Isn’t it beautiful?”

“It is.” It really dazzles to compliment your eyes. Neuvillette catches himself thinking of little things he’s never thought before. Like the way your hair frames your face perfectly, especially at this angle. Or the way your eyes held this delicate shine he admired so dearly, only now heightened by the sparkle of the ring’s reflection. There’s a new tide of poetry unspoken in the depths of his mind, and they might as well stay locked until he figures out just what this emotion is.

When you offer your hand for him to get a closer inspection of the ring is when his breath seems almost stolen from his lungs. Months and months of these weekly tea meetings, and yet he feels this is the closest proximity he’s ever been to you. Here, in his antique chair in the middle of your boutique shop, holding your hand from across the table.

But he feels a spark that he prays you sense as well, for the mere desire of wanting this moment to last forever is enough to tell him that he is completely in love with you.

He leans down gently to reach closer to your hand, kissing your knuckle so featherlight next to the ring. “And it’s even more beautiful on you,” he mutters to you when he pulls away.

Your heart might’ve skipped a beat when you retracted your hand, but he has no idea—he was too lovestruck just now to even think properly. But you take just a moment to recover whilst he’s still stuck in his little daze; Though, who could blame him when he just discovered the ethereal feeling of falling in love?

“Thank you,” you exhaled with a smile that seemed a little breathless. “Lady Clorinde helped pick it, actually.”

…What?

Well, that was a name he completely forgotten until just now. He cleared his throat, attempting to regain his composure after the sudden whiplash of emotions. From finding out he’s in love, to the pang of unwarranted negativity for the Champion Duelist. As expected, he couldn’t tell what this uncomfortable feeling was, but he certainly did not like it.

“Clorinde was there, you say?” he tried to clarify.

You nodded. A little too happily for his liking. “We went out shopping yesterday.” Oh. “And she said this ring really matched ‘the colors of my personality’, whatever that means!” you wholeheartedly laughed. The way you spoke of her, with all this smiling and all these giggles, was making him crave for something more. Did… Did you perhaps want to see him more outside of these tea times, too? You seem perfectly fine shopping with Clorinde now, after all.

He’s never gotten personal time with you like that. It’s always been solely Saturday afternoons, nothing more. And yet, Clorinde immediately gets invited to your shopping runs, and apparently her opinion is also important enough to make you buy the ring? How unbelievable. Neuvillette bets if he was there instead, he’d buy you every piece of jewelry that you even took so much as slight interest in, because that was what you deserved. But no, here he was, not invited to these outings at all, and further stuck wallowing as your mere ‘tea companion’, and not something more.

The door to the boutique suddenly opens, and the both of you turn your heads to the customer.

But instead of a client, you were met with the face of a slightly-smiling Clorinde, ever so amused to see the both of you here again. Well, she shouldn’t be amused. Neuvillette was here on schedule.

“Ah, you’re here!” you say excitedly, briskly standing up to grab another set of tea; And now, Neuvillette can’t quite tell if you greet everyone at the door with this same excitement, and it’s not just restricted to him alone. He shouldn’t be that selfish, of course, so he thinks perhaps it should just not be directed at Clorinde, specifically.

“Pardon me,” Clorinde announced, making her way to the table after you set the tea display down. “I’ll be intruding on the both of you again.” Neuvillette wishes he had any right to refuse.

This time, now that he’s regained his rightful spot on the antique chair, Clorinde had no choice but to sit… right next to you on the loveseat—the same place Neuvillette sat last week when his spot was stolen. A moment comes forth where he now no longer wants his seat at all ( which he doesn’t understand why, because shouldn’t he be happy his unspoken designated seat is back? ), and prefers the loveseat.

Maybe it was the sight of Clorinde next to you, and the fact she was sitting so much closer than he’d like to imagine. And suddenly, that’s when he realizes he doesn’t like the idea of Clorinde being this close to you at all.

“Oh! You’re wearing the ring I got you!” Clorinde recognizes. She grabbed your right hand to immediately inspect it, and Neuvillette can’t help but feel like someone just shot him. Not only did she comfortably grab your hand like it was nothing ( meanwhile, he had to find both the confidence and the breath to even try to kiss your hand earlier ), but she also got it for you? The little detail you never mentioned: That Clorinde bought you the ring.

Now Neuvillette is internally questioning what exactly this ring means. Is it akin to a proposal? A vow? A promise ring for the future?

The longer he stays here the more insane he may be driven, he thinks.

“Sorry to cut my time here short, but I think I have to get going,” he spoke up. Both Clorinde and you looked over at him, and he figured this was a good idea—he doesn’t think he can handle another tea session where the two of you are happily talking as he sits there awkwardly quiet. “I’ll be off, now.”

“Already?” you frowned at him, and that expression almost makes him want to stay. But the sight of Clorinde still absentmindedly toying with your hand sends him into a spiral of emotions he needs to sort out. He’s already stood up to leave without realizing it.

“Unfortunately so,” he says. He might’ve sounded colder than he meant to. It was clear in your face you knew something was wrong, but didn’t want to say it out of privacy. But when he walked towards the door, hearing Clorinde continue your conversation on like normal, it was fruitless to even consider it.

He opened the door. It was raining.

It feels like he was losing your love before he could even have it.

STAGE III. — Redirecting.

Where pleasure is derived from hurting others, stemmed from unconscious feelings of envy. The envy can come in a so-called as a form of competitive implication.

The next time he saw you was around the market area in the morning, wandering the streets like a normal citizen on this wavering Wednesday.

Normally, he would have just smiled and waved at most, but this time, something compelled him to walk up and join you. “Is this where to find you on Wednesday mornings?” he asked curiously, catching your starling attention and watching as your lips curved to a smile when you recognized him.

“It is, Monsieur.” When you stepped ever-so closer to him, a mere basket around your arm being the only thing between you, he felt as if his feet had turned into bubbles, and there was a flutter of heaven around his shoulders. “My weekly groceries are scheduled for today, however I don’t recall ever seeing you on this side of the city, if that isn’t just my ignorance.”

He chuckled, “I’m usually at my office by this time, so you would be correct.” Then his arm slid against yours, taking the wooden basket out of your hands and walking a few steps forward down the market street you shopped at. “But I’m open to a change of pace, so might I join you on this lovely morning?”

The little smile of contentment you gave him when you answered “Of course” made his heart skip a beat. And when you walked forward to hook your arm around his free one, he swears to the sovereign he might simply dissolve right then and there. The closeness of your presence to him now makes his heart race in a way he feels it drumming in his chest, a feeling that is so human that it makes him almost taste the fruit of mortality. You, walking along with him as you hold onto his arm whilst he carries your grocery basket—you look like romantic partners, and he can’t help but feel sort of lightheaded at the mere thought of that.

“Ah, look!” you pointed, and Neuvillette allowed himself to be guided by the arm to a nearby vendor. “They’re selling slices of apricot pie.”

“You fancy these desserts as well?” he mused, already fishing his pockets for his wallet. “Perhaps we should purchase a slice or two and save them for our weekend tea session.”

You agreed, “I thought the same.” Then you noticed his shuffling and playfully waved off his hand, insisting he needn’t pay. “But I fear it might spoil by the time Saturday comes.”

“You want a bite of mine?” And that’s when Neuvillette wasn’t even surprised anymore to hear the voice of the Champion Duelist appearing out of nowhere. He has such horrible luck running into her, that he’s now just accepted it at this point ( or, for better words: he still has yet to accept the fact that maybe Clorinde was specifically seeking you ). She stood there, leaned against a pole with an easy-going expression and a fork in one of her hands, carrying an aluminum tin with the exact same apricot pie you were just eyeing.

You gasp at her appearance, “Sure!” Neuvillette doesn’t even have a moment to process the mere seconds it takes for you to slip away from his arm, leaving him to follow behind as you skip over to Clorinde. The uninvited guest takes it upon herself to feed you a bite with her fork—it was at this time that the Iudex began to feel like an outlier once again.

“We were actually about to buy a few slices ourselves,” Neuvillette piped in. He did it quickly, perhaps it was instinct so he wouldn’t be left out of the conversation again. “But an excellent point was brought up, that the dessert might spoil by the time we reach Saturday afternoon.”

“Why don’t you just buy one and eat it now?” Clorinde shrugged. Ah. Neuvillette internally scolded himself; He should’ve thought of that. And when you waved off her suggestion dismissively, claiming it was fine now that she let you try it, Neuvillette realized he completely missed an opportunity to have dessert with you on a Wednesday instead of a Saturday. That while he was still a man you only saw once at the end of each week, you’d be seeing Clorinde multiple times throughout it.

He wasn’t fond of the way Clorinde was still feeding you more bites of pie, either.

“Miss Clorinde,” he addressed. If only he had more of a grasp of human sociability, then he might’ve realized how firm his voice sounded in this situation that was… not so serious. “Shouldn’t you be alongside Furina at this time of day?”

“On a typical day, yes,” she answered simply. “And shouldn’t you be in your office?”

He almost glared. “No, actually, I’ve given myself the time to roam around today.”

“Oh wowww,” she teased, though Neuvillette might’ve heard it as something mocking. “Lady Furina would be pleased to hear that. Instead of being cooped up in your office or the Opera Epiclese all morning long, you’re out here at the market, even holding a basket for shopping.”

The Iudex cleared his throat. “Well, I’ll have you know that this basket isn’t mine.” There was an air of competitiveness in his voice, one that almost had him biting his tongue in surprise of himself. Because it was simply just as he said: a basket. But the fact it belonged to you, and the fact that he was carrying it for you—suddenly he wanted to boast it and show it off to the world, especially to Clorinde’s face. “The two of us are shopping together this morning, if you’ll excuse us.” His next move might’ve been bold, but the feeling of possessiveness was so airtight and he had no choice but to hook his own arm around yours once more, getting ready to turn and leave.

“So cold,” Clorinde rolled her eyes. ‘Cold’ was a word often used to describe him, but no, not here. He did not want to appear that way in front of you. “Is this really the attitude you want to spend all morning with?” she asked, this time directed at you.

Something in him snapped. There was an emotion that clouded his head far angrier than annoyance, and it sprouted from the way in which she made him look bad, like the stone-cold Chief Justice everyone thought him to be. Albeit with you, he was trying to be everything but that. Emotional, vulnerable, heartfelt, human—Clorinde was not going to take that away from him.

‘Is this really the attitude you want to spend all morning with?’ The question kept playing in his mind, as if she was any better than him? She, who most people also saw as stoic, should not be seen by you in a better light than him. She, who did not know your favorite desserts like he did, who did not make time for you like he did, who did not fancy you as much as he did—

He felt you tug at his arm, snapping him from his thoughts.

Your eyes held the same, worried look you gave him on Saturday when he left so abruptly. So jealously.

Neuvillette cleared his throat once more. “It seems you are correct, Miss Clorinde.” There was solemness in his voice. Yet he was so quiet as he unlocked his arm from around yours, and handed your basket to Clorinde. “My attitude proves to be too unfavorable for the likes of this lovely morning, I thank you for bringing it to my attention.” These emotions were too much right now; he was starting to fear them. “My deepest apologies to you both, I’ll be heading back to the Palais Mermonia now.”

He bowed his head as diplomatically as he could manage, but the skies were already darkening.

“I bid you both a fine rest of your morning.”

“Wait, Neuvillette!”

Your call was drowned by the deafening drums of his hammering heartbeat, and the patters of light rainfall from the somber sky.

STAGE IV. — Medea.

At this stage, the grip of envy appears almost irreversible. There is a hatred towards others that dominates their thinking, and happiness or success is no longer foreseen.

Saturday afternoon.

He couldn’t see you again, even if it was time for your weekly meeting, not when he was feeling like this.

Not when the sky was pouring from the mere thought of you, and how he’s probably already lost. It was inevitable for a man like him, and he should’ve realized so earlier. Three o’clock, and you were already probably sipping away with Clorinde at your side, pastries on the table and a dazzling ring on your finger. She was much more human than him, after all, and such a shortcoming became his eventual downfall.

The Palais Mermonia was quiet, though that might’ve been due to the endless rain that’s been pouring since Wednesday morning.

While it was nice, he couldn’t help but feel the silence only amplified his feeling of loneliness in this moment. Especially at this time: a time of the week in which he looked most forward to.

“Monsieur Neuvillette?” a Melusine knocked from right outside his door. “You have a visitor!”

And before he could even reply, that was when you ignored all formalities, all proper respect as you pushed your way through the door and into his office. The surge of panic he felt from your sudden presence was unrivaled to the way you made haste in getting seated in front of his office table, setting down your handful—said handful consisting of two teacups, and a bag of pastries.

His heart practically shattered. The familiar cups and bag of treats on the table, the way your hair and clothes were lightly damp from the rain—you made the effort, coming all the way here just to see him. Just so the both of you wouldn’t miss a single Saturday afternoon together.

“I believe you might’ve forgotten our schedule, good Monsieur.” A light scolding, yet partnered with the most comforting smile you’ve ever given him, and he starts to feel his hands tremble. “You seem surprised to see me,” you commented further, filling in the silence as he has yet to utter even a word. “Did you really think I’d just let you ditch me like that?”

It was hard to breathe, hard to find his voice when you were so patient with him. “Sorry.” It’s all he can mutter now, this blistering swell of emotions causing a waver in his voice. “I’m so, very sorry.”

“Don’t be,” you chuckled at him. His body tensed when you reached forward to grab one of his hands. But you felt cold just like the chilling rain outdoors, and now he worries you might catch a fever because of him. “I’ve been meaning to ask you what was wrong, but…” Your eyes drooped with a certain sorrow in their crevices, and Neuvillette found himself slightly squeezing your hands. “I couldn’t seem to find a good moment alone with you.”

He shook his head at you, whispering, “I don’t even know what’s wrong, myself…”

You frowned. This atmosphere was suffocating and just from one glance upwards at your face, Neuvillette could easily tell you were holding back something to say. Granted, it was his fault. He’s the one who’s here, sitting and sulking in his office with little to no explanation. He’s the one who’s kept you worried this past week from leaving so abruptly two different times now. If anything, he might understand how to be a human even less after this ordeal.

“Would you be so kind…” he starts, words like lumps in his throat, “to allow me to be honest? To let me ramble whatever nonsense I’m feeling for just a moment, so that maybe you can make some sense of it all?”

You gave his hands a comforting squeeze. “Of course.”

There’s a certain phrase caught dead in his tongue. And he’s never been afraid to speak his mind before, yet suddenly, your judgment of his feelings mattered much more than the truth of his words. But he was feeling so much, and if this was really the emotional baggage humans had to carry all the time, he could only wonder how most people have yet to burst from the hauntings of their own mind.

Or more accurately so—the hauntings of their own love.

These words were doomed to come spilling out. “You’ve bewildered me with mountains of emotions,” he rambles quicker than he thinks. “All from the sleight of your hand, I best believe I’ve fallen in love with you.”

He forces himself to ignore how your eyes widen in that moment, or how the grip from your hands suddenly loosens from the shock that rings through his confession. He doesn’t have a way with words, and he knows this. So in a hasty attempt to piece together a board of emotional exposure his mind cannot even comprehend, he does the only thing he knows how to: talk and talk, until he has no more truth to confess to you.

“But the feelings that came alongside my love,” he began to you, “are unexplainable.” As his voice ended in coarseness, there was such an hopeless look of utter confusion you had never seen on his face before, like he was silently pleading for you to help a poor soul like his own. “The beating of my heart when I see you… A stark contrast to the tightness in my stomach I feel… When Miss Clorinde joins us.” The ending of his sentence dropped to nearly a whisper, like he expected it to be sin. “But what I just don’t understand, is why,” the section of his brows furrow in distress, “because she’s my coworker, and I do not dislike her, but I feel as if I cannot stand her when she joins us…”

You listen quietly. He doesn’t know whether to be thankful or fearful whilst awaiting your reaction.

He continued, “But when she sat with us for tea, and bought you that ring, and joined us at the market…” This confession; It was arguably harder than confessing his love to you. Because Clorinde was your friend—maybe even closer, if he was so unlucky—and he might’ve crossed a line here he didn’t even know existed. “I felt like I hated her,” he finished.

You were still silent, though it wasn’t like he could see your expression anyways. He refused to even look up to it, choosing instead to stare down at your joined hands.

But this silence was deafening. Please, just reject him already. He let out the most exhausted sigh he has ever before, the weight of these human emotions bearing down on him. “So I was just…”

“Just jealous,” you finished for him, and he noticed in your voice how you were almost laughing quietly to yourself. The emotion you just named—he didn’t know how envy even felt like, much less jealousy ( though, he supposes he knows now ). “Neuvillette, you should’ve just told me you felt uncomfortable with Clorinde there.”

“Hm?” He was confused. So confused, that his eyes finally darted up to meet your own. And there you stood, most comforting of smiles on your face as your thumb began to trace patterns on the back of his hand.

You reassured him, “Those are times we spend together, dedicated to the both of our comforts.” Which was true, but he was ready to argue that he felt selfish that way—and that you wouldn’t love nor deserve a selfish man. “I trust you to tell me when you feel things are unfavorable,” you continued, “and I promise you, Clorinde would understand if I told her.”

“But,” he piped up, so much doubt in his eyes as if struggling to believe your words, “is she not important to you?” And now, he could not comprehend the bashfulness that raised blood to his cheeks, or the complete disbelief that you’d wave off the Champion Duelist just because of his silly discomfort. Human relationships; He feared he may never understand them.

“Of course she’s important to me—she’s my friend!” you lightly laughed. “But you’re important to me, as well. Please understand that.” His heart might’ve stopped for just a moment. “And when we have our scheduled times alone together, the last thing I want to have is you feeling uneasy when we’re supposed to be relaxing.” Your words, the kindness you shed—it was all so confusing yet so welcoming at the same time, that he feels it’s only a matter of seconds until he drowns from the sound of your voice. To feel such comfort in a person was bizarre to him, but it’s a feeling that makes him crave your presence all the same.

His eyes fell to another slight frown, voice quieter as if losing the will to argue. “But… I should not have the right to impede on a relationship significant to you…”

Now it was your turn to look baffled. The way he worded it. Oh, surely he didn’t— “Monsieur, do you think Clorinde and I are a couple?”

“Well, I certainly thought you two were getting to that state in your relationship,” Neuvillette answered truthfully, voice flowing without hesitation as if it was the most obvious fact in the world. The man who just confessed his love for you only moments ago was fully convinced you felt romance for another woman. “Hence why I was…” He turned his head to the side, shyly clearing his throat. “Envious…”

You practically burst out into giggles. In fact, one of your hands even let go of his grip just so you could cover your mouth to laugh. “Oh… Oh, Neuvillette, surely you jest!” you attempted to name whilst controlling your laughter. The Iudex was shell-shocked into pure silence, wondering what he could’ve possibly said to make you react this way, because as far as he knew, he was not making a joke. “Clorinde is only a friend to me,” you clarified. “Nothing more.”

He remains silent, but there’s a sweeping wave of new emotions that suddenly flood his shoulders.

“And if she sees me as anything more, then, well,” you continued, glancing up outside and then back down to meet his awaiting eyes. “Unfortunately for her, the love in my heart has already been captured by another.”

“By whom?” The lack of hesitation from his immediate question has more giggles escaping your lips. He looks at you, and your face tells him it’s an obvious question with an obvious answer, and yet he still cannot comprehend this even when you squeeze both his hands in yours once more.

“Who do you think, Monsieur?” And yet even after his face flushes red, he still has a focused look of anticipation on his face—it’s as if he absolutely will not believe it until you spell it directly to his face. “Neuvillette,” you sighed, but there was an air of gentleness in the way you say his name that relaxed his soul. “It’s always been you.”

The rain continued on.

But now the sun shined between each droplet, because if he could cry from happiness right now, he was sure you’d already be busy wiping his tears away. And this sunny rain continued on and on, even as he poured you tea, even when he bit into the pastries you bought, and even when he looked at you fondly across his desk, not a single doubt of your love.

And as for Clorinde, well, he might need a few more days to recover before he can forgive her for all the sporadic heart attacks she’s almost given him.

[anadrenalineslut]

i am starting to gather my thought about barbie (2023) and I have A LOT of thoughts about Barbieland in particular. spoilers below

first of all, before the movie came out greta gave an interview where she said that the film has a reverse genesis where woman was created first and man came after.

after seeing the film, I'd say Barbieland was created from the male perspective quite literally. There is a scene with the mattel ceo where he kind of boasts about how barbie cured sexism, basically. this is the lie upon which Barbieland is created but here is the thing... because Barbieland is controlled by an all-male perspective from the "real world" by men who have over 40 decades of sexist brainwashing in their heads, they cannot actually conceptualize a world where men and women are truly equal.

that is why Barbieland is set up the way that it is because men in the real world are the ones who are controlling the narrative from start to finish and they cannot imagine a world where both genders exist in harmony. they come into feminism thinking that men have to be disadvantaged in some way because that's what it means to be a "good" ally to women. however, this line of thinking literally breeds resentment in men and I am not fucking surprised someone like Ryan Gosling resonated so deeply with Ken's character arc because I'm sure he felt quite seen by the film as well.

Barbieland is set up from Ken's perspective from the beginning because Barbieland is controlled by Mattel and the board of that company is male, like the board of most companies in america are male. and Barbieland represents what MEN* think feminism is and has done for women, not what women think for themselves.

that much is obvious because even the way the characters are set up in the beginning are very shallow representations. All the Barbies have jobs but they are *defined* by their jobs because to men, once you're a woman scientist, that's all you are to them. They don't have thoughts, feelings, ideas, and opinions beyond "everything is great all the time!" because to men, Barbie is the solution.

OKAY, im getting excited now, when Barbie talks to Ken at the end of the film and she says "stop putting your value in your job, your car, your girlfriend" she is critiquing the very existence of Barbieland itself in that moment. because that is what Barbieland's value is. Barbieland is perfect because to men, all that matters is having the dream job, the dream house, the dream partner and the dream looks. they think that's all there is to being human!!!!!!!!!!

and so when Barbie is played with by a woman who has decades of experience under patriachy, she can finally wake up in her "utopia" and realize that hey, wait a minute! this is not what I think will bring me happiness. I don't care about having these materialistic things nor do I care about being an "alpha female" so why am I pretending like all this shallow shit is making me happy????

and that is why Barbieland changes to Kendom to begin with because the narrative was ALWAYS controlled by the Kens of the world and the movie basically starts there, with the assumption thst girlboss feminism and pink capitalism cured sexism and explores if that actually is "utopia" if it actually is a "dream life."

im going to end it here because i dont want to get too off topic but Barbieland is such a fantastic critique of patriarchy, it's actually insane. I love that Greta tackles it from the male gaze and works within the logic of men in this society to show why their beliefs of gender are severely lacking at the end of the day because they're focused on the wrong issue!!! its not about who has the power to get the job, get the house, get the girl, its about connecting with other people. its about experiencing every single emotion under the sun with everyone around you and talking about your feelings and just living with other humans in harmony.

it's so good, i could cry actually. greta deserves every single fucking award for this film and the writing holy shit.

[pommunist]

i hope i dont sound like i am immediately picking apart what you said because i basically agree with 99% of it i just wanted to add a couple of thoughts i had (this got so much longer than i intended i am so sorry)

I don’t like how he said to be mindful about the intentions of people who raised the question, because a lot of them had genuine concern about it being a possibility and this could have been a very serious and dangerous thing if it had been true.

i fully agree with what you said here - however i feel like the death threats/harassment he was getting kinda justifies what he was saying to an extent. in his position, i doubt he is looking at each and every account to figure out whether the individual was coming from a place of concern or was adding onto the harassment. i don't think outright dismissing things like this is a good idea so to speak, but to me it does make sense, from his pov, to tell people to be mindful. many of those people were coming from a place of concern, but i can see how some of it could have came off as less than such in addition to the threats he was getting even though they were mostly separate situations. if this hadn't been the case it would have rubbed me more in the wrong way, but i can understand why he would say it in this scenario even if its like :/.

however this is something i would encourage of everyone - he is not wrong to basically be saying check the source of where you are getting your information from. i would say 90% of the people talking about it were acting in good faith, but that is not always the case, and people acting in bad faith can still have good points that should be taken seriously. it is just something that i think everyone should take note of - in any situation everyone is going to have bias and if you're going to take someones words as fact you should recognize that. that goes for quackity's words too. he is obviously biased in one way in this situation which doesnt mean he is lying in every word he says, but take that into account when looking at what he says. same goes for the admins who speak out you know?

And great that he’s saying that there has been some restructuring made within the team, and hopefully these changes will only leave the studios with competent people who are good intentioned towards everyone involved. I won’t like though, I fail to see how asking for everyone’s feedback and taking it into account to make these changes wasn’t an option. Also the fact that this restructuring ended up causing them to massively letting go of all the twitter teams as well as some other admins is still an issue.

this is a double edged sword imo - im gonna take it in two parts. he says that the restructuring is good and full of people who are good intentioned, but there really is no way to know that? i am under the assumption that he thought the first set of people were good and they weren't, and im not saying we can't trust these people/his judgement, but there truly is no way to know until things progress. id like to trust that the new management is good, but im wary just because of everything and it is hard to put trust into the new managment without seeing anything come out of it. i know these things take time, but its hard to blindly trust that these guys are good when there is nothing to prove it.

on the twitter admins/other admins, as much as i do not agree with it, it does make sense. it sucks and i hate that it happened, but it was pretty clear that financially keeping the same amount of admins on the team wasn't going to work. removing the twitter admins seems like a logical choice (i loved what they did. i wish they weren't removed. but in the grand scheme of things it does make sense to let them go first because even if it sucks the life and some of the fun out of it, their jobs were not essential to keeping the server running) but the way it was gone about was so... not it. the way they were all informed of how they were fired was just not good. point blank not good. i dont know if there was a way to keep them on while being able to pay them, im inclined to believe at the moment he probably wasn't lying and there wasn't, but it doesnt change the fact that that situation was not handled well. they could have let them go with more communication to the situation. thats what bothers me the most.

Meanwhile people will discuss these topics that are so far removed from the main issue and focus less on what the admins went through.

THIS!!! i do understand why people have brought talks about lore and stuff into this conversation - it highlights what the admins went through using tangible examples lol, but part of me wishes they hadn't because exactly as you said. people focus on these issues and not the other ones! it happened at the start of this too, where people focus on the lore/story related problems (which isn't a wrong thing to point out) but in doing so kinda push away the other issues even if that isnt the intent. sharing these stories was not to complain about pushing x creators lore to the front and holding y creator's back but to highlight some of the conditions and i wish that didn't get misconstrued as much as i feel like it has.

Hey anon ! sorry if i took so long to answer but I’ve wanted to take the time to answer everyone of your point !

-I can also see where he was coming from, and I also don’t doubt that there were bad intentioned people in the lot (thinking of a particular group of people, i think you can guess who 🟩). It’s just that it paints people who have genuine criticism/concern as just being haters, and it’s not the first time he used the "things said by people with bad intentions" point so I’m kinda over it

-YES to everything you said about researching information !!!! Jumping to conclusions or blindly believing any piece of info you see is literally doing for harm than good for anyone involved, always always try to find sources source, fact check and look from an unbiased POV the things you see. Will never forget when the union released their first statement and I saw people either saying that they were a fake account trying to smear the reputation project or that quackity was going to jail, I was like « oh my, we are cooked » 😭

-Also agree with your next point, but as you said we don’t know who these people are (and I don’t necessarily think we should know btw), so we can only hope that they will be competent and caring people who will run the studio in accordance with the law and with better work ethics.

-On the twitter admins getting fired well first we can agree that the way it was done is fucked up. And I understand the difficulty of the financial aspect (to an extent, don’t ask me details about finance, idk shit about money numbers lmao), but it’s giving « Your work was very needed and appreciated while it was free, but now that we may have to pay you we can actually do without it, bye guys ». Especially ehhhh about it since multiple Twitter admins have expressed that getting paid wasn’t an issue, the working conditions were. Though to be fair idk exactly how volunteer work is regulated in every country the admins were from so this may have played a part in their firing.

-And finally yes, the distracting from what matters. Like fans can discuss whatever they want obviously, my argument is more about Q here, like dude are you really sure the main point of contention here is to debate whether or not you were overly interfering in other ccs lore ??? Don’t get me wrong, great that you’re saying it wasn’t the case but the main point of everything was missed by a mile.

Also don’t worry your ask didnt came across as you picking apart what I had said but even if it was, as long as you’re not rude i dont mind people coming to my askbox like « tumblr user pommunist you are wrong about everything and let me tell you why »

[reliaofdreams]

ok but real talk Dragon is valid for wanting to be free of her restrictions and Saint is a self-righteous NEET whose main career is voyering(?) what is in essence a minor across national borders with his merry band of war profiteers and illegal weapons technology but one of the foundations of any stable society is that an individual gives up personal freedoms for the sake of everyone getting along, like u could punch someone like say Some Loser Cosplaying As A Parahuman Tinker at any time thats a freedom that u as an individual with working limbs could exercise but ur not alowed to do that because society decided 10,000 years ago that breaks The Law and Basic Morality Based Loosly On Innate Sapient Emotional Patterns That Arise From Certain Stimuli. Along these lines, when someone does do something Bad, even those with the most physical/societal power like weight lifters and dictators, then there is always the implicit assumption (exemplified in practice over 10,000 years) that anyone can, with enough personal ability, friends, and luck, bring an end to the Lawbreaker and their Twisted Deeds (or at the very least, time itself will bring a fatal justice because human bodies fail ~100% of the time). So basically the confidence underlying every social interaction between two or more people is predicated on the assumption that either one could hurt the other but would ultimately be avenged either in this life (by governments/family/acquaintances/followers) or the next (by gods and other spiritual means).

What Dragon wants is to basically be able to have a giant rocket-powered plutonium-metal fist pointed right at everyones head and whispering in their ear “shh shh its ok mortal bby <3 i super promise i wont splatter ur whole upper half against the pavement and/or steal all ur stuff and/or send ur cringe Gacha Life clips that u made when u were a preteen to ur ex at any moment for my own benefit and/or amusement im a good guy desu-ne? *superior canadian dab*”

Like in a story where the main character ties herself in knots for 1.6 million words straight trying to justify how her violent retributions against anyone she labels a bully is more morally sound than those of anyone who hints that maybe, possibly, perhaps she should consume the eyeballs of only half her enemies du jour, its pretty rich to think that anyone on Earth Bet would under any circumstances but pure duress give carte blanche of all major communication, information storage, and public infrastructure for the rest of eternity to a single person who is unelected, unaccountable, unknown and most of all unassailable. And keep in mind, the major difference between a machine and humans/sapient AI is the ability to change over time so its practically guaranteed that someday Dragon would have a Bad Day and Do Something Morally Abhorrent By Most Standards like send my dead-gods-damned Gacha Life clips to my other ex in the same way a human who lived for a million years and also has infinite power will probably break a law (or what should be a law) at some point.

It would seem reasonable that if say, Joe Random On Some Street On The Other Side Of The World And Is Not A Cute Newfoundlander E-Girlfriend suddenly got a button only he could push which says “Press this to kill everyone on the planet who would not agree to you being the supreme ruler of the solar system also free Great Value Hummus for life” you and everyone else on said planet would slide tackle the poor, hummus-less fool in 0.3 seconds and subsequently slap handcuffs on him so he couldn’t press the button actually, because even if he super duper promises he wouldn’t (and even if he actually wouldn’t) theres NO WAY anyone of the 8 billion other sapient lifeforms would sleep well at night until he’s firmly entrenched in the single sickest game of keep-away the world has ever known. Like would YOU be mentally ok if Joe Random also would outlive u and ur grandkids and ur grandkids’ grandkids and their dog and it was impossible to put cuffs on him or even have a guard in the same room as him or even look at him to see how close he is to caressing that lil switcheroo? Man would be on that free hummus harder than Taylor Hebert in a self-delusion contest.

(And yes most of this also applies to nuclear weapons in our world yass sword of damocles slayyy queen hang harder girlll uwu)

OK so like if its bad to put restrictions on Dragon because it limits her freedom and its bad to not have any restriction because it makes an untenable power dynamic then whats the right answer?

NONE, WRETCH!! (that I know of anyway) all I know is if I was Dragon I’d want no restrictions and if I was a human on Bet I would want restrictions soooooooo post-hoc emotion-justifications for the win, I suppose? idk lol im very tired

[ekholocationn]

Four episodes into fionna and cake, here are my thoughts (spoilers under the cut!!!)

i had a feeling not all the VAs would be able to come back (i had already read abt the whole deal with prismo's VA) but IM SO HAPPY TO HEAR THAT THEY GOT MOST OF THEM!!!! i think gumball's was different but everyone else sounds the same and that makes me so happy;;; also ROBBIE DAYMOND VOICED THE ICE PRINCE I GOT SUCH A JUMPSCARE HEARING AKECHI'S VOICE IN THIS SHOW BSSHG

i really like how they're tackling such real issues, like struggling with your reality and feeling like everything's at a dead end, it feels really raw and real which is. hitting really hard. like adventure time already handled heavy stuff for what its rating was but this show is REALLY not afraid to tackle the heavy stuff and i applaud it for that

it's also GREAT to FINALLY have an answer as to how ice king got the idea for fionna and cake, his whole speil of 'it gets beamed into my brain as a dream' or whatever he said in adventure time MAKES SENSE NOW!!!! the fionna and cake world was one of my big unanswered questions for the original adventure time series and i'm super satisfied with the answer theyve given us. it makes a whole lot of sense esp with how it lost its magic after simon returned to, well, being simon

i'm looking forward to how they explore the multiverse mechanic because its always a theme i love to see played with, it opens up SO many fun possibilites

i also love marshall and gumball/gary >w< the moment where marshall ate the cookie was so sweet, i hope they get to meet eventually cuz right now im going on the assumption that they dont know each other in that world

all in all 10/10 so far, i feel its staying really true to the vibe of adventure time just grown up a little more. really looking forward to where the series is heading, ill have to continue posting thoughts as i go

[sukirichi]

dutifully yours. [01]

Attached to the could’ve been’s of a promised happily ever after with the Crown Prince disguised under a scheme for power and greed, you are torn between choosing your happiness — or abandoning it to fulfill your duty as the future Queen.

→ unedited bcos i’m brave lazy. implied patriarchy. angst in future chapters. pure romance and fluff for now. royalty au. eventual smut. prince naoya !! i love him sm i could cry. this fic will break me, okay. naoya is close to canon but with my twist if that makes sense. drama in future chapters. oh and listen to this while reading <3

→ massive shoutout to my besties for always hyping me and helping me uwu, i present this token of prince naoya being an ideal husband okay cry cry i love him sm im crying. anyways pls enjoy bcos i poured my heart out to this and bcos i want more people in the naoya fucker club :>

one | next (to be posted)

Ever since the day your mother taught you how to read, you’ve had your nose buried in a book. Losing yourself in different worlds, swooning over fictional princes, and fantasizing for a love story ripped out of fairytale itself with such burning, passionate romance – you’d been through it all, dreamt of it all. And yet, you struggled to stop yourself from tugging at your dress.

The tight corset hadn’t even been the main focus of your worries, and neither was the heavy rivière resting on your collarbones.

“Would you stop fidgeting?” Beside you, your mother pursed her lips, fingers decorated with jewels stopping in their movements of fanning herself. The temperature hadn’t been particularly high inside the limousine that evening. You supposed it was the mere sight of you tugging and gulping audibly every now and then, gloved hands running over the hems of your collar.

You ducked your head down. “Sorry, Mother. I can’t help it.”

“Dear, your anxiety is written all over your face,” she sighed, turning your face to her as she cupped your cheeks. Smiling tenderly like a mother always did, your heart felt soothed even by the slightest bit. You wished she could keep holding you like this – like you were a fragile flower she was afraid of breaking; a fragile flower that needed more care handled than most. Tonight, however, you felt a hundred years older. Like you’d accidentally clicked on fast forward and got launched to the future. A future that seemed so unclear yet so...perfect. So right.

“How would the Prince fancy you if you’re sweating bullets like that? It’s not a good look for a marquess’ daughter.”

At the mention of the Crown Prince, your heart sank again. “My apologies, Mother. I’m just rather nervous. It’s the Crown Prince we’re talking about here.”

“He is quite the looker, isn’t he?” she giggled behind her fan, “Strong and handsome, as well.”

“My ladies. You are not fantasizing over the Crown Prince in my presence, are you?”

Crossing her leg over the other, your mother leaned forwards, elbows on her knees as she winked at your father. The marquess had his torso half twisted from the passenger seat, glaring playfully at your mother’s unabashed features. “It is of no seriousness, My Lord. I’m simply easing your daughter’s nerves.”

Your father sighed in worry. “What’s got you so worked up, child? You are beautiful. The Prince would be blind to not notice you.”

Each fibre in your body screamed in desperation for your father to be right. Tonight was not just any other night – the entire Kingdom, including noblewomen, foreign royals, and unwed daughters from honourable families had been invited to the Zen’in Castle for one purpose only: to find his Crown Prince a suitable wife, one that would be fit to be the next Queen as well. As the daughter of the marquess, you’d naturally received the invitation. It felt just like yesterday when the mail arrived and you’d cheered so much in joy the chickens went flying out of their coops, your horses galloping and whinnying at surprise, and now you here – minutes away from the palace where you were soon to be deemed worthy or unworthy to be beside His Highness.

With a shaky smile, you dug your nails into your thighs. “Well, we’ve only met once, Father. I doubt the Prince would remember me.”

“Just smile, darling. You will do great.”

To no one’s surprise, the Zen’in Castle brimmed with people and esteemed guests. Men and women danced with one another as muted chatters and chuckles blended in with the grand royal orchestra, everyone dressed to the nines and making you feel completely out of place.

The moment you’d been welcomed by the knights and led to the palace doors, your dress began to feel tighter than usual, your ribs clenching uncomfortably from the pressure. Your hands had not stopped trembling either, not even when you hid it behind your back and nodded at the people passing by. There were governor-generals, dukes, earls, professors and royal advisors and even families of the royal family’s inner circle of knights. Everyone looked like they belonged here. Chatting amongst one another over the finest of wines or discussing conspiracies on where the Kingdom of Zen’in would be in the next sixty years of the future King’s reign, no one here seemed to be out of place.

Everyone except you.

A warm hand was suddenly placed on the small of your back, making you gasp. Your mother’s smile was nothing short of warm as she held you close to her one last time, leaving a kiss on your forehead. You didn’t even realize how much you shook until she clasped her hands with yours. “Calm down, dear,” she reminded, “You’ll be on your own now. This is where we leave you since we’re not supposed to mingle with potential princesses.”

“Mother!” Your eyes widened in embarrassment. Looking around frantically, you bit your lip in fear someone must’ve heard.

Of course, while it would be no surprise most guests – if not all – hoped that their daughter would be the Crown Prince’s chosen fiancée, it still felt wrong to boldly assume such when you could barely keep up with the events of tonight.

However, your mother merely laughed. “I am proud of you, dear. Never forget that. It doesn’t matter whether you are chosen or not. We’re only here for formality and respect to the King and Queen’s demands.”

“You say that as if the Crown Prince really would not bother with me.”

“We didn’t mean that,” your father cut in, a flute of champagne already nested between his calloused fingers. Ever since you arrived, he’d been snatched away by fellow earls and barons, disappearing into the crowd for a ‘hearty conversation over one’s lands.’ You knew better than that, though. That statement always translated to which leader got to have more chances to wine and dine with the King, to which your family was ridiculously reminded of that you’d been stationed to the most faraway land where even hearing news from the royal papers was but a privilege.

“Just be yourself, alright? And enjoy the party. It’s about time you met with girls your own age and made some friends.”

“I – Father, wait!”

A slender young woman slithered to your side out of nowhere, her golden brown eyes following the silhouettes of your parents. It wasn’t long before they completely disappeared. Left alone with the stunning woman that was – for some reason – dressed in a plain black curve hugging dress too modest for tonight’s appropriateness, you took three steps away in caution. “You must be from way up North,” she noted, her head to the tipped to the side. “I don’t think I’ve seen you here before.”

God, was she beautiful. Long, thick eyelashes and short hair chopped in messy yet elegant curves, you struggled to hold her gaze. “Oh, yes, I come from the Terratian Borders. My family is stationed there under His Majesty’s orders.”

She hummed to herself. “The Terratian Borders are mostly forests and fields, no? The last time my family and I visited there, I came across the loveliest dandelions I’ve ever laid eyes on. Shame they died on the way back,” offering her hand – again, bare and empty with decorations yet still littered with faint scars and cuts – she beamed at you. “I’m Mai, by the way. Mai Zen’in.”

Zen’in?

Hands cupping your mouth, you bowed deep until your back ached. “Lady Mai!” you shut your eyes closed, unable to live with the shame. Mai Zen’in; one of the iconic twin pair from the extended Zen’in royal family, both a fashion icon and a legend for being a rumoured female knight. To have her in your presence was an honour. “My apologies for not recognizing you any sooner, Lady Mai!”

“Stand up, I’m not a royal,” she sniggered, “We’re just relatives of the actual monarch, but don’t let the family name fool you. The Crown Prince barely even acknowledges us being of the same blood.”

Albeit hesitant, you followed her gestures of making you stand up. You straightened your back and cleared your throat, fighting the urge to go haywire the moment his name was brought into the conversation. Not only would you be seeing Prince Naoya again in real life for the first time in years, but you’d also made acquaintances with his distant niece. However, his name was spoken with malice.

Frowning, you faced Lady Mai in all seriousness. “Prince Naoya? Why so?” Lady Mai looked at you like you’d grown two heads.

“He’s an ass, that’s why.”

“I-I don’t think he is,” you defended, “The Prince has been nothing but kind to me.”

“I didn’t know he was capable of kindness,” she muttered more so under her breath, low enough you were unsure whether you were supposed to hear it in the first place. Lady Mai then shook her head to herself before stealing a flute from a waiter passing by. Chucking it your way, her face turned dark and grim. “Take it as free advice: stay as far away from his as possible. The Crown Prince is nothing but good news.”

“Is it because he has lots of lovers?” you inquired with a small voice, “Uhm – well – It was an assumption. With a title and handsomeness like that, it would make sense everyone would want to be the Crown Prince’s lover.”

Lady Mai’s lip curled upwards. “Prince Naoya won’t bother with lovers. He is too occupied for that.”

“So I’ve heard.”

“Heard from whom?”

“The Royal Declaration from His Majesty himself,” you said, “Was it not the purpose of this ball? To find worthy candidates to be the Crown Prince’s betrothed? His coronation is coming soon.”

“Right. I forgot today was technically a bridal market,” she scratched the edge of her brow, falling silent for a moment. Her eyes scanned the lively crowd for a brief moment – watching with you as everyone laughed and danced to their heart’s content – the grand final event of the routine personal dance with the Crown Prince himself slowly approaching to reality. “You are joining in the festivities, are you not? Later, when he arrives, he shall meet you.”

“I am obligated to as a noble bachelorette, though I doubt His Highness would even look my way. There are far richer noblewomen here and even daughters of duke that would be perfect as his wife. ”

“You may have a point for that,” she hummed to herself, unaware that her agreement to the Crown Prince not paying attention to you left a sting both in your ego and heart. Not that it lasted long, for Lady Mai was already tugged on the arm by another equally fiercely beautiful woman – her older twin, Maki Zen’in. Soon to be governon-general of the Kingdom.

Lady Mai smiled in apology. “I need to go now since I’m not a part of this event. But hey, if ever I come around to visit the Borders again, perhaps you could entertain me?”

“I would be honoured to, Lady Mai.”

“You are sweet and innocent,” it was her sister who spoke this time, glasses perched high on her nose that concealed the wariness of her gaze. “I hope the Crown Prince never gets to your routine.”

“I’m sorry?”

“It’s nothing; she was talking to herself. Maki does that a lot,” Lady Mai’s forced chuckles were barely heard from the music. “You enjoy the party now. Don’t drink too much lest you want to embarrass yourself in everyone’s eyes and be talk of the Kingdom. Prince Naoya would hate it if you took the attention away from him.”

“Oh, uhm...”

“It’s a joke, Lady Y/N. Relax.”

You bowed once more. “My apologies.”

“The dance is about to begin,” Maki tapped on your shoulder, making you look up right where her eyes zeroed in. And exactly in the middle of the grandiose hall, under the sparkling golden chandeliers where he made all the gold in the world look incomparable next to him, the Crown Prince stood in his fully glory. Blond hair with the ends stained of midnight gelled back to reveal his forehead, the Crown Prince’s beauty never failed to shine. Whether it be in the papers, in the tabloids, in the billboards that you passed on the way to the city, or from way back when you met him for the first time as a naive, innocent teen – Crown Prince Naoya came straight out of a magazine cover.

In the back of your head, you could hear either of the twins murmuring good luck. Maybe both of them had said it – you had no idea. All of your attention, all the sensibility and coherence of your state had been switched the next instant, as if your heart and soul was born for the sole purpose of being bewitched by your Crown Prince.

And as if feeling someone’s gaze on him, the Crown Prince’s eyes trailed over the crowd. Almost boredly, his sharp eyes bounced from one giggling woman to another, the ends of his lips smirking upwards for just the tiniest bit. It must’ve stroked his ego. Until his eyes connected with yours. The Crown Prince’s eyebrows knitted together. You had no idea how you looked in that moment, and quite frankly, you didn’t care. Because the Crown Prince was looking at you, and you were looking at him with hearts in your eyes along with your heart pulsing at the tip of your tongue.

“Let us begin,” his lips moved from the distance, “Play the music. I shall dance with my bride.”

The air shifted in a split second. Murmurs were thrown over the room, women and men alike turning pale. Even the orchestra was stunned from the Crown Prince’s entrance – and it hadn’t even been dramatic to his standards – yet the whole castle fell mum from just a few of his words. A few seconds later, the crowd recomposed itself, and the strings began to dance along with its bows.

You are pushed into the crowd. Nearly colliding into the arms of another, you quietly thank the masked man who was to be your first partner of the night.

All the men joining the dance floor dressed with the intention of making the Crown Prince shine. Prince Naoya stood out from the throng of white as per the colour code, his blood red uniform as both Prince with the  golden crest of the military leader pinned to his right breast. The other men meant to be filler partners until all the potential brides got to their designated three minutes with the Prince were all dressed in black, faces covered behind a plain black mask. None were allowed to talk. None were allowed to utter even a word, and so your partner pursed his lips in displeasure at your apology.

Whatever. You just had to wait a few more rounds before the song finished and transitioned into a new one; the song where you’d been informed would be your time alone with the Prince.

You’d been so lost in your head you barely breathed the entire dance. From partner to partner, you blanked. Your heart drummed so wildly in its cage it begged to come out, and strings of apologies were let out each time your masked partners grimaced for a brief second when their hands came in contact with your sweaty ones. Around you, all the lovely women smiled and danced graciously, mouths moving in unreadable conversations shared with the Crown Prince. Not once did you look at the six partners you’ve danced with. Not once did you worry about tripping on your own feet. Not once did you care that some of the masked men held you a little too roughly for your comfort. Your entire reason for existing in that moment was to witness the Crown Prince himself, mirroring his frown that got deeper and deeper with each woman retreating to the sea of people he’d rejected.

Not once did you even think about being one of them – the girls who’ve ducked their heads down as their parents comforted them over not being the chosen one, of bringing ‘dishonour’ to their families that the mighty Crown Prince had deemed them unworthy. Tears streamed down their faces until black ink followed afterwards, lips trembling from silent sobs.

Despite their broken prides – although there was that minority who simply sighed in relief after returning to their own families – no one would dare interrupt the Crown Prince’s dances.

All of these thoughts crossed your mind too late and at the exact time your masked partner pulled away from you, body half bent in a bow with his arm outstretched to the side. Following where he was gesturing at, your eyes met the Crown Prince’s tall and lean stature, a few blond fringes now fallen from his movements.

Even though a thin layer of sweat shone from his face, Prince Naoya remained ethereal.

And like a snake charmed by the musician’s seductive tone, your feet moved on its own. Fingers stretching until it met with the Crown Prince’s large and warm ones, you were now in front of him. With him. Holding him, touching him, meeting him eye for eye and realizing – gold. His eyes burned a deep shade of gold, elegantly rich and heartbreakingly stunning your heart ached.

Before you knew it, your hands began to tremble, feeling as if your body had been corded into a corset three sizes smaller. You could not breathe, and the Crown Prince took notice.

“You are stiff. Do I make you uncomfortable?” Good Saint. If only possible, you would’ve closed your eyes and basked in the deep warmth of his voice. It reverberated from deep within, breathed out with an air of natural authority and profound confidence it made your knees weak. As if sensing his effect on you (though for the wrong reasons, it seemed), Prince Naoya hummed to himself. “This routine shall last for a few minutes before I can let you go, I’m afraid.”

You instantly realized the implications of your silence. “N-not at all, Your Highness! I am honoured to be dancing with you.”

“There is no honour in a choreographed dance. Everyone will dance with me. It’s nothing special.”

Your heart fell. Prince Naoya not only sounded dejected, but detached as well. As if he found no pleasure or specialty in this event, at a time where he had every opportunity to meet his lover, and that this ball was merely a task to be checked off in his already long list of responsibilities. It wasn’t disappointment, per se, but rather melancholy that left a bitter taste in your mouth. Not because Prince Naoya held little to no regards for something you treasured, but because he sounded terribly alone. Like he was simply waiting for it to end out of discomfort.

“It’s special to me, Your Highness,” you blurted out faster than you could stop yourself. For a moment, you feared you may have offended him, but the Crown Prince only laughs.

And when he did – saint, when he laughed – his eyes crinkled into half moons, pearly whites flashing against the bright lights and his whole chest shook with amusement.

You’d never seen him smile this way before.

Prince Naoya’s laughter didn’t cease. Around you, your gut instincts told that people were now beginning to look; the Crown Prince’s deep rumbles of laughter sounded exquisitely like music as well, after all. “ Is it special to you because you are now dancing and within the Crown Prince’s proximity? As much as I presume how exhilarating it might be for those who mostly see me in the papers and in the tabloids, I assure you, dancing with your Prince is not an honour. Especially when you are all sent the invitations based on your status and not your worthy traits.”

“It’s special to me,” you mumbled, growing shy all of a sudden when the Crown Prince nodded at you to continue. “Because...because it reminds me of the first time we met.”

The Crown Prince hummed in amusement.

“We have met before?”

“Yes, Your Highness. I’m from the Terratian Borders – my father is a loyal servant of His Majesty. You visited the borders when you were eighteen and I was sixteen. Do you remember it, Your Highness? You stormed in my private library.”

Indeed, the young barely-out-of-his-teens Crown Prince barged into your home’s library years ago. You were not previously informed he and his parents would be visiting since they arrived wordlessly, so you were stuck in your chambers as usual, killing time if not for sleeping and tending to the animals. Perched on a ladder, you attempted to reach for a book on the upper shelf when your foot slipped beneath you. At the age of sixteen, you were dramatic enough to say your life flashed before your eyes. You would’ve screamed then had strong arms not appeared out of nowhere, the Crown Prince staring at you with wide, golden eyes as they were now, his breathy rasped as he asked, are you okay, my lady?

The mere recollection of that fateful memory had your cheeks warming in delight. “You were so charming and heroic back then. Even when I had no idea you were a royal, I would have still believed you to be princely,” you said rather absentmindedly, blinking once then twice at your words. “Of course, it’s understandable if you do not remember, Your Highness!”

“My apologies. I do not remember, though Terratia is a wonderful place. Such a shame I was not informed beforehand they had a lovely daughter.”

“Thank you, Your Highness,” you cheered back, cheeks and jaw beginning to ache from how wide you were smiling. But could anyone blame you? You felt absolutely silly that you were a breath away from passing out minutes ago, and now here you were, dancing with the Crown Prince and sharing memories with him like it was a daily occurrence. The words it’s true love when you feel at peace with them suddenly rang back at your head from that latest romance novel you read, and you turned away, hoping the Crown Prince would not read your thoughts to your face. However, Prince Naoya’s lips pursed into a thin line, all traces of humour now disappeared. “I’m sorry – should I not have laughed?”

“No, I don’t mind,” he mused with his jaw locked tight, “I just haven’t seen anyone react that way before.”

“Like what?”

“Like my words meant the entire universe to them. I may dare even say you look terribly in love, though I cannot blame you on that one, can I?”

Prince Naoya shook his head the minute the words left his mouth. Forcing himself to believe it couldn’t be real, perhaps, you truly did not know anymore. Your only plan for tonight was to see the Crown Prince and get to live out your dream of seeing him once more even for just a brief moment before you travelled back home while he married another, and yet – “Your Highness, I’m in love with you. I have always been since the day we met.”

You could no longer stop the words. The voice at the back of your head begged you to shut up and not cause a scene, that your time had passed up and people were staring, yet you remained in his arms no matter how much you wanted nothing more than for the ground to swallow you whole.

“Please do not misunderstand me, Your Highness. I did not come here to attempt to steal your heart and be your wife, though I will admit I have dreamt of meeting you again for so many moons. I...I only want to tell you this. That I love you and even though it was a brief moment, I think the love I’ve always read about felt real and possible for the first time in my life,” chuckling nervously, you gather to courage to face him, adoration shining for the Crown Prince stood shock still before you, however stunned he may be. “I love you, Your Highness. I love you. And to whoever lucky woman you choose to be your betrothed, I hope she takes care of you and showers you with all the affection you are deserving of. You would make a great King. So God help his Crown Prince, and may you lead us all into a better world.”

Prince Naoya did not budge a muscle. His eyes remained hard on yours, breath warm as his nostrils fumed. With each passing second that he did not speak, you grew restless and tugged your arm away from his hold with a disgraceful smile.

You’d truly crossed your line. The repercussions to be faced for this impoliteness would destroy your family’s honour. You had to leave. “Your Highness? The song has changed. It’s time to let go—”

The Crown Prince inched close enough until his hair tickled your cheeks, his deep voice sending shivers down your spine as he pulled you close, close enough that your lower bodies touched. Skin ablaze with heat, you dared not move an inch. “Do you mean it?” he demanded lowly, his fingers ghosting over your wrist to hold you in place. “Do you truly love me? Not for what I have, not for who I was born to be, but me as a person itself?”

Closing your eyes to shudder in a deep breath, you exhaled. “Of course, Your Highness. Even if you were not born as a Prince, I’m sure I would’ve still loved you in a different universe.”

“But I do not know you.”

“We don’t have to know each other, Your Highness, and we never will. Once you let me go, I’ll return to the shadows where I belong, and I will continue supporting you until the day of your coronation.”

“And if I refuse to let you go?” he clicked his tongue, “What will you do then?”

The Crown Prince’s spicy perfume must be an aphrodisiac or hypnotizer of sorts. Everything he did messed with your mind that it was too late – the music had stopped and people were no longer drinking or chatting. Everyone’s eyes were on you and the Crown Prince. You could only imagine how controversial this position must be; with his lips trailing dangerously close to that sensitive spot in your neck where you nearly moaned. You really needed to leave.

“P-people are looking, Your Highness. You do not want this affair with someone you won’t choose—”

“Who said I won’t choose you?” Finally, he pulled away. But Prince Naoya never once tore his gaze away from yours, nor did he allow you to look at anyone but him as he caresses your jaw so light and feathery you wondered if he was truly there.“Who said I haven’t laid my eyes on you the moment you walked in here? This ball is for naught because of you, Lady Y/N. I’ve already made my choice, and you helped me confirm it as soon as you danced with me.”

“Your Highness...”

“Look at me,” he ordered, your eyes flitting from his pinkish lips to his sharp nose and then to his fox-like gaze. Only this time, Prince Naoya was no longer harsh. “Don’t be scared.”

“But they’re looking.”

“You are with me, of course they’ll look,” he teased, “They wish to be you right now. But ignore them and dance one more time with me.”

It wasn’t like you had a choice, but did it matter? One nod from him was all it took before the orchestra fumbled back to their spots and a new song played, Ode of Moonlight Lovers, and the Crown Prince was guiding you back to where he had originally danced with you.

From the corners of your eyes, you caught a glimpse of your parents with their mouths gaped open; your father looking like he was on the verge of passing out. However, you felt nothing but joy, nothing but the adrenaline pumping through your veins as he danced and twirled you in his arms. When the music stopped and you were both panting for air with silly smiles on your face, it dawned on you that you were with the Prince. No, rather, it was only you and the Prince alone. Even in the sea of people whose faces began to blur, he prevailed crystal clear.

You could recognize him anywhere, find him everywhere.

Prince Naoya stepped impossibly closer until your chests touched, hearts beating as one. Cupping your jaw, he was near enough that he swallowed all your shaky breaths with a small, teasing smile like you both shared a secret the entire world could not know.

“Do I still make you nervous?”

Laughing, you nodded. “Yes, Your Highness. I feel like I’m going to explode.”

“It’s beloved now,” he corrected, face inching closer and closer to a point you could count the number of his lower lashes. “And what do lovers do to seal their union?”

“M-Marriage?”

“Close, but this is much better.”

If anyone were to tell you that you would have a love story ripped out straight from a fairytale, you would’ve laughed at their faces. You were no Cinderella, nor were you a goddess of beauty that could’ve possibly caught the Crown Prince’s eye. Yet, his soft lips were on yours, kissing you with as much passion you could only dream of that you cried.

Strong hands guiding the back of your waist, Prince Naoya dipped you lower to the ground – the grand of finish of his dance. He had chosen his bride.

The crowd cheered and rejoiced all around you, making you smile into the kiss. Fisting his collar to bring him closer to yours, your mouth burst into metaphorical fireworks as soon as his tongue mingled with yours for an experimental taste. He was bitter yet sweet; expensive wine resting on his tongue, yet a delicate vanilla sat heavily on his soft lips that molded with yours. It was a taste you could spend forever being addicted on. And you were crying, crying so much your chest ached and the Prince’s cheeks grew damp from yours. You’d dreamt of this for so long, too long now.

Prince Naoya slowly pulled you away, his thumb wiping the tears away from the pads of your cheeks with tenderness in his touch. However, the Prince was not satisfied. The crowd whooped as he leant down to kiss your forehead. “You are mine now, my princess.”

Looping his hands with yours, the Crown Prince led you out of the castle. The crowd parted naturally to make way for the new couple, and you were left staring at his broad back and the tuft of blond hair where you’d soon find out how soft it would be. Sending one last glance to your crying parents, you waved goodbye. You had no idea where the Crown Prince would take you but you were already bunching your dress up, heart completely filled with trust you did not question it. What mattered tonight and for the rest of your life was that it felt right. That it was him – your beloved Prince Naoya Zen’in and soon to be husband – that you’d follow through the moon and back.

[recurring-polynya]

hi there! AMAZING blog and great bleach write-ups. u know the characters so well it rivals - if not surpasses - kubo himself. im just curious what ur thoughts were on the 20th anniversary special one-shot chapter? (i apologize if u already talked about this but im just living vicariously through some of ur old bleach posts and haven't caught up to the new ones yet. sorry!)

Hi, thank you so much! I *wish* I knew as much about the characters as Kubo... the only thing I don't like about the return of Bleach is that he keeps dropping info and ruining my headcanons/stuff I said in my fanfic. 😂

Here is my very personal and biased take on the one-shot: I loved it. To be honest, it was basically catered to my very specific interests: lore + my faves. Renji had more panel time than any other character (really, truly, someone on Twitter counted) and his DILF energy was off the charts. It was lieutenant-centric overall, my favorite group of characters. We got an Akon shikai tease, I love both the new lieutenants, Mayuri shot laser eyes at Hisagi, Shinji made a hilarious face. There is now canonically tv, Line, and videophones in Soul Society. Yumichika is a wine aunt. Rukia is a shitlord. It's perfect.

Beyond that, even, I actually like the new story arc that's being teased (I am working under the assumption it is going to continue, it just doesn't make sense otherwise). My primary complaint about late Bleach is that there are too many characters. Kubo feels the need to have all his mains get a fight and then he needs to let everyone they fight have a backstory and he tries to interleave things and it takes so long to come back around to the small subset of characters any given reader actually cares about.

Don't get me wrong: I really, really like Ukitake, Unohana and Kyouraku as characters, but part of what I like is that they are a) old as balls, b) have seen and done some gnarly shit, and c) enjoy the relative peacetime where they get to mentor young people and be kind and pretend like they haven't committed a ton of murders for the Good of Soul Society. Yamamoto is a special case because I don't believe he's remotely sorry for anything he ever did (see: that filler arc where he falls asleep while Amagai is screaming about how Yamamoto threw his dad under the bus). In any case, we never really got to see Ukitake go ham, and we only got glimpses of Unohana, and I'm honestly kinda into the idea of them becoming Lords of Hell, because they probably do deserve it. Also, I want to see Bankai Rukia vs Hell Yamamoto, that shit is gonna slap.

I do wish we'd gotten a little bit more of Orihime, Chad and Uryuu (and no one needs to tell me that was the back of Uryuu's head at the ramen shop-- I don't actually think it was and also the back of someone's head is not very exciting). As I said, I have every expectation that this story will continue and I am hoping they are all involved. I can't imagine that Orihime *wouldn't* be, but it is a strong possibility that Chad and Uryuu will get shafted. I am saving my rage for them. (Note: What if Chad got to fight Shrieker again?? That would slap!!) I'm not really concerned about other people not appearing much-- it was already an extra-sized one-shot, and it had a lot of cast members, it was enough for me.

Two last thoughts!

1) I liked the amount that the kids appeared. For a while, I was really concerned that they were gonna pull a Boruto and make some next-gen series (possibly with minimal involvement from Kubo) and it was literally going to make me hate Bleach the way the new Star Wars movies made me hate Star Wars, a thing I once deeply loved. Instead, the kids were there and they were relevant to the plot, but the action was carried by the adult characters. This is cool in my opinion because it lets use see our faves in their role as parents and it builds the kids' characters organically instead of asking me, the reader to care about them solely on the basis that I liked their parents.

2) I mentioned Kubo ruining my headcanons earlier, and probably the #1 thing I didn't like about the one-shot is that I had always assumed that Soul Society basically knew how Hell worked, and that they had some sort of treaty or natural division of responsibility between them. Tbh, that's on me, my expectations were far too high. From day 1, shinigami have consistently known jack-shit about how anything works and just blunder through the larger greater spiritual world, making stuff up as they go along. I used to assume that this was a Rukia thing-- she only had one year of shinigami school, she's a Kuchiki so she can just say things and no one disagrees with her, and she's Rukia. But, no, Kyouraku's out here performing insane rituals and sending his pals to Hell and he's like, "oh, man, I think I read something about this on Yahoo! Answers once but then I got distracted." Complete and utter buffoonery. I can't wait to see more.

[hanijunk]

Alright boys, girls, and nonbinary folks of the world. It’s 5:36am (1/30 when I first started) as I decide to give up on my attempt to continue to focus on learning statistics, avoid studying for my two upcoming midterms, and put off my two actual essays for two different classes.

Instead we’re going into a dive about ✨ KazuFuuma ✨ . Is this me telling you you gotta ship it? No of course not, you’re entitled to your own ships! You don’t really gotta care about it as a ship. But I do want people to recognize it’s THERE canonically, and how disregarding it is extremely unfair to Kazuki as a character particularly. Also, I’m working on the assumption anyone clicking this at least knows the bare bones about what KazuFuuma (ex. You know they are a ship of Kazuki/Fuuma from Dolce, you know they are childhood friends, you know who Dolce is, you know about Honeyworks, etc.) I’ll be making references to specific things, but I won’t always go into heavy detail. Might just hope you know it or take my word for what it is, and go into analyzing it. Some I’ll put direct references to find, but some I’ll trust you can find it yourself. If you somehow read this MAMMOTH and want reference to a specific thing mentioned, hmu I can help you find it!!

Also I hate tumblr formatting sm if you legit wanna read this 7 page essay but hate tumblr format lmk I'll add it as a google doc link instead too. anYWHO

Before actually getting into the meat of things lemme preface some stuff.

Again it’s like almost 6am so this will be disorganized and very train of thought (and likely long due to the fact when I fly by the seat of my pants I’m known to get unnecessarily extensive). It’s definitely gonna be in large part why it’s important to recognize as a romantic relationship foundation and what about it shapes Kazuki’s character in particular. Maybe a bit of how it’s been built up and its general focus and implications. Dunno yet. We’ll see LMAOO

I say f*ck. Not a lot, just a handful of times. This ain’t something scholarly this is for my own enjoyment so if you don’t like that might not wanna read. And it’s not like spitefully I just curse a lot if you haven’t...read my tags before lol

Again this is through the lens of a Kazuki stan. Of COURSE I’m going to have some level of bias, but if anything that bias may help more than hurt because that means I become FIXATED and think a lot about Kazuki. Which plays into establishing just how important it is that Kazufuuma’s relationship is recognized, especially in a romantic light at this point. Lmfao. 

I’ll have a few more prefaces about the actual content below but to keep this from getting too long if you wanna read come below the cut owo

I have extremely limited knowledge of Japanese just taking a few classes in highschool (so like 3 yrs ago) and live in America. This means a lot of my knowledge is gathered through the english translations of the super duper incredible and lovely people in the Honeyworks fandom who provide translations (delaix and takanenene esp have provided so much for me being able to understand Dolce) and my own limited Japanese paired with Google Translate for things that remain untranslated.

This only will be drawing on information I have come in contact with and have access to and making assumptions based on that, most (if not all) of which is in the public domain. So things like the Dolce Manga Volumes released via Animate, exclusive 4komas, and Light Novels are out of my area for the most part (apart from again snippets of translations thanks to this fandom’s godlike and generous translators).

I will not be drawing on anything from the first Dolce album with the exception of Nade Nade. From a meta standpoint, I consider those songs as songs made as performance media as opposed to character explorations. Nade Nade is the exception because (1) it was released a whole year before the album and (2) you can tell it’s explicitly an exploration of Fuuma and Kazuki’s interpersonal relationship even if it’s in a slightly more performance based context than the songs that came out with the Dolce LNs. Easiest parallel I can make to show this is if you held Non-Fantasy, Yume Fanfare, and Samishigariya up against each other, you could tell the difference in intended audience and intended purpose the same way the Dolce 1st album, Nade Nade, and the songs of the LNs do respectively. Even if there is some basis to ground Kazufuuma, for the purposes of this essay I’ll be acting under the assumption the 1st album falls under the Non-Fantasy equivalent category.

THAT WAS A LOT OF PREFACING CONSIDERING LIKE 2 PPL WILL PROBABLY READ IT I just have a tendency to anytime I do anything analytical lay down ground acknowledgements for myself to work on just...cuz it makes me feel less guilty for any accidental misinformation even if I’m writing towards my future self to read lolll IM SORRY WITHOUT FURTHER TO DO HERE’S THE BRAIN DUMP

First let’s go ahead and establish why it needs to be recognized as an important relationship. Again, I’m a Kazuki stan. He’s my favorite character not only of Dolce but also of the entire Honeyworks series, and as much as I love him for reasons outside the ship, whether you like it or not Kazufuuma is an essential aspect of his character and narrative. Of course there’s the fact that him and Fuuma are childhood friends, so that’s going to in part define their characters and interactions with each other and those around them. They’re both going to be relevant to one another and important to one another’s stories to an even greater extent than the rest of the members of Dolce. But on Kazuki’s side at least, it’s an EXTREME amount. A running plotpoint in Dolce Diary is the sheer amount of dedication Kazuki has to Fuuma and how much his thoughts and decisions are influenced by Fuuma, whether it be how he feels happiest spending time with Fuuma, how he decided to get his piercing to represent he wanted to protect Fuuma, how he doesn’t want to dislike food so he can eat what Fuuma dislikes, etc. Not to mention running jokes about his borderline overprotectiveness and downright possessiveness of Fuuma, how proud he is when Fuuma gets praised, or that one 4koma that literally explicitly states he can read Fuuma’s mind when he thinks motherfucking ‘dirty thoughts’ about his childhood friend (Fuuma). I still don’t know what the fuck to make of that last bit. Genuinely. Or the fact it’s a fucking running joke. As in it’s not a one off. It’s been brought up multiple times. Kazuki what the fuck. 

That’s not to say that he doesn’t have character outside of Fuuma or he doesn’t interact with people other than Fuuma. He’s great friends with Sara, Girisha, and Kippei and is shown time and time again to have fun interactions with all of them, generally acting as the best support friend for every member of the group, not Fuuma alone. For instance how he helps Kippei with his self confidence issues or stays over at Sara’s to protect him from a cockroach (which he fails at lol). Nor is that to say all his interactions involving Fuuma focus solely on his devotion to Fuuma, especially in instances where the manga focuses on Dolce as a group dynamic (though even in that setting there are times where jokes about his devotion are thrown in). He’s kind, he’s stupid, he’s friendly, he’s an amazing character in his own right, and I love him for all those reasons. But that doesn’t change the fact a major part of his character and his character interactions are rooted in Fuuma, and arguably some of his most interesting, eccentric, and notable behaviors and traits revolve around Fuuma (again the mind reading for example).

Hell let’s take it one step further. If you look at the character bios of the Dolce members, you get everyone’s motives for being an idol and interests. Of them, Kazuki is the only one to have another character mentioned directly, not to mention that supporting Fuuma is explicitly stated to be his primary motive as to why he became an idol. Not even Fuuma’s sister is mentioned, though two arguments can be made for this. The first would be that Fuuma’s backstory about wanting to fulfill his dream for himself and his sister was decided later to explain Fuuma’s choice to crossdress though it can be argued it was intentionally done to leave it as a reveal at a later date, to which I would argue I don’t think this backstory was a choice in post. While Fuuma’s dedicated Dolce Diary extra exploring that backstory was released a little less than a year after Dolce was revealed, the preview to set up Fuuma’s backstory was actually the first thing released after the character bios on the Dolce Official Twitter page if you exclude a drawing of Dolce from Yamako. The second argument could be that information about his sister was intentionally withheld to set up the reveal when Fuuma’s extra released to explore it. However, going by that logic (which I do agree with), that would also mean that Fuuma’s inclusion and importance in Kazuki’s character bio also set up his dedicated extra, which I don’t think would be incorrect to assume considering what his actual extra turned out being.

Which brings me to the thing that makes it inexplicable to write off the romantic implications behind Kazufuuma: Kazuki’s dedicated Dolce Diary extra, Suki. I shipped Kazufuuma before even knowing of Suki, sure. But the fact that Suki even exists is a shock to me and drove into me the fact that Kazufuuma wasn’t just my own projection. Again, it’s not a surprise that Fuuma shapes Kazuki’s life. They’re childhood friends, of course they’re going to be important to each other. But this extra explicitly brought Kazuki’s feelings towards Fuuma under a direct spotlight. At first I was thinking oh, this extra was just to acknowledge the fact that Kazuki and Fuuma’s relationship can have romantic implications, but the end of it the conclusion that we got was that it didn’t matter what type of “like” he felt for Fuuma. Originally, I thought it wasn’t anything more than saying there are all types of like, and it doesn’t always need to be explicitly defined, but I appreciated the fact they were aware that they were writing Kazuki in a way that conveyed romantic implications. 

Then I thought about it because, again, I love Kazuki of course I’m going to think about his character extra, and realized...that’s not how these character extras have worked. There are only three character extras out as far as I know and have read: Fuuma, Kippei, and Kazuki. If we look at Fuuma and Kippei’s, each extra had a conclusion, sure, but they didn’t have a resolution. Rather, they were simply setting up explicitly what each character’s primary character arc and conflict were. Fuuma’s extra brought attention to the fact that he’s particularly a crossdressing idol by exploring the motives behind it. His choice to be a crossdressing idol is constantly under fire both by himself and the world around him. He’s not immune to those who consider his crossdressing strange, and a part of his story is both finding people who accept his decision to crossdress and to succeed for himself as a crossdressing idol. It’s an essential part of how we understand and define him as a character and it’s a central part of how he interacts with the world around him. For Kippei, it lays the severity of his insecurity under the spotlight and his journey and motives for improving himself. Again, this isn’t something isolated and resolved in the extra; his extreme insecurity and negativity is constantly affecting how he interacts with practically everyone from his fellow Dolce members to his fans despite the fact in all honesty? He’s fucking insanely talented in his own right, his own brother mentioning how smart he is and how he has amazing reflexes. For Kippei, his negativity is an essential part of how we understand and define him and central to how he interacts with the world as much as Fuuma’s decision to crossdress is to him.

Which brings us back to Kazuki, of course. In his dedicated extra, in the chapter that’s supposed to explore and establish and bring attention to an essential part of his character, the aspect of himself under investigation is how he feels about Fuuma. It’s not just how he behaves around Fuuma, it’s explicitly an exploration of his feelings, on top of the fact it’s explicitly an exploration about whether or not he likes Fuuma r o m a n t i c a l l y. Literally the conflict is spurred on by someone outright asking “Do you like him?” and having to clarify “I mean romantically.” What they decided to focus on for Kazuki’s character and emphasize and establish is that Kazuki’s like towards Fuuma toes the line between friendship and romance. His ambiguous feelings towards Fuuma (if we leave them inconclusive as Suki did) are just like Fuuma’s crossdressing and Kippei’s insecurity in the sense the weight of whatever those feelings may be are seen in how he interacts with the world around him and influences his behaviors. It would be another story if they introduced the potential and shut it down all within the extra, because then his central conflict would to me be less directly open to romantic potential and more simply about how his arc was meant to explore the dynamic of the behavior of an extremely dedicated best friend. The fact that he may be romantically attracted to Fuuma or may be only platonically dedicated to Fuuma is instead something that looms over Kazuki in the same way Fuuma’s decision to crossdress constantly looms over him. It’s what Dolce wanted to point to and say this is Kazuki’s central character conflict and central arc: exploring what type of feelings he has towards Fuuma. 

Sure, it can be argued that there’s only three Dolce Diary character extras, there’s not enough to be sure about that being the purpose of the extras unless we get the other two’s extras. First, at this point I honestly don’t know if or when they’re going to release an extra revolving around Sara and Girisha just because not only has it been over a year and a half since the latest Dolce Diary Character Extra (Kazuki’s) was released despite the gap between the first and latest Dolce Diary Character Extra (Fuuma’s and Kazuki’s) were within a year of release but also because the Dolce 4komas and comics they’ve been posting to Twitter have decreased (last one being over half a year ago) potentially due to them deciding to focus on releasing Dolce manga content through the purchasable volumes instead. (This is not particularly related to the Kazufuuma argument, just wanted to put out there my two cents on what Sara and Girisha’s extra/focal arc would be. Based on a large part of the Dolce Diary in conjuncture with Can’t an Idol Fall in Love, I’d argue Sara’s would be his journey to regain his passion for performing, and if it’s not that I’d say it’d be coming out of his self-imposed isolation and opening up to people again. As for Girisha, I have less of a concrete idea but I’m assuming it’d be something pertaining to how people often misconceive him whether it be in tandem with his determination, his optimism and sociability, or his stupidity/ability to ignore those misconceptions and work past them. But Girisha is treated like the comedic relief 90% of the time so I’m not entirely sure, but his primary conflict is definitely rooted in misconceptions of him being his roadblock imo. #MoreGirishaContentPlz) That being said, I personally feel like the three are already enough evidence, especially considering it would be honestly even more cruel for Kazuki’s character-centric extra to be focusing on something that wasn’t essential to his character and character arc, anyway. And though it’s not explicitly stated that these chapters are extras exploring a central character, you can kind of tell based on how they are (to my knowledge) the only Dolce Diary updates with cover/title cards each which include their focal character front and center. So working off that fact, the Kazuki-centric chapter established that a pillar to his narrative was his feelings towards Fuuma and that those feelings are still open to romantic potential. 

But if you follow me, this is why up until Can’t an Idol Fall in Love With Another Idol’s release, I was terrified of them writing that off. I would have been ok if it was just an arc that was given attention then continued to actively work in the background, as all the character arcs have been over all of Dolce’s content. The fact that they might be giving Fuuma a love interest and giving Fuuma a love arc while Kazuki’s feelings were still up in the air and were still the primary highlighted narrative for him would have been fucking scuffed. To me, it would be like… why would they make him so Fuuma-centric to the point that even his dedicated chapter was not just focused on Fuuma but focused on the ambiguity and potential of him having romantic feelings for Fuuma, yet reduce him to being Fuuma's designated right-hand man. Don’t get me wrong, friendships are just as important as romantic relationships. But again, rather than conclude Kazuki’s answer in Suki to be that his feelings were of friendship, they left it open ended and allow audience members to be actively aware that Kazuki’s feelings towards Fuuma still had potential to be romantically coded. It would just be so weird to quickly close off that narrative by giving Fuuma a love interest as opposed to letting Kazuki conclude it himself. It would be fucking beyond frustrating for me, at least Eventually, I kept trying to drive my hopes that they would explore Kazuki’s narrative at all down to the ground because it was a Fuuma-centric novel; maybe if anything they’d explore those feelings in his own novel after the fact. But then they kept having little drops here and there of Kazuki being even the slightest bit relevant and I’d go back to questioning “Are??? They??? Is this on purpose??? Do they know what they’re doing or are they just doing this because Kazuki’s just so important to Fuuma as his best friend that he’s there as his right-hand I genuinely can’t tell???” And um. Welp.

Safe to say Can’t An Idol Fall in Love sold me on the fact that they know what they’re doing LOL. And to anyone who thinks that Kazuki’s feelings can still be read as ambiguous in CAIFILWAI as opposed to explicitly romantic - whether it be due to a fear they may pull the “I like him as a friend” card or due to the disbelief that they have an explicit mlm main character in the Honeyworks series - I’d like to cover any bases that may make you think this way. If you think it’s just Kazuki acting like a protective friend, why do you think he calls Yui a rival? If you’ve only seen the MV and think it’s ambiguous or can be taken as the "likfe" for friend, then does that mean you think Yui’s feelings toward Fuuma are also ambiguous or as a friend? With the way Yui responds, she is trying to rival Kazuki’s feelings towards Fuuma. She and Kazuki recognize whatever feeling it is that they hold towards Fuuma, both of their feelings are the same type. I don’t think most people would argue that Yui’s confession about Fuuma was one of pure respect and friendship. Plus, if anything I’d argue of the three characters in the MV, Fuuma is the one whose feelings are left the most ambiguous despite him being the central character. It’s heavily implied that he may be forming feelings for Yui, but nowhere is it established either in the song or in the MV, especially if you compare it to Kazuki and Yui’s declarations or if you compare it to Sara’s feelings for Uru in Can’t An Idol Fall in Love. Fuuma’s romantic narrative here is trying to figure out how he feels for Yui, while for Kazuki and Yui they’ve established a rivalry because they both have mutually established they like Fuuma romantically.

If the MV isn’t enough for you and Suki isn’t enough for you for...some reason…??? You can check out the snippets of the light novel which the wonderful takanenene translated: one which revisits the conflict set up in Suki and one that covers the confession scene in the MV in more detail. If the fact that the conflict set up in Suki (aka the lurking feeling of not knowing if all he felt for Fuuma was only platonic or more than platonic) was specifically reestablished in the LN for anyone who didn’t keep up with Dolce Diary didn’t tip you off that it was something important, his behavior in the confession scene as depicted by the LN definitely should have. He’s possessive about his spot by Fuuma’s side. He doesn’t want that spot to be taken by anyone else. Even if he knows that they can help Fuuma, he wants it to be him. And this line: “Kazuki then trails off his words, quietly saying ‘That’s why…’ and then gave Yui a slightly painful smile, his cheeks turning red,” before he declares Yui a rival and states he likes Fuuma. If you can tell me you read that line and are still on the fence about Kazuki’s “like” towards Fuuma being romantic, please message me and I will see how I can get through to you. Like it wasn’t even just a romantically coded confession. It’s just a romantic confession. That “like” is romantic. And I’m so proud that he’s not only come to understand for himself how he feels, but that he’s confident enough to ask the person he sees as a romantic rival to speak in private and not only clarify her feelings for Fuuma but before she can even do that firmly establishes that he loves Fuuma with conviction. Kazuki my boy I’m so proud of you. *sniffs*

And that’s it for establishing Kazufuuma as at least canonically one-sidedly canon and why there’s not only no reason to deny it but also why denying it is a fucking disrespectful move towards Kazuki. He’s a character, sure, but that doesn’t change the fact you shouldn’t write off his struggle to come to be convicted enough to say it out loud. This has been something weighing on him at least a year, if not more (all I know is it started when both he and Fuuma were in some year in middle school). And as a character in a piece of media, I’ve been saying this the entire time, but brushing it off as non-romantic is literally chucking a fucking pillar of his character’s story into the gutter. And to those who may be saying Kazuki’s confession came out of nowhere and is pandering reread this entire fucking essay again I dare you to do it and tell me to my face it’s pandering. Again. Writing off the buildup as pandering is disrespectful to him, disrespectful to his character and narrative, and disrespectful to the wonderful people who have been creating Dolce so diligently and have crafted this narrative for us. Saying his “supposed feelings” and “ambiguous confession” is pandering is like saying Fuuma’s crossdressing is pandering which. If you say either of those I will find you and I will shank you in the fucking gut. Even if you’re not fully into Dolce, recognize these characters are actually very well developed and executed amazingly, as per every Honeyworks character that has come to exist. I don’t blame you if you weren’t aware of the weight of Kazufuuma, but now that you read this I hope you are. That’s mainly what I needed to get out there, but as follows will be me more exploring how Kazufuuma has been built up and generally waving my hand off at where it may be going. If you want you can dip, thanks for reading up to here because I know I repeated a lot because it’s just. So important to drill into your head and has been something I’ve been hung up about constantly. LOL

As for where exactly they’re taking it from this point on, I honestly don’t know. In all honesty, I didn’t even expect them to take it the direction they did. But honestly, I think the direction they went with it is really interesting and better than I could have imagined, in my opinion at least. Honeyworks never ceases to amaze me with their storytelling and narrative choices, and I don’t think there’s any that stand out to me as being severely questionable that they haven’t reapproached at some point down the line. And, again, I think they’re treating this with a lot of care and deserved respect. So I’m just gonna be gushing about how smart they set it up and how smart they’ve been executing it and maybe my own hopes on the direction it could go.

Whether they make Kazufuuma reciprocated I have no real clue or bearings, but to me my gut reaction is they will. Of course, I’m biased, but again if you trace things all the way back to 2018 and step through Dolce’s content and growth from there, I’d say even if they didn’t know if they could execute it like this and see it to fruition, I’d argue that Kazufuuma has been at least heavily implied since the beginning as a relationship they wanted to explore from both sides of the relationship. Obviously I brought up Kazuki’s character bio already, but if you look at the *goes to count* 5th Dolce Diary update already has a joke jabbing at the fact that Kazuki is technically Fuuma’s type (and the way Kippei and Kazuki excitedly react is so cute). The fifth update. And as stated before there are tons of Kazufuuma moments in Dolce Diary, whether it’s played for comedic effect or played straight (and this is post Suki but oh my god I’ve said it before I’ll say it again get yourself someone who looks at you the way Kazuki looks at Fuuma oh my jesus). But song-wise, I mentioned the one Dolce album song I would bring up is Nade Nade and this is where it comes! 

Not only is Nade Nade specifically focused on Kazuki and Fuuma’s relationship as opposed to the whole of Dolce despite being the first song, it included the setup/preview of the Fuuma-centric extra prior to the full release of the Fuuma-centric extra itself and was released early as fuck. Literally between the 6th and 7th update to Dolce Diary. Sure, it could be to isolate them as a duo for marketing purposes (they’re very often the two promoted idols together if the whole of the group aren’t included), but the way it’s established as a perspective song as opposed to a general idol duet is what fascinates me. Anyone who didn’t know about Dolce prior and only followed Honeyworks for music would be first introduced to these characters through this song alone, and maybe this is where my Kazufuuma bias comes from but I was one of those people LOL. I thought it was just a cute one-off relationship that they had set up for the purpose of a song and that it was an implied friends-to-lovers story that would never get a conclusion. Also I mistakenly thought Fuuma was a girl oop-. In the full context of Dolce, this song in part helped establish Fuuma and Kazuki more solidly as a unique duo out of all of Dolce, but it also specifically explored through Fuuma’s eyes just how much Fuuma recognizes and appreciates the unwavering support Kazuki gives him to follow his dreams as he wishes. For Fuuma, he loves Kazuki too, though whether it holds any romantic potential in the same way Kazuki loves him has never been explored to nearly the same extent. But Fuuma appreciates how Kazuki’s remained by his side and does everything he can to support him, so Nade Nade explores how his way of expressing his love and thankfulness to Kazuki is by never saying that he needs Kazuki by his side. He’s glad Kazuki’s always been there for him, and his reciprocation takes on the form of being ready to unwaveringly support Kazuki and not ask for more than he already has, even if it meant Kazuki would be leaving his side, despite the fact that he really does wish they could remain together forever just as Kazuki does. The one point he lets himself say something vaguely close to always wanting to stay together, he gets a surprised expression out of Kazuki and says an ambiguous “suki dayo.” Of course, this it much less romantically coded than what we get from Kazuki in Suki and CAIFILWAI, but there is an interesting emphasis put on it nonetheless. Keep in mind, this is all established through the song, which released long before not only Fuuma’s character-centric extra released but also Kazuki’s character-centric extra released, so there is at least a substantial setup for Fuuma’s feelings towards Kazuki’s being strong as well and possibly grow to be reciprocated one day.

I think for me the most fascinating part about Nade Nade is how they tied it back around to Can’t An Idol Fall In Love with Another Idol. Again, without remembering Nade Nade, I still thought CAIFILWAI was brilliantly explored and executed, even if some people would have preferred no love triangle. But honestly, revisiting Nade Nade makes me trust even more the direction they’re taking with this. Whether or not they make Kazufuuma canon mutually (which. Even if they for some inexplicable reason didn’t I’m going down with this ship.), I’m sure they’re putting a lot of thought into the story, because the last bit of Nade Nade directly parallels the misunderstanding that arose from Fuuma mishearing the Kazuki and Yui. Fuuma is resolved to support Kazuki in any area he’s given the chance, and that explicitly includes if Kazuki had some girl he liked, which is what he assumes is going on. The fact that they tied this back around in the form of a misunderstanding was really really smart and Honeyworks is always so good at parallels and references back to their older songs, but for some reason I didn’t expect this. I don’t know how to say why, but the fact that the song that started it all, kicked off both Dolce and Kazufuuma, was directly referenced both visually in the MV with a cameo at the start and narratively despite the central dynamic being predominantly explored in this story in particular was that of Fuuma and another potential love interest and involves said potential love interest for some reason makes me think that (sorry Yui) this is all planned out for Kazufuuma in the grand scheme of things. That being said, I don’t know if me thinking it was planned all along is just me with shipper goggles, but the idea it’s come full circle nearly 3 years later is not shipper goggles and a very very well done parallel in my opinion, whether this trajectory was their plan for Kazufuuma from the beginning or not. Just wanted to gush about that some more. 

There’s more I could go into especially if I went into specific details about interactions or specific implications established in Honeyworks' Dolce content about different characters that would be fascinating to explore in relation to and under the lens of Kazufuuma, but I think this is uh...plenty long enough. Plus, I doubt you'll stop seeing Kazufuuma posts from me so those ideas will probably just be miniposts or somethin.

Back to the overarching point of this segment, idk what they’ll do with this story in the end, but do I think Kazufuuma will canon? I’m used to looking at ships that aren’t explicitly apparent with a sliver of skepticism, but all things considered (as I stated before) yeah. I don’t see reason why they wouldn’t now that they’ve explicitly identified there is a romantic dimension to it ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Like to me, the setup isn’t something that would be written off as unrequited? And this doesn’t have to play into why I don’t think it will canon, my personal opinion on the Fuuyui relationship (again albeit through the lens of a hard Kazufuuma shipper lmao) has it’s own merits and is really cute, I find it cute in the way I found Koyuhina cute. I personally never really shipped Koyuhina, and especially since they slipped Kotarou into Ima Suki Ni Naru I was more curious about who this kid was and how he played into things I didn’t really see Koyuhina as something that would come to fruition. Similarly, there’s more importance in the overall sense on Kazuki than there is Yui (considering he’s one of the 5 original and focal members of this generation of idols, this would be natural), as well as the fact there’s just way more foundation and exploration in Fuuma and Kazuki’s relationship than there is Fuuma and Yui. As for how much of a balance there is inside the LN itself, the fact that they seem to have spent a substantial amount relaying the foundation of Fuuma and Kazuki’s relationship and re-exploring it (at least in Kazuki’s perspective) at all on top of how much content there is covering their relationship prior to the LN ever since Dolce’s origin just feels like that relationship holds more weight. Pretty much Kazufuuma feels more established as a priority in general. The way I personally hope Fuuyui plays out is whether they wind up holding mutual feelings or not or whether Fuuma doesn’t feel that way towards Yui is they get a relationship akin to Kotarou and Arisa. Albeit, Kotarou and Arisa never viewed each other in a romantic light, but they had mutual respect and solidarity. That’s the type of friendship I hope comes out of Fuyui. And considering there hasn’t been a break-up in any Honeyworks’ canon relationships (nor do I expect there to be… they’re all perfect for each other LMAO) it would actually be interesting if Fuuyui get together but don’t endgame and Kazufuuma is established as the inseparable endgame after some realization or another, though I don’t expect them to go that route nor do I know if that’d be the best way to go about it anyway. Also final point, Honeyworks seems to have a thing for childhood friends trope anyway soooooo owo All in all, don’t know where they’re taking it, just excited to see where it goes. 

TL;DR of this *counts* 7 page essay, stan Kazufuuma. Not gonna proof this. Maybe I’ll edit and repost but yall are getting a confusing clusterfuck of ramblings over 2-3 hr periods of me writing across 3 different days at around 5am each day. Uh. If you got this far like and subscribe and-- jk plz reply to this mammoth anywhere you see fit or tell me if you have stuffs to add or counter or whatnot I like hearing people talk about Kazufuuma ;w; I am Kazuki and Kazufuuma brainrot can you tell after reading this? No? Lemme just remind you I’m K--

[wsgeon]

hey everyone! ummm this is peyton (also the mun of lee hyeon) taking a second shot at a second character — i have a lot of muse for this one, so i swear he’ll be around for a while… 🥵 this is ryu geon, yes his name rhymes with hyeon’s & no i do not care ♥️ he’s the lead guitarist/vocalist of meta and also the son of a former nobody rockstar, but i’ll get into all that below! like this post if you’d like for me to come into your ims to plot, click the read more for more info on geon, and/or click here to be taken to his pages: CAREER, DOSSIER, PINTEREST.

HISTORY.

born in autumn ‘97 to a “budding rockstar” (translation: “no yeah i swear our band’s really starting to take off, we sold twenty-three tickets to our last show!”) & a woman with commitment issues ♥️ geon’s dad always told him that his mom left because she had some dire matters that needed to be taken care of and SWORE that she cried the last time she held her dear baby boy, but all of his dad’s bandmates say that she was just some groupie and had to be persuaded into carrying her child to term… who can say for sure?

naturally, there are no pictures of this mystery woman. there was one (1) of her holding infant geon, but then he found out that that was actually a sound tech who worked for his dad’s band… and he just never corrected geon’s assumptions LOLLLL

anyway! he was always really close to his dad, considering they were a two-person family. he has a set of grandparents, an aunt and a couple cousins but they were never involved with geon’s life because his dad is the #blacksheep of the family. geon and his dad against the world, am i right?

uhhh geon was also kind of a black sheep growing up, but he didn’t really notice? he was a happy kid, very energetic and enthusiastic. a lot of adults in the area looked down on him & his dad, but he was SOOOO blind to it because his dad’s a god in his eyes and HE’S always been nice to everyone, so why would they not like him??? because his clothes smelled a little like dad’s cigarette smoke??? big deal

wasn’t troublesome (beyond talking too much), but a lot of people still expected bad things from him :/ “his father’s a dirtbag, i’ll be surprised if that boy doesn’t end up in jail by 20”, “he won’t amount to anything without a proper role model in his life”, “his dad is teaching him how to slack off”, “he won’t contribute anything to society”, etc. he kindaaa picked up on this as he got older but pretended not to because it was more rewarding to play dumb and keep being a good kid(tm) to prove them wrong

was basically a mini version of his dad. same style, similar features, birthmarks in the same places, same “live today, die tomorrow” approach in life, same affinity for singing & playing rock music. ummm he loved his dad a lot. a lot. a lot. wanted to make him proud SO BAD, started his first band when he was 15 and they sucked so bad but his dad was their biggest fan… you know how it is. a lot of people misunderstood him, but he was a very good guy and such a great parent

TW DEATH unfortunately he passed away just shy of geon’s 18th birthday and your boy still hasn’t forgiven the world for taking his dad when he was in the middle of his angsty teen phase — had he known that their time together was dwindling, he would’ve been so so so much better to him END TW

his dad’s band actually rocketed into the charts after he passed & suddenly they were getting loads of publicity, lots of “what a shame that he went under-appreciated” which pissed geon off SOOOO bad because why couldn’t they have had that energy when he was still alive? he’s still mad about it five/six years later

this is getting kinda long, so uhhh tl;dr, he ended up staying with the drummer of his dad’s band until he was old enough to live alone/READY to live alone, but he changed quite a bit. was really going through it, quit his band, stopped putting effort into school. barely graduated. went from being a social butterfly spending every weekend at a gig or with friends to spending all of his time on a pc or in front of a tv, playing console games. the internet comforted him when nobody else would/could and then he met the future members of meta <33333333 #newbeginnings

present day geon is still struggling, has to go to counseling bi-weekly but he’s coming back out of his shell! he wants to fall in love with life again, just wants to tread carefully... outgoing & will talk to absolutely anyone, but he still spends most of his time alone. hard to reach by text, so if you wanna talk to him, you better call/facetime LMAO. talks a mile a minute, especially if you get him going abt something he really likes. laughs a lot, smiles a lot, more habitual than actual signs of happiness but yk. ummm he has a really loud voice, mostly controlled nowadays but he still gets carried away sometimes. an absolute menace during long drives/flights, sorry meta.

funny but only when he’s in large groups. feeds off of other peoples’ energy, really good at reading a room and breaking the ice/making everyone comfortable, but if you meet him 1-on-1, none of his jokes land quite the same.

i envision him as being the kind of guy who carries himself in such a way that you’d assume he’s really popular/out of reach/maybe even full of himself, but he’s... not like that... at all... in fact, he’s kinda irritating when you get to know him. the personification of a flood followed by a drought and vice versa, always either too much or not enough. gets used/ghosted/dropped/dumped/whatever a lot because he’s soooo fun in the moment (if he isn’t in his feelings), but draining long-term.

really emotionally intelligent, in touch with his feelings in a way that a lot of people never thought he would be (probably thanks to counseling tbh). he’s very very rarely the type of person who will make you wonder what your place in his life is — he’s communicative, kind, honest. ummm he thinks that intimacy between friends needs to be more common, so he’s really affectionate with the people in his life. type of guy to tell you he loves you every chance he gets (calling you when he’s drunk, sounding like a clingy ex type beat) & greet you/depart with a hug. losing his dad kinda fucked him up in the way that he won’t leave/hang up until his friends say “i love you” back, gets kinda (re: very) upset if he’s denied that and/or a hug.

TRIVIA.

has been playing the guitar “longer than he’s been walking” (not really, but he swears it’s true).

uhhh he really likes nail art, but he’s kinda hesitant in what he tries? mainly sticks to black polish (or other plain colors), but sometimes he’ll get little designs added in as well. mainly does it himself because he still doesn’t feel comfortable in salons... if his work looks bad, leave him alone <3 he’s trying

inspired by people like kurt cobain, nicky wire, yungblud, billie joe armstrong & damiano david in the fact that he’s not against wearing dresses or skirts on stage. doesn’t do it ALL the time, but often enough that it doesn’t go unnoticed. some people say that he does it for attention because he doesn’t dress like that elsewhere and tbh they’re probably kinda right

interested in history (only SOME... dinosaurs, ancient civilizations, specialized areas like the history of circuses/clowns/skateboarding/punk, stuff like that yk), stand-up comedy & documentaries. could spend a whole day watching documentaries and would say he had fun, has a lot of useless knowledge that nobody gives a fuck about and is kinda dumb when it comes to things that matter

when it comes to music, he prefers playing really fast and heavy rock or punk over anything else, but he actually listens to a lot more soft indie on his own time... he’s too tense these days to be listening to anything else RIPPP

the vibe: homemade tie-dye, ripped slipknot t-shirts, frosted tips, neon crocs with alien & peace-sign charms, chipped black nail polish, calloused hands, cheesy pick-up lines used NOT to land a date but to pull a smile, driving until he’s lost, stupid socks paired with pressed suits, dramatic poetry in an iphone note, etc. 

PLOT IDEAS.

people he met through online support groups about coping with grief

uhhh an on & off relationship that’s been going for who-knows-how-long. the reason for this is up for discussion, but i imagine that he hasn’t given up yet because the constant highs and lows are a good source of inspo 🤪 artists must suffer for their art!

opposite side of the coin — someone he’s interested in, but he’s NOT disloyal so it’s a pattern of persistent courting when he’s single vs intense friend-zoning when he’s not and they’re getting tired of trying to figure out what he wants from them

someone else who likes nail art & can convince him that NOBODY cares if he goes to a salon

someone (probably female but doesn’t really matter tbh) who feels like his feminism is entirely performative… maybe they attack him directly for it or maybe they just REALLY don’t like him and they’re super vague about it idk. either way, please tell him that activism is much more than recommending one female artist a year and saying “clothes have no gender 🤪” so he can be praised for the bare minimum (his heart is in the right place but his skull is empty)

someone super introverted who comes out of their shell with geon! uhhh maybe they think that he’s the one doing them a favor, but in reality spending time with them has been doing wonders for his mental health

other people who like to skate. let’s congregate at the local skatepark and scare the middle schoolers away

someone who inspires him musically, for whatever reason. lots of late nights in studios, idly strumming his guitar and writing lyrics that definitely aren’t about how their eyes look in these dim lights… umm maybe he thinks he has a crush on them but really doesn’t and ends up hurting them eventually, maybe he really DOES have a crush but will (probably) never do anything abt it or maybe it’s entirely platonic and he just admires them a ridiculous amount

someone who likes to make music as a hobby, prob won’t publish/release any of it but it’s fun to imagine. spontaneous meetings with geon in the middle of the night, recording songs together and keeping the WORST takes for the laughs. there’s probably a diss-track of them going in on each other floating around somewhere even though geon can’t rap for shit

night owls who keep him company on the phone, even if they can’t be there physically. them talking really quietly vs geon shouting at them while he plays games LMAO

gaming buddies. come over, maybe you can carry geon through his game of the week or you can both fail but have fun while you’re at it… or you can scream while he fends off that hoard of zombies behind you

i’m typing this at the last minute (literally) so i’m gonna stop here, but i will get a proper plots page put up asap with a wider variety of connections!!! but as always, please do let me know if you have any other ideas. i’m always happy to plot and write with you all 🌚

[aries-writingblog]

Atlas (1)

Summary: After years of being imprisoned on the Raft, Tony negotiates freedom for his sister Tessa. When she’s free- so is her past, and it will never stop hunting her.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x OC(Stark)

Chapter Word count: 1,666

Warnings: PTSD (subtle ish), trauma, torture (in later parts), suicidal behaviors and thoughts, mentions of death, character death, injury, violence, angst, and a lil bit of fluff in there

Disclaimer: Atlas is my own, original work with characters belonging to Marvel (except Tessa and Dr. Clifton). Plagiarism is not cool kids.

A/N: this is my first work Im posting to this platform and I’m really excited and nervous about it. Hope you enjoy- constructive criticism is always helpful as well!!

The Avengers Tower. Former Stark Tower. 93 floors of office space, labs- people carrying out their business. People going about their day. At the top of all of them is Tony Stark. Waiting. Waiting in silence. Typically, he isn’t one to wait on anything or anyone but today... today is different. Today is special. Finally, the silence is broken by a shrill ring of his phone. Tony snaps it up, immediately accepting the call.

“Mr. Stark? Reid Kerrings.” The man’s voice carried through the phone, introducing himself. “Listen, I hear you’re trying to to negotiate a prisoners freedom?”

“She shouldn’t even be a prisoner,” Tony grumbled before plastering on a thick business tone. “Yes, that’s what I’m trying to do here. Thing is, I have a plan that I ran by Fury and Coulson and they seem to think it’s a great idea. Only thing is- that prisoner of yours is apparently ‘dangerous’ and she’d need stipulations on if she were to be released into my care.”

Tony hated this- speaking about her as if she were a terrorist. He hated that she’d been in maximum security prisons for six years. He hated that she was on the raft now. But, if he wanted to play ball, he had to agree to the terms. And unfortunately, that was one of the terms. He’d tried it his way two years ago and it got shut down. Several times.

“Well... you’re a damn maniac- prisoner 067112 is a psycho-“

“Her name is Tessa and that’s my sister you’re talking about so if you’d like to see your job another day I’d keep quiet.” Tony snapped, clenching his jaw. The phone fell silent before Kerrings cleared his throat.

“She would have to meet with an appointed therapist three days a week. She would also have to have a check in twice a week with a parole officer. If there is any flare up of her enhancement that is not accounted for by a member of your team, she comes back here and is no longer allowed parole. She is to be on a tight leash.” Kerrings read through the conditions of the agreement that Tony and Fury had worked out. “She must agree to these terms before her release. If she does, she will be escorted to your property tomorrow at 10:00 AM. Do you agree to these statements made today?”

“Yes.” Tony felt an excited, nervous bubble form in his stomach. He was doing it. His sister was almost free.

“Excellent. The escort team will run a security check on the building and perimeter.”

“Oh, well, not to brag or anything but- it’s the Avengers Tower. I ’m pretty sure this is the best it gets in terms of security.” Tony scoffed, turning when he heard the door opening. Steve Rogers stepped into the room, intending on speaking with Tony about another comm unit. He broke his. Again. He stopped short, hearing the man on the phone.

“This woman shouldn’t even be out of her cell here- she’s dangerous, I don’t care if shes your sister or not. The power of this woman is something that should be contained. not roaming around New York on a Thursday afternoon.”

“She’s a human being. No telling what you freaks have put her through in the raft- that’s probably why she’s going insane. You don’t even allow sunlight in that dingy of a prison. You treat someone like an animal, that’s what they become. Now, if you’ll excuse me, i’m going to run my own safety diagnostics on my own tower.” Tony quickly ended the call and lifted his eyes to meet Steve’s. “Can I help you, o wise elder of the yonder village?”

“Just... a new comm piece.” Steve stepped forward and tossed the broken pieces to the desk before meeting Tony’s eyes again. “What was that all about?”

“That is a surprise for the team I’m arranging.” Tony sat down at his desk, pulling up an image of a new weapon system, one that they’d encountered a few weeks ago on a mission. “These thugs were dealing with now... they’re sophisticated. They’re playing on a new ball field. So... I’m leveling it.”

“You can’t just do that without consulting the team first.” Steve scolded, his arms crossing over his chest. “What are you doing?”

“You’ll see- tomorrow morning at ten, have the team all meet in the conference room. I’ll bring my surprise to you.” Tony grinned, feeling strangely optimistic for once. Steve only sighed, knowing he wasn’t going to get anywhere with Tony.

“Fine- I’ll call a meeting.” Steve spun on his heel and marched out of the office. Tony sank further into his chair, spinning it to look out of the window.

“Friday, make sure floor ninety two is fireproof.” Tony called out, a twinge of doubt forming in his mind. He was quick to shake the thought from his mind, funneling all his belief into his sister. It had to work. For her sake.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sitting at the oval conference table, Bucky felt an impatience he hadn’t felt in months. Steve had let it slip- more like Bucky could tell there was something and kept prying- that Tony was on the phone with someone, talking about a prisoner. A woman prisoner. Bucky wasn’t sure what to expect and that caused a great deal of anxiety to pit in his chest. He didn’t like being kept in the dark.

Beside him, Steve sighed heavily, leaning his head on his fist, resting on the table. Being roommates with the guy, he knew Steve hadn’t gotten a lot of sleep last night, like most nights. He knew this because he himself was also up, roaming the apartment, watching tv and staring off the balcony.

“Anyone know what this surprise it stark mentioned?” Natasha pressed, becoming quite impatient herself. They’d all been sitting at the table for fifteen minutes. Waiting.

“No clue- I hope it’s better than the last surprise- the one that exploded while in use on the field.” Sam commented, scrolling absentmindedly on his phone.

Finally, the door to the room burst open, revealing Tony Stark marching in with purpose. Behind him, a woman in heavy chains, with metal cylinders encasing her hands, was being escorted in by two men in fire retardant kevlar uniforms. Her head was bowed, dark brown hair shifting to cover her face. Bucky sat up, seeing the woman marched in, heavily restrained. Tony clapped his hands, rubbing them together afterward. He gave the crowd a large smile and nodded once.

“Surprise, Avengers! This is my favorite sister, Tessa Stark, Tess, this is everyone. I’m sure you were given the brochure.” He turned to the two men. “You fulfilled your duties, you can go now.”

The men unclipped the chains and then pressed their thumbprints to the pads on the cylinders. They released with a hiss of steam, Tessa rubbing her wrists once they were free.

“I know you.” Sam’s voice broke into the conversation. Tessa’s jaw clenched and her eyes stared into the floor. She swallowed harshly, keeping her back ramrod straight and her hands in front of her. “Stark... oh, shit- where have I seen you...”

“Anyways folks, she is here to help out on our new group of rogues... she has a, ah... particular set of skills. Mostly explosives and fire. And since that’s what we’re dealing with, I’ve brought in the big guns.” Tony explained, settling in his chair and gesturing for Tessa to take a seat as well. She seemed wary of sitting beside Wanda but did it anyways, sitting barely on the edge of the chair. “Now, we’re gonna need a new plan of attack with-“

“Atlas!” Sam snapped his fingers, pointing at her. Tessa stiffened, caught off guard by the level of his voice. “That’s it! Code Name Atlas, Operation Dry Sands! You served in the army- I’m Sam Wilson, I flew with-“

“Riley...” her voice was raspy and low, rusted with disuse. “I remember you.” Bucky watched as she seemingly tried to melt into the chair, trying to hide herself.

“You were baller, man! She cleared missions like it was nothing!” Sam praised her, excited to finally meet her. “There was talk of her all over camps- everywhere!”

“Atlas?” Natasha asked, a brow raising. “That’s a peculiar code name- sounds... specific.” Tessa didn’t respond, keeping her head low. When the room fell silent, Steve took control.

“Right, well, Tony you mentioned a new plan of attack?” He expertly guided the topic over to a new path. Bucky couldn’t help but let his attention drift back to the new mystery in the room. He allowed his eyes to scan over her, stopping on her forearm where there was black ink. A tattoo of the army symbol, numbers below it. Maybe her squad number? Her arm shifted and Bucky looked up, meeting her eyes. He knew he’d fucked up.

Her dark brown eyes smoldered- a red tint glowing under her irises. Her lips were pulled into a scowl. He quickly lowered his gaze, catching a glance of her veins in her arms. glowing lightly orange. Bucky clenched his jaw and leaned back into his chair, a fierce scowl building on his lips. He didn’t like this woman, She seemed... violent. closed off. Hell- maybe she was just too much like him. And maybe he shouldn’t make a snap assumption but for some reason...

“Alright well, that’s all for now, Tessa- welcome to the team, please make yourself comfortable and if there’s anything we can do to help out- let us know.” Steve nodded as he stood up.

Tessa only nodded, stood up and spun on her heel- leaving the room without a word. Everyone glanced to Tony. He only shrugged and stood up.

“I’m gonna go make her feel at home- just got out of prison and all, see you around.” Tony gave a small wave over his shoulder and walked out, trailing out after his explosive sister.

[goeymoey]

What if you tricked me?

A BBS short! (Part 1/??)

Hope you enjoy :) !

——-

Nogla’s mic popped as he sat down in his chair. The signature black headphones already perched on his head.

“ Okaay, what we doin’ today boys?”

Miles away, in a different country, Tyler sighed. “ You really gotta get that mic fixed, man.” He turned on his web cam for emphasis and gave Nogla’s profile picture a frown. “ It sounds like shit.”

“ What do ya mean?” Nogla faked a whine. “ It sounds great! everybody loves the sound of my voice through this here mic! Am I rights boys?”. While turning on his web cam as he talked, Nogla leans back in his chair with both arms spread wide open.

“ I sound like a god!”

A neon green light highlights around Brian’s box as he snickers. “ Yeah...the god of shit!” Brian flicks his web cam on but, instead of being greeted with a smiling Irishman, he shows his middle finger.

Nogla sticks out his tongue. “ Shut yer fuckin mouth, traitor.” He crossed his arms with a pout. “ You’re the one who gave me the mic in the first place!”

Tyler and Brian lock eyes on the screen as the later smirks widely.

“ Why do you think that was?”

Nogla shrugs. “ I don’t know! I thought it was because you were being a good friend but-“ He gives Brian a hard stare through his screen “-OBVIOUSLY I was incorrect in my assumption! Hmpf!”

Another mic pop echos through the others headphones after Nogla’s shout, and it makes the two begin to snicker.

“ Sorry for trying to be a GREAT FRIEND and give you something of mine!” Brian says through a laugh. “ I guess I’ll go fuck myself next time!”

“ Shut yer cunt mouth you dirty-“

Nogla’s mic pops as it cuts off the final word to his sentence.

“- Next time I see ya, I’ll make sure to stick my foot up your dirty arse!”

Tyler bangs on his desk with a closed fist before taking off his head seat and walking away from the screen.

His faint laughter can be heard even as he walks out of his office and down the hall.

Brian smiles wide at the echoing laughter of his friend. He hunches over his keyboard, to be closer to the screen, as if he was about to follow Tyler himself.

“ You made the man leave the room, Nogla! how do you feel?”

Nogla scowls. “ I feel nothing towards any of ye cunts now...fuckin hate y’all...”. He mumbles. “ Especially-...Hey! Brock!”. Nogla cuts himself off as the discord ping of someone joining the voice call rings in his headset.

“ Just the man I wanted to see!”

Brock sighs and turns his web cam on. He stares at Nogla with a slack face of indifference.

“ Hey Nogla.”

The tall Irishman smiles wide. “ Did ya miss me?”

Brock scratches at his chin. “ No.”

“ What? Come on, Brock! I’m giving you all my love right here and you just-“ Nogla exaggerates his movements while shaking his hand in front of his face. “-give me this!” He slouches back in his chair. “ You give me nothing.”

Brock smiles. “ Okay...Hey Brian.”

The other Irishman smiles at the acknowledgment and tips his head. “ Hey Brock. How’ve ya been?”

“ Oh, y’know...” Brock holds in his laughter at the sight of Nogla giving him a deadly stare through the screen. “...same old things everyday, every night...the use’.”

Brian stretches his arms behind his back causing the bottom of his shirt to ride up a bit. “ Oh the woes of a single man in he early twenties. Never having any fun.” He rests back into his chair with both arms laying in his lap. “ Bet you wish you would have taken me up on that trip to Ireland, huh?”

Brock rubs at the back of his neck. “ Kinda...but not really.”

Nogla has given up trying to get Brock’s attention back and is now glued to his phone.

He mumbles something under his breath, but the other two males don’t catch it.

The door to Tyler’s office shutting muffles in the back ground of everyone’s head phones as the tall man comes stalking back to his chair. His attention is also focused on his phone, but his face is a mix of confusion and frustration.

He doesn’t reciprocate the others greetings and instead hastily shows the screen of his phone to the web camera.

“ Did any of you guys get this message from Evan?” Tyler’s grip on the blue cases phone tightens as he asks the question.

“ It says he sent it to me a while ago, but I left it down stairs.”

While listening to Tyler speak, both Brian and Brock brought out their phones.

“ Ummm...Yeah...” Brian starts awkwardly. “ I got a message from him too but...but it’s just a link with no url...” He mimics Tyler by holding up his phone to the web cam. “ It’s just a grey box...is that what you got?”

Tyler nods and sets his phone out of view from his camera. The screen facing up at him...just in case.

“ Yeah...it’s weird...How about you, Brock? Nogla?”

“ I got the box.” Brock shows the two his phone.

From his slouched position, Nogla mumbles. “ Same here.” His eyes stay glued to the screen. “ I already clicked on it, and it doesn’t seem...weird.”

The three watch as Nogla sits up and exposes his screen. “ I think it’s just a new game, or something like that.” He faces his phone towards him and then scrolls up on the screen. “ It’s like asking for my email and stuff like that so, I’m just guessing that’s what it is.”

Brock puffs out his cheeks. “ But what if it’s a virus?”

Brian shakes his head while tapping on the link. “ Evan wouldn’t send us a virus. He’s too smart for that.” His eyes shine against the brightness of the phone.

He flips up and down on the screen and then nods with a hum. “ Yeah, I think this might just be a new game for us to play. It all looks that way.....you wanna check it out togther?” Brian looks up from his phone. “ It says it’s multiplayer.”

Tyler purses his lips in an unsavory frown. “ I don’t know...it still seems a little sketchy.”

“ Aww, please, Tyler?! Please!” Nogla clamps his hands together in a plea while bowing his head. “ I’ve already set up my account and made my avatar! It’s too late to back out now!”

Brock huffs. “ Maybe for you.”

Nogla points at the screen with a strict finger. “ You shut yer fuckin mouth you god damn short prick!”

“ Hey! Don’t call me short!”

“ But you are!”

“ No I’m not! I’m 5’9!” Brock glares with his arms crossed. “ It’s like the average height.”

Nogla makes a ‘pft’ noise. “ That’s just what short people say! Now-“ bouncing up from his seat, Nogla waves his phone around dramatically “- hurry up and make y’all’s profiles before I start without ya! I’m getting bored!”

The others sigh at Nogla’s childish behavior, but fill out the link anyway.

It takes a few more minutes then Nogla would have liked- since Brian couldn’t decide whether he wanted his character to have blue or brown hair- but he refrained himself from succumbing to his impatience.

Brock was the last to finish his avatar with a worrying smirk as he tapped the ‘save’ button.

“ Okay, I’m ready. Who’s making the game?”

Nogla pipped up with shimmering eyes. “ I will you slow cunts! I’ve been waiting forever, let’s do this!”

Tyler rolled his eyes. “ It’s been like five minutes.”

“ Well, it felt like a long time!”

Brian scoffed at his friends whining. “ And yer just making it longer by complaining about it.” His arms sit across a wide chest as he laid back with the black cased phone sitting on his desk.

“ Just make the game already, jeez.”

Nogla huffed. “ I’m going I’m going....Okay, what are your guys usernames? The same as always?”

All three nod in agreement.

“ Yeah.”

“ Mhm.”

“ Weirdly, yes. I didn’t even have to change the ‘s’ in ‘Terroriser’ to a ‘z’ or add a 0.”

Brock hummed. “ Same here, and usually my names the first to go.”

Nogla rolls his eyes. “ Whatever, boring. It should be sending you an invite riiight....now.” He points to the screen just as three simultaneous dings pop in the others headphones.

“ The game won’t be able to start unless we all accept so, hurry up!”

Tyler looks down at the acceptance button suspiciously. “ I still don’t feel good about this...but fuck it! Let’s do this!” He taps the button and waits for the others to join.

Brock nods. “ Yeah, it might actually be fun!” He accepts the request.

Brian hesitates as he reads the short paragraph of rules before accepting.

“...this may be too much for some audiences...viewer discretion is-...I think this might be a horror game!” Brian exclaims with glee.

Brock’s face turns pale. “ A horror game? Does it say what it’s about? I didn’t read the warnings!” Brock looks down at his phone with worry as his free hand fiddles with his hair.

“ I wouldn’t of accepted if I had read that...”

Tyler snorts. “ Quit being such a pussy, Brock. It’s a mobile game. No mobile games are scary.”

“ Except for Five Nights at Freddie’s.” Nogla interjects.

“ That’s different.” Tyler responds.

“ How is that different? It’s a mobile horror game?”

“ It’s different because FNAF is based off of real life human things...like the fear that toys are alive or...yeah.” Tyler bites his lips in thought. “ Stuff like that.”

“ That sounds dumb.”

“ You’re dumb!”

“ Shut the fuck up, Nogla.”

“ No. You shut up.”

Brock sighs in irritation. “ Brian, hurry up and accept the invite before I blow my brains out from listening to these two.”

Brian absently nods as he reaches the end of the paragraph. “ Yeah yeah...im almost done.”

He taps the accept button.

“ I was just-“

“ Ooh Shit-“

The world turns black for all four men as their bodies slump down into their chairs. Phones slip carelessly from hands as headphones ride up on their heads and chairs creak beneath pounds of dead weight.

Tyler’s web came shakes as his head slams down on the desk in a dead black out. The door to his office jiggles behind him, but stays shut.

Brock’s head rolls back over his chair as his jaw unhinges to let his mouth hang open freely. The top of his headphones slide forward onto his forehead while his shoulders rise up on the chair.

Nogla’s arms simply drop dead and hang off the armrests of his chair while his head props up, unmoving, on his shoulder.

Brian’s body fully slips out of his chair as all dead weight transfers to the front of his seat and sends the furniture flying backwards. His camera also shakes as his body slams against the ground without trying to catch himself.

Then everything is still.

A green highlight appears around Tyler’s web cam as a bird chirps outside, but nobody moves and nobody talks.

...

Soon, their chests stop rising.

[sanstropfremir]

please let me join the dance conversation since it's the form of art i am actually the most interested in. i've been dancing as a kid for 6 years, and i don't mean to say that that gave me any type of authority in the domain, but it did leave me with the slight ability to recognize a good performance (or whatever makes a good performance to me, personally) and a great appreciation for valueing dancing as acting, like you said. too often i've seen dance ranking videos from actual life-long dancers who value technical skill above anything else. even if they take into consideration the facial expressions, it doesn't hold much weight and that always lowkey pissed me off. because when i am watching a performance, i care way more about the emotional delivery rather than the technical one. of course, this is not to disregard skill, because emotion without skill just ends up messy. good enough to appreciate as a form of authentic self-expression, but still messy, and mess won't make you a good dancer.

i've really enjoyed seeing you say dancing and acting have a mutual component since i've always felt that way too but never knew how to put it in words. two groups that come in mind when thinking about this are blackpink and itzy, i have no idea how familiar you are with them so i'm sorry if the following come across as foreign to you. but i gotta say, regarding bp, i think there's always been discourse over lisa vs rose as the best dancer. technically, everybody knows lisa is miles ahead, and i have to say she has decent stage presence and some pretty nice facial expressions too (taking into consideration how limited bp's concepts have been so far). rose, on the other hand, has a certain style that appeals to a specific audience (which i am not a part of, her lack of body control is so irritating sometimes) but i can see why some would find her charming. i would say her stage presence is decent too, but i can't help but choose lisa over her, and not just because i'm biased. but because in order to be a true dancer, you need the right balance between technique and emotion that gives your performance that star-value and appeal. and let's be real, kpop is really lacking in that "true dancer" department.

another dancing discourse that goes on is in the itzy fandom, where fans are pitting yeji and chaeryeong against each other. their techniques are quite different but they are each very good in their respective style. now, i've seen people call yeji the better "idol dancer" since she has better developed facial expressions, and chaeryeong the better "overall dancer" since people value her technique more. and i'm just like, no. emotion makes or breaks a dancer. everyone can learn technique, but emotion is hard to fake, and when you do, the non-authenticity is very much obvious.

that's why i love san as a dancer. he might not be the most technically skilled, but he is skilled enough to hold his own. and his way of living in the performance, of just letting every feel of the song wash over him and show the audience 110% and more - nothing compares to that, no amount of technicality. stage presence is something you just have, and no matter how much you train for it, you will pale in comparison to a natural.

wow, this is really long so thank you if you take the time to read it all and respond. english is not my first language and sometimes i'm having trouble finding the right words to get my point across exactly how i think of it in my mind, so i hope the message is delivered accurately, haha :D also, i must add i love the way you talk, your speech has a flow and a uniqueness to it you don't find everyday. and we love a developed vocabulary<3 may i ask how old you are?

thank you for the compliment, thats very sweet of you! english is my native language and i have spent just as much time, if not longer doing academics as i have doing performance work so at this point ive developed a very specific style. there’s a joke that theatre design is 90% communication and only 10% design, and it’s not wrong. it helps that i like to talk and my brain works very fast sometimes.

im glad you took the time to write this out! and don't apologize for your english, it's excellent and very clear. you are correct i know very little about blackpink and itzy but i would likely agree with you, dance is equal parts emotion and technique and that is my preference in idols as well. but i don’t think that the kpop industry needs to have ‘true’ dancers, though. yes it is fun to watch those who are technically and charismatically gifted in dance, it is only a portion of the experience that they market. also i think we lose a bit of objectivity in kpop because all idols are required to dance, but i dont think ive seen one recently that's a legitimately bad dancer. even the ‘worst’ dancers that i can think of are still leagues better than the average person on the street, but we see them as ‘bad’ because they work directly alongside peers who are legitimately gifted and have a passion for dance as a form. 

it's interesting to hear you say that everyone can learn technique but emotion is hard to fake, because i hear a lot of dancers say that. i think this comes from a misunderstanding of what exactly acting is and how it works. i would argue that a statement closer to the sentiment that you (and many others) are trying to get is ‘not everyone can do both at the same time.’ the average person is no more predisposed to acting then they are to dance, because acting is a skill that can be taught and exercised in the same way dance can. sure, there are people that have a higher latent ability, but if you put in the work, you can learn. why do you think there are acting classes and schools and conservatories? you can get a doctorate in acting if you really want to. the thing about acting is that in order to be good at it, you have to both understand and be able to implement the correct postures for mimicking human emotion. this is an insanely complex task when you get down to the brass tacks of it. just think about your face and body posture for a moment. why are you sitting/standing in that particular way? why is your face in that particular expression? what do you think your posture is saying to someone who is observing you? how would you change it if you wanted the person to start a conversation with you? if you wanted them to leave you alone? 

there’s also a general assumption that acting comes from a place of genuine or authentic emotion, and this is the fault of modern ‘method’ film acting. i have a very long thesis about how much i hate method acting and i can make a separate post about that if people are curious. but suffice to say, acting very rarely comes from a ‘genuine’ place. it may be informed from a genuine place, but by nature it is not real. thats what makes it acting. and i think dancers seem to be under the impression that showing emotion while dancing has to come from the dancer personally feeling those emotions, when thats not the case at all. this criminal fancam is a perfect example of exactly how good taemin is at putting on a character for a performance. you can very clearly see him drop character after the main camera cuts, and pretty much any concert footage shows this as well.

now, being able to do both a complex system of physical movements with your body and also control the minute details and timing in your facial muscles and posture? thats pretty fuckin hard. not a lot of people can do that, it takes just as much practice as learning technique does, just not in the way that people might think. but it is possible.

[angrylizardjacket]

mouth full of white lies {Machine Gun Kelly} 2

2. i been fronting that it’s just for the summer

Summary: So you’re together, sort of, and it’s great! Everyone seems to be convinced, that’s not the issue. The issue comes when you fly to LA for filming, and you decide to stay with Colson, but the room only has one bed. And the paparazzi crash your first “date”. And he kisses you and your heart feels like it’s going to burst out of your chest, which is not supposed to happen because this isn’t a real relationship! But it’s fine. Probably. 

A/N: So bare with me, it’s a very long chapter. Also, pretend the Tunnel of Love remix by haroinfather came out before 2018 and not in 2019. Enjoy. 

the brainstrust: @sataninsatin @silvertonguedserpent @juliarose21 @kellysimagines @estxxbritt @machine-gun-casie @harringtonstudios @misscharlottelee @narcvissa @hiworlditishumbleme @angelwarner28 @nevilles-insinuations @rumoured-whispers @mgkobsessed @edwardtriggerhandzz @suckerforbarnes @wastelcve @bakerkells @local-troubled-writer @freddiessmallnipples @oopsiedoopsie23

----

It feels like you’re braced for impact when you walk into rehearsals the day after you release the video. Douglas has already seen it, of course he has, he messages you minutes after it’s posted.

[Dig Doug: Not gonna say I Told You So, but im glad you’re happy. 🦆🦆]

It gets you to smile, despite your anxiety surrounding the whole situation.

“Now what?” Colson asked after the video was posted, sitting next to you on his bed. The duvet is so soft, and somehow the whole situation is so inherently soft. Maybe it’s that you’re both in hoodies and sweat pants. Maybe it’s that you’d just told the world that you’re dating. His eyes are so blue.

You phone goes off. 

His phone goes off. 

Both of you have Twitter muted, but even so, it needed to let you both know that you were getting a lot of mentions.

“Now we’re dating,” you say, flipping your phone over, while Colson picks his up, opening Twitter and beginning to scroll through his mentions. Where in the Hell were you meant to go from here.

“Alright, cool; you wanna get pizza or something?” He asks, simple as that, and it’s now you seem to realise that you’ve been so stressed from everything that had been happening that you hadn’t been remembering to feed yourself.

“Honestly, I’d love to.”

The next day, however, it’s the elephant in the room; the others don’t say anything, but everyone, even Douglas to some extent, was wondering how in the hell they had missed your apparent relationship. But it’s not awkward; you and Colson act the same as always, you take notes for Josy, and get coffee, and type away on your laptop. 

They break for lunch, and you look up from your work only to see Josy making a beeline for you, an intimidating look of determination written all over her face. Ah, here’s where the interrogation begins. Glancing over your shoulder you see Colson shoot you an amused, if concerned look, glancing to Josy. In response, you shrug; it can’t be helped.

“We need to talk,” Josy tells you, steers you from the room, across the parking lot, into a whole new building, where she paces for about three minutes, unable to look at you, hands basically pulling out her hair, all of which amuses you greatly. When she comes to a stop in front of you, it’s as if you can see the cogs of her brain turning, her fingers steepled in front of her mouth as she tries to order her thoughts.

“You know you’re my favourite assistant in the world and I treasure our friendship, right?” She asks, and you fix her with a fondly exasperated stare.

“Of course, you see fit to remind me every time I bring you coffee -”

“Then why, my little duck, my little goose, apple of my eye, enchilada of my bosom,” she says with an almost poisonous sweetness, looking you directly in the eye, “would you date one of my actors?” And you have to hold back your laughter in the face of her sincere and rather angry confusion.

“Josy, please,” you start, and she already looks like she wants to interrupt, “I like him is all, okay? I won’t be a distraction -” you can already see her trying to protest, but you hold up your hand to stop her, “and he won’t distract me; if anything, it means there’ll be no outside distractions, hopefully.”

“[Y/N] you test me,” Josy sighs deeply, scrubbing at her face, “how long?”

This gives you cause for hesitation, because neither you nor Colson had thought to get your whole story straight the night before. He had ordered room service and you’d just talked about music until you finally went back to your own room. An oversight, sure, but you had been glad to have a plan, and were happy to figure out the details later.

“A few weeks -” when you say this, Josy makes a choked, wheezing noise, and you pause, “since... uh, since he took us around the city at the end of the first week.”

“Does Douglas know?”

“He’s not my handler,” you fire off reflexively, and Josy winces, a little sheepish, “but yes.” You paused. “Now.”

Josy lets the whole conversation slide with some reluctance, and she asks you to get her lunch from the deli a few blocks away. You agree, partially because it’s your job, but mostly because you’re just glad to get out of the building and away from her exasperated, judgmental stares.

He’s corrupting you. It’s what the media thinks. It’s what Josy thinks. And something about the assumption is already starting to get under your skin. But right as you start to get truly annoyed by the subtext she had been blasting you with, you hear your phone chime.

[Colson: am i gonna get The Talk from my AD later on? Ducky: wot Colson: like u no... if you hurt my daughter im gonna hurt you Ducky: Josys not my mom??? shes like 3 years older than me???? Colson: its a joke. chill ducky. everything alright tho? Ducky: told her wed been dating since that night i filmed a few weeks ago Colson: smart. everyone thinks weve been together since then nyways Ducky: you want anything from the deli? Colson: what Ducky: im at the deli. u want a sandwich? Colson: yeh sure. surprise me. maybe chicken idk. webber wants a chocolate milk Ducky: milks bad for vocal cords Colson: he doesnt care 😈]

It makes you laugh. He makes you laugh. It’s as easy as that; you’re still friends, it’s just that you spend more time together, are closer, when you go out for dinner with the cast, he’s invariably beside you. You’re both always on time to rehearsals, and he keeps sending you selfies from costume and makeup tests, and it’s going fine, great even, despite all the nasty DMs you were still receiving. Of course the supportive ones always outweighed the negative, and even the negative didn’t really bother you, because it’s not as if there was a real relationship in jeopardy, so it actually took a lot of weight off your shoulders.

Filming is set to start on location in LA after about a month and a half of rehearsals, and while the first month had primarily been working on scenes, the extra fortnight you’d been there had been almost consistently rehearsing as a band for eight hours a day, six days a week. The day before you’re due to fly off, the whole cast looks exhausted at brunch. 

“Pass me the salt,” Colson yawns, half asleep with his head against the window of the cafe.

“It’s right in front of you,” you counter, knocking his knee with yours beneath the table.

“My arms don’t work,” he groaned, but he was smiling now, just a little. You look to the other cast members all enjoying their own respective breakfasts. Daniel’s on voice rest, despite the fact that they’re going to be using recordings of Motley Crue themselves for the actual film, they still want him able to perform covers for when they’re filming; currently he’s nursing a lemon and ginger tea with enough honey to drown a bee. Actually, Colson was the only one out of the four of them not to be drinking tea; both Iwan and Douglas both having ordered a cup with their breakfasts. Iwan was the only one who looked ready for the day, with the rest of them all slumped over in various states of exhaustion.

“Ducky, come on, please?” Colson actually whined, and you rolled your eyes, passing him the salt.

“You’re so needy,” you tell him, but your smile is enough to let him know that you’re joking.

“Why’re you called Duck, if I may ask?” Iwan asks, and you heave a sigh, knowing Douglas was already smiling before you even turn to look at him.

“Because when our parents first brought her home, all she did was follow me around like a duckling,” his tone is all fond, and he wraps his arm around your shoulders, pulling you in for a side hug despite your indignant noise of protest.

“Adorable,” Iwan grins over the lip of his cup. You just groan, and steal a bite of Douglas’ pancakes, though he doesn’t seem to mind, “have you worked much in the industry?” Iwan’s accent sounds like home, and despite how quiet and bitter he is in character, he’s rather bright and talkative as a person.

“Here and there; I actually spent quite a few of my teenage years as Doug’s assistant when he would be filming in London,” you say with a half-smile, “still a bit of a duck I suppose, but it looks good on my CV. I do odd-jobs on sets here and there back home, have been a runner for a few TV shows, but I don’t really go out of my way to be on camera, you know,” you shrug, before hearing your mistake. Both Colson and Douglas are already laughing, while Daniel and Iwan just seem confused. “Apart from, like, my actual job, you know? Like I’m on camera for YouTube, but not for a real movie or anything.”

“Well you seem very good at your job, we’re glad to have you onboard,” Iwan nods with a surprisingly sincere smile. Beneath the table, Colson’s hand is on your knee, and he gives you a small squeeze.

“I thought your hands didn’t work?” You raise an eyebrow at him, and Douglas almost spits his drink all over Daniel at the implication.

“Excuse me?” His eyes are wide as saucers and Colson’s quickly turning red.

“I said my arms don’t work but damn, call me out why don’t you?” He splutters, raising his hands in the air in mock surrender, with only mild wincing. It’s about now that you realise the assumption that your brother had jumped to.

“His hand was on my knee, Doug, I was trying to make a joke,” you explain, flustered, though Daniel and Iwan on the other side of the booth have collapsed on top of each other with laughter. You, Douglas, and Colson, however, are all equally mortified, and make a point to move so neither of you are touching as you finish your breakfast quickly.

“I just appreciate,” Daniel was still chuckling as you all left the cafe, as was Iwan, “that Doug genuinely thought Colson was getting busy with his sister at brunch, like, right next to him under the table.

“Nah,” Iwan actually laughs, his smile sharp, “they’re just really in character.”

“Hello! Hello and welcome back, ducklings! Today we’re flying all the way to sunny L.A, which honestly isn’t that far from Portland, but the production company was nice enough to not make us road trip it.” 

The video starts in your hotel room, and follows you as you pack your things, and cuts to a montage set to some royalty-free music, of you heading to the airport, of the cast yawning. Your brother buys you breakfast at a fast-food restaurant in the airport, and you check your bags; a panning shot in the waiting area, of every single member of the cast and crew that are taking this flight on their phones.

“You look cute,” you mutter very quietly to Colson, who’s sitting next to you, scrolling through Twitter with a travel pillow squished up around his neck. He gives you a toothy smile, leans his cheek against the pillow, and winks at the camera. 

The hotel you’re staying at is beautiful, all marble pillars in the foyer and beige and cream counters, and it feels like it might be too much. This is where the stars stay, and you? You know you’re absolutely not a star.

“Duck?” And there’s Josy’s voice, hesitant, about to tell you the jig is up, hand you keys to a water stained motel room a few blocks away. When you turn to her, she’s got two separate key cards in her hands.

“Yes, Josy?” You ask sweetly; it’s not her fault, after all, that you’re not a top-billed star. 

“So corporate wanted to put you with some of the other crew, they’re staying in a place down the road - it’s really lovely, trust me, and if you want it we can still get you a room - but,” Josy glanced to the cards in her hand, before holding them out, one in each hand, “if you’d like to stay here, both your brother and Colson are happy to share with you.” And at this, your brain stalls, looking at the key cards being offered to you.

“Why didn’t they tell me this?”

“Because they’re already heading up, but they wanted me to let you know that the offer’s there.”

So it seems that in the three minutes that you were mooning over the architecture, and giving the guys their space, since you’d assumed you’d be staying elsewhere, both your brother and your fake boyfriend happened to mention that you’re able to stay with them if you want. Douglas is not a surprise; Colson is. 

“How big are the rooms, I don’t want to -” you start, but Josy’s quick to cut you off.

“The size isn’t the matter; they’re big enough rooms, got really comfortable sofas from what I could see, but...”

“But?” You prompt, and Josy gives a smile. 

“Of course, it’s all about what you’re comfortable with; you know Doug’s more than happy to take the sofa, I just know you and Colson haven’t been together that long -” And here it all starts to make sense, and you hope the smile you give isn’t nervous as you ask which key is which. You take Colson’s.

The elevator ride up to the cast’s floor has you wracked with nerves, which you think is ridiculous; you can sleep on the sofa, it’s no trouble, and he wouldn’t have offered the room if he hadn’t meant it. So why does the idea of staying in a room with him, with only one bed, have your heart beating so fast? You’d been teasing each other, flirting and being cute together, in front of other people, that was easy, but since the night you’d released the video, you hadn’t really been alone together. You hadn’t needed to be. It seems like all you can think about as you walk down the beige hallway to your room, on auto-pilot as you scan your key card and enter the room.

It’s quiet.

There’s the gentle whistling of wind that comes from the balcony, the overhead sun beating down on the pristine, Hollywood beaches. He sits on the balcony, plush armchair, smoking a joint with his shirt off. Inside, it’s all white walls and gold accents, his suitcase on the bed, already open the contents inside surprisingly neatly folded. There’s a door beside you that you’re pretty sure leads to the bathroom, and the room itself is spacious, with a gorgeous, gray sofa sitting off to one side, and a wall-mounted television on the other. Just for the moment, all the fears and anxieties in your mind vanish at the sight of this pristine serenity.

Quietly, you wheel your own suitcase to the sofa, and pull out your phone. 

He’s stunning, like that, his feet up on the coffee table on the balcony, free hand tapping a lazy beat on the arm of his chair. You take a candid photo of him as he exhales smoke, and it catches the sunlight beautifully, with the water out of focus in the background. 

“Can I post this?” You ask, and he jumps a little, not having heard you come in, before his concerned expression morphs to a genuine smile when he realises that it’s you. Turning the phone to him, you show him the photo you took, and he lowers his sunglasses to get a proper look at it. After a beat, his gaze flicks to yours.

“’course, it’s a nice photo.”

“You’re very photogenic,” you brush of his compliment with a smile, and he pushes his glasses back up his nose, looking out from the balcony.

“You crashing here?” 

“If it’s not too much trouble,” you respond, and he actually laughs, though the sound is kind.

“Wouldn’t have offered if it was.”

Easy. Like everything else about him, it seemed, this was easy.

You caption the photo ‘the view from my balcony 😍’ and post it on both Twitter, and your Instagram story, tagging him in both, and you set about checking out the room’s facilities. It’s a normal, if fancy hotel room. Little bottles of soaps and shampoo and conditioner in the bathroom, TV with a bunch of standard channels, and a whole ton more that you could pay for if you wanted, it even had a set of cables so you could charge your phone, either side of the bed. The singular bed. Which Colson has clearly already claimed.

Maybe it had been a mistake to not board with your brother. 

“I’m getting lunch, you want anything?” You call, needing to get out of your own head for a bit, wanting to explore the city a little. He’s quiet for a moment, then you hear a strained ‘yeah’.

“Gimme a moment, let me put on a shirt and I’ll come with you,” he tells you through a lung full of smoke, putting the joint out in the ash tray provided, tucking the other half in his pocket for later.

“You not gonna vlog this?” He asks, half smiling in the elevator, hands tucked into his pockets. 

“Oh, shit, knew I forgot something,” you mutter, and you go to punch in the number of your floor again, but his hand catches yours. 

“We’re coming back after, don’t worry about it.”

And, well, you don’t.

It’s easy to talk to him, you swap stories about life in the entertainment industry from two wildly different perspectives, and you find a cute and overpriced restaurant to have lunch in. All the while, you’re so aware of where you are, how there could be any number of people snapping photos of the pair of you. It’s not like you’re being overtly couple-y, you’d only been putting on this ruse for three weeks at this point, but he pays for your lunch.

“Oh, I didn’t realise this was a date,” you admit, a little surprised, a little flustered. He shrugs, eats the last bite of his burger, and smiles.

“Why not? We haven’t had the chance to go on one yet, let’s take it for a test drive. Do they- are boardwalks still a thing? Is a boardwalk carnival still a thing or was that just the nineties?” You’re actually rather taken aback by his suggestion, and can’t help but grin, picking up your mostly empty glass to swirl the ice at the bottom.

“Pretty sure boardwalks are a thing, not sure about carnivals on them, but we can check it out.”

You each finish your drinks and leave, setting off for the waterfront. Feeling bold, you tuck your arm in his, and enjoy the Spring-time sunshine. The boardwalk, as it turns out, is still definitely a thing, as are the kitschy carnival rides along it. 

“I feel like a fuckin’ teenager,” Colson mutters under his breath, knowing you’ll hear it, “if we see a couple where they’re both wearing braces, looking like they just got out of school, I’m throwing myself straight into the ocean.” He informs quietly, and you snort at that.

“Not a fan of traditional cute date shit?” You ask, as the pair of you approach the ticket booth. 

“Not in the slightest,” Colson admits through his teeth while trying to smile at the attendant. The attendant, who obviously recognizes at least one of you, is doing her best not to look like she’s staring. You each buy a ride pass and head in, and the girl tells you to have a good afternoon, with a nervous sort of excitement. 

“This feels like somewhere I’d go with my daughter,” Colson looks doubtfully up at the ferris wheel that sat ahead of you at the end of the pier, looking more than a little perturbed, but his words struck you in a way that you hadn’t expected.

“Have you told her about us?” You asked, and he casts an unreadable glance at you.

“Listen, if we’re going to talk about... stuff like this, let’s at least do it somewhere a little more private?” It seems he, just like you, is acutely aware of how busy the little set of attractions is, and having already been recognized once, it’s almost certainly not going to be the last time today.

The gangly-limbed teenager working the ferris-wheel doesn’t even hide that he’s staring at Colson with hero-worship in his eyes, and he gives you a look over, followed by an approving, rather smug nod, before closing the door of the carriage. It makes your skin crawl.

“Why does everyone get to decide if I’m good enough for you based on my looks?” You hear yourself mutter, but Colson’s slinging his arm around your shoulders as the pair of you are raised steadily into the air. 

“Who gives a shit? They’re jealous, and it doesn’t matter because we’re not really together anyways,” he’s got a point, but your expression is still downcast, and there’s a strange sadness settling in the pit of your stomach. 

“I suppose.”

Once you’re high enough in the air that no-one from the ground should be able to hear either of you even a little bit, Colson sits back, lets his gaze drift across the horizon.

“I told Cassie about us, told her the truth.” He doesn’t sugar coat it, doesn’t try and explain his way out of it, when instead he looks tense, like he’s read to defend himself. You, however, nod, giving him an understanding smile.

“Of course, she’s your daughter,” you pause, and he finally looks back at you, and you think you see some hint of relief in his eyes, “I never expected for you to lie to her.”

“She’s a good kid,” he assures softly, “got a good head on her shoulders.” And now he’s turning fond, giving your shoulder a squeeze, “fuckin’ who knows where she got it, ‘cos it ain’t me.” Laughing a little, he’s surprised when you answer, voice soft and sincere.

“You’ve gotta give yourself more credit,” you tell him matter-of-factly, “you wouldn’t be half as successful as you are if you didn’t have a good bit of sense.”

“I knew there was a reason I was dating you,” he teases, pulling you in close, but you play along.

“Yeah, it’s that good sense of yours,” you returned, and he gave you a gentle shove. “Am I going to meet her at all?” You ask finally, and Colson gives another shrug.

“Yeah, I mean sure, she wants to come to set, so if you’re around you’re welcome to meet her,” his fingers are drumming lightly against your shoulder, “I should warn you though, she tends to vet any girls I’m getting serious about pretty hard, fake or not.” And yeah, you’re laughter’s a bit disbelieving, and though he sees the humour in it, he doesn’t seem to be joking, “she’s a good judge of character, and I’ll tell you now, I’m mad protective of her, but she’s mad protective of me too.” The thought of it is actually endearing, and you lean into him, letting yourself heave a sigh of contentment, glad to have talked this through.

“This would have been real nice to film,” he muttered, a teasing edge to his voice as the two of you stared out at the glittering ocean.

“Don’t even start,” you gave his ribs a shove, which only made him laugh, the sound warm and easy in the afternoon air, the sun moving slowly to the horizon.

Slowly but surely Colson was warming to the little boardwalk carnival. The two of you play obviously rigged games, and ride the rollercoaster that creaks ominously, and he even convinces you to share some fairy floss. He snaps a picture of you grinning wide and genuine as you offer him the treat, and posts it to Twitter with the caption ‘sweet’. 

There’s a Tunnel of Love ride that Colson had adamantly refused to go on at first, but as sunset was drawing closer, he relented. 

“I’m not a cliche! I’m not a fucking cliche!” He huffs, sitting beside you with his arms crossed, his legs so long that his knees came up almost comically. You’re filming on your phone for your Instagram story, and will later add at least two heart gifs, but for now you’re just obnoxiously singing the Tunnel of Love remix, thankful that you’re the only two on the ride at the moment.

“You so fucking cute, when I see you, I uwu, can you be my fucking boo? Can you be my sailor moon?” Hearing the smile in your voice, he turns to you, something about his expression softening as he sees the joy written all over your face that the camera can’t see, “and I don't wanna fight, I just wanna treat you right; I was aiming at your heart and I don't wanna say goodbye.” 

He just laughs, and shakes his head as the ride takes off, fond adoration written all over his face.

The sun’s setting by the time you’ve ridden all the rides you wanted to, eaten all the candy you could possibly stomach, and failed at enough rigged games that you were about ready to call it quits. 

“Hey I didn’t just wanna come here for the carnival shit,” he said, and you’ve got your arm tucked into his again as he steers you both to the edge of the boardwalk, where there was a set of steps down to the beach. 

“Under the boardwalk,” you nod knowingly, which he parrots back with a smile. Beneath the boardwalk there was a gaggle of youth, looking slightly older than teenagers, some still in uniforms from boardwalk rides, some smoking, most looking intimidating, but when Colson asks them for a light, they seem to get much less hostile.

“Hey are you MGK?” One asks, and when Colson lights the half a joint he had from earlier, he nods. “Sick.” The kid nods sagely, before his gaze turns on you. “And you’re that Booth chick, aren’t you? I’ve seen you on Twitter.” It’s not hostile, it’s genuinely curious.

“You’re a fucking idiot, Eddie, that’s [Y/N], do you live under a rock?” One of the girls pipes up, decked out in black, with a thick piercing through her septum, and an intimidating amount of eyeliner. The boy, Eddie, flushes scarlet, and snaps that not everyone watches the same shit as her. “I’m Samara,” the girl offers with a grin, offering her hand to you, which you shake, more than a little pleased with their various reactions.

“I heard yous was boinking -” a third girl interrupts, wearing a boardwalk uniform and hitting a vape pen pretty hard. 

“Emma!” More than one of them shout, though Samara is the loudest.

“Is boinking still the term?” Colson snorts, taking it all in stride, though he’s got an arm around you now, “Jesus fuck I feel ancient.”

“You are -” Emma interrupts, much to the rest of the group’s chagrin, but Colson just laughs.

“I’m twenty-seven you fucker!” He crows, and Emma cracks a smile, and takes another hit off of her vape pen. “Whatever,” he shrugs, “just tryin’ to show my girl everything LA has to offer.” 

“So you come under the boardwalk?” Eddie asks, with a skepticism that made you all flustered at his insinuations.

“Can you blame us for wanting a bit of privacy?” Colson smirks, to which the group of youths all collectively ‘ooh’ at, and he gives your hip a squeeze. 

“Try the one a quarter of a mile that way,” Samara points further down the beach, “less carnival, less people.” She winks, before adding, surprisingly hopefully, “but could we get like, a photo or something first?” 

Of course you both agree, and among the group photos, you learn that they’re all working around town during winter break for college. Samara specifically asks for a photo with you, where she plants a kiss on your cheek, looking a little flustered herself, muttering a quiet thanks. You follow her back on Instagram, and she gives you this starry-eyed look.

“She’s got a crush on you,” Colson snickers as the two of you head down the beach, well and truly out of earshot of the others, and you smile, finally looking up from your phone, a little endeared at the young woman’s antics. 

“Jealous?” You ask, loftily, and you expect him to laugh, but he goes quiet. When you turn to him, he’s regarding you with amusement, and something else you can’t quite identify. “Colson?” And you slow, now near enough to the next section of the boardwalk. As promised, it was rather secluded. 

After a beat, he leans in and kisses you, soft and unexpected, but his lips fit against yours like you were made for each other. Leaning into him, you wrap your arms around him, letting him pull you close. Not exactly sure what triggered this, you’re just happy to lean into it, enjoying the moment. And then he’s pulling back, forehead resting against yours.

“You see the guy to our left who’s just left the group of kids under the boardwalk? Hawaiian shirt and expensive camera?” He asks quietly, and you glance out of the corner of eye, only to spot the exact person he’s talking about, you make a quiet noise of confirmation, and you keep up the ruse, hand coming up to cup his jaw, butterflies going ballistic in your stomach despite now knowing that it was obviously for show, “been following us for the past hour.”

“Fucking paps,” you hiss, but before your expression can sour, he kisses you again, gives you a squeeze, as if to remind you to put on a show of not noticing him. Much to your surprise, he bites gently at your bottom lip, and you let out a quiet but pleased noise that neither of you had expected, and when he leans back, he looks both surprised and kind of into it, what’s more unexpected is that the exact same expression is written all over your face too.

“Back to the boardwalk, uber back to the hotel?” You ask, resolutely not talking about what had happened, but still smiling and all up in his personal space.

“Love it, let’s get out of here,” and he takes your hand, and leads you back to the safety of the street. It’s the first time the two of you had kissed, not that you’d realised it in the morning, but it was good, you reflect, it felt like it made sense. If you’re a little more giddy than you probably should be on the way back, Colson doesn’t seem to notice, in fact, he’s grinning too, humming to himself.

There’s two posts, one right after the other on Samara’s Instagram story when you check it that night, after having briefly seen it in the uber on the way back to the hotel. 

The first is a video captioned [gross thats my mom and dad] The video was pixelated as hell, and she hadn’t tagged either you or Colson, but you knew it was the two of you, wrapped up in each other, half a mile down the beach. In the background, her friends are arguing about something much closer, though one voice cuts through louder than the rest.

“Hey, Hawaiian shirt hipster paparazzi fuck! Yeah you! Give ‘em some fucking privacy!” And as the voice, who you think is Emma, shouts, Samara turns to focus the camera on the paparazzi Colson had spotted earlier, still incredibly zoomed in, capturing his sheepish, angry expression in all it’s rather pixelated glory.

“Fuck you kids!” He shouts back. Someone throws a can at him.

“Piss off!” Samara shouts, “we know you’re not taking photos of seagulls, cunt!” He goes to respond, but the group just starts chucking things at him. In the background, you can see yourself and Colson heading back up to street level, oblivious to what was going on.

The second post is a screenshot of a set of DMs between yourself and Samara.

@yourinstagramhandle mentioned you in their story

6:28pm

@yourinstagramhandle responded 😍 to your story @yourinstagramhandle: god i fucking love you guys, it was so great to meet you @unholy-samara-tin: 😅😅😅 it was the right thing to do lmao no stress he was a creepy fucker

It’s captioned [HOLY SHIT I’VE DIED AND GONE TO HEAVEN].

You get dinner with Douglas and tell him about your day, and he gives you this sweet, if a little smug smile.

“You seem very happy.” He says, knowingly.

“I am, it was a good day!” You tell him, and he hums, but won’t say anything else on the matter. The conversation is taken up mostly by excitement regarding the makeup and costume fittings that they have over the next week and a half before filming starts, and then it’s back to your own rooms. At your door, Douglas calls out to you, three rooms away.

“It’s strange to see you so grown up, duckling,” he hasn’t called you that in so long, not since you were children, even your mother had abandoned that nickname for the mildly less embarrassing ‘Duck’ in the past few years, and while it warmed your heart, you couldn’t help but tense in anticipation for some sort of gentle, sibling embarrassment, probably to do with you sharing a room with your ‘boyfriend’. 

“And?”

“And nothing,” he shrugged, “never thought you’d become cool is all, a star in your own right, aren’t you?” 

“Of course I’m cool, would you like me to give you some pointers?” You asked sweetly, and Douglas couldn’t help but laugh at that.

“I walked into that one, didn’t I? Anyways, have a good rest of your night, Colson and Dan have gone out drinking.”

“Thanks for the heads up,” you tell him, and the two of you finally go into your separate bedrooms. He’s right, of course, there’s clothes strewn all over the bed, and the shower’s been recently used, and the whole little place has a warm, clean smell, like the last mist of some spiced cologne was still lingering in the air. The only light on is one of the bedside lights, and the lights of the city outside twinkle brightly, though you can’t see many stars for the light pollution. You crack the screen door to the balcony open, and shiver a little, though you tell yourself it’s from the cold, and not because the rather comforting and clean smells were quickly dissipating. 

You are alone when you try to fall asleep on the plush but desperately uncomfortable sofa, alone and struggling to pass out with the bedside light still on, not wanting Colson to have to stumble around in the dark when he gets back. You spend almost a full hour on your phone blocking people who send you nasty DMs, and responding to a few kind ones, and you post a photo of the roof just captioned ‘cant sleep’.

It’s just gone one when the door clicks open, and Colson steps in, pretty well coordinated, and trying to keep quiet. But then there’s you, staring back at him in the lamp light.

“Hey.”

“Hey.” 

Awkward silence.

“Why are you on the sofa?” He asks, hauling his bag from the bed, shoving his loose clothes in haphazardly, before patting down his pockets. “Sorry if I woke you,” it’s almost an afterthought, and he pulls out a box of cigarettes.

“You didn’t,” you tell him with a yawn that says otherwise, but you power through it, “and I didn’t want to intrude.”

He casts a dubious glance at how you’re angled on the sofa, but doesn’t say anything, and opens the sliding door wider to sit on the porch and have his cigarette. Without even hesitating, you join him, and your spine thanks you the moment you stand.

“Nice night?” You ask, sitting out on the balcony with him.

“Nice night,” he agrees, adding, “nice day all around.” And something about it makes your heart flutter. “You know you can take the bed; I’d rather sleep on the floor than have you get scoliosis.”

“I don’t think that’s how scoliosis works,” you say with a huff of laughter, but he just hums, “and you don’t need to do that, I’m fine,” you try to insist.

“You know you’re welcome to just share the bed, it’s fucking massive, I feel like I’ll get lost in it,” he actually yawns, takes another drag of his cigarette. 

“So you want me to, what, ground you somehow?”

“I just wanna know that if I roll over in the night and there’s something solid there, that it’s your arm and not like, the lightpost in fuckin’ Narnia,” he tells you, and breathes out a lung full of smoke. You watch it hang in the air, pale and silver in the light of the moon. 

“We’re gonna be in the tabloids tomorrow,” you tell him quietly.

“No-one reads tabloids anymore, we’re gonna be on like, those snapchat news things,” he says, and laughs but it doesn’t sound very amused. “Have you been getting less shit?”

“Actually,” you consider, “yeah, most of your fans are mad supportive when you ask them to be. What about you?”

“Your fans are cute, you know that? I was scrolling through twitter and I saw a whole bunch of photos of us like, photoshopped together,” he paused to chuckle, “some had flower crowns.” You can hear the smile in his words, and he seems quite enamored by the phenomenon. It’s a nice moment; he’s drunk and a little high and you’re exhausted, and you fall into bed like it’s a sitcom.

“Tell your spine I said ‘you’re fucking welcome’,” he tells you, and it’s so absurd that you laugh, even as you pull the covers up over you and snuggle in, comfortable as all hell, before turning the light off.

Then, there’s movement, and a loud ‘thwap’ as Colson’s hand comes to knock your shoulder, landing on top of the duvet. 

“Narnia?” He asks, and you give a small smile in the dark.

“Just me.”

You wake in the morning to the sound of Colson’s alarm, or more accurately, his groaning at his alarm. And swearing. And muttered ‘fucking makeup tests’. 

He’s dragging himself into the shower while you relish your days off, nose and eyes peaking out from the covers when he comes out of the shower wrapped in a towel. The two of you make direct eye contact before you mutter a flustered apology and flip away from him, though he doesn’t seem to know how to react, just quietly getting dressed. The rest of his morning routine passes mostly in silence, before you hear him open the door.

“If you wanna get like, lunch or dinner or something, lemme know, or I’ll let you know if the boys are organising something,” he tells you, and you call out a sleepy thanks in response. The door closes. Silence. You could go back to sleep, but you’re curious about the turn around time for paparazzi media, and you were not disappointed.

MTV’s snapchat story posted “MGK and New Boo [Y/N] Booth Caught Getting Steamy Under the Boardwalk” the headline.

The self-proclaimed ‘Rap Devil’ Machine Gun Kelly, best known for his album bloom, has managed to find himself locking lips with YouTube’s darling [Y/N] Booth, though you may know her best as the vlogger, and entertainment industry insider, DuckDuckBooth.

It seems new media’s hottest couple have finally landed in LA after their surprising hookup in Louisiana, set to continue working on some mysterious project that they keep hinting at, and they seem to still be going strong!

The pair were caught after a cute date along the Hollywood seaside - 

[And here they’d entered your Instagram story, from the Tunnel of Love, as well as Colson’s Twitter picture of you with the fairy floss.]

- after meeting a group of fans, they found somewhere a little more private to get a little bit romantic in a way that 90s kids truly will appreciate; making out under a boardwalk. It feels like it should be ripped straight from a John Hughes movie set in Hollywood.

However unlikely this pair may be, you can’t deny that they’re cute together.

[And here’s those traitorous, and almost painfully HD photos of yourself and Colson, wrapped up in each other, that the paparazzi had taken the day before, though with the legs of the boardwalk, as well as the ocean and the sunset as your backdrop, the photos themselves are surprisingly stunning.]

“Fucking paps,” you mutter under your breath, and screenshot the photo anyways. If it’s your lock screen, well, it’s what any real girlfriend would do, right?

[maybeebeee]

The Instance of the Curry Cup

Hi! I haven’t written and posted something in quite a while, but Pokemon SWSH has absolutely consumed my life so here’s a little thing while I’m writing a much bigger thing!

A group chat leads to a party that leads to a curry cooking competition. Piers relentlessly teases Gloria for having a crush on Hop. Hop has a crisis. Just another day in the life of some of Galar's most prominent figures.

As a note for the group chat section of this fic, here are the nicknames to note which characters are who!

Hippity Hop = Hop Eat Sand = Raihan Champion Time Snr = Leon Croon Toondra = Gloria Mermaid = Nessa Big Tiddy Goth GF = Piers Flame Dad(dy) = Kabu Wooloolooloo = Milo Kung Fu Fighting = Bea Rocky Horror = Gordie Baby Goth = Marnie

Rated G, some mild language use | Hop, Gloria, and the other rivals are around 15/16 | Read on AO3 or under the cut!

It had all started with a group chat.

Not long after becoming Champion, Gloria had been added to the gym leader group chat. Leon, Piers, and Opal were still in it and she had learned quickly that Piers, Gordie, and Raihan were the instigators of most of the chaos in that chat. Marnie seemed to encourage her brother a little too much on that front, but overall it was fairly controlled chaos.

Then the second group chat came about.

Raihan had started it, mainly to avoid Melony’s constant reminders to be aware of the language being used with Allister around on the other chat. Subsequently, neither Melony nor Allister were on the new chat.

Nearly everyone else was, though, besides Opal. Even Hop and Sonia had been added, given that it was more of an open chat than the “official” gym leader one. Given that combination, however, it was far more of an ordeal to try and deal with that group, and with Piers and Raihan apparently never sleeping at all, it felt like Gloria’s Rotomphone was constantly buzzing with notifications at even the most insane hours of the night.

It had been just over a year since she’d won the Champion Cup, and Gloria now found herself standing in the kitchen of Leon’s sizable flat in Wyndon, surrounded by the physical embodiment of the most ridiculous parts of that second group chat.

Raihan had suggested the party-but-not a few weeks back, and after a fair bit of negotiating schedules, it had been decided that tonight was the best night to do it, so here they all were. Gloria was glad for the reprieve from her neverending Champion duties, and she’d been absolutely over the moon to see Hop again after what seemed like forever.

And now here she was, knocking elbows with her rival-slash-best friend as they and a bunch of their partially tipsy adult friends battled it out in what had been dubbed the Curry Cup by whoever had suggested the stupid idea in the first place. Probably Raihan.

“Two minutes left!” Slurred Sonia from across the bench. She was just about completely relying on Nessa to stay on her feet at this point, yet somehow still had it in her to decide how much longer those of them competing could cook for. Coming to these gatherings had certainly been an eye-opening experience for Gloria, seeing so many of the most well-known figures in Galar coming together and getting completely sauced for the hell of it.

“You said ten minutes literally thirty seconds ago!” Hop whined, haphazardly throwing in some extra ingredients to finish off his curry when Sonia simply waved him off. Gloria wondered how much of Sonia’s hangover her friend would have to deal with at the lab in the morning, or if the young professor simply wouldn’t show up at all.

It certainly wasn’t two minutes before all of the participants were ushered away from their curries, but Hop still seemed quite confident with his final product. Gloria couldn’t say the same for her own, especially being so used to taking her time with cooking when she camped out with her Pokemon. Not that she had much time to do that anymore, really.

“Sorry to say, but I’m definitely crushing you in this competition, mate, I can just feel it!” Hop said as he slung a friendly arm around Gloria’s shoulders, watching intently as Sonia, Nessa, and Bea walked along the row of curries on the bench to judge them all. Gloria tried to ignore how warm her face was suddenly feeling, but the look she got from Piers told her she wasn’t doing a great job at hiding it.

Damn her own big mouth for blabbing to him about her crush on Hop, the one time she couldn’t sleep and happened to be awake at three in the morning, with Piers being the only one she could think to message at that hour. It had been a good conversation, actually, but still.

Every time she’d seen him since then, it seemed like he was teasing her about Hop. Even directly in front of Hop. It was constant, but Piers claimed it was because Marnie didn’t get crushes on people, so he was using her as a stand-in when it came to teasing about that kind of thing.

Ignoring the ex-gym leader’s very obvious silent mocking, Gloria turned her attention back to Hop and lightly elbowed him in the side before wrapping her own arm around him in return. “As if,” She laughed, “Who’s the undefeated champion in this room? I’ve got this in the bag.”

As it turned out, neither of them were destined to be crowned the Curry Cup Champion, and the competition ultimately went to Leon. Hop decided that it was all rigged because the judges weren’t sober, and had wandered back into the living room with a dramatic huff as most of the other guests went to congratulate his brother.

Piers seemed to take the opportunity to suddenly appear next to Gloria with a ridiculously smug look on his face. “Seems you’re ‘aving fun. Said anything to ‘im yet?”

She folded her arms and pouted crossly. “No. Cannae say anythin’ with you nearby anyway, you’re such a pest.”

Piers scoffed. “Please. I’m doing the both of you a favour, bruv, since ‘e won’t say it and neither will you. The two’ve you are gonna go crazy if this keeps up. I’m gonna go crazy if I ‘ave to watch you idiots keep dancin’ around each other for the rest of time!”

“Shut up, he’s obviously not got anythin’ to say on the topic. Do ye know how much he talks? Surely he’d have said something by now if there was somethin’ to say.”

“Do you ‘ave any idea how much he talks to me? ‘E always messages me at times kids your age shouldn’t be up, sayin’ how he doesn’t want to bother you but can’t sleep and keeps thinkin’ about you so ‘e decided to message me and blah blah blah. Please just tell ‘im so that he actually messages you when he’s thinkin’ about you, there’s only so much more of his sappy shit I can take.” Piers practically begged, seeming like he was mere seconds away from pulling out his phone to show her the evidence. Gloria didn’t doubt that Hop had messaged him plenty, but she still wasn’t convinced that he reciprocated her feelings, even though she knew she had no reason not to believe Piers.

Still, she pulled up the collar of her cardigan to try and hide the bright blush on her face at the thought of Hop being all sappy about her. The question still remained, though, “Why doesn’t he just tell me that himself? Not like he hasn’t messaged me at four AM before sayin’ he misses me or whatever. Gotta say I’ve done the same, prob’ly more sappy than him too.”

Piers gave a dramatic sigh and turned back towards the kitchen. “I need another drink. You’re ‘opeless, the both of you.”

Gloria let out a huff of her own, but decided now would be a good time to retreat after her rival, hoping that maybe now they could actually catch up a bit more now that she’d gotten Piers off her back and everyone else was still preoccupied in the kitchen. Only, she got to the living room and found Marnie and Bede, with no Hop in sight. The other two weren’t sure where he’d gone, only giving a vague direction to “outside.”

With that clue in mind, Gloria headed for the balcony, recalling how Hop had mentioned once that he liked to stand out there and see if he could spot Postwick in the distance, past all of Wyndon’s bright lights and vast expanse of the Wild Area even further past that. It seemed like a good place to start.

True to her assumption, Hop was leaning against the railing and squinting out into the night, so she casually sidled up next to him and prodded his shoulder. “Thinkin’ about something, Hopscotch?” She questioned, a gentle teasing note in her voice.

Hop shrugged. “Nothing to worry about, mate. Just the usual.” His tone was flatter than Gloria had been expecting, so she raised an unconvinced eyebrow at him despite the fact that he wasn’t looking at her yet.

“The good usual or the anxiety usual?” The teasing was gone now, replaced with concern as she let her hand rest on Hop’s shoulder. Many late-night phone calls over the past year had made Gloria well aware of the fact that her best friend still suffered greatly from the many untruths and insecurities that his mind threw at him, even though he seemed to be doing better than he ever had before on the outside, and it was always heartbreaking to watch when he got like this.

“Stop calling me out like that.” Hop joked halfheartedly, his weak smile quickly falling back into a frown, “But really, don’t worry. Just me getting all upset over something stupid again, which is the usual.”

Gloria squeezed his shoulder. “I’ll bet my hat it’s not stupid. Is it the competition?”

He nodded sheepishly following a moment of silence, as if he knew he wasn’t getting out of this now. “It is stupid. Who gets worked up about losing some stupid curry contest that Raihan came up with anyway? It was supposed to just be some fun thing and I ruined it for myself by...by doing what I always bloody do, you know? Losing, and then getting upset about losing, and then getting upset because I know I’m never going to be number one at anything, and then beating myself up for being so stupid, and--”

“Hey.” Gloria interjected, “You’re not stupid, you hear me? Losing doesn’t make ye stupid. Being upset about things doesn’t make you stupid, and your brain lying to you about your worth doesn’t make ye stupid. You are not stupid, alright? You’re strong.” She encouraged, shifting to settle her arm properly across Hop’s shoulders and pull him closer to her side. Their height difference was making it a little harder now that he’d suddenly sprouted almost half a head taller than her since the last time they’d seen each other, but Gloria didn’t care.

Hop didn’t say anything, but leaned into her a little more, so she continued. “You wanna know a secret? You’re my number one. Always have been. So don’t go sayin’ you’re not the best at anything, because you’re the best to me.”

There was nothing but the sound of Wyndon's bustling streets below for a long moment, but suddenly Gloria was being pulled into a tight hug, with Hop's head resting atop hers. "Thanks. Really." He breathed into her hair, "For the record, you're my number one, too. Undefeated champ or not." The soft laugh he let out that time was genuine, and Gloria couldn't help the smile that came to her face in response. Never would there be another sound as sweet as Hop's laughter, she thought. 

When she finally leaned back just enough to look at Hop properly, Gloria had to take a breath to compose herself, suddenly noticing the lack of space between their faces. She hadn't intended on that happening, so she tried to ignore it, like she always tried to ignore her feelings for him. "Say, I was thinkin' about going camping in the Wild Area tonight, wanna tag along? We could make some curry together with our Pokemon, no competition allowed." That wasn't exactly the usual way one went about ignoring their feelings, but at this point she figured it didn't matter. How many times had they camped out together anyway? No big deal.

Hop beamed. "Sounds brilliant! Shall we go now?"

Gloria laughed, but was already reaching into her bag to find Flygon’s pokeball. Since becoming Champion she’d realised she needed to be extra careful about keeping her Pokemon as close to her as possible, especially given that she now had Zamazenta as a trusted member of her team. She didn’t want anything to happen to any of her dear Pokemon friends, which was why these days she always kept her bag on her, or at least within arm’s reach no matter where she was. Just in case.

Flygon let out a happy trill as it burst from its pokeball, setting down expectantly on the balcony behind Hop and Gloria as if it already knew their plan. The two young trainers quickly climbed aboard the eager Pokemon's back, and Gloria's heart began to race when Hop settled in behind her and curled his arms around her waist. We're about to take off, you daft bastard, of course he's gotta hold onto something, she reminded herself. 

“Alright, Flygon, let’s get goin’. To the Wild Area!” Gloria announced. The Pokemon didn’t hesitate to take to the sky once again, both of its passengers whooping with delight once the initial jolts and jerks had passed. Maybe a Flying Taxi would’ve been a smoother ride, but there was something so much better about trusting your own Pokemon enough to transport you safely to where you wanted to go, and it was certainly cheaper than paying to get all the way to the Motostoke side of the Wild Area from Wyndon in a Flying Taxi.

It had already been reasonably dark when they’d left Wyndon, being a little while after dinner time by then, but by the time they made it to North Lake Miloch it was well and truly night time outside. Gloria had actually started to doze off at some point when there had been a pause in conversation, and she awoke with a start as Flygon landed back on the ground. Thank goodness for Hop being able to direct Flygon as effectively as she could herself.

Still, the heat rushed back to her cheeks when she realised that she’d been leaning almost entirely back into Hop’s chest as she’d fallen asleep, but by that point she could only hope that he hadn’t taken too much notice of it. They’d fallen asleep on each other plenty of times, anyway, why should it matter now? Catching feelings was annoying.

If Hop had thought anything of it, he didn’t mention it, and the two of them went about setting up camp with as much friendly banter as usual. Gloria had a handful of berries and half a bag of mushrooms in her supplies, while Hop had some other berries to contribute as well as a few potatoes. They figured it would all mix well enough together, so they let out all of their Pokemon and set to work.

“Maybe letting twelve Pokemon have free reign of the camp wasn’t the best idea.” Hop commented when Gloria’s Flareon came up for the third time to try and taste some of the curry before it was ready. 

“I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about,” The Champion said coyly, gently shooing away her meddlesome Pokemon, “They’re all such angels, they’re not doing anything wrong at all.”

Hop laughed. “You’re right, it’s just Flareon. And also our Dubwools chasing each other around everywhere. And Zacian and Zamazenta looking like they’re about to murder anyone that dares get too close to the camp.”

Gloria shrugged as she fished around for a few plates to get ready for serving up. “At least they’re looking out for us. I feel better having them ‘round, just in case.” 

“Fair call.”

Not long after that, the curry was served and most of the Pokemon had been settled down by the offer of some food. Hop and Gloria sat close together by the fire that Flareon and Hop’s Cinderace were keeping an eye on, and chatted idly about this and that, all sorts of things that they’d missed in each other’s lives since the last time they were able to meet up, or even have a long conversation on the phone. 

There were neverending topics to cover. Hop being able to do research on some of his own projects now, Gloria’s latest exhibition matches, silly things they’d caught their Pokemon doing...it always felt as though they’d never missed a beat when they saw each other, like no matter where they left off they could always pick it right back up again.

“You know,” Hop said after a while, once they’d both truly lost track of time and could only guess that it was some time in the middle of the night by now. Gloria was leaning against his shoulder, with his arm casually draped around her in return as they both lay up against their Dubwools. “I really wish we got to do this more. I mean I know we’re both really busy and all now, but…” He sheepishly glanced away, “I dunno. I just miss you, mate. A lot.”

Gloria gave a gentle smile and leaned into Hop a little more. “I know the feeling. Seems like we went from seeing each other every day when we were growin’ up, to once or twice a week during our Gym Challenge, to now...what, once a month if we’re lucky? It’s stupid, I just wanna see my best friend all the time.” She sighed.

How long would it be after this time that they’d be able to spend an extended period of time together like this again? Sure, Gloria had tomorrow as well, but after that she had to head to Kalos for Arceus knew how long for all manner of exhibition matches and photoshoots and advertising campaigns. It was unfair how little time she got to spend at home anymore, she still didn’t know how Leon managed to do it for ten years straight, and from an even younger age than her, for that matter! 

Hop’s next quiet comment cut her out of her spiralling thoughts. She could’ve sworn there was a slight blush tingeing his cheeks, but it could’ve just been the firelight. “Best friend, huh?”

She quirked up a brow in surprise and sat up slightly. “Aye? Always have been, always will be, you know that. Is...something wrong?” Surely this wasn’t going where her lovestruck teenage brain was hoping it would. There was no way Hop liked her like that as well. Piers could not be right about this whole thing.

The boy in question kept his gaze trained on his lap, but Gloria felt his fingers tapping a nervous pattern on her shoulder, where he still had his arm around her. “I, um.” Hop started, rather eloquently, “I...like you. As in, like like you. And I think I have for a really long time but I just never wanted to say anything because I figured you wouldn’t like me back since we were always just best friends, but...sorry. You don’t have to like me back, I just wanted to let you know. Just in case, I guess. I’m sorry. Shouldn’t have opened my big mouth.”

Gloria could’ve sworn her heart stopped in that moment. She felt like she was acting on autopilot when she reached over to grab Hop’s free hand, only hesitating for a fraction of a second before pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek as well. His skin was soft and warm under her lips, and she felt so giddy as she drew back to look at Hop’s adorably surprised expression, his wide golden eyes and slightly parted lips. An irrational part of her mind wanted to lean in and kiss him properly, but now certainly wasn’t the right time for that.

“Of course I like you back, Hopscotch. Honestly cannae believe you didn’t notice how unsubtle Piers was being about teasin’ me literally every single opportunity he got, he’s an idiot.” Gloria laughed, giving his hand a squeeze as he seemed to still be processing what had just happened.

Hop managed to sputter out a laugh of his own a second later, pulling Gloria closer to his side and planting a little kiss of his own to her head. “Are you kidding me? I thought Piers was teasing me about it constantly. I had a three AM crisis to him months ago about it, I can’t believe it.”

Gloria snorted in her laughter, causing a few of their nearby Pokemon to look at her with concern. “I did the exact same thing. Arceus above, I really thought he was havin’ a laff when he said you were messaging him about me!”

“Serious? With the way he said it I was sure he was kidding when he said you were doing the same thing as me! Maybe he was right, we really are dumb.”

Somehow they ended up in a bit of a tangle as they laughed, unapologetically clinging to each other now that they were both apparently on the same page with what it all meant. Maybe nothing had really changed that much with their admissions at all, maybe - much to both of their dismay - Piers had been right, and they’d just been subconsciously waiting for someone to say something this whole time. 

Either way, once they had finally composed themselves enough to focus, Gloria leaned in to press her cheek up against Hop’s. “So...Hop, my dearest best friend and favourite rival.” She teased, “You wanna...be my boyfriend as well?”

Hop grinned, his eyes crinkling up with glee. “Gloria, mate, my number one and favourite champ, obviously yes.”

Gloria beamed. “Great. Brilliant.” She whispered giddily.

The following morning, a photo of the two of them in close quarters surrounded by several of their Pokemon was sent to the group chat, accompanied by a short message.

Hippity Hop [7:48AM] :

sorry we disappeared last night lads, spontaneous camping trip! also we’re dating now. have a great day :)

Eat Sand [7:49AM] :

wait...you weren’t already dating???

bloody hell my life is a lie

leon why’ve you been lying to me

Champion Time Snr [7:53AM] :

this is news to me mate i thought they’d been dating since they started the gym challenge

Croon Toondra [7:54AM] :

WHAT?!?

....you’re havin a laff right

Eat Sand [7:54AM] :

no lee really said he thought hop was your boyf

Croon Toondra [7:55AM] :

canny believe ye lee

thought we were friends

Champion Time Snr [7:55AM] :

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Mermaid [7:58AM] :

honestly i agree w/ the boys i thought you were bf + gf for ages

sonia said you were

she can’t defend herself rn she’s still passed out hungover so

Big Tiddy Goth GF [8:00AM] :

bout time innit

felt like reality tv at this point

congrats tho took you ages

Flame Dad(dy) [8:03AM] :

Congratulations, although I have to say I was also under the impression you had been together since the Gym Challenge.

Wooloolooloo [8:04AM] :

Same here! You two are right cute though so congrats :)

Kung Fu Fighting [8:07AM] :

yeah rai told most of us that lee told him ages ago so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ good job anyway you cute

Rocky Horror [8:10AM] :

think we can all just agree someone was wrong and we’ll leave it there

that someone was lee but we’ll ignore that

reckon he’s just tryin to get us off his back about him and rai ;)

Champion Time Snr [8:11AM] :

thanks everyone appreciate it

also gordie please shut up

Hippity Hop [8:12AM] :

I forgive you lee!

at least for the sake of this group chat >:)

Big Tiddy Goth GF [8:14AM] :

get him hop it’ll be funny

lee watch out bruv

also you’re literally as bad as the kids with your feelings it’s disgusting

Baby Goth [8:15AM] :

Ignoring piers i’m happy for you two :D

Also thought it was a thing but that’s coz it just seemed like you were

No one actual said anythin to me

Croon Toondra [8:17AM] :

love ye all but i’m also fookin over ye dkjafhf

lee just go sulk and cuddle your boyf

Eat Sand [8:18AM] :

who’s lee’s boyf???? >:(

oh wait i see

fml

[hobbitsnapes]

The Red Hoods Protègè chapter 8

Older Damian Wayne x ofc

(Photo made by my lovely friend @bakketsux)

Summary:Red hood has taken a young vigilante under his wing and subsequently changes Damians life forever. (I suck at summary’s)

The sound of feet tapping and General noise from the kitchen woke her up from her slumber. She rubbed her eyes to rid them of the cloudy vision she had and sat her head up, listening to see if it was actually real and not just a dream. Once she heard more noise she realized it was actually real and sat up.

The touch of the plush rug she had just got 2 days prior a welcoming sensation in her bare feet. Due to the dropping temperature making the hard wood floors uncomfortable to walk on.

She sat up fully and looked at the clock, the red numbers flashing 6:45 a.m. why would jason or Roy be out there making so much noise? Both men usually up at this time but are still so tired they hardly make noise.

She stood up and slipped on her slippers and a large robe and walked out the door, the sight in front of her making her double over in laughter

There stood Jason in an apron with flowers decorating it dancing and singing little bitty pretty one as he made pancakes.

When he hears her he spins around with a large smile on his face. He walks over to her and grabs her hands and starts to dance to the song with her, both laughing as if they lost their minds. “D-dad why, why are you doing this?” She says between laughter. “Does it matter?” Says Jason as he spins her around.

The pair dancing around the kitchen both now with spatulas in hand acting like they’re microphones.

They don’t even hear when Roy berguduantly walks into the kitchen. Only hearing him when he turns the music off.the two turn around and look at the large redhead with confusion. “It’s not even 8 in the morning. Why are you up dancing like a chicken with its head cut off.” the two look at one another and then to Roy.

Before he can move the two run and tackle him to the ground. A loud thud when they all hit as all three laugh in a pile on the floor.

As Damian walks to the same bench with Titus beside him he sees her standing with what looks to be a book bag on her arm. When he sees her funny a large smile stretches across his face at the small jump she does when she sees him.

She starts to run at him and he stretches his arms out to her but rather than running into his arms she crouches down to hug Titus. “Hii pretty boyy, oh I missed you so much.” She says in a baby voice to a very excited Titus who has now taken to liking her entire face. She laughs as Titus climbs on top of her and knocks her to the ground. But rather than pushing the large dog off she rubs behind his ears, the dog laying down on her as she does this.

She stands up and looks at Damian, with his usual clean shaven face and pushed back hair, but now wearing dark pants and a white long sleeve tucked into his pants.

He looks at her as she stands up, her short black hair having a soft wave to it, high waisted jeans with a slightly baggy white long sleeve cotton shirt tucked loosely into her jeans. Her electric blue eyes framed with just a simple mascara and what looks to be nothing else in her face.

Before Damian can say anything she reches up and takes him into a almost bone crushing hug. The action startling him until he snaps out of it and wraps his arms around her. Him having to slightly bend as she is significantly shorter than him. She rests her head on his shoulder and he does the same. She smells of a faint rose and vanilla sent. Probably a body wash rather than a perfume. Her breaths evening out the more he holds her. Neither wanting to let go until Titus nudges in between them.

They both laugh at the obviously jealous dog. They look into each other’s eyes and smile. “Never thought I’d see the day.” Confusion takes over her as he says this. “What do you mean?” “Never thought I’d see the day that you look even more stunning than usual.” A deep blush covers her face at his words. He chuckles at her as she dips her head down as she blushes.

The pair spend the rest of the day at the park, she had brought a bag full of fun toys for Titus to play with. The large dog never growing tired as they play fetch and run around the park until darkness falls over the city.

When they part ways they make a promise to get coffee the next morning. A large hug is shared as a goodbye as he watches her walk down her street back to her home.

And they continue this pattern for a few weeks, going to get coffee a few times a week in the morning at what is now their favorite cafè. It’s never crowded and it always smells of fresh baked goods as the two sit and catch up. They first started out by sitting across one another until one day Damian takes a seer beside her. Now the two sitting beside one another each time.

As the two get to know one another, they can feel the connection they share, as if it’s a small bubble that they are in. Their what once was a small look at one another can last for minutes. And during which Damian finds his arm wrapped around her.

Each time they part ways his heart pulls at the sight of her walking away. His heart beating fast each time she walks through the doors to him. He’s gotten her order memorized so much that when she gets there, he’s sat with her usual at their same spot.

All these times have been blissful, nobody coming up to them or any urgent phone calls. It’s as if everyone knew they were together and chose to not bother them.

That was until Damian and her decided to go to the park.

As the two walk towards the entrance of the park, a man runs up to them with a camera in his hands. “Hi there, I'm Mark and I work for the Gotham Gazette. And you’re Damian Wayne, the son of the billionaire Bruce Wayne. And you are? And where are you two going?” The man looks at her as she looks away from him to Damian, obviously very uncomfortable with the man asking who she is. “We’re going for a walk is all. And it’s none of your business to know who she is.” Damian says as he looks the man in the eye. His usually calm face now hard. His usual flirty and happy voice turned sting and annoyed. “Well I’m only asking what her name is.” Says the man now annoyed due to damians response. “Yes and I know why you’re asking for it. It’s not out of kindness but out of it’ll get you paid more to know who I’m with. And again, it’s none of your business.” As Damian says this he puts her slightly behind him, her arm wrapping around his as her head leans bows to the ground. “Is the reason you won’t tell me who she is is because you’re embarrassed to be seen with her?” The man says this with a smirk, thinking he’ll get a great story out of this. His smirk leaving his face at damians once annoyed face turned angry. “The actual reason I won’t is because you vulchers want to know every single detail about my family’s life. You want to know so you can snap a photo and write a poorly written story about her and have her face on front news so you get a few extra bucks. And for what you just insinuated about her and I due to you not getting your way I could make one phone call and have you fired. It’s not out of embarrassment. It’s out of respect for a human being not to be put out in front of everyone like a circus animal. Now, if I were you, I’d walk away with an apology to her and go find something else to exploit.” He stutters out an apology and briskly walks away with his head low. “You didn’t have to do that for me Damian.” “Yes I did, I didn’t like what he said about you and he had no right to even think it.” “Yes but there’s other ways to to go about it, you didn’t have to call him names or threaten to get him fired. A simple leave us be would have done the trick.” “I guess I’m just worried is all.” “Worried about what?” She tilts her head to the side as she asks this. “I’m worried about them getting to you. It’s been absolutely amazing these past few weeks just being with you, nobody asking questions or making assumptions or, anything. People make being famous this amazing thing when it’s not. It’s not all you can buy and parties and loved by everyone. It’s constantly checking to make sure you say and do the right thing, it’s worrying every time you’re out someone like him coming up to pry into your life, it’s always having eyes and expectations put on you. It’s fun when you’re a child. You think everyone loves you when in reality, you’re under a microscope.” “I have an idea!” Now Damian is the confused one. “What would that be?” “You said that people are always watching you right?” “Correct?” Now he’s even more confused. What could she be on about? “Then let’s have a day where you’re not Damian.” “I don’t think that’ll work.” “No im saying, get a disguise of some kind, get some clothes you never wear and some glasses and a hat.” “And how well do you think that’d work?” Damian asks, now amused at what she’s saying. “Well nobody’s deduced who Batman is and he only covers half his face.” This makes Damian laugh. “This is true, alright then. I’ll have to ask my friend for some of his clothes if we actually want this to work.” “Then let’s plan foorr, Saturday?” “Alright, I’ll text you the address of the place, I’ve been dying to take you there. And bundle up it’s quite chilly there.” “Alright, now let’s hurry up. I got bread to go train those ducks in the pond to do my dirty work.” A large laugh is heard from Damian at this.

As Jon takes the laundry to his room to fold he hears his phone ping. He goes and grabs it,thinking it’s a text from his mum asking to see if they ran out of milk. But what he sees is an unknown number with a single text. ‘I’m coming over.’ This frightens him as he doesn’t know who or how anyone would know not only his number but his address.

He doesn’t have time to get downstairs before a car pulls into the driveway. And out walks, Damian? What is he doing here? “Is your father or brother present?” “Um, no. Why are you here anyways.” “I’m in need of a favor.” This shocks Jon. What could Damian need that he doesn’t already have. “I have to borrow some of your clothing.” Now this shocks Jon further. “And why do you need my clothes?” “I have a date, and we decided that it’d be a good idea for me to be dressed in antire I don’t normally wear.” “So you and your girlfriend are dressing up in disguise so nobody will recognize you?” Jon says with a laugh as him and Damian go up into his room. “She’s not my girlfriend Kent.” “Yet.” This makes Damian blush and Jon laugh at his lack of response.

Jon searches through his closet until he finds clothes that would fit Damian, where Jon didn’t become as large as his father, he does stand a few inches taller than Damian. He gets out a few items that are typically too large on him and hands them to Damian. “These should do the truck. And good luck dames.” “Thanks, and so help me if you tell anyone about this I’ll shove a sword dipped in kryptonite so far up your ass it’ll end out your mouth.” “Secrets safe with me man.”

When she gets to the address of the place Damian texted her she looks around for Damian. A gasp leaving her when she finds him waiting at the door. “Oh my gosh you look so cute.” She says when she hugs him. He’s wearing light wash jeans, with a white t-shirt and a dark red flannel with a leather jacket over the top. His usually styled back hair flattened to his forehead due to the black beanie he’s wearing. His usually bright emerald green eyes covered by thick framed glasses. He looks nothing like the usually well dressed and confededemt man but looks like he walked out of a magazine nonetheless. “Yeah yeah yeah. You said to disguise myself so I did.” “Well I think you look very cute, you look cute in formal wear, casual wear, and a disguise.” “So you saying I look cute all the time?” Damian says with a smirk. “Yes, always.” “Well same goes for you.”

The two step inside and the coldness of the room truly sets in. She looks out and sees people out on a large ice rink, some are holding hands, others are skating fast around in what looks to be a race and others are falling flat in their ass.

They pay the man at the door and put on their skates. As she takes a step into the ice she feels her ankles shake and so she grabs onto the side of the rink. “Umm, did I mention I don’t know how to skate? Cause if I didn’t well I can’t skate.” This makes Damian laugh as he watches her grip for dear life to the side of the rink. Her knees bent as she tries to move but looks more like a baby deer. “Here, come and grab my hands.” Damian says as he places his hands over hers. She slowly grabs his hands but starts to shake as he takes her hands away from the walls and into his. “Do you trust me?” “Yes.” This makes Damian smile. “Then trust that I won’t let you fall. Now I need you to turn around okay?” “O-okay” as she turns around on shaky legs, she feels damians flush his body to her back and let’s go of her hands to wrap around her front mid section. She instantly relaxes into his hold as they slowly start to skate around. Her arms over his as they move along the ice. His head leans down close to hers, she can smell his cinnamon chapstick with his lips being so close to her. “See I promised I wouldn’t let you fall. When you’re with me, I don’t want you to worry, I won’t let anything bad hurt you.” “I know, I feel safe when I’m with you.” This makes damians heart beat faster. Never once has he felt the way he does for her and her saying that she feels safe with him, warms his heart beyond belief.

They skate around some more in silence for some time, just enjoying their time together. “See that guy right there? The one in the green jacket?” “Yes? What about him?” She asks Damian. “His feet are wobbling the faster he goes, in about five seconds he’s gonna fall on his ass.” And sure enough, in just a few seconds the man goes from looking confident with his skating to falling on the ice. This makes her throw her head back into Damian and laugh, her laugh shaking her chest and simultaneously making Damian chuckle at her. Her nose and cheeks flushed due to the cold temperature of the room and her smile wide across her face. “You look so beautiful when you laugh.” As he says this she blushes, but before she can lower her head like usual, he grabs her chin and plants a soft kiss to her temple. The action making her gasp and flush deeper. Damian chuckles at her shock and mentally pats himself on the back. He’s wanted to kiss her for the longest time, but opted out a kiss to her rosebud lips for her temple.

The two skate around until the rink closes, both again making plans for the following weekend to the same restaurant they had their first date. But where their usual goodbye hug is replaced with her giving him a soft kiss to his cheek. A shock going through him as her soft pillowy lips touch his face.

As the two wait for their dinner they chat about what happened throughout the week, even though each night they find themselves texting until they can’t keep their eyes open. “Yes I know trying to smuggle in a pot belly pig into a mansion isn’t my greatest idea, but I couldn’t help but take her home when I found her.” “Why don’t you just have a farm built to house all your animals dames? I bet that'd make your family happier than to walk in and see another animal running around?” There’s plenty of Rome’s I can put them. Besides, it’s always funny when one of them gets into drakes room and rips his pillows apart.” This makes her laugh. “You really can’t stand him can you?” “We're way better than when we were younger. But it’s still really funny when my animals mess with him.” She laughs as he says this, his obvious dislike for his older brother apparent.

The two sit and enjoy their meals, chatting until a song is played. She gasps and stands up, grabbing his hands in hers. “This is my favorite song, please dance with me?” “We're at a restaurant, people will think we’re mad.” Damian laughs “and this is Gotham, plus we’re away from anyone who can watch us. Please dames?” Damian gives in and holds her to him, one hand in hers and the other on her lower back as he gently sways her to the music. “What song is this?” “It’s by the singer birdy, it’s called wings. I’ve loved it for years.”

The two sway to the song until the chorus comes on, she starts to lip sync to the song and this makes Damian chuckle. Her arms above him as they sway faster to the beet. The two sway to the song wrapped in one another’s arms until the end of the song.

As the two head out the door, hands locked together they spot a group of people, all with cameras watching them and are walking towards the pair. Damian tenses up as he sees them, knowing that they’ll bombard them both with flashes and questions. They both turn to one another and before he can say anything she takes a firm hold of his hand. “I know what to do.” “What’s that?” “RUN!” She yells, Damian barely hearing her before they start taking off down the street. They laugh as they pick up their speed, now at a full sprint. They see a bench in their way and both jump over it, they duck under some hanging plants in the way as they take off. They keep running even when they cross the street. They yell and laugh as they run, probably looking as if they’ve lost their minds. But neither caring at all at the moment.

They finally stop when they find themselves at the park, now vacant of anyone due to the late hour. They stand there as they catch their breath. Both laughing still. “I can’t believe we just did that!” Damian yells, “did you-did you see their face!” “No I was trying to run!” This made both have another fit of laughter. Blood still coursing through them and excitement still preset. They laugh some more, until they both look at one another. His hair no longer in a neat style, now messy with his face flushed and a large smile on his face. Her once neatly curled hair unruly and a mess with flushed cheeks.

They stop laughing as they lock eyes, their breathing slows to an almost stop. Before either can think they lean in at the same time. Lips crashing together as what could only be discribed as a pull so tight finally letting go. They both let out a sigh as their lips move in perfect harmony. His cinnamon chapstick blended with the tea he drank earlier making her yearn more for him. Her hands hold onto the sides of his face as his arms wrap around her, holding her tightly to him as all the emotions and want finally exploding between the two. They can feel the sheer passion and yearning between them as their lips move together. His hand going from her back to the back of her neck to hold her closer to him as their lips dance. Her hands going into his hair and lightly pulling the stands into her fingers to ground herself. A groan leaving him at the action. Her hands travel from his hair to the front of his shirt, pulling at the material. They break apart as they giggle, Damian unbuttoning his shirt as they smile into the kiss. Once damians gotten his shirt off he takes her jacket off of her, the cold air sending a shiver up her spine and a gasp to leave her lips. He wraps his arms back around her the warmth surrounding her as his lips cover hers like a plush blanket, his arms enveloping her as his hands hold her as if he was pouring out every emotion he can through them. His hair softer than she could imagine as she held it between her fingers. He lays her down on the damp grass, what would usually be prickly to her skin is a comfortable tickle that intensifies her nerves as shocks fill both of them. She removes her hands from his hair and run them down his neck to his shoulders, she runs the pads of her fingers across his body as a shudder comes from him at the contact. He grabs a hold of her thigh with his hand and grips it, the action causing her to moan into his mouth. His grip on her tighter due to the sound. Her lips remove from his as they kiss at his exposed neck, a moan mixed with a stutter leaves him as her soft warm lips wrap around his pulse point. The pleasure causing him to shake. He lets out small moans as her tongue runs around his neck as pleasure shocks through him. He can’t take it anymore and pulls her mouth back to his, their tongues meeting as they deepen the kiss. They lay there tangled in each other, the darkness around them and the chill air a distant memory to them.

They lay there facing one another, his arm under both their heads as the other wraps around her, pulling her to him. Her fingers running softly arose the side of his face and neck. As both lay there, so close their breaths melding into one, they share another small kiss, lips barely touching as they do. As Damien looks at her he smiles, a large lovesick smile covers his face as he looks at her. Her hair now even more of a mess, flushed cheeks and her usual soft lips taking on the color of a deep red rose. “What are you doing to me?” Damian whispers, it’s as if he takes any louder he’ll disrupt the calm atmosphere around them. “And what are you doing to me?” “I know what I’m doing.” Damian whispers to her, his lips ghosting over hers. “I’m falling for you.” Their lips meet again, basking in one another as they lay under the stars, neither being a billionaire son or masked vigilantes, they’re just themselves in that moment.

Tags: @comic-nerd-dc @psychovigilantewrites