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anthonysstupiddailyblog · 2 years

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Anthony’s Stupid Daily Blog (148): Tue 9th Aug 2022

Off to my third ever Edinburgh Fringe this morning. Last year was okay but there were still a few Covid restrictions that made you aware that this was a muzzled version of the Edinburgh Fringe but this year there were no restrictions at all. Not long after I got off the train it was time to head into the city centre for my first show of the Fringe: Helter Skelter, a dark play about the early days of the Manson family. I learned on Twitter from someone who posts “On this day” Tweets that it was the anniversary of the murders today which lent this viewing an added sense of macabre. The cast were really good and one of my favourite exchanges was Manson explaining to his followers about how dogs don't have deep thoughts and aren't analytical and if they somehow became able to think more selfishly like humans do eventually they would long for the days where they were stupid. I posted a nice review on Twitter of the show which the company retweeted and thanked me for. As I was walking towards the park some guy gave me a free ticket to a play about Chekhov which I took but had absolutely no intention of going to. I love getting peoples hopes up only to crush them. No but seriously I would have gone had my schedule not been full. I think what I might do is just post a nice review of every show I get handed a ticket or flier for even if I don't go because any amount of praise the artists get can edge them closer to being able to come back next year. I went to a nearby cafe for lunch and had a nice jacket potato with hummus and coleslaw and spent half an hour people watching in the glorious sunshine. I had a bit of time to kill before my next show so decided to take an open topped bus tour of the city and was sat in front of two girls from Manchester who kept me entertained throughout the journey just from the stupid amount of stupid shit they said to each other. Here are some highlights:

"It's so hot I might literally take my cardigan off" (As opposed to metaphorically taking one's cardigan off?)

How did they build the pyramids? Did they have cranes back them?

Remember when you didn’t like the smell of that yoghurt so you sprayed some perfume on it? I dare say these two probably could have made a killing at the Edinburgh Fringe if they only realized how funny they were. I decided not to go and see the next two shows on my list "Death of a Disco Dancer" and the "Straight Jacket Escape show" as I was enjoying the sunshine too much so I decided to just chill until the next show. I spent much of the rest of the afternoon walking through the city, taking in the sights and generally just relaxing. Over the course of the day I saw quite a few comedians: tight at the start of my bus tour I saw Omid Djalili and Bobby Mair. Then as I was coming out of the hostel Arthur Smith walked past me, later as I was leaving a Tesco Richard Herring walked past and on my way towards my second show I walked past Tony Law. I haven't seen that many famous people in person so seeing five of them in one day was quite surreal. Next up I went to see "Laurel and Chaplin: Before They Were Famous". It's the story of how Stan Laurel and Charlie Chaplin worked together in their early years and eventually drifted apart after Chaplin became a megastar. This was a really funny and surprisingly short play with a really good cast (although the actor playing Stan Laurel had multiple tattoos which was a bit distracting). The middle of the show featured some audience participation which I always dread when I go to shows as I'm worried they're going to pick me. Luckily they didn't as they ended up picking a really gorgeous looking woman, a fat guy and an old guy who kept making mistakes and fucking up the flow of the sequence he was acting out but in a funny way that didn't spoil the play. According to this play Laurel and Chaplin were supposed to be on the Titanic when they got hired to go work in America but their manager Fred Karno was too cheap to pay for tickets and sent them there on a shitty boat instead. I can't find any evidence of this on the internet that backs it up so it might be bullshit. This play was really funny but like a lot of Chaplin films was also very poignant, working in Chaplin's mother's struggle with mental illness for a very touching finale. After this show I only had twenty minutes to spare before the next show which was happening just across the road. What Broke David Lynch? which tells the story of all the behind the scenes antics that happened in the run-up to Lynch directing The Elephant Man. There was a bit of a production problem at the start as a light kept flickering but to be honest it was kind of appropriate since the same thing happens in Twin Peaks. The guy playing David Lynch was, well...fat, and it didn't look right, he also got a few of his lines wrong which got laughs from the audience but I don't think this was the reaction the director wanted from this show. The guy playing Mel Brooks was a dirty looking fucker who kept spraying tiny droplets of spit into the front row. Two fuckwit women walked into the room past the actors ten minutes after it had started which threw both me and the cast off. Then there was a musical number which went on for way too long. The only bit I liked was where Lynch was doing up John Hurt in the Elephant Man makeup and to be honest the rest of this play was a bit of a let down. Ah well, they can't all be winners. It was half 10 at this point and after walking around the Pleasance area for a bit I headed bac to the hostel. I wanted to get something to eat before bed but my phone was on one percent and by the time it was fully charged I was knackered so just went straight to sleep. Today was awesome. I think I definitely made a mistake in booking so many shows. Death of a Disco Dancer and the Straight Jacket Escape show sounded like they might have been interesting but to be honest when you go through the list of shows available there are ones that just jump out at you and those are the ones you should go to see which I think is what I will do during future Fringe visits.

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tarosin · 3 years

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the great adventures of y/n and ranboo

this is an extra part to the great adventures series

summary: part two to the angst imagine (the not so great adventures of y/n tommy tubbo jack and ranboo) it’s a happier ‘ending’ please read what is written in bold

this is an “alternative ending” around 15 years into the future this doesn’t mean this is actually how the series is going to end im writing it now and including it as part of series as their friendship is already established i can confirm y/n and the group are going to have a happy ending when the series eventually comes to an end this also does not mean the series is anywhere near the end i plan on continuing the series as vlogs come out, i feel the need to confirm this now love between y/n and ranboo in this imagine is completely platonic

it had been about a month since you last streamed whereas ranboo continued to stream a few days after the fallout as he wanted to make sure you were going to be okay. even though ranboo knew this huge fallout would eventually happen, it still hurt him, especially since he knew there was no way to prevent it, the four of you in the same house mixed with the stress of being some of the most-watched content creators made living rather difficult. it was like walking on eggshells as you didn’t want to interrupt someone's stream, then there was the additional stress of obsessive fans finding out where the four of you lived, you still remember that day very vividly. you were sat in between tubbo and ranboo watching the office whilst Tommy was in an interview when you received a message from your mod.

Chris: hey y/n I received this message earlier I don’t want to scare you, but maybe get the locks changed. someone sent a message claiming this is your address *image of message from ‘fan’*

it didn’t take long for tubbo and ranboo to receive a message from their mods saying the same thing

“holy shit...”

“chances are Tommy has the message too. we shall go check around the house when Tommy is done with the interview.”

luckily no one ever showed up to the house, but the fact some people were so obsessed to the point they found your address was enough to put everyone in the house on edge. and now it was just you and ranboo in the house. you didn’t feel safe as even though ranboo promised to not let anything happen, you didn’t wanna risk it.

“we should move. there’s no point in having such a big house for two people, what are we going to use the extra space for heh? hide and seek with people who have our address. no thank you. I say we move leave this mess behind and start completely over, hell I’d feel safer in the us and that’s saying something”

ranboo agreed the house didn’t have the happiest memories attached to it anymore, it hurt walking past the hallway as it would bring back the memory of him crying into the crook of y/ns neck whilst tubbo left the house.

“let’s do it, I’ll do an early stream then we can look for houses. go take a shower. I’ll stay close to the door so you’re safe, then you can stay in my room whilst I stream, you can join me if you would like.”

“you’re being very protective all of a sudden...let me guess you got the message from our mods announcing the obsessive fans are at it again?”

“go take a shower.”

“no.”

ranboo ended up picking you up, carried you to the bathroom and turned the shower on before putting you on your feet.

“quick shower I’ll see you later.”

and with that he left the room shutting the door behind him, 30 minutes later you got changed and followed ranboo to his room ready to join him whilst he streams

“hey boo, can I join you? I kinda wanna get into streaming again.”

“I'm so glad you asked, I was going to do a face cam stream, if that’s okay?”

“of course.”

you grabbed his mask and glasses whilst he locked the door so you were both safe. “here you go.”

“thank you.”

the pair of you started the stream and it was honestly going well, you were having so much fun you forgot about all the negative things currently going on, you began to understand why ranboo continued streaming as for those 2-4 hours of streaming it felt as though everything was back to normal. 3 hours later the two of you ended stream and Twitter went crazy. tweets ranged from fans talking about how ranboo was streaming with you, how Tommy was in chat, and how tubbo was modding as people who mentioned anything about their address being leaked were banned by tubbo. the one thing that caught ranboos eye was fan art and a picture of you both from the stream captioned ‘they’re platonic soulmates your honour’ ranboo went as far to like, retweet and comment on it.

ranaltboo: glad you liked the stream it was great having y/n back, think I might make them play tattletail next stream

definitelynoty/n: isn’t that the Furby game that terrified you in 2021? bring it on boo!

Twitter went crazy over this interaction, you had finally come back to social media after months of being inactive, and it looked like you were here to stay. a month later you and ranboo moved out of the house and sold it to your aunt and her wife and their three adopted children, you explained the situation and even changed the locks for them all before they moved in.

“Please do tell us if anyone shows up who shouldn’t be. we changed the locks as you were aware- oh hello little one.”

you noticed one of their children decided to cling onto your leg

“I like your hair it’s colourful!”

“Indeed it is.”

“WOAH A GIANT!”

the little girl let go of your leg and ran to ranboo asking to be picked up, unsure of what to do he looked towards you. however, you were too busy laughing about the fact he was compared to a giant.

“I'm so sorry uh if you want to pick her up you can, you don’t have to.”

“pick me up, tall man... I want to be taller!”

ranboo ended up standing next to you with an arm around your waist whilst the child sat on his shoulders happily playing with his hair.

“ranboo do not drop that child.”

“I didn't- I didn't plan on it y/n.”

eventually, it was time to leave and the child reluctantly let go of ranboo.

“bye-bye!! hope to see you soon!”

soon enough you were at a smaller house, far away from the old house, leaving behind the negative feelings. it could only get better, a week later the pair of you had settled into the new house, it finally felt like home. you and ranboo were now streaming full time again, safe to say the two of you were thriving and closer than ever.

“so I’m thinking if I hit the sub-goal today I’ll let chat pick what colour I dye my hair.”

“make it higher, and I’ll let you cut my hair.”

“Are you being serious? oh my god!”

a few minutes later you took to Twitter to announce you were going live.

y/n: kidnapping children in the sims with ranboo psst check the subgoal.

within 20 minutes you had hit the sub-goal, chat ended up picking another random neon colour for your hair.

“right hair dye and the cutting stream will be this weekend, now let’s go back to kidnapping.”

tubbo, tommy, and jack felt awful for what happened and went back to the house where you used to live, hoping to see you there so they could apologise, tubbo knocked on the door only to be met by a young child.

“my sister watches you on twitch!”

“oh that’s lovely.. are y/n and ranboo here?”

an older woman came to the door.

“oh no, I’m sorry dear they both moved out, but they left this box and said to give it to you if you returned.”

“do you know where they moved to?”

“I'm sorry dear, I'm not allowed to tell you that information for safety reasons.”

“I understand, thanks anyway.”

they ended up going back to jacks where the three of them had been staying.

“We should open the box.”

tubbo opened the box and emptied the items onto the floor, inside was the rocks y/n handed tubbo from every trip, photos of the group, a necklace y/n had gifted to Tommy a day before the argument, and a hat y/n had taken from jack during a trip to a zoo.

“what the fuck!”

“holy shit!”

“they really kept all these in hopes we would come back?”

“and now we’re too late.”

it was now the weekend you and ranboo were ready to stream, you stood leaning on ranboo who was significantly smaller than you as you lowered the chair he sat on.

“starting stream...now.”

after the starting soon intro played, you explained what was happening to any new viewers or people who didn’t watch the stream.

“so I’m about to become Edward Scissorhands...I love that film can we watch it later?”

“yeah mhm sure!”

you didn’t know this but your ex best friends were watching and ever so often would show up in the chat.

“so boo, what are we doing with your hair today?”

“just a trim please darling?”

“This is y/ns hairdressers you get what I’m capable of!”

you ended up doing a pretty good job of cutting ranboos hair, even he was impressed.

“I didn’t doubt you for a minute!”

“mhm sure thing please don’t mess up my hair tall one!”

soon enough you had the dye on. 45 minutes later you left to wash it off, leaving ranboo to entertain stream,

“chat I think I missed some of their hair it’s okay, I own scissors, I’ll just cut it.. speaking of they did a great job, didn't they? I honestly expected them to mess up.”

a few minutes later you joined ranboo again and spent the next few hours talking with chat. tubbo, tommy, and jack stayed the entire time. they loved the fact you and ranboo were able to stay close after what happened, Tommy noticed you were still wearing the necklace he got you many years ago and spammed them chat with him tubbo and jack

Tommy: THEYRE WEARING THE NECKLACE!!

jack: so what? they clearly don’t wanna talk to us.

tubbo: shut up listen to them.

“chat why are we spamming platonic soulmates?”

“they’ve been saying it all over Twitter, look on trending y/n.”

you started to blush slightly at all the amazing artwork soon enough the stream came to an end, after saying goodbye the pair of you sat together going through fan art. unfortunately the one that caught your eye was this one twitter post where the artist had created a drawing of a piece of paper with you, ranboo, tommy, tubbo, and jack, however the paper was ripped separating you and ranboo from the others, captioned ‘it was never meant to be’ this clearly upset ranboo as he took off his mask and glasses placing them on the desk before going straight to his bed.

“boo…are you okay?”

“Are you tired of me? are you going to leave next?”

“what? no of course not! I could never get tired of you, why do you ask?”

“everyone else has left..i thought they cared about us, i knew it would happen eventually and i couldn’t stop it, i’m sorry, y/n, please don’t hate me.”

you sat on the edge of the bed looking down at the floor,

“come here.”

you watched him roll over to face you.

“you know there’s no one else who I'd rather spend the rest of my life with, right…if i hated you i wouldn’t have moved house with you. it’s not your job to fix everything and make everything better, you’re a streamer for christ sake not a therapist.”

“i guess so.. can we watch that thing you were on about for ages.”

“edward scissorhands? “

“mhm!”

you could tell he wanted to be distracted, so you agreed and put the film on, towards the end you began to get upset due to how overwhelming everything was.

“Why are you crying?”

“poor Edward.”

“come here.”

ranboo pulled you into a hug you laid there crying into his chest, he knew that wasn’t the reason you were crying, but he wasn’t about to make you tell him, luckily it didn’t take long for you to stop crying as ranboo quickly distracted you.

“ranboo..”

“yeah y/n?”

“I feel bad i didnt realise how much pressure was on you whilst everyone was arguing.”

“Hey, it’s okay, is that what’s upsetting you?”

“mhm.”

“don’t blame yourself, i’d do it all over again to keep you safe and happy..then again i didn’t do a good job on keeping you happy.”

“you did..you were always there for me even when i gave up on social media, you shared your room with me after i started receiving creepy messages from that obsessed fan, hell you even went on adventures with me even though it was clear you hadn’t been sleeping, just so we could spend time together and forget about what was happening. you mean a lot to me boo.”

“i love you.”

“i love you too bud, I’m tired.”

“go to sleep, it’s been a long day.”

“okay.”

“you just staying there?”

“yes.”

“oh, oh okay, goodnight.”

about a year later the two of you were still thriving, ranboo got you a promise ring a few months earlier.

“heh what’s this for?”

“as your best friend i promise to stay by your side and keep you safe and make sure that you’re happy, in other words you're stuck with me till the end of time.”

“boo…i really don’t know what to say.. thank you so much!”

“you don’t have to say anything!”

you ended up going out to buy him a promise ring when he started the stream and decided to take your cousins with you now that they were a little older. ranboo was doing a facecam stream when the door slammed open revealing you covering your three younger cousins ranboo not realising you were hiding them from the camera, instinctively stood up covering the camera

“ranboooooo!”

“yes you three and y/n ,what do you need?”

“we would like to watch a film!”

“Okay, i’ll go put one on, y/n will you entertain chat?”

“sure thing boo boy!”

once they left you sat fixing your hair forgetting you were wearing the ring chat noticed this and went crazy, so did Tommys group with tubbo and jack.

tubbo: that’s a ring, right??

jack: yeah looks like it.

Tommy: holy shit I always thought if anyone was gonna get married it would be tubbo and y/n, they were inseparable.

tubbo: hilarious.

jack: it could just be a ring, no one mentioned marriage tommy!

Tommy: we should congratulate them.

jack: at least let them explain fucking hell.

soon enough ranboo came back into the room,

“sorry one of them found it hilarious to steal my glasses...”

“they’re little shits i swear to god but i love them.”

you both noticed chat going crazy and both looked at each other before laughing.

“i'm sorry, i can’t take you serious in the mask and glasses!”

“i can’t take you serious with neon hair, but here we are!”

“rude!”

you and ranboo quickly put an end to the rumours,

“no we’re not engaged or married, it is a promise ring. no they’re not our children, they’re y/ns cousins they just spend a lot of time here..chat stop calling me and y/n parents and comparing us to phil that’s not..that’s not how it works okay!”

“parent arc!”

“y/n, don’t encourage them!”

“it’s a little bit funny!”

soon enough the bit came to an end and eventually ranboo ended the stream.

“hey boo look what i got you”

you handed him a little black box, inside was a ring similar to yours

“i promise to always stick around and be here for you”

“oh my god”

ranboo tackled you into a hug thanking you several times for his rings. you and ranboo were living your best life meanwhile jack, tommy, and tubbo were stuck dealing with the guilt of what happened, but they’re weren’t giving up that easy. they wanted you both back, that’s when you received a notification, tommyinnit has sent you a message request: hey y/n can we talk..please?

taglist

@dumb-chaotic-bi-energy @uselesssapphickitten @l0ver0fj0y @etheriaaly @xx-smiley-xx @hawarun @kylobensgirl @cawcaw-pretty-thing @reverse-iak @renleicrashed @augustine-is-joy @c1loudee

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loquaciousquark · 3 years

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Talks Machina Highlights - Critical Role C2E125 (Feb. 16, 2021)

Goooood evening good evening good evening, all! I hope you’re all staying warm and safe and dry in this chilly weather. Tonight’s guests: Travis Willingham and Laura Bailey.

We open tonight with Travis ribbing Brian for his continuous remodel of his office space. Laura demands a second introduction of herself as she wasn’t paying attention during the first one.

Travis: “You’ve gotta love Julianne Moore. She’s the only actress who can cry and show you all her teeth at the same time.” I was listening pretty closely when he said this and I’m still not sure it had any context.

Jester thinks there’s a strong possibility at least half the party will die against the Tombtakers. Fjord doesn’t think the odds are quite that high, but it will be dangerous. Laura points out that most of the M9 are also willing to sacrifice themselves for the rest of the party, so that changes their odds as well. Travis: “The game is not a stress reliever. It is not a stress reliever. I mean, it’s fun as shit, but it is stressful!”

Laura thinks Essek will give them a better chance. Travis: “A plus-one? A powerful plus-one, but a plus-one?” Did you see his reaction when we gave him the lowdown? Let’s be real: we kinda trust Essek. I got $50 that when we come back, he’s gone.” Laura is convinced he is trustworthy & wants to lighten his soul.

Jester spent so much time trying to bring out the Molly side of Lucien that to have him then betray them sucked. She knew that trying to bring the good out of everyone they met would eventually fail, but it stung that it was the most powerful one they encountered to first betray them.

She tries to talk about finger gestures during the answer as a reference to the HBO show “Raised by Wolves,” and Brian and Travis tell her to keep digging this hole she gets herself into about fingering. Travis: “Just get off the interstate at the next exit and turn right.” Laura, of course, immediately mimes turning a hard left, and they spent the next few minutes laughing at her inability to tell right from left and that even now she still has to hold up her hands to tell left from right.

Fjord is furious that they nicked the Bag of Holding. The loss of Vess DeRogna is bad enough, but he is genuinely IRL anxious about the loss of the Cloven Crystal. Laura points out that Fjord has also explicitly talked to Lucien about the deep sea creature patron he used to follow as well. He’s terrified one of Lucien’s scimitars is suddenly going to have a big eye sticking out of it. Laura suggests they’ll just succeed, bring back the city, and wake up Uk’otoa for the heck of it.

It was really rough to go from the Gelidon fight to the Tombtaker fight, especially since the first fight sent so well. Travis felt great that he initiated the dragon fight - he knew they had a far advantage in the numbers and felt that it was an open and shut case.

Laura does boggle that if Caleb hadn’t asked for that item from the Bag of Holding, they might have slept all night before realizing it was gone. They’re both relieved that they now know so much more about how the Tombtakers fight, especially the anti-magic cone. The most anxiety-ridden part was when they were trying to run and the TTs weren’t letting them. “You know when you don’t even have squares, when Matt’s black-tableclothing it, you’re in deep shit.” Laura had no spells left - she was so worried if she dropped the polymorph she would have had nothing left.

Travis: “Thanks for healing me, babe.” Laura: “You’re welcome, baby. It was ultimately a waste, though, because we took a rest immediately and you could just spend your hit dice.” Everyone laughs at Travis’s pain. She does say it was worth it in the moment since they didn’t know if they would be able to get away.

They joke that Laura’s just wearing the Fire Resist ring on a chain around her neck/Sprinkle is wearing it now to keep it safe since she’s not attuned to it anymore. It’s pretty hilarious!

Travis hoped that the TTs were originally actively looking for more acolytes rather than just having Caleb & Beau read the book. Otis needs to die. He’s relieved they have an idea of what all their blood rites do. Laura thought the time with them was fun, but it makes her retroactively wish that she’d dropped Zoran in the lava when they had the chance. Travis wishes they’d put a chime on the door of the tower.

Laura loved the tarot card reading, since Taliesin sent her really detailed breakdowns of the cards & gave her a real deck for Christmas. Taliesin told her she did a great job afterwards which she really appreciated, since she’s not sure what she’s doing. She does wish that she knew why Lucien seemed so nervous when she was talking about rebirth.

Cosplay of the Week! @clever_comics on twitter with a lovely Veth in her snowy lavender-colored outfit and pigtails.

Travis on confessing to Jester: “It FUCKING made me crazy!” He’s never been an instigator of campaign romances in the past, but because he loves Laura and was able to connect to her on that level he felt like it was a good challenge instead. He doesn’t think he could have done it with someone he wasn’t comfortable with. It was also important to him for it to be founded on real-game moments and after real-game time had passed, and he felt it was a very natural progression. Seeing the statues rip five years from her in such a benign situation made him realize that to let the opportunity pass wouldn’t have been worth it. He wishes he’d told Vandran what he meant to Fjord as well.

Laura loves that Fjord is becoming more confident as well. The post-Gelidon smooch took Laura completely by surprise since she’s finding Jester is a little surprisingly awkward with IRL affection, and she was surprised Fjord was the confident one there. “It’s so wonderful. It’s a matter of finding a way to get comfortable with it with her away from the Tombtakers.” Travis thought it was important to continue the “go for it” mantra. He notes that he’s pretty private about his personal life IRL, so it’s been a bit of a shift. It’s slower in a way - not a “you’re my one true love” kind of thing, more of a “let’s see where this goes and act on what you can” thing.

They were all “poopin’ in their pants” to get to go to Emon. The worst part was not getting to explore outside the tower since they had to leave again immediately. Kima is so cool, and Travis was actively trying to get Kima to come with them. Everyone boggles that they got to borrow Allura’s staff.

Laura only was thinking about the item-tuned-to-the-target-plane because she’d been texting with Liam trying to iron out their spell choices. She’s so relieved that they were able to get something tuned to the Sea from Allura.

For the most part, Laura knows what spells are the most useful for Jester, but every now and then she does get caught by major component requirements that she hadn’t noted. She wants to get another chalice for Hero’s Feast before they go into the Sea.

Dani points out that a lot of their allies right now are mages (no Kashaws, no Kimas, no Grogs) and they’re heading to a bad place for mages.

Travis has a sudden brain wave about all the TTs being from the Claret Order and wonders if they should investigate that before they pursue. I don’t even remember what that order is and I feel terrible!

Fanart of the Week! It’s a beautiful card by @crovyne on twitter of the Cree counterspell.

Laura really wants Brian to shave the sides of his hair and do Viking braids in the rest. I didn’t want to say anything out loud, but Brian’s hair is really looking pretty...pandemicky.

This is Dani’s four-year-anniversary of her start for Critical Role! Awww, Dani! You’re so short in real life.

Fjord is stoked that the Star Razor is a Vestige, and more now that he knows in-character what that means. It was great to see Allura react the way she did.

Jester doesn’t think they can really go to Nicodranas - they don’t have anymore time. Even more, Jester’s avoiding going home because she doesn’t want the Ruby to see that she got aged up/hurt on her travels.

Travis honestly assumes that the TTs are spying on them 100% of the time now.

Does Jester feel better now that the crest is away from Lucien? Yes, even though it’s gone off course. She thought dropping the crest where they were was a HORRIBLE idea and was appalled so many people were suggesting it. She saw the city with her own eyes, knows the danger of what’s coming, and if they had dropped it in flight she would have dropped with it and defended it as long as she could if that’s what would have kept them from getting it.

Travis thinks that if they can negotiate with Lucien, they should try. Everyone is super worried about Caleb’s and Beau’s new eyes and are fully anticipating they’re on a clock at this point. They wonder if it’ll drive up their exhaustion, allow Lucien to force them to fight against them, maybe make them willing slaves to the mysterious voice...they need to solve it sooner rather than later.

And that’s all for tonight! New episode this Thursday - usual time, usual place. Stay warm, friends, and is it Thursday yet?

#talks machina #talks machina spoilers #critical role #critical role spoilers #long post for ts

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tsukiihime · 3 years

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Heartbreak (Bakugo x Reader, Shinsou x Reader)

Hey everyone! This is my first BNHA piece, something I wrote when I was bored and thought what the hey, I’ll post it! Feedback is appreciated!

Word Count: 3.4k

Pairings: Bakugo x Reader, Shinsou x Reader

Warnings: Mentions of cyberbulling, swearing, breakup, angst, just kind of a sad piece overall?

Next Chapter

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When you started dating the Explosion Hero Dynamight, you knew that you were throwing yourself to the wolves. The media is cruel and the fans even crueller - if they deem you unworthy for their Hero then you’re in for a hell of a time - and not in a good way. But you loved Bakugo - you’ve loved him more than you’ve ever loved anyone, and for two years of your life you’ve been by his side as he climbs through the Hero charts.

But recently, the media has been sniffing a little too close to home. Someone has tipped the tabloids off to your existence and ravenous fans have been finding your social media day after day. Your selfies on Instagram are being bombarded with hateful comments on everything ranging from your weight to your skin color to your fashion sense, while your Twitter messages are flooded with paragraph after paragraph full of venom and vitriol. You can no longer take the headlines, the hate, the disgust being dished out at you day and day out. You beg your boyfriend to do something, anything to make the media leave you alone. Which brings you to tonight - in a heated argument with the Hero Dynamight.

“All I’m saying is that if you address the media, if you tell them that I’m your girlfriend, they might back off. I can’t do this anymore Katsuki, I can’t keep waking up and seeing this shit on my feed!” You’re so angry you’re shaking, and it’s pissing you off even more that Bakugo stares at you, unblinking and unfazed, arms crossed in indifference.

“You know I can’t do that. I do that, and my ratings plunge.” Your eyes widen in disbelief as soon as those words leave his mouth, you can’t believe he even said that.

“Are you serious Katsuki? Is beating Deku and becoming the number one hero really worth more to you than us? Than me?” Tears threatened to spill over at any moment, your fists clenching until your nails left tiny red crescents in your skin. You stared at vermilion eyes refusing to back down, waiting with trembling lips for his answer.

“You knew what you were getting into when you started dating me. I don’t know why you need so much fuckin’ reassurance that you’re different from all those other damn extras.” That sentence sends you from angry to fuckin’ pissed in less than a second.

You jab at his chest, practically screaming: “Excuse me? When we started dating, I was promised that you’d protect me from everything, including the media. Do you see the shit they say about me Katsuki? What they say about my body, my family, my upbringing? How they call me a slut and a whore because my Instagram has ‘Toshi on it and now I’ve been spotted with you? I can’t even visit my parents because I’m afraid they’ll follow me. I can’t go and see “Toshi because they’ll shit talk me even more! And you sit there and do nothing. Say nothing. All I want is for you to tell them the truth, that we are dating and that we are a couple.”

Now, it’s Bakugo’s turn to bite back. “And I’m sayin’ my hands are tied. They know I’m with someone, and I lose fans. Which means, I ain’t gonna beat that damn Deku at the rankings next month.”

“Fuck the rankings Bakugo! Can you get your head out of your ass for a second?! How in the world,” you turn to go to grab your phone, pulling up the latest headline about you on the tabloid’s website, “can you let them say this about me? Don’t you at least care that I’m being attacked on the daily?” Tears fall freely from your eyes now, and Bakugo flinches for a second, but only a second. You laugh in anger, turning away from him. “I already know the answer, Katsuki. You care more about the rankings than me. I’m in the way of your dream if you say I’m with you, so let me remove myself from the equation.” You grab a jacket, an umbrella and your phone, and put on your shoes. “It’s over Katsuki. I’m done. If you won’t say that we’re together, then we shouldn’t be together.”

You turn to leave, and a part of you hopes that he’ll follow - that he’ll grab you and hold you tight and tell you that he loves you, loves you more than the stupid rankings and that he’ll stand by you no matter what the media says.

But he doesn’t.

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You walk a couple of blocks to another apartment building, ring the doorbell and wait for the response to come from the other side. A deep voice responds, belonging to someone who had obviously been sleeping. “Who the hell is it?”

“‘Toshi, it’s me.”

“Why didn’t you tell me you were coming? It’s raining idiot, get in here.” The doors unlock and you make your way inside. You know this building like the back of your hand, it’s the home of your best friend and your second home. You make your way to his apartment and he’s waiting for you in the hallway - purple hair tousled and messy, body heavy with sleep and dark undereye circles accentuating violet eyes as he scratches the back of his neck. It’s a tic of his, one you know well - he’s nervous.

“A fight huh?”

“Worse. I broke it off.” Shinsou immediately tenses at the mention of this, and if you weren’t so pissed and hurt by Bakugo you would’ve laughed.

“Shit...I’m sorry. Come in, tell me all about it.” He steps aside and lets you into his apartment, closing the door as he prepares himself to listen to you complain until the sun rises. He agrees to help you get your things when you’re ready to return, and says you can crash at his place until you find somewhere else to stay.

You return two days later, punching in the code to the apartment you and Bakugo share - well, you supposed shared was the better word. It felt so foreign, being here after everything. Memories of the last two years flooded into your mind - lazy days where you spent all day with Katsuki on the couch doing nothing but watching horrible horror flicks and laughing the night away, those early mornings that had you waking up at five o’clock in the morning to cook pancakes while the sleepy blonde wraps his arms around your waist while teasing your culinary skills. Even the late nights when schoolwork kept you awake well into the twilight hours and your exhausted body dragged itself to the bed you and he shared, breathing in the caramel scent of the man you loved as your head hits the plush pillows and you drift off to sleep. But now, all of those memories have disappeared into the wind, replaced with the fight you and Bakugo had before you had stormed out of the house that night. He’s been texting you like mad, calling you like there is no tomorrow, but you ignore his calls. He never leaves a voicemail, so you don’t know what’s on his mind.

As the beige door swung open, you breathed a sigh of relief that Katsuki wasn’t home. You had neither the heart nor the energy to see him after all that had happened and instead resolved yourself to get all of your things before his shift ended at his agency. You spent the next hour rounding up everything you owned - books, pictures, everything that you had room to take and that you knew you wouldn’t miss if you left it behind. When you had a breather you sent a quick text to Shinsou to let him know you were almost ready to go - and took a deep breath as you entered your bedroom. No, your former bedroom now. “That’s all it is now.” you remind yourself.

You start dumping all your clothes into trash bags and gather up pictures and toiletries that belong to you as you clean up the bedroom from one end to the other. As you grab a pile and place it on the bed, an article of clothing falls that you don’t recognize. You bend over and pick it up to inspect it closer.

You know your clothes, all of them. But this lacy lingerie set that is discarded on the floor isn’t yours, hell, it isn’t even your size. Your throat feels like sandpaper and your nose crinkles as you drop the clothes as if burned by a flame. You can’t help but stare at it as a million things run through your mind at once: whose is it? How long has it been here? Was this before or after you and Katsuki broke up? Did he already move on? The last thought is something you know you shouldn’t dwell on, it isn’t your business what he does after you’re the one that ended the relationship. You know this and yet the tears come anyways, endless and stinging without end. Your legs give out and you fall to your knees clutching your heart as sobs fall from your lips, as your emotions bounce all over the place. The molten hot anger you felt at first is now transforming into deep sadness, all the bittersweet memories racing through your mind now replaced by images of Katsuki holding another woman, another lover just like he held you. You can’t stop as your brain formulates these what if situations - what if he was waiting for you to end it so he could be with her? You start to imagine him kissing another with the same passion he held for you. You see another in your place, eating the food that he insists on making to spoil you after a long night of homework, running their fingers through his hair as he falls asleep on their lap, and seeing another wrapped in his arms as they fall asleep together under the moonlit sky.

“I can’t stay here” you whisper to yourself, desperate to stop the tears that won’t end - desperate to feel anything but this pit of agony. You’ll take numbness over this endless heartbreak, this disappointment, this feeling of self-deprecation that tells you over and over that you weren’t good enough. “I-”

The door opens and you hear Shinsou’s voice behind you, calling your name and making his way through the hallway at the front of the apartment. “You didn’t answer my texts so I came up to check on you and-” The purple haired man freezes when he sees you, sitting on the floor with your head in your hands, sobbing uncontrollably as a waterfall of tears spill from your eyes dripping onto your fingers. You can no longer hold back your sobs as everything comes to a head - your insecurities, the hateful comments left on your social media, Katsuki’s own dismissal of your feelings as you two fought that night two days ago. Shinsou immediately drops to his knees in front of you, wrapping his arms around your frame and holding you close. “It’s okay...let it out.” You peer up at him from tear filled eyes, lunging at him to wrap your arms around his neck as you bury your face in his chest.

“Hitoshi…” is all you’re able to say before another sob wracks your body, tears staining your cheeks and dampening Shinsou’s hoodie. You try desperately to explain why you’re crying, and why you’re so upset but you can’t find the words as your tongue feels heavy like a bunch of bricks. Indigo eyes drift to the underwear discarded behind you, anger seething in his veins as he puts two and two together.

“Bakugo, you fucking tool.” He thinks to himself as he holds you, letting you cry out what you can’t tell him but he knows. He knows you better than anyone, just as you know him better than anyone. He remembers the vibrant little girl he met on the playground all those years ago, who spoke to him without a care even with his “villainous” quirk. He remembers your ecstatic scream as he calls you to let you know that he was able to get into the Hero Course at U.A, and he remembers you celebrating his acceptance at getting into a Hero Agency by getting blackout drunk and waking up with you in snuggled in his arms as you wear his favorite hoodie. He remembers being the one to introduce you to Bakugo at a Hero Ranking after party when you accompanied him as his plus one. He remembers how breathtaking you looked that night - an obsidian dress that hugged your figure closely, long legs accentuated by black stilettos and your plush lips painted in a ruby red hue. He remembers being the man of the hour, the hero Mindjack accompanied by a beauty on his arm, the envy of the venue. He remembers dancing with you, his most beloved childhood friend, his most precious person. He remembers watching you stride to the bar, smiling as you greet the bartender with glee and and he remembers watching you bump into Bakugo as you apologize quickly to the blonde before making your way back to him. He also remembers Bakugo following you to him, prompting him to introduce you to the man who would eventually become your boyfriend.

“If only you hadn’t bumped into him that night”, Shinsou thinks to himself, “Katsuki Bakugo, I’m going to give you a piece of my mind when I see you next.” How helpless he feels watching you cry as your heart shatters into a million pieces, how powerless he feels as he holds you tighter than he’s ever held anyone before. “C’mon, let’s get you home. I’ll take what I can and I’ll get the rest another day.” he smiles as he looks at you, giving you a small grin that he hopes makes you feel a bit better. “Don’t worry, I grabbed your Switch and your laptop, so the lazy girl hours can still happen” you punch him in the shoulder playfully as you wipe tears away on your sleeve, pouting as you roll your eyes at his lazy jokes before he continues, “and I’ll send Bakugo a text on what’s happening. You won’t have to deal with him. I promise.” It doesn’t escape his notice how you tense up when he says Bakugo, but the small smile you give at his joke makes him feel just a bit better. You stand up and press your lips to his forehead, tippy toeing to reach. “Thanks ‘Toshi. I really appreciate it, truly.”

“Anything for my Animal Crossing buddy.” You cross your arms and give him a questioning look, eliciting a chuckle from the taller male. “I’m jus’ kiddin’. You know I’d do anything for you. And your Switch.” You laugh as you turn to grab your boxes and make your way to the front of the apartment, the lingerie that had shattered your world moments ago momentarily forgotten in the corner of you and Bakugo’s bedroom. “It’s only Bakugo’s now” you remind yourself as you walk out into the living room, “this place belongs to Bakugo only.” You take one last look at your home for the last ten months, and quickly turn on your heels to make your way to the elevator with your entire life packed into a few boxes. A small sense of regret lingers in you, but you quickly shove that aside to stop yourself from crying some more. Shinsou grabs the rest of the boxes left on the table, and places your key to the apartment on the counter next to a picture frame with the glass faced down. He then turns and follows you out the door to his car.

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The next few nights are the hardest - Shinsou’s apartment only has one bedroom, one bathroom and the living room which means you’re on the couch until you find your own place. You’ve known Shinsou since childhood and you wouldn’t mind sharing a bed but you’re so distraught from your discovery in Bakugo’s room that you want to be alone to cry it out if you need to - you already feel like a burden to Shinsou despite his protests against the idea. He’s not home tonight - on patrol around the city as you sit in the living room wrapped in a blanket and wearing his favorite hoodie. You flip through the channels and stumble across the Hero Rankings red carpet. It’s been ages since Hitoshi attended one, becoming more of an “underground hero” and avoiding the spotlight if possible. In fact, the only time he attended one was with you around the time you met Bakugo. You cringe at the thought of him, trying quickly to remove him from your mind. The rational part of your mind wants to change the channel, to watch those documentaries you love so much and wait until Shinsou gets back home but you don’t. Instead, you decide to remain on this channel, watching as heroes come and go on the red carpet with their dates and hear the host gush about each one’s accomplishments. This is torture, you know Bakugo will appear since he’s the number four Hero, you know he’ll be there and yet like a train wreck, you can’t look away. Maybe you’re curious as to what he’s up to, or maybe you want to see if he looks as miserable as you know you do. In any case, you wait with baited breath to see a pair of scarlet eyes and ash blonde hair to satiate your curiosity. A flash of green catches your attention and you see Izuku Midoriya appear on screen in front of you. Deku is the number three Hero and on his arm is his girlfriend Uraraka, another Hero ranked at number seven. You’ve met the both of them at parties you attend with Bakugo - they both received a lot of hate from “fans'' when they announced they were dating, but the love they exuded for each other made the media change their tune really fast. They truly adored one another and didn’t care if their ratings took a dive. You had wished Bakugo would do that for you, but you weren’t a Hero and you didn’t have an impressive quirk, so his agency decided that it would be better for his ratings if he kept you a secret and he agreed. At first, you didn’t mind but the comments on social media and the tabloids made you feel as if he wasn’t yours at all - instead all you felt was that he was ashamed of you.

Then you see him. You grip the remote so hard it almost hurts, but you keep on looking anyway. There stands the number four Hero Katsuki Bakugo, wearing a red and black suit and looking as he always does - confident to the point of arrogance, a grumpy face that makes him unapproachable, arms crossed in annoyance. The cameras go off flash after flash, and the announcer goes over his stats - how many people he’s saved, his amount of solved cases, so on and so forth. You smile at his ranking, he’s gone from eleven to four in such a short amount of time, and you know he has his determination to thank for that. He works hard, that you can’t deny.

Then you see her. You recognize her, from the tabloids and the makeup commercials. The Illusion Hero, Maboromicamie. She’s tall, beautiful, and has a gorgeous figure as well as a comfy place ranked as the number ten Hero. Her arm is linked with Bakugo’s, and he has an arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her close for the photoshoot. The announcer raises their voice in excitement, as a headline appears on your TV: “Dynamight and Maboromicamie an item? Seen together getting close at the awards ceremony!”

You shut off the TV and close your eyes. What were you expecting? Why did you do that? You can’t help the tears that escape, but they do. There you sit, alone in the apartment with the image of those two stuck in your head, burned into your memory. When Shinsou gets home, he says nothing and you’re grateful for it - you know he’s seen the ceremony and he knows you well enough to know that you’ve seen it too. Instead, he showers, lays down next to you, and holds you close as you cry quietly into his arms.

#bnha #bnha x fem!reader #shinsou x reader #bakugo x reader #bnha x you #hitoshi shinso x y/n #katsuki bakugo x y/n #bnha angst #mha x reader #my writing

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sophiainspace · 3 years

Note

Mick & Zari 2.0 + social media

My Zari 2.0 voice seriously needs work, but I couldn’t resist a ficlet for this…

Someone bangs loudly on Zari’s door one evening. When she finally extracts herself from Catchat and opens it, she comes face to face with Mick. He’s managing to look even more sullen than usual. “The Rogues are on the internet,” he grumbles.

Zari blinks at him. “The who?”

“My old crew. I wanna know what they’re up to. Explain it to me.”

She tilts her head at him. “And what makes you think I won’t leave you in the dark out of respect for their privacy?”

Mick laughs. “Privacy? You? Nah. Anyway, it’s all public. It’s… whatsit. Social murderer.”

“Media,” Zari corrects patiently, because she knows Mick only does that as a defense mechanism, and she understands the need for shields and masks. “You seriously want to see what an old crew is doing? Why do you care?”

Shuffling from foot to foot, Mick shrugs. “They’re kinda like the Legends. You know - family. One of ‘em might as well be my baby sister. I helped raise her for long enough.” His gaze drops to the ground. “She put a thing on Twitter.”

Zari feels herself grin. “Oh! You want to spy on your little sibling using the considerable power of social networking. That, I can help with. Come in.”

Mick frowns as he follows Zari into her cabin. “I’m not good with the internet.”

“You write books, don’t you?” She opens her laptop. Probably better to start with a decent computer screen, than on a fiddly phone. She doesn’t even know if Mick knows how to use one of those.

“Yeah. On a typewriter.”

Zari sighs - she can already tell that this is going to be another evening like the torturous night she spent trying to explain TikTok to John - and opens Twitter, setting the temporal software to access the feed from September 2021. She pats the empty seat beside hers. Mick sits down at once, all awkward limbs in the small-ish chair, which is kind of adorable. “Okay. What’s her username?”

“Huh.” Mick stares up at the ceiling. “Gideon, what was the name on the thing she sent me?”

“Golden_Girl_85,” comes Gideon’s amused voice.

Zari pauses. She knows that username, a little too well. “Golden Glider is your surrogate baby sister?”

Mick sits forward in his seat. “Yeah. How d’you know her?”

Probably best not to tell Mick that Lisa Snart is quite the Twitter celebrity, in his time. Nor is Zari going to mention that she used to look up influencers through history for ideas, and ended up with a serious crush on the Golden Glider of the 2020s. “Oh, news compliations from your time, that kind of thing.” She fills out the search field, bringing up Lisa’s latest posts. “Is that the tweet she sent?”

Peering at the screen, Mick shrugs. “Couldn’t open it. Looks about right.”

Dressed in a gorgeous gold-studded leather jacket and perfect understated makeup, Lisa Snart is beaming at the camera, holding open a big duffel bag. If it were anyone else, Zari would be asking if those were real diamonds. She doesn’t bother. “She needs Instagram,” Zari murmurs appreciatively. “Or Catchat, but that won’t be a thing for a while, for her. Shame.” She catches Mick looking at her like he’s about to start glaring. “Well, that’s her account,” she says quickly. “I’d like to say it’s unwise of her to post stolen goods, but I have a feeling she knows how to cover her tracks.”

A rare smile breaks out on Mick’s face. It’s almost proud. “Damn right, she does.” He pokes the screen. “So I just go to Twitter and I can see her stuff, right there?”

“Yeah, if you can remember her username, but what you really need is to follow her.” Zari’s fingers fly across the keyboard, even as she’s internally bemoaning the lack of decent voice control. Ridiculous 2020s computers. “Let me set you up with an account. Hmm.” She smirks at Mick. “What do you want for a username? Firestarter_70?”

“I hate you for knowing when I was born,” he grumbles.

She pats his arm. “You couldn’t hate me if you tried, sweetie. And soon you’ll have just as much delicious free access to everyone else’s personal information.” She turns the screen so he can see his profile better. Well, he did turn up without his reading glasses. “There. One Twitter account, nice and anonymous. Now you can stalk as many of your old co-workers as you want.”

Mick narrows his eyes. “I want one of those little pictures.”

Zari manages not to smile. “A user icon? Sure. A photo, or something symbolic?” She doesn’t wait for an answer, scanning through search results for Heat Wave. She’s delighted to find a very artistic hand-painted image of the heat gun. She is not going to explain fan art to Mick. “There.”

Mick nods. “Ahhh. Good.”

“I’m glad you approve. And now I’ll just set you up to follow Golden Glider, and then we’re—”

“And the others.”

Zari sighs. “You want to follow the other - what did you call them - Rogues?”

Another firm nod. “That’s right.”

Her cursor hovers over the search field. “Got any usernames?”

Mick grunts. “One’s called Weather Wizard. And there’s Axel - can’t remember his code name. And Boo.”

Well, those are some ridiculous names. “You have a friend called Boo,” Zari echoes flatly.

“Ain’t her whole name. Peek-A-Boo.”

Any minute now, Zari is going to give up sighing, and take up growling like Mick. “Let’s see who Golden Glider is following.”

Mick’s eyes are wide at the screen. At least he’s entertained. “And then - what’s it called, the one Len liked. Facebook.”

Scrolling through Lisa’s following list, Zari gives Mick a defeated nod. “Fine. I can show you how Facebook works. Well, I can try. It’s a graveyard in my time.” She laughs. “It’s near enough a graveyard in your time, but I’ll give it a go.”

Mick nods in approval. “And what’s the one Rosa’s got… Instagram? She wouldn’t stop going on about it when I was in Central City last.”

Zari tries to imagine Mick Rory on Instagram. She has a hard-to-ignore fear that this is not going to go well. “Fine. If you promise not to post there.”

The put-out grunt is kind of cute. “Why can’t I post? Maybe I got pictures to show people.”

“Because you will offend the entire world, all at once,” Zari tells him absently. “Probably with something unhelpfully misogynistic, and not everyone knows you well enough to see the good heart under all that posturing. Do you know someone called Ragdoll?”

Mick yelps and covers his eyes. “No pictures of that clown!”

He doesn’t look much like a clown to Zari. More like a very skilled contortionist. Still, filing away the potentially useful knowledge that Mick isn’t keen on clowns, Zari keeps scrolling.

Two hours later, they’ve found all the various accounts of the Rogues, and Mick is using Facebook like he was born for it. Which, given his age, seems about right.

“Now TikTok,” he demands, bouncing in his seat. “The weasel told me he’s got a video there. If he gets a video, I want a video.”

Fascinated to have found out exactly where the limits of her patience are, Zari shows Mick out.

#headcanon ask game #mick rory #zari tarazi #gen #my fic #legends of tomorrow ficlet #none of us can queue this alone

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thoughts-on-bangtan · 3 years

Text

Memories of 2020 - Initial asks and a small discussion

*cracks knuckles* Here we go.

If any of you have spent any amount of time today on any ARMY sns platform, I’m sure you’ve seen the mess which, as seasoned ARMY, I can tell you was the exact same mess we see...every single time. I can’t particularly say I’m surprised by any of it, especially when watching the entire process, as in the first clips hitting the TL and then the rest slowly following suit like a flood building steadily as the hours went by.

From anon: be ready for insecure vminies 😂

I’m pleased to report it wasn’t actually as bad as I expected, though now that I’m typing this I probably jinxed my own luck and the flood of asks will come soon enough, but maybe not. I’m holding on to the latter.

Based on the cycle in which these things happen every time, as in that the first clips that hit the ARMY spaces are Xkook ones, followed by vmin and other ships, and lastly more OT7 content, I expected our asks to go haywire after that clip, you know which one I mean. But we’ve only gotten two (?) about it, kind of, so I guess most people understood that it was just for laughs and nothing serious that anyone would have to get insecure over.

From anon: Sigh. This is my first memories of bts as army and i'm already tired of how all of twitter seems to be about 1 j*/k*ok moment now. There were so many j*n/kook m*ments and hugs and a sweet h*pe/k*ok backhug moment and a good number of vmin moments including slow dancing so why is the focus always on that one ship?

Here’s the thing, maybe my TLs are just well curated, I don’t know, but on mine no one really focused on that moment? Even non-shipper OT7s just briefly had a chuckle and then moved along to other things, awww’ed at vmin moments, there was lots and lots of talk about J*nk*ok being super cute and there being so much content when it comes to their interactions, there was a lot of chatter about basically every duo and OT7 moment. I know ship specific spaces went nuts, Xkookers butting heads like their lives depend on it, but outside of them?

“All of twt” is an exaggeration and I know, believe me I do, that Xkookers have the ability to make it seem like everyone just cares about their moments because they themselves (the shippers) are loud and seemingly everywhere, but when you look past them, that isn’t the case. Shippers have a tendency to generalize, especially those who follow a lot of their fellow shippers, but when you step outside of shipper spaces, things look very differently.

Like anon said, though I’d like to preface this by saying that I haven’t seen the entirety of Memories of 2020 so I can only go by what I have seen though I’d say I’ve seen nearly everything that was posted on twt or at least as much as I could find (including Xkook things), there were a lot, and I mean a lot, of amazing moments between basically all the members, regardless of who your favorite duo might be, I’m sure there was something for you there. Even those who are supposedly a rarity. And even as vminnies, this time around we had a feast with so many amazing vmin moments, some funny ones, some random ones, some super cute ones, whatever you want, there is something there for you to find. And the same can be said about so many other duos, we even got Yoongi and Hobi FaceTiming each other, and Yoongi saying they look like a couple while looking at the pictures Hobi chose for the coffee truck he sent to Yoongi’s Daechwita MV filming set.

There’s one discussion I’d like to get out of the way below the cut, but after that I will have another post very, very soon in which I want us to just have some fun and look at vmin, namjin and the other moments because there is just so much to find. And this is just day one of people having the DVDs, these discussion will continue for a while because, like I mentioned before, Memories are a treasure trove for OT7 content and fun stuff, and there’s more than eleven hours worth of it to be watched, discovered and discussed.

But, okay, let’s get into that moment since anons wanted to talk about it and know my thoughts on it, so let’s do just that. And yes, other anon from a while ago, I remember you once mentioning how I shouldn’t talk about other ships and shouldn’t “debunk” them and their moments, though I’d hardly call this debunking, but as I said many times since our first post, I’m ARMY before I am a vminnie and namjinist, and our blog is called thoughts on Bangtan and, as far as I’m aware, both JK and Jimin are part of Bangtan, so I don’t see a reason why I can’t show my perspective on it and also voice my grievances with shippers when it comes to that moment. And, before anyone comes into our asks to yell at me for being toxic/problematic or only doing this to make my ship look better or whatever, no, that isn’t the point, like at all.

“Debunking” moments makes literally no difference whatsoever in the grand scheme of things and doesn’t affect reality, all I am doing is having a chat just like everyone else. I’m not even asking you to agree with me, you’re more than welcome not to, I can’t and won’t stop you. Also, just so you know, my initial reaction was just to laugh amused by it, no hard feelings, so I’m not the bad guy.

That being said...the Xkook moment.

Here’s the thing, when it first surfaced many hours ago, the moment itself was cut down to show just the moment of Jimin leaning close to JK and JK leaning back and turning his head away so his cheek faced Jimin...and cut, some even cutting off the video before JK turned his head. That’s it. People, as in shippers, freaked out, and everyone else had a good laugh and moved along to other things, even vminnies were joking about it and everything. I saw none of my fellow vminnies getting angry or insecure about it. Then, as time went by, someone else posted that scene but this time also showing the things leading up to it, so putting it into context instead of removing it. With the context suddenly the whole thing looked and felt completely differently since moments prior Jimin was pretending to stab JK with the pointy end of his mic and then acted as though to check if he was d*ad, as in the end of the scene. Turns out it was just for giggles and not some grand romantic moment in a room full of people and a camera close to their faces.

By that time, of course, those who cared most about that moment had long decided what meaning this holds and didn’t care once context was shown. Gifs and art had already been created, the yelling was loud, and the fights between Xkookers were reaching levels of toxicity I hadn’t seen in a while, which was disgusting and fucked up the say the least. But, the thing is, I don’t think the moment itself was the issue. In context and as rational ARMY you know it was just Jimin playing around with JK as they usually do, things we’ve also seen other members do in similar (though not quite like this) fashion, and after eight years since debut and nine of knowing each other, this isn’t shocking or new in any way. No, the issue were Xkookers and the way they treated this moment, some even going as far as taking screenshots and editing them to make it seem like they were about to kiss, as in they changed the placements of their heads to fit their narrative, as well as others making gifs where they play the moment backwards (leaving out the part where JK leans his head away and to the side) and thus they created their own version of the moment which was different from what had actually happened.

That is my biggest issue with this whole thing. The blatant manipulation of moments to create narratives that don’t match reality, twisting them and using them in stupid pointless fights. But imagine vminnies were to do any of that, all hell would break loose and we’d be attacked without mercy because how dare, and yet they don’t follow their own “logic” and “rules”. It’s more than okay to find any and all moments cute, we all do, to make jokes and whatnot, but twisting context, manipulating it and basically creating your own version of it goes too far.

Take what we are given as what it is, instead of what you want it to be.

So, now that that’s done, please fellow vminnies and ARMYs, don’t be insecure or let people ruin your mood and fun over it. It’s not worth it. Instead let’s check out and have a talk about some of the fun vmin and OT7 moments we got, along with other ones, including my reply to another anon when it comes to namjin. Of course what I will mention in the post (HERE) is basically just the tip of the iceberg since tumblr has a limit on pictures and everything, so just know there is so much more still left to see than just that.

Before I’ll go, for those who still feel a little insecure/doubtful/whatever else, while I was working on this post and the other one, another anon sent in this well timed vmin ask:

From anon: I have to say this as a Vmin supporter. Whatever is going on with Vmin we can rest assure what they is special/untouchable. They graduated HS & college together, going for Bachelors together. Jimin-ah I like you the most. I want to live with my lovely Taehyung for the rest if my life. Their future is together, friends/soulmates or more they said it. I won’t tear down other members closeness (good for them) their bonds don’t erase Vmins. I’m just happy with the moments Vmin allow us to see.

#answered ask

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waywardwrestlewritingwaif · 3 years

Text

Raise the Stakes, part 14

Aaaaaaannnnnnd we're done! I literally decided on this ending today and I'm posting it before I start to get THE DOUBTS. I hope you enjoy it and thank you so, so, so much to everyone who's liked/ commented/ messaged along the way.

There's mention in here of an interview that did actually happen a couple of days ago and what's included is pretty much what I've read online. That said, I've embellished some for the purpose of the story, so I'm not claiming to know anything.

Previous sections are on the Master List.

Pairing: David Finlay x OFC x Jay White

Word count: 2,767

Content advisory: other than the usual language, nothing really. Should I be cautioning people about angstiness? Because there's angst.

Thought you should see this.

The toneless message with its link is ruining your day. You can’t stop looking at it, but you don’t want to open the link again because you don’t want David to see it. Not that you have any reason to feel guilty. If anything, he’s the one who has some explaining to do but he also has the biggest match of his life tonight, the one where he can finally put the years of tension and rivalry with Jay behind him. You want to be supportive but you also want some answers.

It can wait, you tell yourself for the hundredth time. You’ll talk about it tomorrow. Or next week. All the time in the world. At least, that’s what you hope.

The whole day, the two of you are together but you have to keep a little bit of distance. Don’t want to get distracted and he has to conserve all the energy he can. Doesn’t stop you from touching each other, of course, but even when you do, it feels like you’re still at a distance. He’s trying not to think about anything except tonight. Or maybe it just looks that way. Maybe he’s thinking about his future beyond tonight, when he moves on. It would be nice to know if he wanted you to move on with him but he’s not letting you in on his plans. Hell, if it were up to him, you wouldn’t even know that there were plans.

You’d expected Jay to have some sort of mocking comments. How come the boyfriend you’re so in love with is giving interviews talking about signing with another company, moving to another state, changing everything about his life, and you don’t know anything about it? How Jay had looked at that interview and immediately known that you weren’t aware of it is beyond you. It’s unnerving sometimes, his ability to figure things out when it comes to you. You suppose it’s one of the reasons he’s always been able to get under your skin and make you do what he wants.

But aside from the initial message, he doesn’t say anything. You think that maybe it was a ploy to see if you’d confront David and start a fight before their match, because that’s exactly the kind of ugly trick Jay loves. When you arrive at the venue, though, you see him getting out of a car at the same time. He doesn’t look scornful, doesn’t shout something insulting, doesn’t strut like a damn peacock in mating season, nothing that you would normally expect from him. He looks straight at you and doesn’t smirk or sneer. On anyone other than Jay White, the look might be interpreted as concern.

Technically, you’re supposed to be there for all the performers but at this point, there’s very little left for you to do. It’s all on them now and if everything turns out to be a garbage fire, it won’t be because of any failings on your part. So you do your rounds to make sure everyone has what they need, knows their cues, gets any questions answered. But you always circle back to where David is and stay for as long as you can before your nerves get the better of you.

And then there’s the one person you should check on, but don’t. You aren’t completely derelict. You check with the people he has around him, you even lower yourself to telling Chris Bey that he can text you if his majesty needs anything. Strangely, you don’t hear anything. You text Jay once to say that you’re available to help. You keep it professional and don’t mention anything about the link he sent earlier, so you’re expecting him to needle you about it, or at least act like you’re useless because you aren’t spending your entire day catering to him. Nothing. You’re almost tempted to go check to make sure he’s not sick because one thing Jay White has never been is one to stay quiet when something is bothering him. Maybe he feels sorry for you, in which case you’d rather he yelled.

You enjoy as much of the show as you can but you spend the last minutes before his match with David, largely quiet, just holding each other’s hands. You walk as far as you can with him and, as his music hits, squeeze his hand extra tight. He turns and gives you a soft, quick kiss before leaning back and doing it again, deeper.

“I love you,” he says, cupping your face in his hand.

“I love you too.”

He sounds like he’s trying to convince himself of something. You sound like you’re calling after a train that’s already left the station.

Against your better judgment, you stay where you are. Jay arrives, already acting his part, hands tapping idly on the belt that, in theory, is the reason they’re fighting. You stare at him waiting for him to acknowledge you but there’s nothing. His music swells and he heads out like you’re not even there.

“Just like old times,” you mutter to yourself.

And still.

You watch from backstage as Jay holds his belt up, grinning and preening like he never had a moment’s doubt. You know him well enough to know that’s not true. He keeps cutting looks back at David as if he’s expecting to have to defend himself again, as if he doesn’t believe that he’s truly vanquished him.

The audience doesn’t share his insecurity, cheering him on like he was the hero and David the villain. He’s obnoxious and self-centred but they love him anyway. It makes you feel a little less stupid for the years you’d spent doing the same.

A couple of assistants help David backstage, holding ice to his neck and making sure he doesn’t collapse on the way to the locker room. He looks angry, sullen, and bitter, but not injured, which is a relief. You turn away from the scene in the ring and follow him back to his dressing room, taking over from the dojo students on ice duty when you get there. You don’t speak. You figure it’s better to let him decide when he’s ready.

You’d love to, of course, because despite the fact that you don’t want to make his night worse, it’s becoming unbearable to keep everything inside.

“Where does it hurt?” you ask quietly, picking up a new cold pack.

“Everywhere,” he mumbles.

You hold the ice against his lower back, remembering the awful hit he’d taken on the ring apron.

“You looked great out there.”

“Didn’t feel so great.” He gives you a little smile. “Onward and upward, right?”

“Or southward?” You don’t even mean to say it out loud because this is absolutely not the time to bring it up and certainly not in this passive aggressive way.

“Southward?” He raises his eyebrows like he doesn’t know what you’re talking about but you can see immediately that he does.

“Nothing, it’s ok.”

He sighs. “What’s southward?”

“Do you need another ice pack?”

“Uh oh, sounds like someone’s been reading the dirt sheets.”

“Just making a joke.” You wish you hadn’t brought this up because now you have to try to cram it back into its hiding space in your brain. And you have to suppress the fact that you’re actually kind of angry.

He watches you, trying to gage your state of mind. “Shouldn’t listen to idle gossip.”

That hits like a slap across the face.

“It’s not gossip, David. You did an interview with Wrestling Observer. If people are speculating or have questions, it’s because of what you said yourself.”

“It’s just talking. I didn’t confirm anything.”

He seems a little proud of this, like he’s very clever for getting people talking about what they don’t know. He doesn’t seem to have an issue with the fact that you’re one of those people.

“It’s all there, though,” you murmur. “Talking about how much you want to work in the States, that you want to try somewhere new, that you’re moving to Florida. You’re going to NXT, right?”

He shrugs and avoids your eyes.

“Were you ever going to tell me about any of this or did you figure I’d be able to piece together where you’d gone from news clippings and Reddit posts?”

“Of course I was going to talk to you. Nothing’s final yet.”

“So you were waiting until you bought a house in Florida and signed a contract with another company? Then what? You’d wake me up one morning and just say ‘bye babe, I’ll be living in another state from now on?’”

“The opportunity came up. This,” he gestures to the two of you, “is still really new. I didn’t want to introduce all these complications.”

“David, I’m not some girl you picked up in a bar. We’ve known each other for years. You’ve talked to me before about your contract renewals. Seems like you could have told me something.”

“I was going to tell you something. When I had a better idea of what I wanted to do.”

“You told a journalist, a ‘dirt sheet’ in your own words, that you’re in the process of moving to Florida. That seems like you have a pretty clear idea.”

“Ok, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for you to find out. You don’t even read that stuff normally.”

“You’re aware people are talking about this on social media, right?”

He grunts but doesn’t say anything more. It’s infuriating. He looks resentful that he has to explain himself, like he didn’t think this was going to be an issue for you. Finally, he meets your eyes, guilt very clearly evident now.

“I don’t know why I didn’t say anything. I’m an idiot, I could have figured out that you’d see something, or that someone would tell you.”

“It is my job to know stuff like this, all other considerations aside.”

“Believe me, I did not want you getting this from some random dweeb on Twitter.”

“I wish it had been a random dweeb on Twitter.”

He looks surprised and then it’s like part of him collapses when he realizes what you mean.

“Got up this morning to a one line text and a link to the article from our old pal. You know, making sure I’m not out of the loop.”

“Asshole.”

“In this case no. Somehow, you managed to cede the high moral ground to a man whose morals are generally nonexistent.”

“What do you want me to say?”

“Well, this is hardly the ideal moment to have this conversation, but I want to know if and how you see me fitting into this new life you’re going to have.”

He shrugs a little. “How do you want to fit in?”

The realization hits you hard. “You don’t think this is going to last, do you? You didn’t think I was serious.”

“Wanting is a lot easier than having.”

“Maybe for you.”

“No, that’s not what I meant, it’s just that I… You’re right. I didn’t think I needed to consider you. It wasn’t part of my decision-making process.”

“You’ve been setting this up for weeks. All this has come together at the same time you’ve been with me almost every day. If I wasn’t part of your process, that was the decision right there.”

The two of you stare each other down but there seems to be nothing left to say.

Eventually, you rise to your feet and stammer, “I’m just going to… I need to take a walk or something.”

You wander around the place, watching the crew rushing to pack up. Eventually, you find yourself outside, where the ring still stands, bathed in the glow of the safety lights. It seems forlorn in front of the empty seats but there is still a kind of magic about it. That’s what draws people to this business, you suppose, the feeling of magic.

Since no one else is around, you climb up and through the ropes, kicking off your shoes. You’ve been in one before, but always just to set it up or break it down. You’ve never had an in-ring moment. And there’s a reason for that, which is that you can barely wrestle your way out of your winter coat. But as long as you’re here and you need to do something to take your mind off the sensation that your chest is about to rip.

You run, or jog, from one side to the other, bouncing off the ropes as you do, the way you’ve watched dozens of men doing for years. Although you know the “ropes” are actually steel cables with a plastic coating and you’ve handled them before, it surprises you how much it hurts when you hit them too hard. It’s not the worst pain you have right now.

You pick up speed a little and then practice letting yourself “bump”, a fancy way of saying fall flat on your back. Each time, you knock the wind out of yourself a little but you get right back up and continue your running. Finally, you have enough momentum that you’re able to just roll yourself into a somersault, and sure, it’s not the most perfectly executed thing, but you keep your body straight and you pop right back up. Just like a pro.

“Ta-da!” you say to yourself.

That’s when the tears come. It’s not falling to pieces, but the stew of emotions inside you just starts to leak out. What the hell do you do now?

There are some footsteps behind you, echoing a little in the empty arena, and you see a man’s approaching shadow loom behind you, pushing his long hair back from his face as he crouches down. So you’re not startled when a thick pair of arms wraps around you and you feel his face pressed against your neck.

“Come home.”

You give an unhappy laugh. “Home is kind of a weird concept right now, Jay.”

“You’re always home for me. I guess I was hoping you felt the same way.”

You snap your head to look at him, pulling back enough so that you can focus on his eyes. In all the time you’ve known him, you don’t think he’s ever looked as calm as he does in this moment.

“Congratulations on your win.”

“Yeah, I get to be a target for a while longer.”

“Stop pretending you don’t love it.”

“Sure, I love it. It’s nice. There are other things I love more.” He runs his fingers over your cheeks, cleaning away the remains of your tears. “I’m sorry about sending you that story earlier.”

“All the shit you’ve pulled over the years and that’s the thing you apologize for?”

“Oh I meant I’m sorry that I had to be the one to send it. I don’t want you to shoot the messenger or anything.”

“If I haven’t shot you by now, I think you’re safe.”

He laughs and pulls you back against his chest, kissing down your cheek and neck. Then he stands, pulling you right up with him and letting his lips trail over the crown of your head.

“Come on.” he whispers, taking your hand.

“Wait, I need my shoes.”

You dart over to pick them up and he’s right there to help you into them and to lead you through the ropes and down the stairs. That’s when he plants his lips on yours, firmly, so that you can feel it in your knees.

“I need to go get my suitcase inside.”

“Do you always carry everything with you wherever you go?”

“I’m headed straight to the airport from here. Catching a red eye back.”

“Skip it. Leave tomorrow.”

“Just like that?”

“Sure. I have a really nice room.”

“I know you do, I booked it.”

“Always taking care of me, aren’t you?”

“Oh wow, he noticed.”

He kisses you again, a little longer, digging his fingers into your back, and your body melts against him of its own volition.

“I’m not coming back if everything is just going to go back to the way it was, Jay.”

“I didn’t come running after you because you’re good at managing my schedule.”

You give him a sceptical look but you can't entirely keep from smiling.

“Look at me,” he grins, “I’m a god. Any woman would want me and you have me. You should feel like you won the lottery.”

“Yeah,” you drawl, letting him wrap an arm around you as you walk away together, “I won.”

#jay white fanfic #jay white imagine #david finlay fanfic #david finlay imagine #njpw fanfic #njpw imagine #wrestling imagine #wayward wrestle writing

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sabitosthirst · 3 years

Text

Forever His- Part 6- Sabito x reader

This follows our reader (who is Giyuu’s younger sister) and Sabito as they get older. It starts off when they’re small kids, and goes from there.

SFW? PG14? What’s the middle ground?

Previously ⬇️

5.5 • 5 • 4.5 • 4 • 3.5 • 3 • 2 • 1

Reader = 18 • Sabito = 23

*@divvinefeminine on weheartit.com*

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

Perspective of (Y/N)

I’ve been visiting Sabito for the past 2 days in the infirmary. Our days are spent talking, playing small card games, laughing, and taking short walks together. No one bothers us, and by the time I leave I feel like I’m flying. Even the air between us is different, he seems so much more relaxed around me and honestly, this is all I could’ve asked for.

His farewell kisses on my hands leave me red and giddy. Not only that, but his silver tongue that always teased me but never had an effect on me now suddenly make me fall over in heat. I’m swarmed with so much butterflies in my stomach that I feel like I could faint. Nothing can bring me down

“Happy birthday, beautiful!”

“Sab! Good morning and thank you!” UHH! My heart! I’ve always wanted to be treated this way by him, and now that it’s happening I feel like his words aren’t real- but they are. He’s holding my hand. Talking about when we were younger while he runs his thumb over my knuckles. Uff, there goes the butterflies in my stomach again!

“So, I know it’s a shame that no one could make it today. But let’s be honest (y/n), I’m all you need.” Smooth as always. His eyes squint at me with his softening smile, threatening me to object his statement.

I scoot in closer to his right side where is remaining ear resides. “Weeellll, it’s to be expected. The life we live isn’t for the faint of heart. And you’re right, at least you’re here. I can bake for us and whoever else is here some sweets and that-“ his left hand reaches around and cups my cheek. His sudden affection holds me in place while his thumb stretches to my bottom lip. Caressing the plump skin and following the movements with his eyes that are so focused on my mouth.

“No, it’s your birthday. Let me treat you. Don’t go around tending to others or me today. Just because Giyuu or the others aren’t here, doesn’t mean they didn’t leave you anything. Those gifts will have to wait though, it’s bad enough I just ruined their surprises. But, I couldn’t let you think nothing is going on for you.”

His fingers move down to my chin, holding it up to face him head on with his thumb still swirling softly on my bottom lip. Damn, even sitting in bed he towers over me. His height, his hands on my mouth, and his lavender eyes are all making me feel warm deep inside. I don’t care about a missing hand, I have 2 good ones for him. I even don’t care about an ear that’s gone either, I can still talk the other off. Nothing can take away this beating heart of mine that yearns for Sabito.

“Can I give you your first gift? If it’s okay with you?”

I nod softly, taking shallow breaths that seem too loud right now. He smiles, releasing my face and leans in. Oh my goodness. My heart is about to beat of my chest. His image closes in on me and I close my eyes.

“Surprise” huh? My eyes flutter open in confusion. Warm checks brush against mine as they pull back. I turn to face him, just barely missing his face with my lips. He pulls out a small box that was hidden under the piece of blanket that I sat next to. Oh.

*@veenau on weheartit.com*

“What’s wrong? I thought you would’ve liked gifts” his tone and raised eyebrows send my hopes and stomach to a plummet. His hand rest on the box in front of me and reach for latch to open it. I feel like I’m about to throw up. Am I over thinking all of this? I could’ve sworn he was going to kiss me. Tears threaten to surface but my vision and thoughts are interrupted by something shiny and beautiful.

In front of me, Sabito raises the most beautiful bracelet I’ve ever seen. Gems that could rival the beauty of those lavender-eyes-I-love glisten in the morning light. It’s golden hooks catch my breath and now I’m starting to think those tears might escape. Sabito’s looks satisfied as I take and put on the beautiful gift. Once its on, his hands takes mine and turns it over to observe it.

“Looks even better than I imagined on you”

“Thank you so much, it’s... it’s too much really” tears sting my face, making it hard to look him in the eyes.

His hand returns to my cheek, comforting me with his soft smile and caresses me.

“Nonsense. I still have plenty more to give.” It’s too much. My emotions are overwhelmed with such passion that I feel like I’m going to burst. I love him. I’ve always had, and I always will. How can he give me such things and not expect me to cling onto him still.

“(Y/n)” his face turns serious and I freeze. Eyes search mine, reaching into the depths of my orbs. I’m losing it. I’m leaning to into his hold and it’s happening again. His face comes close and this time I don’t close my eyes. I don’t want to be deceived again. Only this time his face doesn’t turn away. It’s coming closer and I lean in. He stops, our faces just a breath away.

“I’m sorry I’ve pushed you away. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I just wanted to respect you in your age and relationship with me and your brother. I tried my best but I can’t-“

“Neither can I!” Lips clash and breaths are lost.

I’m eager and can’t handle it anymore. I grab his horari to pull us closer. I mindlessly get up and sit on the edge of his bed, all while wrapping an arm around him and keeping our lips together. I want to kiss him hard and give him everything but his hand turns to a grip and tightens ever so slightly, pulling me away. Before I could feel hurt, his lips return to me. Only this time they were softer. He takes the lead to care for me with his lips. Gently parting mine with his skillful movements, encouraging me to follow his sweet rhythm. Tingles spread from my lips and shoot down me. Our warm breaths are tangled and I start to feel heat build up between my thighs. I may be a virgin, but I know exactly what desires are building within me. I’ve been thinking about Sabito for years, and those thoughts and fantasies have only evolved in the recent years.

*@1214kstr on Twitter*

My fingers start to work their way to the back of his head, massaging his scalp and getting lost in his long hair. I’m sinking further into his warm kiss. My eagerness takes over again and I flush myself against him. For a moment I thought I might’ve pushed it, but his hand glides down. Wrapping around my waist and holding me firmly against him. Even with only 1 arm, he still overpowers me.

My breath gives out first and I’m forced to pull away. His hand moves from a tight wrap around me to squeezing my hip, not daring to let me get away. As if I would dare run away now. The looks we now exchanged were a mixture of shock and satisfaction. How I’ve waited and dreamed of this moment for so long. My deep breaths turn to tiny laughs.

He breaks into a smile and joins my laughter, only to shut me up due to another deep kiss that takes my breath away.

🌿🌿🌿🌿🌿🌿🌿🌿🌿🌿🌿🌿🌿🌿🌿🌿

The rest of the day consisted of kisses, gifts, and walks around the property. I, of course, also insisted I tend to him. He was still in great pain, but he pushed through for me and made today the best.

We were now back in his house, in his kitchen that I’m all too familiar in. After much pestering on my end, I finally convinced him to let me cook for us. Our meal was delicious and I was starting to feel anxious. I didn’t want the day to end.

“Sooooo…. What happens from here on out?” I questioned. I had to know. It’s a question thats lingered in my mind these past few nights, worrying for him and wondering what’s going to happen next. He’s been back for several days. Since then, besides being with me, he’s had meetings and some time to himself.

“Well, I obviously can’t continue as a slayer in my condition.” He leans back in his chair, shifting his mood from light to heavy.

*@uofang on Twitter, posted Aug 27th, 2019*

I felt the pressure of his gaze, holding still and waiting for this next words.

He inhales deeply. The rise of his chest was just enough to push aside his robe to expose that much more of his broad chest. I’d be lying if I say my eyes didn’t linger too long.

With a clearing of his throat, my attention snaps back to his face. Embarrassment flushes my face, but he just smirks. He drums his fingers on the table and continues. “However, my desire to help still lingers. My pride is stubborn and I can’t let up. So… the master and I have come to a conclusion of my retirement. I’ll settle a bit of ways, in a new home of my own. There I will try my best to help guide and train future slayers sent to me once I’m fully healed. I can handle myself. Financially and stability wise, I’m fine. I’m set. However….” He leans forward and places his handless arm on the table with his other. Both of our eyes look down at them, then back at each other.

“I’m going to need help. Someone to help me with some things…some cooking … and some other things.”

My chest puffs up. Here’s my chance!

“Let me. I can be your helper!” I know what I’m saying would mean abandoning being a slayer. Maybe I can still fight. Yes, I’ll talk to the master. But, what if Sabito or master objects?

He shakes his head at me, a light chuckle escapes his lips and I’m feeling confused.

“I don’t want you as my helper, (y/n)”

Ouch.

“I want you as my wife”

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

#demon slayer #kny #kny sabito #sabito x reader #Sabito #pillar men #giyuu #water pillar #kimetsu no yaiba #DS

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rwhague · 3 years

Text

How I Published my Novel: Using Indie Publishing Presses

If you have been following me long, you will know I wrote my novel, SURVIVING MIDAS, with intentions of getting it published. I went through the process of querying agents, taking part in #PitMad, and checking out countless manuscript wish lists. I am proud to say that my new novel will be release on August 24th, 2021. This is my story.

When I first wrote SURVIVING MIDAS, I thought ‘this is the greatest novel ever! People are going to love it!’ Actually, no. I didn’t think that. I thought it was crap, but it was the best crap I could produce. I had been down this publishing route before, spent more money than I’d like admit, and for nothing. My biggest fear is that it would happen again. So I did what I did not do last time: RESEARCH!

It’s amazing how many things you can learn if you just do a little research. I’m going to take you a bit on the journey that took me several years. If you are an experienced author, this probably won’t be new to you.

First off, I found out the press I went with last time was called a ‘vanity press’—a press that will print just about anything one sends them, but makes it sound like your novel was stupendous! Even if it’s littered with errors, plot holes and inconsistencies! I wrote another blog post on this if you are interested in this (not technically) scam. (click here for previous post). They prey on inexperience writers, getting them to pay for something they should be paid for. It’s a well-known racket too, but I was not plugged into a community of writers, so I had never heard of it. So the very next thing I did was get into a critique group.

I found my home on critiquecircle.com and have made several friends through that website. The site works on a point system where you receive points for critiquing someone else’s work so that you can post your own work. I put my first chapter up for review and immediately found out that it sucked. Like REALLY sucked. It was tough facing up to it, but I learned so much so quick! Then, as you critique other’s works, you begin to recognize mistakes and inconsistencies in your own work as well making you an excellent self-editor.

After getting my work critiqued (and swallowing my pride so I could make changes), I started the tedious and soul-crushing work of querying literary agents. I queried over 150 agents and I still do not have an agent. Here’s the deal: the barrier to entry is super high for writers. There are thousands of debut authors out there trying to gain the attention of a single literary agent. Publishing houses are looking for certain things, usually trending things. If your story is not on trend or so unique that a bookseller will have trouble setting it on the bookshelf, you will not get an agent.

My story is an older young adult novel dealing with drugs, trauma, abuse, and underworld crime bosses. It has a little romance, a few elements of literary fiction, and drama. It’s a lot. It doesn’t fit neatly into a box (and is far more unique than most things on the shelf today IMO). I’m marketing it as an older YA contemporary suspense. But you see my point: there’s not much on the market like it today.

So how did I get a publisher?

I participated in #PitMad on Twitter last November. You create a small blurb the length of a tweet and promote it all day in order to snag the attention of literary agents. Within fifteen minutes, City Limits Publishing liked my tweet, which is a request for querying. I did not receive another like from an agent the rest of the day.

I looked up City Limits Publishing. It is a small agency that opened in 2020. They publish a wide variety of books ranging from children’s to romance to mystery. I did not recognize any authors, and the literary agents I spoke too had not known of them. Keep in mind I have been scammed before, so my suspicions were on high alert. But they did not charge for publication and the royalties were higher than the general market.

I deliberated on this group for a long time. And finally, I gave them a chance.

And now my novel is coming out on August 24th!

So, what is the biggest fear I’m facing now with my publisher? Of course, the size of the press is concerning for the following reason: most of the marketing is going to fall on the author because of the small size of the platform; they might not be able to afford top of the line editors; the cover designs might be cheap. But go to City Limits Publishing and tell me what you think about their book covers. I think they’re gorgeous!

So what about marketing and editing?

City Limits is still a small press, so I’m going to have to do most of my marketing. Thankfully, the group has sent me a guide on developing social media presence, targeting audiences, designing websites, etc. and I’m actively doing all that. As it relates to editing, I don’t really know the quality of their editors because my piece did not require much editing! I mentioned my critique partners before. Thanks to their input, I had no plot holes and my scenes were written clearly. The story structure was intact, and received quite a bit of praise from the editing department about that!

Would I recommend all authors going indie? I honestly don’t know. It depends on what you want/can do. I could not afford to self-publish, so having someone pay for the creation of my book was important. I am doing most of the marketing, but in this day and age, who’s not? My book is not being put out by one of the Big 5 presses, but my percentage of royalties earned is much higher. My book will not be on the bookshelf in most of the big box stores, but will be available online for purchase at those outlets.

There are pros and cons to every method of publishing. This is still a risk, but so is all of life. But we make the most of it no matter what!

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feralandmoonstruck · 3 years

Text

Promise

DNI IF UNDER 18

WC: 1745

True to his word, Prince Viorel spent most of the next three days in the infirmary with Fiora. He had left her side a handful of times, but was never gone long. He even slept nearby until she was discharged.

“I want to see the others,” she told Viorel as they left the infirmary together.

“I’ve already made arrangements and am taking you to see them now.”

She couldn’t keep the smile off her face. “Thank you, Prince.”

“I promised you I would, and I always keep my promises.”

Fiora could hear the murmurs of courtiers and servants that they passed. She drew herself up under the frightened gazes that fell upon her mottled visage. She refused to look apologetic or embarrassed in the face of their twittering. Her defiance was in every line of her face. The scabs and swelling and bruises were all a reminder to herself and others, When faced with capture, I chose death. Having been stopped from going through with it was something entirely different from backing down on her own.

“Before we part,” Viorel said, “I was wondering if you might like to have rooms made up near mine, or if you’d prefer elsewhere?”

Fiora looked at him. “It depends on what my purpose here is.”

“I could not tell you what Dracen had in mind, but you would be part of the court in one form or another.”

Fiora heard the words he didn’t speak aloud. If you choose me, your life will be better. She chewed her tongue for a moment. “I know which you’d rather I pick.”

Viorel ducked his head. “I will admit that I have hope. I would not have made the suggestion otherwise.”

“Do I need to make my decision now?”

“You may see your friends first, if you wish, but the sooner your decision is made, the sooner I can have your rooms ready. You still need rest.”

“I’d like to wait.”

They came to a stop in front of a door gilded with gold. “Of course,” he said. “Once you’ve made up your mind, simply send Lettie or another of the maids to inform me.”

Beyond the golden door, the room was filled with sunlight. She didn’t have a chance to notice much more, because the moment they saw her all of the Oleran women surged to their feet as one. A wave of concerned voices. Viorel shut the door quietly behind her.

“Fiora,” they shouted, “are you alright?” Their questions overlapped with shrieks at her appearance.

“I’m alright, I’m alright,” she assured them. She let them pull her deeper into the room and settle her on a couch.

“What happened?”

“We’ve been so worried about you!”

“They said you’d been hurt. Was it one of the soldiers?”

Fiora held up her hands to slow the onslaught of questions. “I hurt myself. That’s why I wasn’t here sooner, I’ve been held in the infirmary for three days.”

“Why would you do something like this to yourself,” Anjali, one of the oldest women among them, asked. She leaned forward, letting her black hair fall like a curtain. “You can tell us if someone did this to you.”

Fiora squeezed her arm. “I promise, I did this. I thought death would be the better option.”

Maria, one of the youngest of their group, began to weep. Jasmine and Beatrice, two sisters who’d run the mill after their father, moved to console her.

“You’re so strong,” another said. “I could never be as strong as you. Even if life here might be terrible, I just don’t think I could fight as hard as you have.”

A spark of annoyance shot through Fiora as a chorus of agreements rose around her. “They took us from our lives! Burned our homes to the ground! How could you not want to fight?”

Camry, a girl standing at the edge of the group, gave Fiora a small smile. “Fi, we’re not fighters. We never have been. And even if we were, what could we even do now? You said so yourself, our home is gone. We don’t have anything to go back to.”

Fiora bit her tongue and shook her head. “It doesn’t mean we have to give in to them.” She could taste the bitterness of the hypocrisy her words left behind. How dare she lecture them on giving in when she had spent nearly all her time here in the company of a prince?

“Fighting now would only make our lives more miserable. So far they’ve done nothing to hurt us. The only one of us hurt is you.”

“And the rest of you agree with this?”

The women gathered around Fiora looked away, mumbling noncommittal answers. She knew they were right, but to accept it felt like a betrayal of everything she believed. And yet, Viorel's offer hung like a glimmering crystal before her. It would be so easy to accept. She could give up and give in. It would mean having a better life than she could have ever dreamed of in Olera. There, she was just another poor person living on the edge of the kingdom, so far from the capital that help was hard to come by and any wealth got lost long before it came anywhere near Millen.

Fiora stood and pushed her way through them. “I can’t believe you. I can’t believe any of you.” she shook her head, “Turning your backs on Olera so easily.”

Camry stepped forward and laid a hand on Fiora’s arm. “Fi, you don’t have to keep fighting. No one will think less of you for doing what needs to be done. You think we don’t want to fight? Our lives and our families were destroyed, Fi. Of course we want to fight! But fighting isn’t going to bring them back. Nothing will. We’re just trying to be realistic, and so long as we have each other, as long as we’re alive, we’ll be Olerans. Nothing can change that or take that away from us. It’s just, there’s no reason to make ourselves more miserable than we already are.”

Fiora yanked her arm out of Camry’s grasp. She shook her head, the corners of her eyes burning. “I don’t,” her mouth opened and closed several times. Camry was right, these women were all she had left of her home. There was no way back to how their lives were before. “How do I stop,” she whispered. Tears slid down her swollen cheeks.

Camry wrapped her arms around Fiora. “Hey, it’s okay,” she soothed, “we’re all here for you. For all of us.”

Anjali rose and joined her. “I wish we had an answer, but I think that’s something we each have to find within ourselves. And even then we may never know.” She rubbed broad circles along Fiora’s back.

“How are you not scared?”

“We are,” Anjali whispered.

“Hattie hasn’t been eating,” Jasmine spoke up from where she cradled Maria to her chest, “and Juniper won’t get out of bed.”

A murmur of agreement went through the cluster of women. Fiora let herself be drawn back into their embrace. Giving their fears voice diminished their power little by little. It made them smaller and the bond between the women stronger. They cried together for all that they had lost. Time was immaterial as they clung to each other. When the door opened they all jumped. More than one of them let out a little scream, but it was only the maids.

“Ladies,” an older woman in Breschen colors spoke. “We’ve been sent to prepare you for your presentations to the royal family.”

Several of the Oleran women began to sob again as the maids filed in and drew their charges out of the room. One by one their numbers dwindled. Maria clung first to Jasmine and then to Beatrice, refusing to leave until their guards entered the room to prize them apart.

Fiora was one of the last women to leave. “Where’s Lettie,” she demanded when Milo came to fetch her.

“She’s finishing setting up your rooms.”

��My rooms?”

“Prince Viorel is having you something made up near his quarters.”

Fiora shook her head. “I didn’t– he said I could decide.”

Milo shrugged. “You’ll not be questioning the prince’s orders.” He took her by the arm and led her out of the room.

“He can’t do this! He said it was my decision,” she spat.

“The prince can do as he pleases.”

“I demand to see him!”

“Demand all you want, it’s not going to make a difference. Neither Vioral, nor any of the royal family will ever jump at your demands. You’ll see him when he wishes, and not a moment before.”

Fiora growled and swore all the way to her new room. Milo deposited her inside with Lettie and snapped the door shut behind her.

“How did your visit with your friends go,” Lettie asked. “My apologies for not being there, but as you can see…” she let the words trail off as she gestured around them.

The room was done up in greens and golds. Iron lattice adorned the exterior of the windows and cast intricate shadows on the plush rugs that covered the gleaming wood floors. The bed was larger and more beautiful than Fiora had ever seen. The footboard was carved into a masterpiece of forestry so detailed that she could hardly follow it. A glance at the headboard told her it was much the same. Each of the four posts were topped with carvings of an owl. This room wasn’t meant for someone who was considered a prisoner. Not even someone who would be a maid. Fiora’s heart lurched at the same moment her stomach twisted when she realized the implications.

Fiora dragged her gaze back to Lettie, “I can’t believe he did this.”

“It’s quite beautiful, isn’t it?” Lettie ushered her deeper into the room. “Now, I know that this isn’t as close to Prince Viorel as you might have hoped, but even he has rules that must be followed. But don’t worry, he’s not far. In the meantime, why don’t I get you washed and ready for your presentation to the family, hm?”

Her shoulders slumped forward. “If you must.”

“We won’t be able to cover up all of the bruising, but I promise to do my best.”

“I’m not worried,” she sighed.

Lettie laughed. “I appreciate your confidence in me. The bathing room is this way.”

#the spite ratio #tsr #my writing

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im-thinking-arson · 3 years

Text

Hi wow depression is a hell of a thing.

I'm sorry for the relative silence here, considering everything that has been going on in the last (roughly) year and a half it has been really hard to focus on any creative outlets. Everything has felt pretty heavy as I have been piecing together what exactly happened to myself and the people I used to share a community with.

Although my former FC is basically non-existent at this point, I feel it is appropriate to say that I no longer associate with its' leader @morganaux (sernoudenet on Twitter and formerly here) and to clarify why.

I have been struggling with what to even say about the situation. There are so many layers that I don't honestly know if any single cross-section could explain all there is to unpack. When it takes multiple people six months to explore everything they know as fact... I think that shows its not so much of a 'he said, they said' scenario as the few people who still support Morgy have tried to claim.

I feel guilty not speaking up sooner, considering this person is a member of the FFXIV community who I'm fairly sure some of my mutuals follow. Its so hard to speak out when he publicly acts innocent, like he has quietly moved on and refuses to acknowledge what he's done.

The reality feels so cold in contrast, with the knowledge I have- that he has done this multiple times before, burning down or wearing down those he has hurt with false sincerity; claiming innocence, claiming people misunderstand the significance of the intentions behind the knives in their backs, claiming he is the truest victim of the mess wrought of his own actions.

He quietly retweets fan art, cute animals, head canons, and all kinds of fandom things- but also others' tweets to identify with their own traumas- the same traumatic thoughts and feelings he incites in others through a mixture of gaslighting, lashing out, and playing the victim. He tweets passive aggressively about people he feels the victim of, (justified or not) even amid posts about his dearly beloved OC.

At this point I should just block him and try to scrape all memory of what I went through from my mind, but un-fucking-fortunately I know him too well to believe it's over when it's over. He still makes passive aggressive tweets about people he hasn't talked to in one, two, ?? years, a person who was a good friend to him for 10 years before he scapegoated them to maintain his own sense of righteousness.

Seeing as I witnessed him maintain not one, not two, not three- FOUR venting channels in his own discord, including at one point one specifically made for sh*tting on a single person, defending it's use and encouraging others to participate saying 'this is how victims cope'...

I know it's not over, and if he had a single shred of...anything... He could leverage against me he would have already tried to 'cancel' me. I'm not turning my back again to see if he decides to throw another knife.

For a long time I wanted to believe I had simply misunderstood the situation, that his intentions weren't so self-serving. The more I saw, the more I heard testimony from others that matched my own, the more I began to un-repress and process my own memories and connect the dots... And the less sense his own account made.

While I tried to maintain my friendship with him I ignored all the red flags, my own rise in anxiety, the isolation I felt. I felt so much pressure to fit into his equation, to be a supportive friend, to keep track of how he was feeling that I stopped taking care of my own mental health.

All the while he got angry for people not checking on him when he asked for space, threw a fit when anyone failed to accommodate his whims, and even accused his three closest friends of purposefully excluding him by taking screenshots without him in them or even hanging out together when he was offline..

And he would have people believe that most of the issues he was involved in centered on his friends not communicating with him. But in my case at least, nothing could be further from the truth.

I told him I felt uncomfortable with the fact his (at the time) friend had publicly lashed out at me in his discord server for stating my opinion. He suggested I work harder to befriend this person, that he couldn't and wouldn't approach his friend about it because he wasn't a FC member and only there as a friend of himself and his two closest friends.

He lashed out at a former friend (and FC mate) of mine -on my behalf- because they wouldn't stop messaging me while I was at work... And when this person subsequently put me on blast thinking I had put him up to it I mentioned considering posting my side of the story- to initially be shamed (by the person mentioned above) for suggesting I protect myself, stating it could make things worse for the people who had already publicly attacked this person...

I approached him about another former friend of his angrily ranting about a character I had though at the time they knew I was planning to RP (I had spoken about it both in-game and in a discord we all shared) because I didn't know them well enough to feel comfortable saying that made me feel uncomfortable and unwelcome in the space. I approached my former friend because I knew from experience he took things like this seriously and he was the one who had invited this character TO role play in the first place.

He reacted by telling this person he had no idea why I was upset, asked them to address an issue they had no context for - prompting them to write an apology, and then reinforced their worry that I hated them by saying I "probably disliked them since [I] hadn't written them an apology" in return. I had thought they both wanted to drop the subject because he stopped responding about the situation.

He decided the situation was resolved and kept inviting us around one another for at least four months while keeping up the illusion that I disliked this person despite me trying to remain friendly- and said nothing about the situation until AFTER he had nuked his FC and almost everyone was done with his bullshit. I had asked him to be honest about the situation and finally got "[name] thinks you dislike him" ???

(I might add more details about these situations because it's honestly much more of a mess than it might seem, but I'd probably have to write a fucking book to explain everything well in-sequence of events.)

But those examples aside, I told him up front that the favoritism he showed and my concerns being glossed over was messing with my head, that I didn't know if I felt safe in his FC, that the whole situation was making me feel like I was losing my grip on reality, that at one point feeling like I was being discouraged from defending myself was beginning to make me feel su*cidal. These are things he knew.

He reacted to this ignoring both cause and effect, ignoring me unless I reached out first or it concerned RP, continually inviting me to hang out with people he knew I felt uncomfortable with (or vice versa) and normally turning down anything I invited him to do otherwise- including several times that I offered to help him with Eden or dungeons he wanted to farm when he previously said he was free to do so. A couple of times he declined saying he was waiting to see if he could convince another friend... and then threw a fit about 'no one wanting to help him' despite declining my offer and not reaching out to me after his other friend declined (I was still online but he decided to vent on discord instead).

Behind my back he talked shit about me, enough that someone who had known him 10 years and was familiar with his behavioral patterns qualified it 'constant' bashing, whenever I came up in conversation. And even included confronting me about the three situations I mentioned above in a plan he was working on to 'fix' his FC, as if he thought I was reaching out to him to stir up drama.

Eventually it came out that the friend I mentioned in the first example was emotionally abusing his friends (and I found out later told him two of them were talking shit about him- prompting HIM to lash out at them). One of them mentioned that person had still been talking shit about me 6 months later on a private account and when I got upset that THREE people I had thought were my friends didn't tell me, I made a few jokes in poor taste (that I do now regret) about the situation to try and prevent myself from having a mental break down.

The person he led to believe I hated left the discord server at that point and he decided to divert some of the blame for (in his words) 'being worried for this person's life' -whom he had attacked over the situation- to me... blaming them leaving and him having trouble contacting them on me.

I told him if this former friend was indeed attacking people and he was so worried we needed to talk about the situation, since in other situations his response was to ignore the hurt caused. He blew up about me messaging him at work, he blamed me for every situation I had brought to his attention. He went to his mods to rant about me and sent one of them to scope out the situation in hopes they could shut me up.

This is the friend of 10 years, who quickly became concerned and not for the reasons he had hoped. They shared a few screenshots of things said to gaslight me behind my back as the conversation progressed. Eventually the other mod jumped in and, knowingly or not proceeded to gaslight me FOR him, based on what they were told. By him.

They reinforced everything he was saying in guise of a neutral perspective and my efforts to prevent a full-scale breakdown failed. I lost all grip on reality for several days- in which at some point I wrote an apology to him for accusing him of several things that were later proven true- and one thing he, himself, proved he'd lied about to the other person involved.

I spent almost two weeks in a self-imposed social break to sort everything out and attempt to cope with what I was told was reality. I fell into the deepest depression I've been in since I had to run away from home, and honestly if it wasn't for my wonderful SO and our house mates, I might have really hurt myself.

It turns out another situation had been brewing parallel to my own. People had been coming to the social mod, the friend of 10 years, with their own worries about him. Almost every. Single. Member. Including at least four people who came forward with fears that if they did a single thing that he interpreted as an insult or threat they would find themselves exiled, called out, and ranted about in a jumbled mix of truth and fictional-malice until their own friends turned on them to support his victim complex.

These four people came forward on the condition that their names be kept anonymous to protect their identity. He didn't take kindly to this, quickly demanding names so they (his mod team) could handle the situation. The mod refused, knowing he has a history of lashing out at any criticism against him and to protect those who were already afraid of bringing the problems up to Morgy.

He reacted by lashing out at this person, claiming they ruined his life, and attempting to weed out those who had spoken out against him by kicking anyone he didn't feel 'safe' being around from his FC. He posted a message in his FC discord about resuming his 'reign of terror'... Which, even if it was a joke, was in in poor taste after pruning his FC of anyone he didn't think could be convinced of his 'good intentions.'

I missed this first culling of his FC members, I assume, because I had apologized and at the time submitted to his version of events. He approached me soon after I noticed the changes in the discord and FC roster; claiming he really wanted to work things out and remain friends- going as far as to say he was so nervous about my reaction that he was shaking.

I wanted to take him at face value despite everything that happened because yeah, I did want to believe he was sincere, that he was a good friend, and that all of it had been an unfortunate misunderstanding. And at first I did until I started talking to other people who knew him and getting their side of the story. Nothing he said added up. Between first-hand testimony and over a hundred screenshots from multiple people the ONLY things that were clear and consistent were that he lied and fit his narrative to whatever he wanted to achieve.

He tried to reduce conflict by omitting information, he controlled people's perception of one another by how he spoke about them and how close he let them to himself and others, he built a support group by polarizing his friends against his 'enemies' and if anyone had a problem with him... They were wrong, and got added to the pile of 'aggressors' he had accumulated over the years, to be bashed and spit on for years to come.

He may have sensed my change in opinion when I directly asked him to help me reach out to the person who thought I disliked them- managed to come to an understanding and we mutually apologized for the situation... Without his meddling. Or maybe when he realized I was still on talking terms with the people he had lashed out at and directly asked him why he had kicked people who did absolutely nothing to him... Or it could be that I kept in contact with the person who 'ruined his life' by trying to protect his friends from him. I don't know.

While we were still talking he tried to identify with me and bond over the feeling of loosing the FC, a group of people that despite the anxiety, and pain I had felt in the environment he'd built I did deeply respect and care about... Despite the dissolution of that group and the abuse I suffered being -at the core- his own fault. He even went as far as to say my description of the PTSD and fear I was experiencing described exactly how he was feeling, too.

As our conversations further weighed on my mental health I had to take a break from interacting with him. I was honest again, with what I was told, what I knew, and asked him for honesty about the situation... What he had said about me behind my back and why because I wanted to hear it from him. I wanted to see if he would acknowledge the harm he caused both to me and the rest of the (former) FC.

He never did, and probably won't. He asked for some time to tend to his own stress levels and mental health and then blocked me on all social media and discord, and kicked me from his FC without ever making an effort to reach out.

Of the few people who are still close to him, one of them suggested that "maybe he just decided he didn't want to be friends anymore." But after him begging to have a conversation to iron out all the facts, claiming to be so anxious about such a conversation going well that he was 'shaking', admitting that what he did hurt people and that my being wary of him was understandable, asking me -directly- to let him know if he did anything 'shady', and stressing he REALLY wanted this conversation to take place when we were both able to handle it because of how important he felt it was...

I feel like its fair to say that him suddenly cutting off all contact isn't quite so simple. He could have done that at any point. Before pointedly ignoring my concerns, before gaslighting me, before blaming me for the results of his own actions, before accepting an apology for accusing him of things he did legitimately do, and certainly before directly telling me had no real problems with me, that he it was super important to him that we remain friends, and that I deserved his honesty.

I'm not going to try and tell anyone who they should be friends with or not. Frankly, people can change and in a lot of cases experiences with individuals will be different.

But on that same note, if I had known then what I know now I might have saved myself from roughly two years of anxiety and avoided the state of dissonance I now find myself in. I still have moments where I want to doubt the things I experienced first hand. My mind is still trying to repress my own memories to cope.

A part of me still cares about him despite everything because as far as I knew, he was my friend and I am still trying to reconcile what I found to be true.

At this point I feel like I should say please don't harass Morgy if you read this, but honestly? If you have any reason to hold him accountable go for it. He needs it. And if you have any gut feelings about him or anyone in his circle please listen to it. The few supporters he still has are willing to ignore anything he has done previous to the fall of his FC and have shown they are willing to debate and accuse people who speak out about legitimate concerns involving him.

If anyone has any questions I am willing to answer them and share the proof I have.

And in the off chance anyone wants to (further) argue with me about my experiences or whether or not I suffered enough to be considered a victim, please Google some images of a hand giving the middle finger. But if after that you still really want to play stupid games? I can find you some stupid prizes.

I don't owe him my silence. Or peace of mind. The only thing I owe him is to be as entirely, brutally, honest as possible given the information I have. I think it's a fair offer considering the mind-numbing volume of honesty he -still- owes all of us.

- - - - -

I may add more onto this. Unfortunately the entire situation is a lot more complex, but I wanted to get the backbone of my own experiences out there and there is so much bullshit it can't all be seen from any one direction. A lot of the circumstantial evidence loops back into other situations and makes it hard to comprehensively represent everything on any sort of singular timeline. As I said in the beginning there is a reason it took a small group 6 months to piece it together.

I am far from the only person hurt, and the entire situation was a mess with people feeling unnerved or pressured into going along with his agenda. For the most part now that I have more context I don't blame most of the people involved for their own actions. I fully support those who can't or won't come forward about the situation whether they just want out of his drama, or are afraid to come forward.

#ffxiv community #ffxiv rp #Morganaux #Morgy #Ser Noudenet #ffxiv twitter

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highkeyweeb · 4 years

Text

To start this off on the most positive note I can, I would like to say that I love MHA. It’s a show I was skeptical to watch at first, but hooked me in faster than any anime had in a long time. I became very easily captivated by its characters and its story and can’t wait to see where Horikoshi takes it and the plan he has for it moving forward.

Now on the more upsetting side of things… The MHA/BNHA fandom has, and pardon my French (Aoyama would be disappointed), gone to shit. I first learned about everything that was going on when a friend sent me a Tiktok. They always send me MHA Tiktoks because they know I love them and they always make me smile seeing skits, or cosplay or whatever else people do because they’re showing their love for the fandom. So it undoubtedly shattered my heart when I saw how horrific things are in the fandom right now. Needless to say that’s not what I was expecting when I opened my messages.

I quickly tried to get as informed on the situation as I could (because honestly you should never take any information you get from Tiktok at face value, ALWAYS try to educate yourself more). It led me to a new article, some Twitter posts, and a certain Instagram post.

I’ll say this right now: as a KiriBaku shipper, it would break my heart if KiriBaku, or any other ship for that matter, became canon simply because the author was pressured into pleasing a toxic fanbase.

To be a fan of something isn’t to want it to follow YOUR vision. It isn’t even about being happy about everything that happens in the story. It’s about being involved, and being able to voice your opinions in a healthy, open-minded, and nonjudgemental way. Some people like Bakugo, others do not. Some people aren’t even a fan of the protagonist of the story, AND THAT’S OKAY. You don’t have to love every part of something to be a part of a fandom.

But just because you DON’T love a part of something, or what YOU want hasn’t happened, doesn’t mean that you should ruin the experience for everyone.

Shipping isn’t about ships becoming canon. As a shipper from multiple fandoms, I’ll be the first and hopefully not the last to tell you that. There are wholesome ways to feed your passion for a ship, and there are definitely wrong ways to go about doing that as well. I’ll tell you some healthy ways that I have used for years, and am still guilty of using to this day: fan art, fan fiction, and Tumblr.

Fan art is an obvious one. Not only do you get to see all the cute, romantic, wholesome/unwholesome moments between your ship, but you also get to support amazing creators who are exceptionally talented.

Fan fiction on the other hand, has such a negative connotation to it. On the surface level, 80% of fan fiction is badly written, meaningless sexualization of the characters, and has no structure. But I challenge shippers to look a little deeper, if you love a ship to the point where you want it to become canon, immerse yourself in a universe where that dream can come true! But DON’T push your visions onto other people.

It’s the same with religions, political views, and anything really. We’ve all spent time to develop our unique beliefs, and would hate for others to be violently forcing theirs onto us.

Now on to Tumblr. Yes, I know everyone has their reasons for hating or leaving Tumblr, but it’s a GREAT hub for people to get involved in fandoms in a healthy way. If you know a shipper of any kind, I challenge you again to tell them to try out Tumblr. If not for being a fan of the platform, but to be able to share your love for something in healthy and non-toxic way.

Now that is NOT to say take the toxic comments to another platform. If you or someone you know has commented, tweeted, or posted towards Horikoshi to make your ship canon (in any way shape or form) you are in the wrong. That isn’t the right way to show your adoration for something, no matter how peacefully or harmlessly you think you asked.

Now to get back to the issue at hand, this a very simple case of a few people ruining it for everyone. I wouldn’t be surprised if at this point Horikoshi just abandoned BNHA. It must be on his mind. And no matter how many people are telling you they love you and what you do, somehow your mind always manages to fixate itself on the negative, hateful, and hurtful comments. If you were ever a teenager, you might be able to understand that.

To everyone saying that shippers are ruining the fandom, I understand your anger. And on some level I empathize with it. But do try to understand that it isn’t shippers as a whole that are the source of all this negativity, it’s the select few of them that believe they are so entitled they can get whatever they want. If anyone out there is feeling like they have a right to have a say in things like which ships become canon or what path the story takes, remember: this isn’t your story. This is Horikoshi’s story, his universe, and his tale. He has the right, no… the PRIVILEGE to make it whatever he wants it to be. And I wholeheartedly believe that he will make it nothing short of spectacular.

Holy heck, I know this was way too long and no one read this through to it’s entirety but this was more of just a personal rant to get things that have been on my mind, OFF my mind. I can only hope that someone read what I said and realized something they did wrong, and a way they can change their actions in the future to make not only this fandom, but the world as a whole, a better place.

Have a great day everyone. ❤️

P.S. - To everyone saying they’re not gay, or it’s not a romance anime, etc. I want to remind you that not ALL ships are romantic ones. Now in this case I feel like the conversation is strictly talking about romantic ships, but just a reminder in case someone forgot or wasn’t aware. On top of that, there are PLENTY of non-romantic anime that have canonical pairs.

P.S.S. - Just as I was about to post this I thought of another thing: calling shippers mental, disgusting, or f-ed up is EXTREMELY generalizing, and gives an entire community of people a bad name when it’s just a select few. Also downright hating on certain ships because you don’t understand them or they seem outrageous to you is never acceptable, whether you’re a shipper or not. Now of course that’s not to say that you have to like everything but... if you don’t have anything nice to say then just don’t say anything at all.

This post is as much a message to the entitled shippers of the fandom, as it is to the toxic members of the fandom who turned to using hurtful words to put down those shippers in order to tell them they’re wrong. Two wrongs, NEVER make a right.

Feel free to reblog and add any constructive comments on things you think I may have missed. In a community where there is so much hate being thrown around right now, and people are being looked down upon for something that should be so harmless and simple, I would really appreciate it if there were no hurtful words associated with this post. Let’s go beyond Plus Ultra to make this fandom a better place. 💛

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tundrainafrica · 4 years

Text

Title: A Tale of Two Slaves (4/17)

Summary: “Soulmates don’t exist. Fate doesn’t exist. Everything is a choice.” At that moment, Levi could only watch as she made the choice for him.“

Reincarnation AU. Levi remembers everything from their past life. Hange doesn’t.

Note: Feedback is very much appreciated!

Other Chapters: 1 2 3 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14

Link to cross-postings: AO3

As it turned out, Hange’s thesis wasn’t just about jumping.

But it would be nice to do it about flying. She had mentioned, echoing that same sentiment in those numerous interviews he had read.

A case study on the changes of an athletes body and muscle composition from preseason to postseason.

Levi only found out exactly what Hange and Moblit were doing for their final thesis as she ran through it with him over coffee the morning after they met in the lab. He had to admit, he had forgotten whether or not Moblit had explained that same thing to him which was probably just easily overshadowed by the pages and pages of waivers that had been laid out in front of him.

Hange had a different approach to the documentation. She had the same waivers that needed to be signed but had completely understood that no one would have that same drive to read the whole thing and consider the nuances and implications of every bullet point. She had just asked him to check everything and sign or she would not be able to work with him.

Compensation. Injury Insurance. Transportation Subsidy. Meal Subsidy

Levi quickly complied. In fact, he probably would have complied even without the benefits that came with participating in the study. He was already half way through mindlessly checking the boxes by the time Hange had mentioned those parts after all.

“Everything is funded.” Hange had explained. He knew their university was particularly well off. Being an athlete he had been a beneficiary multiple times of free branded shoes, gym bags jackets, meals and even gadgets with championship wins

The generous funding she had received to conduct the research was particularly seen in the well equipped sports facility where Hange was to conduct said research.

Cardiovascular endurance, strength power, speed, power etc. He listed the physical fitness components she wanted to study, the logistics of switching partners and starting anew completely forgotten.

It had been less than 24 hours since he visited her office and it was as if Hange wasn’t as deep into her research as Moblit had made it out to be.

She’s been cooped up in the lab lately, watching track and field videos.

She’s already been talking to Elijah, they did a few tests.

There was truth to what Moblit had told him. Hange did admit to having already the preliminary data needed for her case study but as Hange had shown him soon after they started talking, she had no problem just scrapping her data or giving it to Moblit and starting again from scratch.

As Levi soon found out, she was too passionate about her research to consider the preliminary data wasted work.

Levi had found that last part out after their talk in the lab after she had casually mentioned her lurker Instagram account on top of her blatant refusal to use Facebook and Twitter since too many social media sites were just too much to manage. He could not resist the urge to check the accounts she followed and just as he expected, they were all famous athletes from all different fields, the one thing common about all athletes being the almost inhuman height and airtime they achieved.

Nanaba Briete her friend and the subject of her high school thesis, was a volleyball player. Elijah Miller was a horizontal jumper. Moblit pointed out as well, her data for both players was too comprehensive beyond what was expected from someone of her level of study.

Levi soon realized with her YouTube and Instagram lurker activity, she probably was a stan and for some reason, he was one of the objects of her stanning activity. Levi had seen those types of people on Twitter and Instagram. They had weird voting conglomerations, used some sort of weird language and interacted incessantly with any post on the object of their stanning activity Hange was not vocal in particular, her Instagram profile and YouTube channels both empty. He only had to go through the profiles she followed to see that she left likes in most if not all pictures. Among those she had liked were profiles that reposted pictures of his jumps.

Liked by Wingsoffreedom132 and thousands of others.

Levi soon realized after hours going through most if not all the accounts she followed that just like the average stan, Hange spammed the like button like crazy

Looking deep into the comments of one of his jumps that year, he had found a comment from her. A pair of wings and a heart next to it.

How long has she been following him?

Did she have those dreams too?

“Why?”

“Why what?” Hange asked.

“Why me?” Levi continued.

“I told you before. You're amazing. Your forms are all perfect, your body composition is good and that crazy fast improvement from no name player to rookie of the year?" Hange seemed too sure of herself and glimmer of hope that somehow she had any inkling of their connection in Levi's dreams dissipated. She started to rattle off numbers relating to Levi’s height differentials and vertical leap every year since high school, Levi had to note that there was some truth to what she was saying.

High jumping events had suddenly become much easier for Levi when he moved to the city for college. He had attributed it to the more frequent training that came with the more competitive environment of collegiate sports. It was an ironic turn of events though since that was also around the same time he had started experiencing those painful mornings after dreaming things he could barely member. He chose not to mention that just yet. The connection was just too illogical to be a causation or even correlation issue. It might have even just been an irrelevant coincidence.

Levi continued to listen as she explained schedules and outlines for meet ups. There was preliminary data gathering, multiple tests to be done on weekends in a sports facility a little farther away from the school. There were a few more documents that needed to be answered and submitted similar to what Moblit had sent. It would be time consuming, inconvenient. The prospect of Hange being there made it somewhat bearable.

So bearable, that Levi had found himself arriving at the train station Saturday morning one hour earlier than they agreed upon. They were going to the sports facility for preliminary data gathering. To his pleasant surprise, Hange was already there waiting.

“I hope you don’t mind the shitty schedule,” Hange said in greeting. She was staring at the duffel bag Levi had slung over his shoulder.

Levi had to stay overnight. With the sports facilities being shared among multiple researchers and multiple athletes, Hange found the most she could secure for a last minute booking was an early morning slot, offering instead to provide lodging to Levi for a night so he wouldn’t have to take a taxi late night and early morning when the trains were already closed.

“As long as there’s a place to stay.” It’s still better than commuting at 3am.

“Let’s drop your stuff first.”

The sports facility was a 15 minute train ride and as Levi exited the station, he was greeted by a large building that stretched out a fair number of meters in both directions. Was that the sports facility?

That wasn’t their destination though. Hange guided him through a few alleys and out into a main street where a quaint mid rise condominium was located right to their left.

“My condo only has one bedroom so I hope you won’t mind staying on the couch. It has a pull out bed though so you wouldn’t be too uncomfortable.”

Somehow Levi had expected a hotel. “Wait, I’m staying in your place?”

The area Hange lived in turned out to be only 15 minutes away by train but oddly enough, it was Levi’s first time there. He found himself just gazing at nothing in particular but whatever was in front of him at that moment as they walked through the streets. They were going to have brunch in a nearby cafe, Hange had clarified. He found himself particularly entertained by the crowds, the grey pavement and the tall buildings that lined his view all making up the urban jungle of the center of town.

The university and the surrounding town where Levi spent a good chunk of his five years was located in a quieter part of the city which Levi had gotten accustomed to pretty fast when he moved there. He never left that area unless necessary for competitions or for schoolwork. Consequently, he was not completely used to the bustle at the center of the city,

They had settled into a diner in a small part or town with Hange offering to pay for the lunch. As soon as they had given their orders, Hange slid a document to him with the words “personal data sheet” written in bold on the top. “In the final output, you will remain anonymous, Erwin just requested we keep the basic data on everyone we study.” Hange explained.

Levi scanned the document before looking up at Hange again. By the way she had looked at him, Levi was sure she could have answered some of it for him. “Why don’t you answer it for me.“ He challenged.

“It’s your data Levi so I---”

“I wanna see how much about me you know.” Levi answered with a no-nonsense tone.

Hange turned red as she pulled the form back towards herself. She scribbled a few things on the paper. “Where do you live?”

Levi gave his city and province.

“I knew that much.” Hange admitted. “Exact address?”

Levi answered it briefly, spelling it out when needed. “How many siblings do I have? What are their names?”

“Trick question. You’re an only child.” Hange said, looking up from the data sheet.

“The number question isn’t a trick question. You can answer with zero.” Levi continued. He did not need to make an effort to keep his tone playful. He was amused already. “And how do you know about my family?”

“Interviews.” Hange answered briefly.

Levi smiled. “I know you’re an only child too.”

“How did you know that?” Hange asked.

“Interviews.” Levi could see she had relaxed, a small smile creeping up her lips.

“So you’re researching me too.” She asked.

“You started it.”

“Which city am I actually from?” Hange challenged.

“You grew up here…” Levi answered. He sat up a little straighter. Seeing the amused smile on Hange's face, Levi felt it was a good time for other questions. His mind raced as he articulated one of his passing thoughts as he read through her articles. “Which brings up the question, if you live so near campus, why do you live in your own condo?” The public transport here isn’t shit either. Levi noted to himself. She had little excuse to live alone and from the looks of her place, she seemed to come from a well off family who could at least afford a place like that.

“I wanted freedom.”

A Tale of Two Slaves

The gym was huge. It was also so complete, the coverage so comprehensive that Levi was almost inspired to take up all the sports offered. They had indoor basketball courts, tennis courts and a complete track and field set.

The important part Hange pointed out as they entered though were the devices that could measure things like speed, weight, pulse, all necessary for her study. One of the more boring parts of the tour but surprising none the least.

Levi found himself particularly fixated on the fact that Hange was greeting everyone in the job like a regular.

"Hey, you weren't at the gym this morning."

"Had to pick up my friend here. He'll be helping me with my thesis."

Levi felt a tap on his back, brief and light. Maybe hesitant? Levi could not help but entertain the passing thought that if he were Moblit or maybe anyone else, she probably would have had her arm around his shoulders. He had seen her make that gesture towards Moblit and Elijah after all.

As Hange walked towards the desk and made conversation with what looked to be the receptionist, Levi watched her from behind. At first she had seemed too nerdy and too geeky that he had expected her to be lanky under the sweaters and the white coats she wore.

That day, she was in shorts and a blouse and Levi could not help but notice how her body curved underneath her clothes, and as he focused on her legs, he could make out the subtle muscle cuts on her legs. Hange's physique was definitely more toned than average and Levi pondered Hange's own physical fitness.

Her vertical. Her endurance. Her strength. The same things she had mentioned wanting to study about him.

As Hange gave him a tour though, Levi decided that it could wait until later.

A Tale of Two Slaves

That morning, with only less than a minute to drop his bag and could only afford a glance of her room.

As he arrived back there late in the afternoon after a long tour of the gym, he had to stop himself from making a face. The fastidious side of him was silently judging Hange.

It was obvious in the way Hange had prepared the bed and the way that most tables and furniture had space for a visitor to sit or rest that Hange had at least cleaned in anticipation.

But she's a horrible cleaner.

The sofa bed was prepared but the sheets were wrinkled. The trashcan was overflowing, a disturbing sign that Hange did not segregate her trash. The dining table was empty but a display table at the corner of the room took the brunt of what Levi guessed the dining table used to carry.

There were jackets messily folded on the display table and Levi recognized her schoolbag particularly by the keychain he had returned only a few days ago.

“Make yourself at home.” Hange dropped a few towels on the sofa bed before making her way to her own bedroom. “You can use the shower in the powder room. Also, what do you want for dinner?”

“Anything.” Levi answered. He was still bothered by the state of the room to demand much of anything. The food was free, the accommodation was free, he felt guilty just complaining internally.

Hange seemed unbothered by the shitty state of her “cleaned up room.” In fact she had seemed proud as she toured him around her house. As Levi watched Hange with her goofy smile as she played with her phone in between bites of the pizza they had ordered, he could not help but feel guilty for having harbored such negative thoughts when Hange seemed more relaxed than he had seen her in a while.

“What are you watching?” Levi asked, an attempt at conversation more than anything. There were things he had wanted to ask her, yet at that moment, he felt would seem too intrusive.

Hange turned her phone to him. The video Hange had been looking at was that figure skater glided to the rink and jumped into the air, rotating quickly.

“I didn’t know you liked figure skating.” Levi said, his eyes focused on the heart on the side, to see it filled over. Hange liked the video.

“I like a lot of sports. I definitely would have wanted to try skating as a kid. Maybe gymnastics or even track."

Levi tried to imagine Hange in a tutu or a leotard, having to hold back a snort as he did. “You never looked like the type to wear a dress.”

“I wouldn’t. But I’m pretty sure you know how fun it would be to be able to launch yourself up in the air like that. You’ve done it multiple times.”

Levi thought back to the interviews he had read, the answers she had made even since grade school. I want to see how people can fly . “Why didn’t you take a sport as a kid?”

The smile she had given him after was wry, a little sullen and Levi knew he must have hit something sensitive inside her. “Because my parents didn’t allow me. If I take gymnastics, I’d break my neck. If I take skating, I’d break my spine. If I take track and field, I’d break my knees." She explained in an almost mocking town." They never ran out of excuses when it came to sports. But when it came to academics, they were always shipping me off to some new competition.”

I wanted freedom. That afternoon in the cafe, Hange had answered it so casually, he had brushed it off as they continued to fill out the data sheets. As he listened to Hange explain her situation right there, Levi could not help but recall a twinge of sadness in Hange’s voice as she had said the word “freedom.”

“Don’t get me wrong, academics can be fun.” Hange said. “But I don’t think it’s ever going to beat the adrenaline rush of jumping or sprinting.”

“And that’s why you’re going to the gym a lot now.”

“I’m in college. My parents can’t stop me now. But yeah, my childhood is done. I don’t think I’ll ever get to your level, even when I train everyday.”

Levi had heard people say that before. The body of a child is flexible, the bones and muscles can still be easily molded. By the time people grow to be adults, their body is set and sure, they could probably jump or run along a track casually, collegiate competition and professional competitions were out of the question for most if not all people who start a sport as an adult.

"Maybe I can teach you?"

A Tale of Two Slaves

The Hange in Levi’s dreams was able to fly. She was the one who would be screaming as they glided through the air in those contraptions. She had the ability to launch herself up in the air, to flip, to spin, just like the athletes in the videos she constantly followed.

Hange wasn't at all out of shape either. In fact as he saw her in gym clothes and as he watched her do a few rounds around the empty track, he had to note that her form was good. Her physique and the cuts in her muscles were also well defined. He wouldn’t have been surprised if the Hange who was watching him do rounds of jumps as she took notes was the same Hange in his dreams.

The bar Hange had set for him was clearable with little to no effort. After clearing a few rounds, enough for Hange to be satisfied with the preliminary data, he took the stopwatch from her hands and guided her to the place he had positioned himself a while ago. He opted to adjust it a few centimeters lower, at a height he had seen less skilled jumpers back in high school clear with no problems.

He spent a few minutes going through the basics with her, particularly the method of softening a landing, having seen teammates from long ago get injured from that in particular.

“You’ve seen me jump countless times. I’m sure you can do it.” Levi assured. He knew that that last part was for himself more than anything. It pained him to see her nervous. Her face was a far cry from the Hange he knew.

She should know how to do it right?

Keeping the bar at its minimum and going through that landing with Hange a few times had turned out to be a good decision. It was in the way Hange had run to the bar, through the way her eyes went wild as she ran and as she landed right next to the bar that had fallen did Levi realize though, that Hange was terrified.

Terrified yet determined. Hange went back to her starting point and prepared herself for it a few more times.

“You don’t have that bounce in your step when you take off.” Levi bounced on the balls of his feet a few times for emphasis.

Hange gave him a quick nod before readying herself to run again. Levi could see she was tired. As Hange went through the motions pre jump, Levi could feel his heart beat faster. It took him a split second longer to realize why. Hange’s motions were wild and unsynchronized.

Levi did not say anything for fear of distracting her and possibly causing injury. He found himself running towards her instead. He was too late though. By the time he had arrived by the bars, she had fallen on it. One side of the bar flailed up in the air as Hange landed and she let out a loud gasp of surprise.

“Hey, you okay?” Levi asked, as he crouched next to her. He had kept his voice soft for fear of her hearing the panic in it.

Hange was lying face up on the mat, her light brown eyes looking longingly above her.

They had started training in the stadium at four in the morning, hours before the sun was scheduled to rise. It was only when Levi saw how unnaturally light Hange’s eyes were did he realized the ceiling above them was glass, and the sun had risen enough for the light to reflect on it.

“Must be nice to fly huh?” Hange voiced out before sitting back up again. “I’m fine but I think I bruised my shoulder.” She reached out for her right shoulder with her left hand and winced.

Having been jumping almost his whole life, Levi had forgotten for a while, how difficult the mechanics would be to pick up for the average adult. While gazing at Hange who had bent her head back and continued to watch the sunrise from the glass ceiling, Levi continued to reflect on it. If it were any other person, he probably would have even removed the bar as he thought them the mechanics.

The game changer in those particular circumstances was that it was Hange he was teaching, the subject of his dreams, the one who was flying with him from tree to tree in the forest. The one who was smiling and doing backflips, provoking him to chase her. For the life of him, Levi could not believe that she was not able to clear that jump.

A Tale of Two Slaves

The sullen mood of a while ago quickly dissipated to something a little more bearable when Levi suggested they play on the trampolines adjacent to the track.

It had felt ridiculous at first. As Hange continued to gaze upward, mumbling about wanting to fly and as Levi himself dealt with the disappointment of what just happened, it had seemed like a logical suggestion.

It was the most mindless way he could come up with to get both of them flying and jumping and maybe, get them both cheered up in the process. They only had to bounce a few times for it to be exciting. After a few bounces, Hange started to laugh, she started to scream in excitement.

The same excited scream he had heard so many times before in his dreams. Levi found himself staring at Hange as she jumped. The spark in her eye was brighter than it had ever been. Her cheeks were starting to flush from what could have been excitement or exhaustion. After what could have been a few more minutes of jumping, Hange landed on her ass and let out a loud laugh in between gasps.

“Something tells me you haven’t done this before.” Levi said as he settled on the floor of the trampoline next to her.

“Parents didn’t allow me.They said I’d break my ankle.” Hange answered, after she had gotten control of her ragged breathing. She was sweaty and flushed but she looked carefree.

That was the Hange Levi was familiar with. Before Levi even noticed it, he had brought out his hand and lightly touched her on the side of her arm. Oddly enough, she did not resist the light and quick squeeze he had given her. As Levi looked closely at her, he guessed she probably didn’t notice or didn’t care. He quickly let go of her arm, a few seconds after he had noticed the odd action. Before that, he had allowed himself a few seconds to process the warmth of her skin and the up and down movement that came with her heavy breathing. It was oddly calming and assuring.

She's real. She's alive. She's warm and she's breathing.

Soon after that, they were kicked out of the gym. Actually, no one had kicked them out. The Sunday gym goers though had taken up their territory on the track as they started their warmups. Levi and Hange soon realized their time was up. The rude awakening to that reality had felt like they were being kicked out anyway.

It also turned out the giant trampoline Levi suggested they played on was only for the children's use. One reason, Hange had never bothered to touch it even when she did frequent the gym.

Hange had sleepily explained that part to him as she sprawled herself on the sofa of her condominium that afternoon. The early morning in the gym had left her exhausted. She fell asleep soon after and Levi could not help but notice the smile on her face as she slept. He wondered if she usually smiled in her sleep.

Levi settled himself on one of the chairs around the dining table in a good position to watch her, busying himself by going through all the Instagram profiles Hange had followed, following them using his own account. Some of the videos were in slow motion and Levi found himself in that same blackhole as Hange had been in many times before, begrudgingly agreeing that Hange was right.

The slow motion videos in particular showed the detail. The way the legs make a slight bounce before launching up, the slight movements the body made as it is suspended in the air. Levi knew there was a lot of body coordination involved in getting the highest vertical possible. Seeing the body work together, the miniscule movements all cooperating to get the jumper spinning, flipping or twisting was oddly satisfying. Levi was distracted, so distracted the only thing that could break it was the vibration of his phone accompanying the banner on top.

Coach Greg.

Levi was once again pulled out of his blackhole. Of course he’d have to train. He had missed multiple trainings the past week due to the wound in his knee. He had also missed yesterday morning’s training having to meet Hange. Their season was starting in a few weeks and he was their best chance at a championship that year. Levi wasn’t too surprised that their coach was more than ready to run through drills with him on a Sunday night.

After a few minutes of digging through Hange’s unit, Levi managed to unearth a pile of post-its and a pen. Thank you for letting me stay over. Gotta run. He wrote. He kept it short and simple, knowing he would probably end up chatting with her soon anyway. He stuck it on the dining table, slung his overnight bag over his shoulder and silently left the room.

As he took the train back to campus, Levi continued on his little blackhole. A video was just released, taken in a tournament in Russia just a few days back.

Quad Queen Alexandra Trusova.

Levi did not know his way around figure skating jumps but he found himself watching it in slow motion anyway. The sped up version was surprising but the slow motion version that followed was mesmerizing. Levi counted four spins in the air, noting both the slight bounce before the jump and the bounce that followed the landing.

As Levi refreshed the video on his phone, he could not help but notice that Hange’s name still wasn’t among those who had liked the photo. Was she still asleep?

He could only imagine the smile she makes as she watches videos. He clicked the paper airplane icon below the videos, scrolled through the users and clicked send on Wingsoffreedom132. He made sure to add a wings emoji and a heart emoji, the way Hange had done in a few of the videos.

Somehow, after doing that, it became easier to imagine that goofy smile a little more vividly.

#levihan #levi ackerman #hange zoe #levi x hange #levi x hanji #fanfic

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