#he's the only one who can speak the language and he's got the highest emotional intelligence and loves his family the most

[grinchwrapsupreme]

The Durrells was so smart when they made Leslie the family member who winds up fluent in Greek because if it was any other character they would have been able to solve problems before they became plots

[sweetiecutie]

AHHHH I NEED MORE KEEGAN IN MY LIFE PLEASE could you write some Keegan h/c?

Pairing: Keegan P Russ x fem! Reader

Warnings: just general stuff, language, bad driving, NSFW under the cut, mdni, spit kink

A/n: it’s not a lot, but it’s better than nothing😌 Keegan is such a bad bitch, he deserves more attention

• Starting off - I’m pretty sure that Keegan would want a civil partner; someone not related to military and actually as far as possible from all the war stuff. First of all, it’s to avoid having constant fear of losing you on the battlefield - it’s a highly dangerous job, sometimes coming out alive is not only a matter of skills, but also pure luck. Secondly, the amount of trauma and emotional damage Keegan carries is more than enough for two people - he needs someone grounded and, well, more stable, someone who will be able to give him a piece of blissful domestic life, faraway from all the constant war Keegan lives in.

• Always referring to you as his girl in conversations with other people or when introducing you to someone new. “That’s Y/n - my girl” “That’s for my girl, she likes pink” “My girl doesn’t like the smell of smoke so I’m trying to quit”. It’s also a way of showing everyone that you’re his - letting others know from the very beginning that you’re taken and no one better try anything with his precious girl, otherwise a few bones will be broken.

• Gives off annoying older brother vibes. He’ll always playfully nag you, and it’ll only become worse once you start dating. Placing stuff on the highest shelves just to watch you struggle to get it yourself, drawing some silly doodles on your notes, messing with your makeup that you spent nearly an hour organising neatly, punching your favourite plushie just to get a rise out of you. And of course, constant bickering! “Keegan, can you pass me that book?” - “Fuck no” *passes the book*. “Keegan, I want some sushi” - “Well shit, what am I supposed to do about that?” *already placing an order online on his phone*

• Another amazing driver here. Keegan has horrible road rage, hitting the car horn aggressively, yelling most intricate insults out the window at whoever that happened to piss him off. I also have a feeling the he drives really fast and reckless, teasing you whenever you ask him to go slower - so you better always buckle up. And yes, he definitely got in a few minor accidents - scratching or leaving indents on other car’s bumper.

NSFW here~*•.

• And while we’re speaking of driving - just imagine giving him a sloppy noisy head while being stuck in a long traffic. Keegan is seething with hot anger, rolling his eyes on other drivers, lack of nicotine adding to his distress. And here’s a sweet lovely you trying your best to make Keegan feel at least a tad bit better, soothing his booming annoyance with your silky tongue swirling around throbbing shaft, cheeks hollowing to provide stronger suction, allowing Keegan to set the pace. And it seemed to work wonders on him - his nape against the headrest of driver’s seat, pretty blue eyes half lidded, staring at the car ceiling, adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows hard, feeling your throat wrapped around his cock.

• Oh, how nasty he is. Biggest spit kink ever - ordering to open your mouth nice and wide just to spit a thick globe of saliva in it, then closing your jaw and making sure that you swallow it. Will gladly let you spit in his mouth as well; loooves messy wet kisses - either during make out session or after you gave him head, slurping up your spit mixed with his cum from your lips and chin. Very often uses his spit as lube, or telling you to spit in his palm before spreading it all over his needy leaking cock, plunging it deep inside your warmth.

• A horndog. You never have to ask him if he’s in a right mood because yes, he is. He is always in the mood to fuck. Now, he always lets you know that it’s totally fine if you say no - Keegan will never pressure or guilt trap you into any kind of intimacy, no means no. You can always cuddle up together or do something fun like cooking, dancing or simply dorking around. But if your sexdrive happens to match his - oh boy, I’m sorry for your neighbours. Let’s just say - there’s hardly any surface in your flat that you didn’t fuck on.

• It’s nothing new, but this mug is cocky. Like, I don’t think he has unimaginably big dick - not small for sure, but not huge as well; but the way he works with it - a chef’s kiss. Keegan just knows how to angle his hips to massage that one spot within you, how you like your clit to be played with, how he quickly discovers and memorises all the sweetest spots of your body. “Aw, cumming already? I barely touched you, does it feel this good?” - he’d purr, curling three of his long fingers inside of your needy cunny, thumb flicking swollen clit while hot mouth sucks on perked up nipples.

• Daddy kink? Daddy kink😏

Likes, reblogs and comments are highly appreciated! Feedback is very important, give writers some love<3

[happy-beeeps]

Darling, I Would Do it Again

Pairing: Hunter x reader

Warnings: canon typical violence, injury, angst with a happy ending, language

Summary: After a mission goes south, Hunter risks it all to get you back.

Thanks @starboytech for the request! Birthday requests still open!❤️����🫶

Four walls, one floor, one metal slab you assume is a bed, one small chamber pot you’ve decided not to investigate.

One broken rib, three gashes, one puffy lip, one bruised ego.

You’ve been itemizing your surroundings, counting your affects, trying to keep some semblance of composure. It’s what you’d learned in med training, the effects of shock can be the sneakiest killer in a crisis. From the moment that Trandoshan had grabbed you, you’d been doing your best to keep yourself on the other side of a panic attack.

To say the mission had gone sideways would’ve been a colossal understatement. It was well and properly fucked. Truly FUBAR as Wrecker would say. What was supposed to be a simple grab and go of some cargo (and information) from a small collection of pirates had turned into the squad attempting to infiltrate a fully operational pirate base, who dabbled in trading and selling live cargo. CID’s intel had been dated at best, or designed for failure at worst. The last thing you remembered was pushing Omega towards Wreckers outstretched hands, as Hunter screamed, clamoring for you as the squad ran towards the exit they had blasted open. You were running, legs striding, until you felt a singe, then burning pain in your calf. The tranq was fast, your vision fading to black before you even knew what had hit you. 

That was, by your count, three rotations ago. The pirates had scarcely been by, only to throw food at your cell and offer vulgar remarks. From what you had gathered, you were the only live cargo aboard this section of the ship. There was no way of knowing where you were going, and no way of knowing what awaited you when you got there.

Honestly, you hoped Hunter and the rest of the batch had figured you a lost cause. You were vastly underprepared for any siege, and the danger these pirates posed to Omega made you sick. You had looked hell in the eyes before, and you’d do it again to keep them safe.

Hunter was, in Tech’s words, displaying the worst show of territorial protectiveness a clone had shown in his memory. In Echo’s words, he was kriffing irate. He hadn’t spoken since you were taken, instead pacing aimlessly through the hull of the Marauder, eyes glazed over, jaw tightened. Not even Omega had dared speak to him in this state, instead coloring pictures of their small family to give you when you returned. Tech had warned them that even with the tracker Wrecker had chucked onto the ship, they needed to be practical, but the look that flashed across Hunter’s eyes had softened the rest of the statement into a whisper. He was going to get you back, non debatable. Even as the ship blurred through hyperspace, tailing the ship to the best of their abilities, he had willed a thought to you. I’m coming for you cyar’ika.

One broken rib, one gash, two cuts, one broken heart.

You knew that even as the ship touched down, there was no way they were coming, you had hoped that even. Still, the thought that you’d never see them again, never lay in Hunter’s arms again, had you fighting back tears. A different pirate, a human man with a cybernetic eye that reminded you all too well of a clone you had befriended so many moons ago, had warned you that when they had completed inventory, you’d be taken to the highest bidder.

You hadn’t shown any crack of emotion the whole time, but wept the moment he left. It had all gone so wrong, so fast.

The ship rocked for a moment, a commotion coming from far down the hall.  You had seen large crates of merchandise when you had first snuck aboard, and figured something had merely snapped loose. It wasn’t until the telltale sounds of blaster fire that you had even begun to think about this hell coming to an end.

It was coming closer, moving towards you. The sounds of yelling and blaster fire and body after body hitting the floor. In a flash, the door was flung open, and you caught sight of the silhouette of Hunter, Echo, and Wrecker standing against the smoke and sparks in the air. 

Echo had moved to a panel near you, where you assumed the controls to the cells were held, and Wrecker stood near the door, ready for incoming threats. Echo had gotten the door opened in a mater of moments, and was now working on closing the main blast door to the detention area. Hunter had moved in immediately, taking one, two, three, big steps and closing the gap between you, careful to press you against his chest on the opposite side of your break.

“You came for me.” You wept, tears flooding from your eyes freely, “but Omega, the squad,”

“There is nothing in any system that could ever keep me from you, you understand? I would never stop looking for you, whoever had you would never know peace.” His words were rushed, angry, but his smoothing hands against your hair told you all you needed to know. Hunter was terrified, terrified that they’d have come all this way for you to already be gone, or worse, come to collect your corpse. You wanted to badly to rip off his helmet and kiss him, but given the circumstances, held back.

“This is cute and all, but we gotta move!” Wrecker’s voice came in loud as Echo managed to get the opposite blast door open. The four of you took off running, Hunter pressing against you as he cushioned any impact on your already aching body. It was working, you thought, whatever distraction Wrecker had planned and whatever interference Tech was running was working. You’d nearly made your way to the door Echo had opened, to what you assumed the rendezvous point was, when you were met with company. Most shots were met with a fast response from the batch, but a few were close for comfort. It was like deja vous, you were so close to freedom.

In a moment that had to have lasted no longer than four seconds, you heard Hunter turn around, before yelling “no!” And sidestepping in front of you.

The shot that landed in his chest would have hit you squarely, with no armor. You screamed his name, and Wrecker wasted no time picking up his downed brother, tossing him over his shoulder as if he was weightless. Echo slid into Hunter’s spot, urging you forward as you all moved to where the Marauder was waiting, engines already firing as Omega motioned you all foreword, eyes wide.

One shattered chest plate, one nasty bruise, two broken ribs. He was alive. He wasn’t wounded. You tried to repeat these truths to yourself as you worked on him on the tiny pull down stretcher the Marauder had. All your years as a med never made caring for those you loved any easier. You shakily applied bacta patches to the angry bruised spot on his chest, anxious to heal it before any internal bleeding caused irreparable damage. Tech is expertly piloting the ship away from danger, and last you saw Omega was tucked snuggle between Wrecker’s arms as he attempted to distract her from any negative thinking with Lula. Echo was up front with Tech, so it left you alone with Hunter.

You knew he’d pull through the second you removed the plastoid. Sure, his chest plate had been shot to smithereens, but it had done it’s job. Your own chest ached at the reality of how much danger you’d actually been in. How much danger he had risked just to bring you home. 

His wounds were patched, bacta slowly working its way through his body. All that was left to do was wait.

You weren’t sure how long had passed, the inhabitants of the Marauder had moved to a restful sleep while you were keeping a vigil for Hunter. He woke up with a shaking breath, eyes wide, hand shooting out to grip the side of the stretcher, your name breathing from his lips like a desperate prayer.

“Shh, I’m here, I’m here,” you crooned, leaping up from your chair and moving to stand next to him, hands running across his sweat-damp face and hair. Your own wounds had been patched in the meantime, and your sudden movement had made you wince, but it didn’t matter now that you had tangible proof he was okay.

“Couldn’t leave you, had to come back for you,” he breathed, his eyes settling as he locked with yours. He pushed up a bit, leaning against the metal wall of the ship while he focused on you. “I couldn’t live with myself knowing I was the reason you were hurt.”

“Hunter, with all my love, how do you think I’ve felt waiting for you to wake up?”

“I’d take a blaster shot for you for less, you know that,” he sighed, but offered you an apologetic smile. The two of you settled into silence for a beat, you simply tracing your fingers over his knuckles while he watched you, content to see you alive and in his arms.

“I’d do all of this again, you know. Wouldn’t change a thing.”

Your brows furrowed as you looked at him, “What do you mean?”

“You know, to end up with you, to have you with me,” he brought your hand to his face, lips pressing sweetly on each of your knuckles, “I’d go through any kind of hell just for, just for the chance to have you in my life. Every banthashit choice, I’d do it all for you ten more times, cyar'ika.”

You had no words at first, just leaned over to him and tried to channel all of your possible love into a kiss along his hairline. The words came to you, slowly, and you murmured back, “I’d have them put me back in it. All for you.”

[scp-10000]

I’m playing Pokemon Emerald cause I was never able to play a Pokemon game when I was younger.  It’s going great aside from me randomly naming my Pokemon after Minecraft Youtubers and starting an au.

Here’s the most current screenshot of my team, and now I shall share some of the thoughts about the au I accidentally made that I’m also using for my in game lore where I basically don’t really exist, but that’s another thing.

Tis a bit long.

How the team formed.

Tango first met Skizz on Route 102, and after basically knocking the crap out of each other, they laughed it off and became friends.

They later found Impulse and Etho in the forest before Rustburo.  Impy and Etho were basically just chasing each other around a tree, and thought the duo were cute and asked them to join.

They found Joker in the cave on Dewford Island, but it took a while to even talk to him cause Joker just kept on poking Skizz and making dumb comments replaying to him and running away.

They finally find Zedaph in the desert on Route 111 fighting a Glalie and a poacher all on his own after the Glalie knocked out all the Vibrava and Flygon.

And now for some random facts about them.

They built a tandem bike.  Skizz handles the front pedals, and Tango handles the back ones.  Joker sits on the front handle bars holding the Pokenav so they all have a vague idea where to go.  Zed sits on the back handle bars so if someone tries to attack them close range, Zed can hold him out and have him chomp them.  Etho and Impy sit in a baby bike trailer in the back.

Tango will not stop raising the bar.  Like he’s highest level, and every time he steps up to give the others a break from battling, he only gets stronger and raises the bar even higher.

Etho’s natural eye color is blue, very out of the norm for Poochyeans/Mightyenas, however his left eye is red, and he has a scar over it.  Most people who first meet him think he got that scar in a cool way.  Impulse will tell you that Etho tripped and hurt his eye on a sharp rock, and he had to take Etho to the Pokemon Center.

A lot of people think Etho’s a lot more intimidate than he is.  He’s not.

After joining the team, Skizz saved him once, twice, 5 times, at least 10 times.  Etho is waiting for an opportunity to save Skizz once.

When Skizz evolved into a Lombre, a patch of blue stayed around his right eye.  Most of the younger Lotads he’s run across think it’s the coolest thing ever.

Impulse is wary of Sevipers because one named Helsknight decided to use him as basically a poison tail paddle ball.  Impy’s shed skin helped him from being physically hurt too bad, but the mental and emotional hurt hit full force.

The usual red and blue sections on Impy’s wings, and his eyes are purple.

Joker used to steal stuff from campers back when he lived in the cave.  It’s how he got his jester hat.  He stopped after joining the team.

He also has a section of the cave full of stolen tripods, and he forgot where it was when he left home.

Zedaph stubbornly refuses to evolve stating he does not want to gain a 4x weakness to ice.  The only reason he might consider it is if Groudon, Kyoger, AND Raquaza were all fighting, and there was no other way to stop them.

Despite refusing to evolve, he has these little pink bumps on his back.  Etho teases him by saying they’re his little wing bumps.

Zed’s eyes are basically what I’m calling Dragon Type Purple.

Tango is the only one who can fully speak the human language, and as such has taken it upon himself to not only shop but advocate for all his friends.

Joker and Zed can partially speak human, and they have been taking lessons from Tango.

[leatherbookmark]

reading (via gtrans) mxtx’s ending remarks, and while i obviously don’t speak the language, i can’t help but think they sound... well, less like meta/what you’re Supposed to think about the characters, and more like an author chatting about their characters, a bit jokingly.

i’m also wondering if the bit about wgxn being something something moral, ideal characters came from WiFi和汪叽都是非常理想的人格...? because... it’s interesting. 理想人格 does mean, according to baike, “ the moral perfect model advocated by a certain society or class, and is generally considered to be a perfect personality image. It is the highest embodiment of the moral requirements and moral ideals of a certain society”. Howeverst, i can’t help but notice it says 理想的人格. i’m wondering if it’s just a different way of saying the same thing, or something completely different. again, when it comes to chinese, my only source is google translate and my feeble brain, but considering what she talks about next, it might? could be, i’m not sure? ideal/perfect personality. 理想 means “ideals, dreams”, but as an adjective it means “ideal”, like ideal society, ideal girlfriend, perfect day for [event], etc. and what she talks about next is “i like wwx, but if i had to pick a boyfriend, i’d go for lwj”. it gave me some real “rin matsuoka, perfect man, super recommended!” vibes, lol. (does anyone remember free!...?)

the part about lxc kinda makes me laugh, because mxtx begins it with “idk why people thought he’s 腹黑而睿智. 睿智 means “wise and prescient=clairvoyant, able to predict things before they happen. 腹黑 means “sweet and warm on the outside, but scheming and devious on the inside”. iirc, it refers to people initially thinking lxc’s Complicit, which, I WISH. then she says that knowing his brother’s heart doesn’t mean he knows everyone else’s, and that being a sect leader doesn’t mean one is 心思深沉 and 明察秋毫.

googling the former got me a post in which someone explained that basically it’s someone who’s in control of their feelings/emotions to the point of making use of them to manipulate others? kinda like some people have pointed out jgy to be. for example, if someone’s scared, they can draw from this fear to appear scared, vulnerable and fragile, to appeal to people’s emotions. at the same time, such a person is very smart, good at judging others, and determined to achieve their goals. 明察秋毫, meanwhile, means “to perceive the minutest details”.

so, rather than what i feel people interpreted as “why did you think lxc is smart, he’s actually a himbo!”, it’s “no, actually lxc isn’t secretly a genius manipulator underneath!”. apparently fans thought that was the case, and were rather disappointed when they found out the truth. their loss, more lxc for me!

for jgy, she said 瑶妹，好吧，偶尔也会觉得有点可怜哦不过对不起还是请你光荣狗带, which gtrans says is “Yaomei, well, sometimes I feel a little pitiful, but I'm sorry, I still ask you to honor the dog”. the last part had me ?????, i googled it, and sighed a little about the possibilities of chinese as a language. the last two hanzi, 狗带, literally mean “dog leash”, but they’re pronounced... gou dai... (this still doesn’t necessarily mean she dislikes him/that fans are meant to dislike him)

as for nhs, based on the number of duibuqi’s, mxtx feels more sorry for him than for jgy :’) she said she’s had to delete a lot of scenes with him, and a good 搭檔 partner/workmate? did nhs also have a sms-like sidekick? well, “I'll see if the new revision can fix it...“, she says. hm!

[notmuchtoconceal]

You know who you kind of remind me of, at least from a certain angle? Like a ginger Shel Silverstein. It's not just the bald head and the beard. It's the laid-back confidence that bleeds through the photos, too. I was thinking about reading a biography on him, but honestly? From what little I know, dude seemed to be living his best life. Wrote quirky poems, drew tons of cartoons, played tons of music, never married, fucked thousands of women, was basically a Renaissance man without trying to be. The man just oozes casual, carefree confidence when I read his interviews. He also strikes me as someone who is basically born to perform for people and that's his lifeblood. What an absolute god. His interviews are so good. Like people will ask him if he's trying to emulate someone, and he'll just be like, "Nah." Or someone will ask him if he's surprised that The Giving Tree won a ton of rewards, and he'll be like, "nah, I already knew I was good." No wonder he got laid so much. When I say you kinda remind me of him, believe me it's meant as the highest compliment. But you've definitely got your own thing going, too. --"Ask Friend"

You're quite good at delineating essence without essentializing. This is emblematic of a clear, yet sharply-honed perception which I believe is the natural state of all thinking men and the aim of all language arts.

That one can "see" something which isn't readily apparent or always visible, and bring it into awareness through a process of comparison.

It's a different usage of the art from simple input/output which is the basis of action/command or typical announcement. You could say it's like kindling, in that language must establish friction against itself to gain heat, acceleration, immolation, and this is why the arts of oratory or polemic are so easy to liken to masturbation ;-- and yet as we men who partake of the fires of the flesh know well, this is likewise an act which tends to climax in eruption and a corresponding feeling of death.

I think every time one speaks plainly or intimately, they are burning a part of themselves. Some obscurity, some denser coagulation, has been broiled to a scorch by the heat of reason, like a blowtorch fixed to caked-on grime around the serrations of a twisted welt-to-be; the stain growing thinner and brighter, the filth fumigating the chamber as if transmuted to incense until, at last, the light of revelation bursts through!

Which is to say thank you again for the kind message.

I've always been quietly fascinated by not only the cover, but the concept itself of "Where the Sidewalk Ends". Being such a rational child, a part of me thought it was ludicrous. This notion of a sidewalk as some enchanted and unspooling thing, like Dorothy's Yellow Brick Road. A sidewalk was simply a procession of concrete blocks arranged linearly between sections of street and lawn, a quite typical public works utility -- some of which (particularly in suburban locales) may terminate quite abruptly for reasons of space, budget, or none whatsoever.

Yet, at the same time -- (to think that as a child, I could struggle with poetry!) this absurd and apocalyptic image of two children peering over an edge well-protruding over a void while their dog struggles to hang on. I can't tell you how I must have rationalized it to myself as a boy, but it seemed that my awareness of the sidewalk as a construction (which wasn't at all remarkable) was baked into the unreality of this image, for the emotion highlighted was in fact the limit of linear reason itself.

[sharlulu]

𝐒𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬

CONFESSIONS OF A SELFISH PERSON tw: violence, abuse, mention of drugs, confinement. Wolf Keum x fem!reader

You and him were so different. While he always appeared so free and careless, indifferent to the rules of the world, acting only on one's desires, you constrained yourself, chained down by the responsibilities and duties of an exemplary student and a responsible civilian. When did it start? Since when were you so obsessed with perfection? Since when did you strive to be so elegant? It was as if you had to have complete control over every inch of your body: from the tips of your fingers to every muscle of your back and face. You've taught yourself to speak eloquently, use complicated words, learn the art of subtle manipulation and persuasion. Yes, you've made elegance your sharpest weapon. It has become a part of you, a habit that couldn't be changed.

"My daughter, you won't disappoint me, won't you? Unlike that hateful man you would do anything for me, right? My dear, precious princess, you must always love me"

"Why? Why did you only get an 80 on your last test? It can't be that that's your highest potential, I know that you can do so much more! Then why? Why? Do you not care about me anymore? Do you not love me anymore? Didn't I tell you that as my daughter you have to be perfect? Or else why did I have to suffer so much just to give you a chance to live in this world?

I don't want to do this, I truly don't, Y/n. But it seems I should punish you a little bit. I've been too nice to you lately. How about this, I'll cut down your freedom and regulate your friendships more, alright? I am sure that you're like this because of their bad influence. After all, you had got a perfect score every single time before you met them. So listen to your mother, dear, I know what's best for you after all"

Is this love?

You've never met your father before, nor seen his face. Mother never mentioned his name either. She called him different titles: a hateful bastard, that man, unfaithful monster, horrendous sinner, a liar. Your mind thought of countless possibilities as to why your parents' relationship ended up so twisted and sick. Nonetheless, you were afraid to ask your mother, perhaps, in fear of losing her forever. She was your only family, so you loved her, that was natural, wasn't it? It was your duty to love her after all. But sometimes you hated her with every fiber of your being. That hate, however, had nowhere to pour out to. It stirred inside your locked box of emotions just waiting for an opportunity to burst out of its confinement.

It wasn't hard for you to study. Math came to you as easy as breathing. It was so strict yet flexible at the same time. It allowed you to describe the whole world. The "language of the universe" or so you liked to call it.  Perhaps the closest thing to perfection that you could possibly name. There was a certain beauty to it, something otherworldly, something so detached from the mundane.

You had a good memory. So good that you remembered everything you saw, read, heard. Even things you wanted to forget. There's no denying how useful that ability was to studying. Perhaps because of your intelligence mother took notice of you. She paid attention to you, even praised you at first.

Is this love?

Now that you think about it, she never saw you for who you were. She only saw a perfect daughter, a doll, a puppet to turn into what she could only dream of becoming. Your intelligence was the only thing that mattered to her. So her outburst about your imperfect score shouldn't  have come as a surprise. Yet you were still saddened. It felt as if your heart, which was already full of thousand wounds that you helplessly tried to fix with tiny plasters every night, was once again trampled on and broken into dust. Did you want her to console you? Comfort you, tell you that it was alright, treat you like a human being and not a genius for once? Perhaps. But she mercilessly cut away all threads of hope you had. You stood there in a trance, listening to her. Then you went out of the house to the streets. Aimlessly wondering about the desolate path. Where is everyone? Somebody? Please, I don't-

*Thump*

You turn to your left. A boy about your age was continuously hitting a vending machine. His violet ruffled hair swayed back and forth while he thrashed the poor  thing.

Wolf Keum. You've definitely seen him before, heard the rumors about him. But on that day you first interacted with him.

He was free. For that you envied him and admired him at the same time. How did he do that? Why didn't he give a damn about societal rules? How was he so honest to his desires, why was he so unrestrained by the world? Oh how jealous you were. Perhaps that's why there was no fear in you when you came up to him that day.  Enviousness and reverence were the only thing in your heart back then.

  "Could you please stop doing that?"

He looked at you incredulously. Yet no words left his mouth.

   "You are ruining public property and it's not getting you anywhere." A polite smile graced your lips.

   "If you paid for something and it got stuck there, I can help you get it out. Hitting the vending machine doesn't do anything to solve your  dilemma, don't you agree?"

His grey eyes scrutinized you for a moment and then he stepped away. "Do whatever you want " – it seemed to convey.

To be entirely honest, you weren't sure if your method would work. You squatted  down a bit and pushed the flap where people normally collected their items  at. Then you let the flap snap back down.  That was enough for his purchase to fall onto your hands. Standing back up,  you gave it to him.

 "There you go, no need to thank me~ But that's an old machine you've encountered. Newer machines are equipped with sensors  specifically to deal with this kind of problem. I wouldn't buy here anymore if I were you. There's no knowing whether something like this will happen again and what I did doesn't work all the time."

He still didn't say anything. Was he mute? No, that couldn't be true, he was Wolf Keum after all.

"I know. Thanks."

What a succinct answer.

 Was that a fateful encounter? You also lived nearby and took the same route to school. You just had to walk a tad longer than him, as your school was further.

You were the one who always approached him, striked conversations with him, tried to get him to talk or at least acknowledge your presence. If at first he was annoyed, then after a while he actually replied to you.

"Do you want to hear the music of space?"

"The hell is that?"

You chuckled at his inquiry.

"NASA created an instrument to hear sounds from space. I know, it sounds weird, outer space should be awfully quiet, right? Except it isn't. Sound does exist in magnetic vibrations. And the NASA team just converted it to a frequency that human ear can hear. Incredible, isn't it?"

"I have to listen to it first? Can't have an opinion on it, never heard of it before. How the hell do you even know that stuff?"

"Eh, internet is an interesting thing~"

At first you approached him just because of simple curiosity. However, your instinct told you to stay. And after a while you were finally starting to heal, feel alive and grateful for the chance to exist. However, your newfound salvation was as fragile as glass, bound to break at any moment.

Your relationship with him was definitely strange. Yet in his presence you were the most comfortable. You didn't mind that he always got into fights, you didn't mind that wherever he was, trouble always ensued. As long as you were with him, you could get a taste of his freedom, his world. In exchange you would help him get away from the consequences. Quite a balanced team you were. He who came up with ideas, you who thought out a plan, and both of you who would do some of the wildest things for fun. Being with him was liberating. He could listen to your talk, silently acknowledging you, ask  questions that made the gears in your brain turn. It was nice having someone to share all your knowledge with. Someone that never pretended to listen, someone that was genuinely interested. After all, Wolf Keum was honest to a fault.

"I've always wanted to ask you this," you begin on one of your regular walks.

He turned his attention to you.

"How do you curse so easily? How do you use those foul words without a second thought? How does it come as natural as breathing to you? When I try to do it, I suddenly become so conscious and awkward. As if  they don't suit me and rather than frightening they come of as bizarre?"

He laughed uncontrollably at that, while giving you a "are you serious" look.

"I asked a genuine question there! What's so funny in wanting to know more about your delinquent  lifestyle? It's true that I don't understand much about your way of doing things."

"Just don't overthink, I guess. Nothing else to it."

It was strange hearing that. As your existence was composed of carefully thought out and perfectly executed things. There wasn't a single moment when you didn't think about what you said or did.  As if you were always looking at yourself from afar, trying to find and fix all mistakes, no matter how small they were. And you liked that. You liked having a sense of purpose, a sense of responsibility. You liked walking with your back straight, head held high. You liked speaking articulately and confidently. You liked being able to convey your thoughts clearly while being refined. Elegance was beautiful and it was also one of your sharpest blades. Wolf knew that, so he found your attempts at behaving like a thug humorous.

　 *Slap*

It was the first time Mother hit you.

"You ungrateful brat! You say that you  go the library to study and yet what you do?! Hang out with a bastard? How could you lie to me like that?"

She was crying. Hot tears run down her cheeks and fell onto your bewildered face. It felt as if time itself stopped after her outburst.

She then dragged you, despite all your protests, to the basement of your house. Your muffled screams for help where shut away in a damp, dark room. It was terribly cold. For the first time in a while you felt genuine fear and hatred towards your mother. The box of rage that lay dormant for so long was once again threatening to open.

And yet you did nothing in the end. There was nothing you could do. The basement was empty. Just occasional sounds of water dripping, spiders crawling. There was no light, no way to measure time. It was as if the whole world had forgotten about you and you were doomed to rot there for eternity. You tried unlocking the door, yet your attempts were all futile. At first, the isolation was bearable. But after some time (you couldn't tell if minutes or hours or days have passed) it became intolerable. Without stimulation you felt like dying. You were hungry, thirsty and so, so lonely. You wanted to talk to somebody, you wanted somebody to save you from that place. You would give up anything just to see your mother again. After what felt like an eternity she finally let you out. She cried, apologized, hugged you endlessly.

"My little girl, I'm sorry. Mother had to do it, it was necessary. My Y/n, you have to understand, mother does it for your benefit. I didn't want to, but you had to be punished".

It was the first time she showered you with so much love. Is this love? You felt so happy, as if all your rage had never existed.  That feeling was addicting.

And yet you didn't stop hanging out with Wolf. You had to be a good daughter, so why were you lying to your mom? It wasn't hard to fool her, you just had to be more careful with your actions. Once again you realized how different you two were. Wolf would never lie to himself nor to others. He was honest, brutally so. And you were full of contradictions. You wanted to be a good girl for your mother, yet at the same time you wanted to be free. So in the end you could only resort to hiding the truth.

*Thud*

You fell to the floor. Mother's job wasn't going so well so she took it out on you. She always hit places that could be easily covered  by clothes. Your stomach, your back were all in purple bruises. You knew how to treat your injuries, you were the one who bandaged Wolf after each of his fights after all.

This was quite a frequent occurrence now. At first, you wondered if everything was somehow your fault, if this was retribution for all your lies. Then you understood that everything was inevitable from the very start. Mother's love is this love? was twisted, she always apologized to you after her every outburst but she never stopped either. Did she even love you in the first place? Or were you just a rag doll  for her to vent her anger on in the end? You couldn't understand. Your grades were good, you were well-behaved in front of her, so why? Why her love like that?

No, it was never love. It can't be love. Love is kind, not cruel, liberating, not constraining, strong, not weak. Love gives you wings, it doesn't chain you down. Love isn't blind, it gives you eyes to see. Love is gentle like the wind, it is never forceful, nor coercive. To love means to see the worst of somebody and still love them nonetheless.

Then what about your mother? Your mother closed her eyes on your suffering, refused to see you for who you were, didn't accept your imperfections. The love that your mother tried to shove onto you now looked like the twisted symptoms of a sickening society, a black stain in place of motherhood, selfishness masquerading as affection. Indeed, infatuation and obsession aren't love. You were foolish to think that those things were natural.

Then what about yourself? Did you .. love.. mother? Or was that just a mere delusion that you chose to believe. A defensive mechanism, as one would say. Did you hypnotize yourself to "love" her so that the sufferings would be more bearable? Perhaps not. She was your mother and your feelings towards her were real. Maybe you still saw some kindness and courage in that cowardly person. You loved her...

Of course, sometimes you hated her. Yet you never retaliated. The memory of being locked in that place was still so fresh in your mind. Perhaps your biggest fear was being abandoned by her, your only family, and be left completely alone.

　

"Wolf, we have to study. We must. That's....the only way, our only escape, our salvation."

"What's up with you all of a sudden?  'Tis a motivational speech or something? "

"No, it's not. I'm always serious and that was a genuine plea."

"What's up with you lately? You are acting strange." He looked at you with a hint of worry

You two were standing in a desolate alleyway. To be more exact, Wolf was sitting on the opponent he had just mercilessly beaten up and you were standing nearby, offering him tissues and sweets.

"I...Please promise me, that you won't abandon your studies. You're smart, don't let this thing here," you pointed to your head, "disappear. You may not understand right now, but it's the only way out! " You sounded so desperate. In a way, you wanted to reassure yourself, convince yourself that it was true. That you were correct in making studying the most important thing in your life. That you weren't wrong in placing all your hopes and dreams into it. That the thing that your mother valued most in you wasn't useless.

Wolf looked at you, as if seeing you for the first time. You were always so composed, you've never raised your voice like this before. Right now you seemed to be at a loss for words. As if you didn't know what to say, what to think. It was the first time he saw you so agitated.

"Okay."

You sighed in relief

The days continued on. Life was so dull before you met him, the invisible chains that constricted your world were only shattered to dust, when you started hanging out with Wolf. He was always in the spotlight, it was impossible not to see him for he shined oh so brightly. He showed you his world, he freed you. Even though you only met a year ago, he was already your closest friend.

He was so strong, unbreakable even. A monster that always stood back up no matter the number of hits. Sometimes you wondered as to how he could do that but you never gave it much of a thought. And that was your biggest mistake. The signs were all there, you just didn't notice them.

During night you sneaked out of your room to the playground  in your neighborhood. You didn't expect to meet anyone, yet  there sat Wolf. His eyes were dull, his head was bleeding profusely. There were bandages laying around, it seemed that he had tried to fix himself and failed.

"Just what happened to you?! Who did this? Wait, let me help you, don't move..."

You were crying, tears streamed down your face as you tried to bandage him, comfort him. You've never seen him like this. You were sure that nobody  could've gotten him into this state. He was so strong after all, just who in the world could break him? 

He finally started to talk after a while.

An abusive father. Alcohol. Usage of drugs. A psychotic episode. A beatdown.

These words flew through your ears as you came to a sudden realization. You laughed. You and him weren't so different after all. Your mother, his father — your situations were so similar that it was ironic. The rage that you had so deeply sealed inside the box finally burst out. It manifested itself in the form of cold fury. Wrath enveloped you and the gears in your brain turned.

"Let's kill him."

Perhaps you saw your mother in his father so you merged those two together. You couldn't kill your mother, if you did that, you would truly lose the last bits of humanity that you had. But you could help him kill his father and at the same time liberate some of your horrendous desires.

"Hmm, what shall the cause of death be~ Let's say... heroin overdose? A pretty common death for the likes of him. We will kill him with the very drug that he adores."

"What? What the hell are you talking about?" Confusion filled his beautiful grey eyes.

"It will be like putting him to sleep," you continued. "Except that when sleeping, our body remembers how to breathe. In case of heroin overdose your body forgets. He's so ill already, it won't take much for his respiratory system to shut down. Perhaps it will even result in heart failure. What do you think? Quite a merciful murder, don't you agree?"

"How about the consequences? What the f*ck should we do with that?! You think it's that easy to kill someone?!"

"Yes."

You take a deep breath.

"Wolf, your father was a nobody. He is remembered by no one, why would the police care about him enough to investigate it properly? With how corrupt they are in this place, I'm sure that we can fool them."

"Let's kill him."

It was strange for you to use your intelligence like this. And yet from start to finish you never once felt remorseful. Wolf, too, was strangely calm when you two planned the murder of his own father. You thought of an alibi, planned the time, the place, got all the necessary components. All to execute a perfect crime.

It was surreal. That year you two had committed an unforgivable sin, the horrendous crime of manslaughter. And nobody knew. Only you two bore the weight and guilt of murder. That made you even closer than before. For now you shared a secret that both of you would take to your graves.

　

"I want to be remembered. I don't want to be a nobody. I want people to mourn my death, I don't want to be forgotten."

"What's so bad in that? You are always worrying about such complicated things. Chill out. Don't tell me that you are starting a 3 hour long monologue on the meaning of life again."

"Oh please don't be so boring. That's why we are given 80 years of life, right? To do enough, to be remembered. I don't want to waste away and end like a certain person.  You think so too, don't you?"

"I guess so."

A comfortable silence enveloped you two. In fact, you've always loved these little walks through the night city. In these moments you've always felt the most free. Free to do what you want, free to talk about anything on your mind. And his presence made you reassured.

"You know, I've always wanted to be a doctor. A surgeon to be exact."

"Pffft, what, to save people? Now that I think about it, it kinda suits you. Kinda."

"Well, that was certainly very rude of you. I won't deny that I want to have their gratitude. But my reason is much more selfish than just saving people. You know, inside the operating room you have so much power over somebody's life," you closed your eyes. "People entrust everything to you, believe in you. It's funny how much control you can have over them. Whether they die or live depends on you. You are almost like a god?"

"You sound like you gonna murder your patients..."

"How could you! With all due respect, you are much more likely to murder someone!"

"And you are more likely to get away with it."

"That's ... true...So let's promise each other. To never go that far again."

You knew that after that day you both lost something extremely precious, something that couldn't be regained back.

Mother finally got another job and decided to relocate to another town.

"Let's stay friends forever"  was your last promise to him. "Let's not forget each other" was your request. He was probably the most important person in the world to you, your first friend, the person who had shaped you to be who you were nowadays. He was your savior.

"I wonder what kind of person he will become?"

A/n: yay, that was so long haha. This is my first fic(and  probably my  last), so please don't judge Σ(゜゜) It existed in my mind for quite a long time and I finally decided to write everything down. Basically the story takes place before the events in the webtoon. Mainly because I had no idea how to integrate Y/n into the webtoon story. So I guess this is like Wolf's past? I love this man so much, although he is a really bad person. But he is so charismatic? Somehow the relationship between Y/n and Wolf turned out to be more platonic than romantic, but I hope that wasn't too much of a problem (this author can't write romance although reads so many).

At first, I wanted to write y/n as a cold, aloof genius. Yet somewhere along the line she became so  flawed( a little selfish, has an inferiority complex, terribly lonely). I think, because she understands that, she strives to become perfect. As if that façade can mask all her flaws beneath. And because her life is constructed by lies, she finds Wolf's honesty very entrancing.

Wah, I love this man–

[bakugohoex]

“you come here often then?” “well considering i work here, yes”

pairing: satoru gojo x female reader

cw: fluff and language

word count: 2100+

information: the great conjunction collab masterlist by @suna-reversed

a/n: ugh yeah have fun reading this, it’s probably crap because i waffled a bit and made gojo become an idiot

summary: in which gojo can’t help but have an infatuation with you as soon as he sees you through the glass window of a restaurant, now finally meeting you he can’t help but become an unaware teenager in front of you

↞ back to jujutsu kaisen masterlist

Gojo would hate to admit it but seeing the way you swerved past the customers at the restaurant was a dance in his eyes. The way you easily carried three plates on your arms and still had a calm and collected face. Even if he was a powerful jujutsu sorcerer the ability you had to still chat to people even when you were on your knees picking up the glass one of the customers happened to drop infatuated the man.

It wasn’t like he was busy, Yuji, Nobara and Megumi had decided to go out into the city and being the responsible adult he was he tagged along. Even if he had no idea where the three had gone, he had better things to watch as he stared through the window, any person inside would have noticed him. He was almost gawking but the way they either dismissed his wide mouth or genuinely couldn’t see him was an issue they could handle.

He continued watching you speak to the customers, the black blouse hugging your form as you took another order. The restaurant seemed busy, even if it was the lunch rush, the way you easily handled it with that perfect pretty smile. How could Gojo not stare at you, with those bright eyes that filled him with a passion he hadn’t felt in a long time. Maybe it was stupid to go in, to ask for your number, he was a Jujutsu Sorcerer for one thing but the fact he didn’t even know your name would make it seem creepy.

He stook to watching through the window, occasionally going on his phone to not cause any disruption with his clear blue gaze at your form. He looked up watching how you continued to skim past customers, talk to the customers, even cooing at the babies.

Hearing a loud crash behind him, he turned to be met with the three delinquents, the three-looking confused at why Gojo had been standing all doe eyed. “What’s wrong with him?” Megumi muttered.

“He always looks like that?” Yuji was barely concentrating as some shop nearby had caught his eye.

Nobara understood where he had been looking, could see that he had seen something he wanted. Her eyes went to the restaurant seeing your form taking plates away from an empty table. “He has a crush.” Her voice was loud as the two boys whipped their heads to give a confused look, Nobara pointed through the window as both her and Yuji went straight up to the glass staring right at you.

“Get away from the window.” Gojo spoke, grabbing their collars as he pulled them away from the window. “I don’t have a crush, that’s not my thing.”

“Sure, sure.” Yuji laughed as Gojo was clearly flushed from the way his ears became red and how his voice cracked as he tried to form words.

Megumi rolled his eyes as he spoke out loud, “leave him alone, even if he did have a crush that’s not our business, and it’s not like anybody would go for him.”

Gojo turned to face Megumi with his eyebrows raised, Megumi’s tone had been calm and without any malice but the way Nobara and Yuji laughed at the comment made Gojo roll his eyes. “I liked it when you weren't here.”

They dismissed his comment as they decided to head back home, Gojo gave one more look back through the wide window. The way you move your finger to brush your hair behind your head talked with the customers. You’d just be another woman who he had never gotten the chance to speak to, another woman who probably had a life that didn’t need the disruption of sorcerers and curses.

Turning back around he walked behind them, hands in his pocket as they all hurried back to the Jujutsu High.

It had been a week since he had seen you through the window of the restaurant, the three had been sent on a mission on their own as Gojo had found himself stuck inside after the incidents had occurred. Finding boredom through texting Nanami irritable messages, he got a reply he never expected from the blond, a meeting place for lunch.

It was highly unusual for Nanami to ask for something but whatever the issue was Gojo would be there without a second question. His eyes fixated on the address which sounded so familiar, he didn’t realise where he was until he stared directly at the restaurant. The restaurant you worked out, it had to be a coincidence. It couldn’t be that Nanami knew from Nobara or the others clearly wanted to have a conversation with you.

But just as he walked through the doors, the gold bell ringing, your head beamed from the doors of the kitchen watching to see who it was. The restaurant was empty as the lunch rush had finished and the only one’s left were regulars or the mysterious white-haired man.

He walked straight to one of your tables as he went to the blond, “Y/n, I don’t pay you to talk all day.” The manager said as you rolled your eyes laughing, you shook your head as you grabbed your apron staring at the two men.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m going.” You muttered as he shook his head, even if you brought in a lot of customers and got the highest paid tips he questioned how you had gotten the job in the first place.

You walked straight to the table, a happy smile on your face as you undid your pen and flipped the notepad open. “Hi, I’m Y/n, I’ll be your server today, can I get you any drinks to start off with?”

Gojo eyes stayed fixated on your form as you gave the two men a happy look, “coffee.” Nanami spoke as the two of you turned to face the white-haired man.

“Not…nothing.” You nodded as Gojo had paused at how close you were to him, you stared back at them as you wrote the single drink down.

“And can I get you any starters?”

You barely looked up at them as Nanami spoke out some food items Gojo couldn’t comprehend, after scribbling it down you looked up. “Always the hungry one aren’t we Nanami.”

Gojo’s face fell as he stared at Nanami who rolled his eyes, you giving a chuckle as Nanami rolled his eyes at your antics. “Gojo meet Y/n Y/l/n, Y/n meet Satoru Gojo, she’s a friend and he…”

“Was the guy staring at me last week through the window.” You interrupted as Gojo didn’t look up through his sunglasses, you could see a spec of blue come through and he looked different from last week but still the handsome guy your customers had noticed gawking at you.

“You were doing what?” Nanami questioned as you laughed at the blond staring daggers at his friend.

Gojo leaned back on his chair as he tried to replace his embarrassment with another emotion, “I wasn’t staring.”

“My customers called it gawking.” You laughed once more before beginning the walk back to get the two men food.

Gojo’s eyes stayed fixated on your form as you left to grab the food, Nanami clicking his fingers in front of the man's face. He couldn’t help but stare at your form, how pretty you looked in full view, how you laughed off his clear gawking at you and how he knew you had a pretty name to match your pretty face.

“How do you know her?” Gojo spoke after you had gone into the kitchen, Nanami raising an eyebrow before replying.

“Before I became a Jujutsu Sorcerer again, I met her here and we became friends…I do have friends, Gojo.” He muttered as he stared at the menu and what he wanted to eat.

Gojo didn’t bother staring at the menu as all he wanted to do was become friends with you, he thought you were perfect. The way you laughed was even perfect but most importantly if you could handle Nanami he would be able to get along with you easily.

“She gets people handing her numbers every day, you can’t just give her your number.” Nanami hinted as he did want to see you happy and if it meant a date with Gojo then who was he to judge.

Nanami had only picked this place after you had spoken of the weird white-haired man who had been surrounded by three teenagers wearing blue uniforms. In an instant Nanami knew who you were talking about he couldn’t help but see how Gojo would react to seeing you once again.

You came back with the food as Nanami leant back grabbing the food as he wanted to see how Gojo would ask for your number. Gojo had one thing in his mind, and it was how pretty you looked, he barely even knew you but the urge to get to know you succumbed him.

All he had to ask was for your number, that was ask for your number and he could start something with you. But the words that formed out of his mouth was not what either Nanami or you expected.

“You come here often then?”

You let out a laugh as Gojo couldn’t dare look at you, he felt like a child in front of you and Nanami was enjoying all of it. “Well considering I work here, yes.”

Gojo knew he had lost his chance as you laughed once more before walking away to go to your other tables. “That was unexpected.”

“This is your fault; I would’ve never said it if you hadn’t told me she rejects every guy who asks her out.”

“I never said that.” Nanami spoke nonchalantly as he continued to play with the food.

It seemed like the rest of the lunch was going to be awkward as you hurriedly passed their main meal before going to another table. Nanami spoke of Yuji’s progress as Gojo was barely listening, staring off into the distance. It seemed like he had ruined any chance to ever get to know you, rolling his eyes as the two of them finished their meals.

“If there’s anything else you two need just ask, but i'll bring you the receipt.” You smiled at the two before leaving once more, never to chat or make conversation just making simple cordial comments before hurrying away to grab drinks for another table.

Nanami stood up as he stretched sorting his tie out as he looked at Gojo, “It’s on you.”

He didn’t say anything else as he walked out of the restaurant giving a nod goodbye to you as you had turned to see Gojo on his own. You couldn’t help but laugh at the way Gojo’s mouth had turned downwards in anger as you passed the receipt to him.

He was cute enough and funny from what you had gathered from Nanami. His awkwardness or most likely staleness from not flirting in a while had been cute. You bit your lip questioning if you should do it, but you grabbed your notepad as you wrote down a time and place on it. Slipping it inside you walked over placing it to the side of Gojo as you gave a smile before leaving.

His eyes went down as he opened the booklet, grabbing the receipt and seeing the cost, already cursing out Nanami. Grabbing some cash he slipped it inside before he noticed the note, seeing a time and place, he turned to see you staring at him from the register.

“Really?” He mouthed as you chuckled at him.

Walking closer as you wanted to talk to him properly, “really? I can’t let an attractive guy who can’t help stare at me, walk away from me?”

He chuckled lightly as he leaned back, glasses on the bridge of his nose as you saw his crystal blue eyes. The passion and lust felt through his warm gaze as he smiled at you, “you saying I’m attractive.”

You lean forward having taken Nanami’s seat, “I guess I am.” He leans forward himself, faces a mere inch from each other as you give a light chuckle. Feeling your warm breath fan against his face, “if you’re even a second late then I will get Nanami to beat you up.”

“You wound me.” He laughs as you roll your eyes at his comment, “I would never be late for a pretty girl.”

You give one last smile before standing up with a happy glee, he watches you take the money as he takes the note. He couldn’t help but not stare at your form as he stood outside the window once more, the way you worked with customers with such love for them all. You noticed him staring as you turned to the window smiling once more.

You had acknowledged him and that was all that he had ever wanted since last week. Waving a goodbye, you waved back as he finally walked away from the store. Ready for a whole new world with you at the centre of it.

i’d really appreciate if you guys could leave a like, reblog or comment, thanks x

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[sevenlightd]

      HEADCANON.001 — FIRST LOVE &. IT’S IMPACT 

     ( heads up — content warning for mentions of death ahead ! )

     morty is a man on whom love has a very profound impact . it’s an all consuming thing, and given that his love languages above the 20% mark are, in order from highest to lowest, quality time, physical touch and words of affirmation, most people can easily tell when he is head over heels for someone . and, given his views the afterlife and on his theology in particular, you would think he’s very quick to act and speak up, but it wasn’t until the aftermath of his first relationship that he learns to truly let these emotions dictate his actions in earnest .

     sasaki chiyo was the name of the first and so far only ( verse dependent, of course ), love of morty’s life, and what a thing she was to him . it was not long after he had turned 20 that they began dating, met during the ecruteak spring equinox festival . the whole of the town knew -- after all, before that point morty had hardly ever taken a break from training with his family and his duties about the family’s shrine and chiyo was eager to take him out to the town -- it was she who got him interested in seeing other parts of the region, so focused on his duties as he was . they’d go on dates to other towns linked arm in arm, take walks along the routes so close their shoulders were touching . and she was terribly supportive of him too, over the three years they were together, she would eagerly inquire about his training, offer to battle or join him when it was physical training .

     the day morty turned 23, a year after he attained leadership of the ecruteak city gym, he sat down with his parents and resolved to begin saving money -- he intended to buy a ring and propose to her . for one year, he set aside money every time he received gym victory compensation, when he received paychecks, and he even began taking up far more commissions as a medium . he had the perfect one in mind too: an intricately designed platinum ring set with a brilliant diamond . after the two celebrated his birthday in june early june, if his math was to be correct and notwithstanding outside effects like other expenses or income, by the end of the month he would have enough to afford the ring -- saving damn near five - thousand for it .

     it was mid - june when he was approached by local authorities on the subject of chiyo’s disappearance . she’d left a week earlier to go on a hiking trip on nearby mt. mortar, and while he had intended to join her, morty had been blindsided by league business and some last minute preparations for the summer solstice festival in a month’s time ( when he’d intended to propose, no less . ) so he had simply seen her off with a kiss and well - wishes . they all searched for her for weeks, and there was nothing . the closest thing they found to her was a marowak carrying a torn backpack sleeve -- both of which morty quickly recognized as hers . weeks turned to months, and with no other signs of her found, and on morty’s end, not even so much as a spirit to commune with, she was declared deceased .

     he’d never gone through five - thousand dollars so swiftly in his life, between what little could be done for her funeral, a small community based thing, and spending what remained because he simply could not stomach looking at such a substantial amount knowing what it was intended for . and of course, people are wont to spread rumors -- he is a ghost - type specialist, some reasoned . it was only to be expected for getting so close . add to that the fact that morty had been seemingly incapable of crying -- not at the first announcement of her being missing, the date of her declaration, nor even while he spoke at her funeral . he seemed dejected certainly, but he’d never cried publicly . all fuel for the fire, and so as rumors milled about -- never gaining ground in ecruteak, but people who would visit or lived outside the prefecture, he simply threw himself twofold into his training, to his duties at both gym and shrine, and grieved on his own, in the company of his ghost companions, and of the marowak he had taken into his own care .

[mccall-me-maurice]

A new list of headcanons for the updated AU

Lotf headcanons

Jack:

Jack is Ralph’s academic rival and also head of the debate team. He spends the weekends at his father’s business, learning how to run the company. On the Saturday nights, he goes to an underground club in a fight ring thing. Nobody knows he does it, even though Ralph also spends time there.

Jack is dyslexic and has minor and manageable OCD, denying using extra help for his dyslexia in classes.

Comes from a wealthy family with 6 siblings, his father divorcing his mother and marrying his step-mother who he pushes away because he’s angsty and shes “not his real mother.”

Loves 80s music so much, he’s a nerd for it.

Sings in the shower/bathroom like into a hairbrush in front of the mirror in his little towel like a nerd but he’s actually really good at singing.

Wears his uniform extremely sharply and very crisp like why so much effort.

He has hearing loss due to an accident in his childhood and he’s fluent in ASL, but doesn’t wear his hearing aids almost ever.

Ralph:

Ralph is fluent in violin, he’s actually really good at playing, he was also an ocean lifeguard and saved Jack’s life when he got caught in a current.

He wears thick framed glasses to read and has really swoopy handwriting thats illegible because it’s like messy calligraphy.

Ralph dives as a hobby and is so good at it, like scary good at diving perfectly.

He has beauty marks on his face that he lets people trace sometimes, ink usually adorning his cheeks.

Very French, extremely French. Fluent in the language.

Draws on his hands with different coloured pens and the designs are always so intricate like a mandala colouring book.

Also draws on the cuffs of his jeans and the rubber edge of his sneakers all the time.

Blushes very easily, will go red in a matter of seconds flat either when he’s flustered, embarrassed or angry.

Brothers with Robert.

Simon:

Spends all of his out of school time in his mother’s flower shop and can recite the meaning of most flowers if you ask him. His fingers are all bandaged up because of how much he cuts himself with knives when he’s removing stems or clippers.

He has epilepsy and faints frequently.

Is a fan of older musicals, like Grease, Dirty Dancing and Hairspray and makes the choir watch them with him.

Rarely spends time indoors, Simon is usually out biking around the neighbourhood or walking around with his friends from school.

Will paint rocks and gift them to people when he thinks they’re upset. Also does face painting at the school carnivals, because he never minds being alone in a booth when there is nobody there.

Speaks softly and is usually ignored in favour of people with louder opinions, but he’s usually right.

Roger:

His biological family died in a house accident, the only thing surviving being him and his cat Nastya, who he loves more than anything. Because of his parents death, he taught himself the rest of the Russian language, which they were already teaching him along with English. However, his heritage is East Asian and Russian.

He pierced his lip by himself, and even though it turned out fine, he got his ears done professionally.

Not very affectionate and will push people away, distancing himself because he doesn’t like the idea of anyone being close to him and get under his skin.

Dyed the back part of his hair on a whim and just liked it enough to keep it as a style.

Spends nights at Simon’s place instead of his own, finding more comfort in Simon’s house.

Sam:

Comes from a German family, but knows German, Italian and English.

He hates birthdays because he doesn’t understand why they are so important.

Hates social interactions and actively avoids them with a passion. He gets extremely nervous and just leaves abruptly when he gets too overwhelmed.

Younger than Eric by 6 minutes, which he routinely gets teased for.

Into super cheesy romantic movies because he loves the idea of a happy ending despite not having one himself.

Messes with his hair when he’s anxious, so it’s constantly messy and mussed.

Mega nail biter when he’s nervous.

Cousins with Jack.

Maurice:

Heavily touch reliant and when his friends don’t show him physical affection, he assumes the worst and gets very upset.

Heavily Italian, like so fucking Italian. His family hardly speaks English and he learned most of his from school.

Very passionate about science despite most people thinking he’s an idiot. He has some of the highest marks in his class.

Messes with things when he’s talking or uses hand gestures. Like if there’s a pen, he’s clicking it because it helps him concentrate.

Maurice has like a billion flannels and hoodies he just cycles through and it looks like he doesn’t change but no, it’s just that he owns a gazillion grey hoodies

His older sister when to an Ivy League school, so he owns a lot of stuff from it that he wears like sweaters or ball caps.

Eric:

Very sarcastic. his entire sense of humour is him bathing in his own sarcasm. It’s actually pretty well timed and kind of funny how he’s able to deadpan his jokes.

Very easily picks up on languages. He’s fluent or close to fluent in German, English, Italian, French, Spanish, Japanese and partly fluent in Korean.

Really enjoys computer science and plans on doing it for a living. He stays up late at night to work and sleeps until like midday.

Doesn’t acknowledge other people’s emotions very often because he doesn’t realise when he’s gone too far, but still feels bad for others when they’re hurt.

Jack’s favourite cousin because they’re cynical buddies. Jack is overly protective of him even though Eric is perfectly capable.

Robert:

Brothers with Ralph and is very protective over him. Has absolutely slandered choir members before for hating on Ralph.

Shares a dad with Ralph but has a different mom, who he visits over the summer and sometimes during the holidays. That’s where he gets his Spanish roots from, which is a language he’s fluent in. He has 7 siblings on that side of his family.

Adores burnt popcorn and burnt anything. If he can burn it, he will.

Works as a mechanic in his free time and built the car he shares with Ralph.

Sci-Fi nerd, specifically Star Wars. He loves the movies and watches them like every day.

Extremely talented artist, Robert sketches anytime he has a pencil and paper.

Peter:

Was bullied in the past but doesn’t let the words bother him anymore. It mostly stopped around high school.

Works with his auntie in the sweet shop and brings his friends food for them to taste test.

Used to be a boy scout, so he can tie any knot you want him to, it’s really a gift.

Gets very cold very easily, especially his fingertips. He usually has a pair of gloves on him for when it gets really bad.

A Mathlete for most of his time in high school, obviously is extremely intelligent.

Double knots his shoelaces so they’re extra secure.

Bill:

Swedish, and really enjoys his own culture. He will spend HOURS rambling about it and how much he loves it.

Watches Avatar the Last Airbender and has the biggest crushes on Sokka and Zuko.

Also is a sucker for people who wear glasses, he really loves them.

Works at the library despite not liking books, he finds comfort in shelving them and the order they go in.

Puts little umbrellas in every single drink he has, it doesn’t matter what it is.

Writes notes to himself on sticky notes because his memory is horrible.

Sets at least 5 alarms because 1 will not wake him up by itself.

Harold:

Can speak limited Spanish due to his schooling.

Likes singing, but never really got into it like some choir members because he has stage fright.

Powerful speaker when he wants to be, but is usually too nervous to say anything.

Has no idea how to tie a tie, so he lets other people do it for him.

Sometimes take sarcastic comments seriously and ends up confused.

A really good actor and loves the performing arts.

Has extremely clear skin, he never gets any blemishes.

Wilfred:

Dyed his hair because his naturally brown hair reminds him too much of his father, who he hates.

Has 4 tattoos in total, the 4 card suits on his cheek, a half sleeve of roses, a bow and olive branch on his inner forearm, and the solar system on his outer forearm.

Very flirtatious to people he doesn’t really like but gets nervous around those he does.

Hold grudges really well.

Has shockingly neat handwriting.

Has a pretty horrible home life but he never talks about it to anyone because he doesn’t want to be perceived as weak or incapable.

Colours with only crayons.

Percival:

Cries easily, as he’s very emotionally driven and is typically teased for being a crybaby or told to “toughen up.”

Absolutely has the worst sleep schedule ever, he gets 3 hours and calls it a win.

Can’t sleep without a nightlight on in his room.

Enjoys writing things down in this notebook instead of on his phone because he likes the feeling of physically using pen and paper.

Sends letters to people all the time instead of messaging.

Good at sewing, he makes his own Halloween costume every year by himself.

Hates horror movies because he’s spooked easily.

Max:

Lived through a house fire when he was younger, so he has burn scars all over his arms.

Is afraid of cooking due to the fire and will go without eating if he has to touch the stove to make food.

Laid back most of the time, but can reach a snapping point in which the emotion is amplified. (like sadness or anger)

Loves swimming, it doesn’t matter where he does it, he just loves to swim.

Is very time sensitive and has to get places early or directly on time or else he gets anxious.

A very fast reader, typically long books take him 2-3 days to get through.

Johnny:

Worries a lot, he usually sees the worst in every single situation.

Is a trans male (Ftm) and was accepted by his entire family when he came out.

Owns a St. Bernard named Dolly who is the sweetest dog ever.

Spends a lot of time outdoors, he still plays as if he is a child.

Also enjoys the snow a lot because he’s fond of building snowmen with the kids on his street.

Has very sensitive skin and eczema, which he doesn’t like to talk about or show anyone because it makes him feel insecure.

Oddly good at playing guitar, he just picks up on chords with ease.

Walter:

Good at playing the drums and annoys his entire family with it.

Uses a skateboard as his main method of transportation around places.

On the basketball team, as his older brother taught him to play when they were both younger.

Hates roller skating despite being very good at most things on wheels. He can never find his balance.

Shockingly good at Math, especially statistics and calculus. He’s in all advanced math courses.

Has a very weird snake addiction and he desperately wants to buy one.

Henry:

Aromantic Asexual who is best friends with Harold and Wilfred.

Mainly makes snippy remarks because his humour falls into the sarcasm umbrella.

Adores comic books and superheroes, specifically Marvel ones because he’s a fan of Dare Devil.

Plays baseball in his free time but hasn’t joined a team, he just plays with the boys in his neighbourhood.

Addicted to the High School Musical movies.

Good at painting people’s nails and will do it for them if they ask.

Has really fluffy hair that he lets people touch and play with.

[mymelancholiesblues]

No, Mia isn’t  "low-tier" compared to Ada (morally speaking, or w/e) – a measured answer?/essay

So, a couple of Ada haters tried to put up a false symmetry between both of these characters there on twitter, and it inspired me to put my own thoughts down in a more articulate essay as to why that's (Ada's somehow being morally worse than Mia) not sustained by canon in Resident Evil.

standing there, killing time

can't commit to anything but a crime

all the good girls go to hell

'cause even God herself has enemies

and once the water starts to rise

and heaven's out of sight

she'll want the Devil on her team. ⁕

First things first: let us debunk the false symmetry that they tried to establish between these two characters with extremely distinct archetypes – and worse, the following replies to this false symmetry and its poor arguments trying to validate it, pointing out that, in fact, no, character B (that would be Ada, btw) – which is so evidently and ridiculously different from character A (and that would be Mia) – is, in fact, WAY WORSE than character A, and then proceeding to assert some unsupported propositions about misogyny in Resident Evil (which, tbh, definitely IS a recurring problem in the franchise, but that in this case particularly, little or does not apply AT ALL) and how Ada contributes to "the perpetration of a biological cold war".

Starting with what differentiates Mia from Ada grotesquely: we know NOTHING of Ada's true alliances in RE's world. Mia, however, canonically worked for a group that participated in the importation and exportation as well as the manufacturing, testing and marketing of biological weapons: "The Connections", a CRIMINAL SYNDICATE which, amongst other things, was also involved in money laundering, assassinations as well as weapons and drug trafficking. I don't care at all about Mia, so I don't intend to waste much of my time going on about her role in the plot, but people should've already realized by just that much how infinitely dishonest is to try to put these two characters as "similar" ones, or argue that Ada is somehow worse.

Another detail that shouldn't escape anyone's attention too, are the origins and nationalities of both – and yes, I intend to briefly bring up racism against eastern-Asian looking characters (a silent plague that takes form by each passing day in all fiction fandoms) and anti-China xenophobia, but for now, hold this tea there just before I drop it: Mia is canonically American, and previously a Texas-state resident; meanwhile, we have no confirmation of Ada's nationality except for her pretty evident Chinese ancestry. But, as I said, hold it there for a while.

i) espionage — the job

red so silent

wait a minute

or just a little while.

what are you looking for? ⁕

At all times that Ada's "job" was brought up in this franchise, in ALL of her cameos, she has NEVER been called a mercenary in the original Japanese. She's always referred to as a SPY. Even in RE2R, the most recent title in which she's featured in, the original text of the game makes a point of labelling her as a SPY (and not a mercenary) in the dialogue that transpires between Annette and Leon.

It's the North-American translation and correspondent localization that now and then falls for the equivocal use of this other term. This distinction is important since espionage NECESSARILY implies operating in an organized service for, perhaps a country, or a political cause, or a class/group, or a corporation, or whatever. While a mercenary is someone who's acting per their self financial interests, indiscriminately selling their specialized "labour" and skills to anyone who'll offer more.

Ada's not a mercenary, she's a spy. But Mia, in addition to being hired to a canonically criminal company, was also the handler personally assigned to Eveline. I don't care how exactly Mia got in that predicament but the fact is: Mia was canonically employed by a company that profited over illicit activities and directly watched as a family was destroyed and toyed with by this new killing machine (Eve). Yet, we can't state for sure that we know to whom or to what Ada is truly affiliated with.

ii) sources — check them

who's a heretic now?

am I making sense?

how can you make it stick?

and I'm on a trial

waiting 'til the beat comes out. ⁕

This fandom should put a little more thought into which translation and localization of the game texts, dialogues and files they are using to support their arguments. I know that in some cases the United States people have a bit of an inclination to think of themselves as the owners of the planet and deem English as the only language that matters in this world, but let's not forget that RE is a Japanese franchise (wow, insane, right?!). Therefore, the most valid script, with the greatest amount of details, and highest credibility, is the Japanese original. Throughout these years, there have been several errors in translation and localization of the Japanese original to North-American English. And, believe me, curiously enough, plenty of those concern Ada, since she's often mentioned or referred to in a very vague way – without the use of pronouns or adjectives or adverbs that could help in indicating gender. This ended up causing those details and mentions to her to get overlooked, even though in the Japanese text it was a clear reference to her character (per observation of context).

iii) the good guys — one of

head in the dust

feet in the fire

labour on that midnight wire

listening for that angel choir

you got nowhere to run

careful son, you got dreamers plans

but it gets hard to stand. ⁕

Yes, as much as haters try to minimize it, it is SIGNIFICANT that Ada saved so many important characters and stood for unquestionably heroic actions in so many moments - like stopping everything she was doing so she could help completely random Chinese civilians with the helicopter she managed to pilot in that chaos in China (yeah, I know you haters love to forget about this, but it happened, it's there in canon, and no, it wasn't her direct OR indirect responsibility what was going on in China: REPLAY RE6 and for the love of GOD, never again argue that what she did was somehow "the equivalent of evacuating a city after selling a WMD to destroy that same city". It's a case of pure intellectual dishonesty to say such a thing. It's canon that Carla was the one who caused what happens in China, PLEASE, PLAY RE6).

Furthermore, Ada shows compassion on some occasions even for characters who are directly putting her in harms ways, like Annette (in RE2 OG, right after - in order to defend herself - she slaps Annette leading her to lose balance and collapse over the sewers fences, Ada makes an effort in trying to pull Annette back and prevent her from falling) and Carla.

Replay RE4 and pay attention to it, pay attention to her solo campaign: getting involved with Leon's journey in Spain hasn't brought any real benefit to her mission or herself: Ada deviates from her main path several times due to worrying about him and trying to help him and almost ends up dead in several of these occasions over her insistence in doing so: by saving him from Bitores Mendez, by helping him and Ashley against Sadler, by confronting Krauser and stopping him.

It's so lazy to only read/listen to a file in which she says in English that "Leon might be useful to her plans" (this is way more nuanced in the Japanese original of Ada's Report), and ignore everything that was SHOWN in the game: every effort she made to ensure that Leon could rescue Ashley, remove the parasite from his and her bodies, and escape from that hell-island.

The jet-ski she left for their escape was ALREADY there before she was captured by Sadler (or you think she arranged it while she was caught?). Leon having to intervene and save her from Sadler WASN'T her plan. It WASN'T her plan to take the sample from Leon's hands. She wanted to help him get out of there with Ashley and she guaranteed he could do so, she wanted to get the sample by herself and escape too while sending that hell to kingdom's come. But, because she chose to help Leon rescue Ashley right in front of Sadler, she ends up captured.

On her end, Mia never did anything minimally compared to that, and all of her "selflessness" or self-sacrificing actions involved a much, MUCH smaller scope than Ada's: wanting to help her husband and HERSELF is not at all comparable to saving a few dozens of unknown Chinese civilians. So no, they aren't "cut from the same cloth". They don't come from the same place, nor do they share the same intentions or goals, and their contributions to the RE storyline are quite different.

iv) unknown true purpose (shades of grey)

lining up in the background

waiting for the crowd shot to be seen

in the shadow of the big screen

everybody begs to be redeemed. ⁕

In databooks, Ada is recurrently described as "a Chinese spy with extraordinary physical abilities, vigorous health and composed mind and spirit, capable of coping with grim situations and handling even the most difficult requests without losing composure". If we are paying attention to the storytelling ingame, however, we know that this isn't always the case: Ada did let her mask of unswerving emotional and physical strength fall and showed a very fragile side under strenuous circumstances a couple of times already.

Also, in these databooks, they often point out that "she has her own 'true purpose' and has FREQUENTLY betrayed organizations and clients to achieve it". Huh, we can AGAIN, by this only, see how completely different she's from Mia, who personally watched an entire family being driven to insanity by Eveline's hand.

Furthermore, in these databooks, it's often said that "this true purpose is still obscure and whether she truly cared for anyone or simply used her charms to manipulate people that crossed paths with her isn't ever clear". If people are willing to be open-minded and exercise their text comprehension skills, though, they'll see that in multiple occasions of emotional confrontation it has been established time and time again that yes, Ada DOES care. She wasn't capable of shooting Leon and there has been a couple of other times that failing to choose a cool, sociopathic calculation and pragmatical demeanour over empathy and humanity towards others has put her in harms ways: nonetheless she still chose it.

v) positive impact

I'm gonna break the cycle

I'm gonna shake up the system

I'm gonna destroy my ego. ⁕

To this point, RE's plot systematically leads us to believe that Ada has been covertly acting behind the scenes of multiple biological incidents COLLECTING INFORMATION (the job of a spy, who would've thought! lmao), that is valuable to numerous organizations, companies, groups and different contexts, but at the same time of allegedly offering to handle this knowledge for the right price to the big players involved with bioterrorism and clandestine trading of bioweapons, she's also working to sabotage said players.

This is evident throughout the franchise: she intended to hurt Umbrella's business. She outwitted and deceived Wesker multiple times. She even undermined Simmons, someone who was in a position of power in the US government and actively using that position to lead bioterrorist ventures on the parallel side.

There's no concrete evidence or hint as to what she does with the information she collects, and for all purposes and effects, I can presume that she's gathering this knowledge to assist in the discovery of countermeasures and vaccination studies. I might as well argue that she is a Chinese spy who is working against European and North-American capitalism and the imperialism that creates such monsters like the biochemical and bioweapons industry and that her real objective is to dismantle the market for bioweapons and bioterror supported mainly by the USA (see: Simmons and The Family).

That is, as long as it is unclear what her true purpose is, I have the freedom to surmise whatever the heck I want and that all of what she's been doing was for the sake of the greater "good" - and I'll even have canon moments to support this reasoning as it's clear that she regularly sabotages her customers (customers that are unquestionably established as playing for the "evil" side, with perverse intentions) - throughout the franchise. She did this on RE2, RE4, RE6 and Damnation. It's there, transparent in canon, people just choose to ignore it.

She laughs in the face of whoever she's talking to by the end of Damnation, saying she doesn't intend to deliver the Plaga; she scoffs at Simmons; she betrays Wesker and kills Krauser. She had been sabotaging Wesker for so long, that he sent Krauser to be the main agent in the mission in Spain, and Ada was just a "side effect" that he didn't have in control and had to keep an eye on, so he ordered Krauser to keep tabs on her. It's not a mutually beneficial dynamic. Ada doesn't want Wesker to succeed, she despises him; this is clear in the games in which they interact. There are even files that indicate that she was trying to double-cross and get in the way of his plans for at least 2 years before Spain, and he was constantly catching up with her. See here and here.

On her end, Mia was employed by and consciously working for a criminal syndicate.

vi) a (secretly) helping hand

oh, I'm a master pretender

just felt more alone

the further I'd go

but I'll stick around

I'll be your master defender

yeah, I'll stick around. ⁕

Ada approached characters such as John Clemens and Luis Sera, and both had a canonical intention to, in addition to putting an end to their connections with the criminal companies and organizations they've been working for, also expose and denounce them for their crimes. It's in this context that Ada comes into contact with them. And why is that?

Check John's background: he had made up his mind about disclosing Umbrella's crimes to the public. Check Luis' background: Ada went to Spain to assist in his extradition since he feared for his own life if he resolved to turn his back on the cult of Los Illuminados, and also dreaded the consequences of the liberation of Las Plagas on an international scale.

Keep in mind that Ada handed over to Wesker a USELESS Plaga sample. Wesker only got the sample currently circulating in the underground market because he went after Krauser's body. We don't know what Ada did with the master Plaga sample she obtained. We only know from Ada's Report and the Plaga Recovery file that she didn't deliver it to Wesker, and he needed to go out for a plan B to get it.

Even the G-Virus sample that fell into the hands of the clandestine business, it's possible to argue that Ada's involvement in it was flimsy, since Simmons CANONICALLY made over a thousand laboratory tests in Sherry, and, as we know, he was a leading figure in bioterrorism and bioweapons trading with the aid of his position in the US government.

But, guess what, Ada clearly is a non-white character with obvious Chinese heritage and Mia is white, so of course, OF COURSE, someone can so nonchalantly affirm that Ada, this "vile bitch", is somehow WORSE than Mia. The same Mia who watched the Bakers being destroyed. Right.

Also: trying to validate one's point by claiming anything related to the misogyny present in RE franchise, while IN THE SAME BREATH AND TWEET reducing Ada's entire character arc to that of "a sociopathic bitch cured by the magic dick of her love interest" is supposed to be a joke, right? No, really. Joke.

conclusion and a word against misogyny

we are waiting on a telegram to

give us news of the fall

I am sorry to report

dear Paris is burning after all

we have taken to the streets

in open rejoice, revolting

we are dancing a black waltz

fair Paris is burning after all. ⁕

To any Ada fan that has been reading this so far: PLEASE, I ask to consider refraining to use the "oh yes, Ada did some bad shit, bUT" take to defend the character because that isn't sustained by canon in RE, lmao. She didn't do anything evil that had an indisputable bad impact on the plot and other characters arcs. For one, I myself do love some villains, but that isn't the case with Ada.

She did do some unconventional shit yes, since she's a morally GRAY character and an anti-heroine, but by the end of the day, each and every action of hers had a positive impact on the journey of other characters and main plot. Just pay attention to it.

Like idk man, Black Widow, Elektra Natchios, Scarlet Witch and Black Cat from Marvel, Catwoman from DC, Yennefer from The Witcher (some pop culture examples that come to mind).

Saying that this is an "extremely selfish prototypal bad bitch except when it comes to the magical redeeming dick of her love interest" it's a grotesque reduction of a complex female character, and, in its attempt to critique the misogyny present in RE's franchise an expression of misogyny in itself.

Remember: Ada has actions and impact on the franchise ASIDE and IN ADDITION to her romantic involvement with Leon.

[oscopelabs]

Christopher Nolan: The Man Who Wasn’t There by Daniel Carlson

1.

So, we’ll start with the fact that all movies are make-believe. It’s a bunch of actors on a set, wearing costumes and standing with props picked out by hordes of people you’ll never see, under the guidance of a director, saying things that have been written down for them while doing their best to say these things so that it sounds like they’re just now thinking of them. We all know this—saying it feels incredibly stupid, like pointing out that water is wet—but it’s still worth noting. There is, for example, no such person as Luke Skywalker. Never has been, never will be. He was invented by a baby boomer from Modesto. He is not real.

And we know this, and that’s part of the fun. We know that Luke Skywalker isn’t real but is being portrayed by an actor (another boomer from the Bay Area, come to think of it), and that none of the things we’re seeing are real. But we give ourselves over to the collective fiction for the greater experience of becoming involved in a story. This is one of the most amazing things that we do as humans. We know—deep down, in our bones, without-a-doubt know—that the thing we’re watching is fiction, but we enter a state of suspended reality where we imagine the story to be real, and we allow ourselves to be moved by it. We’ve been doing this since we developed language. The people telling these stories know this and bring the same level of commitment and imagination and assurance that we do as viewers, too. The storyteller knows that the story isn’t real, but for lack of a better way to get a handle on it, it feels real. So, to continue with the example, we’re excited when Luke Skywalker blows up the Death Star because he helped the good guys win. For us viewers, in this state of mutually reinforced agreement, that “happened.” It’s not real, but it’s “real”—that is, it’s real within the established boundaries of the invented world that we’ve all agreed to sit and look at for a couple of hours. Every viewer knows this, and every filmmaker acts on it, too. Except:

Christopher Nolan does not do this.

2.

There’s no one single owner or maker of any movie, and anyone who tells you different has their hand in your pocket. But there’s an argument to be made that when somebody both writes and directs the movie, it’s a bit easier to locate a sense of personhood in the final product. (This is all really rough math, too, and should not be used in court.) Christopher Nolan has directed 11 films to date, and while his style can be found in all of them, his self is more present in the ones where he had a hand in the shaping of the story—and crucially, not just that, but in the construction of the fictional world. Take away the superhero trilogy, the remake of a Norwegian thriller, the adaptation of a novel, and the historical drama, and Nolan’s directed five films that can reasonably be attributed to his own creative universe: Following (1998), Memento (2000), Inception (2010), Interstellar (2014), and Tenet (2020). These movies all involve themes that Nolan seems to enjoy working with no matter the source material, including identity, memory, and how easily reality can be called into question when two people refuse to concede that they had very different experiences of the same event. Basically, he makes movies about how perception shapes existence. How he does this, though, is unlike pretty much everybody else.

Take Inception. After a decade spent going from hotshot new talent to household name (thanks to directing the two highest-grossing Batman movies ever made, as well as the first superhero movie to earn an Oscar for acting), he had the credit line to make something big and flashy that was also weird and personal. So we got an action movie that, when first announced in the Hollywood trades, was described as being set within “the architecture of the mind.” Although this at first seemed to be a phrase that only a publicist could love, it turned out to be the best way to describe the film. This is a film, after all, about a group of elite agents who use special technology to enter someone’s subconscious dream-state and then manipulate that person’s memories and emotions. The second half of the film sees team leader Dom Cobb (Leonardo DiCaprio) and the rest of the squad actually descend through multiple nested subconsciouses to achieve their goal, even as they’re chased every step of the way by representations of Mal (Marion Cotillard), Dom’s late wife, who committed suicide after spending too much time in another’s subconscious and lost the ability to discern whether she was really alive or still in the dream-world.

I say “representations” because that’s what they are: Mal is long dead, but Dom still feels enormous guilt over his complicity in her actions, and that guilt shows up looking like Mal, whose villainous actions (the representation’s actions, that is) are just more signs of Dom not being able to come to grips with his own past. It’s his own brain making these things up and attacking itself, and it chases his entire crew down three successive layers of dream worlds. You get caught up in the movie’s world as a viewer, and you go along because Nolan is pretty good at making exciting movies that feel like theme-park rides. You accept that Dom and everybody else refer to Mal as Mal and not, say, Dom. Dom even addresses her (“her”) when her projection shows up, speaking to her as if she’s a separate being with her own will and desires and not a puppet that he’s pretending not to know he’s controlling. It’s only later that you realize that the movie is in some ways just a big-budget rendition of what it would look like to really, really want to avoid therapy.

Which is what makes Nolan different from other filmmakers:

None of this is actually happening.

Again, yes, it’s happening in the sense that we see things on screen—explosions, chases, a fight scene in a rotating hallway that’s still some of the best practical-effects work in modern action movies—but within the universe of the film, none of what’s going on is taking place in the real world. It’s all unfolding in the subconsciouses of Dom’s teammates. In the movie’s real world, they’re all asleep on a luxury jet. They’re “doing” things that have an outcome on the plot, but Nolan sets more than half the movie inside dreams. It’s a movie about reality where we spend less time in reality than in fantasy. Half the movie is pretend.

For Nolan, filmmaking is about using a dazzling array of techniques to create a visual spectacle that distracts the viewer from the fact that the real and true story is happening somewhere else: in the fringes we can’t quite see, in the things we forget to remember, or even in the realm of pure speculation.

3.

Memento arrived like (and with) a gunshot. It seemed to come out of nowhere and leave people struggling to describe it, and they usually wound up saying something like “it goes backward, but also forward at the same time, except some parts are actually really backward, like in reverse, so it’s maybe a circle?” Written by Christopher Nolan from an idea originally shared with him by his brother, Jonathan (who eventually turned it into a very different short story titled “Memento Mori”), the film follows a man named Leonard (Guy Pearce) who has anterograde amnesia and can’t form new memories, so every few minutes he sort of just resets and has to figure out where he is, what he’s doing there, and so on. He’s on the hunt for the man who attacked him and his wife, leaving his wife dead and Leonard in his present condition, which you can imagine does not make the gathering and synthesis of clues easy.

What’s more, Nolan puts the viewer in Leonard’s shoes by breaking the film’s linear timeline into two halves—call them A and B—and then alternating between them, with the added disorientation coming from the fact that one of those timeline halves plays out backward, with each successive scene showing what happened before the one you previously saw. So, if you numbered all the scenes in each timeline in chronological order, they’d look something like this when arranged in the final film: Scene A1, Scene B22, Scene A2, Scene B21, Scene A3, Scene B20, etc. You get why it messed with people’s heads.

As a result, we spend most of the movie pretty confused, just like Leonard, whose suppositions about what might or might not take place next begin to substitute for our own understanding of the film. It’s not until the end that we find out the shoe already dropped, and that Leonard killed the original attacker some time ago and has since been led on a series of goose chases by his cop friend, Teddy (Joe Pantoliano), who’s planting fake clues to get Leonard to take out other criminals. In other words, we realize that the story we thought was happening was pretend, and the real story was happening all around us, in the margins, memories, and imaginations of the characters. The most honest moment in the movie is the scene where Leonard hires a sex worker to wait several minutes in the bathroom while he gets in bed, then make a noise with the door to wake him, at which point his amnesia has kicked in again and he briefly thinks that the noise is being made by his wife. He’s wrong, of course, but this is the only time in the movie that we actually know he’s wrong. It’s the only time we truly know what’s real and what isn’t.

Yet you can’t talk about Memento without talking about Following, Nolan’s first feature. Although the film’s production was so extremely low-budget you’d think they were lying—the cast and crew all had day jobs and could only film on the weekends, so the thing took a year to make—Nolan’s willingness to dwell completely in a make-believe world that the viewer never knows about is already evident. It’s about a bored young writer who starts following strangers through the city for kicks, only for one of those strangers to catch him in the act and confront him. The stranger introduces himself as Cobb—I kindly submit here that it is not a coincidence that this is also Leonardo DiCaprio’s character’s name in Inception, but you already knew that—and reveals himself to be a burglar, spooked by the tail but willing to take on an apprentice. Cobb trains the writer to be a burglar, only for the situation to ultimately wind up implicating the writer himself in a complex blackmail plot. You see, the writer didn’t latch onto Cobb in a crowd; Cobb lured him in. The whole movie has been Cobb’s story all along, with the writer as a patsy who doesn’t understand the truth until the final frame. None of what we saw mattered, and everything that actually happened happened off-screen just before or just after we came in on a given scene. It’s like realizing the movie you’re watching turned out to be just deleted scenes from something else. You can’t say Nolan didn’t show his hand from the start.

4.

That same general concept—that the movie we’re watching is actually the knock-on effect of a movie we’ll only glimpse, or maybe never even see—underpins Nolan’s latest movies, Interstellar and Tenet, too. Interstellar has some concepts that are iffy even for Nolan (it makes total sense for someone to do something for another out of love, but somewhat less sense that that love somehow reshapes the physical universe), but it’s still a big, bold approach to exploring how time and perception shape our actions. As the film follows its core group of astronauts while they search for potentially habitable new worlds, they encounter strange visions and experiences that turn out to be their handiwork from the future reflected back at them. Sure, it raises the paradoxical question of whether they had a first mission before this that failed, so now their future selves are intervening to make the second one (which feels like the first one to the astronauts the whole time) successful, and all sorts of other stuff that your sophomore-year roommate would like to talk with you about in great detail. But so much of what we see isn’t the stuff that happens, or that winds up being important. There’s the great scene where the astronauts land on a planet near a black hole, which is wreaking havoc on how time passes on the planet. A minor disaster delays their departure for the main ship still in orbit, but when the landing team returns, they find that more than 20 years have “passed” since they left, with the one remaining team member on the ship having spent more than two decades waiting for them to return. It’s a moment of genuine horror, and it underscores the fact that what we thought was the one true reality was just the perspective of a handful of characters we happened to follow for a few minutes. There were whole things happening that changed the plot and story and direction of everything that would follow, and we never saw them; we didn’t even know we’d missed them.

Tenet is, of course, the latest and most recursive exploration yet of Nolan’s obsession with showing us a story that turns out to be mostly fake. It is almost perversely hard to even begin to explain the film (Google “Tenet timeline infographic” and have fun). One way to think about it is to imagine if the two timeline halves from Memento somehow existed at the same time, with people moving both forward and backward through time while inhabiting the same location. Basically, some scientists figured out how to “invert” the basic entropy of objects, so that they exist backward: you hold out your hand and the ball on the ground leaps up into it, because you’ve dropped it in the future, so now you can pick it up, etc. … Look, it doesn’t get easier to understand.

The upshot is, though, that we spend the film following the Protagonist (that’s his name), a CIA agent played by John David Washington, as he’s tasked with tracking down the source of the inverted stuff to figure out what’s unfolding in the future and why it’s suddenly started to make itself known in the present. He gets marginally closer to understanding the truth by the end of the film, but because this is a Nolan film that is maybe more expressly about the nature of reality than anything he’s ever done, his journey doesn’t so much take him forward as it does in a large circle. Because, and stop me if you’ve heard this, the true story of Tenet is taking place outside the Protagonist’s actions and knowledge, alongside him but invisible, often steered by people who themselves are moving “backward” through time and thus have already met the Protagonist in the future and are old friends with him by the time he meets them in his youth. Even more brain-liquefying, some of these people have been working under the orders of the Protagonist himself—the future version, that is—because his past self has already achieved the victories that allowed him to send the future people backward through time to meet his younger self so they’d achieve the victories that allow him to etc., etc., etc.

With Tenet, Nolan didn’t just make a movie that challenged perception, like Memento, or that dwelt in fiction, like Inception. He made a movie that can only be understood (to whatever degree true understanding is possible) by rewatching the movie itself, over and over, as the multiple timelines and harrowingly complex bits of cause and effect come into some kind of focus. The whole movie itself isn’t happening, in a sense, but is just the ramifications of something else, the echoes of a shout whose origin we’re straining to pinpoint. It both is and isn’t.

5.

Christopher Nolan is a talented director of action-driven suspense thrillers. He’s canny at controlling the audience’s emotions, and he knows how to put on a dazzling show. Plus he’s fantastic at picking when to deploy non-computer-generated effects for maximum impact. But you could say that about a lot of other directors, too. What sets Nolan apart from the rest, and what makes him a director to keep watching and returning to, is the teasing way his movies wind up being just deceptive enough to fool you into thinking that you know what’s going on, then just harsh enough to disabuse you of that notion. Looking at what seems to drive him, I don’t think Tenet is his best movie-movie, but it’s his most-Nolan movie. It’s almost a culmination of his continuing efforts to tell stories where what you see and what actually happens are two different things. It’s not that he makes puzzles to solve. There is no solving these movies. Rather, it’s that he sculpts these delicate artifacts that only let you see two dimensions at a time, never all three, no matter how you twist your head. Craning back and forth, you can almost see the whole thing, but not quite. Some part of it will always have to exist in your memory. And that’s where Christopher Nolan likes to be.

[wonderofwillows2]

The Training Part 1

There were no young men who came to the resort without a sponsor. Be it a wife, a girlfriend, a sister, mother, or aunt. No young man was allowed there without a sponsor and none were allowed without meeting certain very strict criterion. Some were specific and fit into neat categories that were known as the “basic minima of entry”. For the first basic minimum no more than one man could be there for every eight women which meant there was almost always a waiting list of sponsored young men up to a month. The second was that the young man be between the ages of eighteen and twenty-one, though those over twenty were rarely taken. The third was aforementioned sponsorship and generally at least two sponsors known to the group were required though some more respected members of the group could bring another. The fourth was that the young man must be circumcised prior to getting to resort with enough time to heal and be ready for intercourse.

There were also the three more abstract criterion. The first of these was that a young man must be physically attractive both in the body and face and have hygiene befitting his qualities. He was to be judged by a panel and if they found his physical features attractive enough he could join, if he was deemed near enough, he would be given three months to correct whatever issue as best he could. Allowances were made for small things like acne that a young man might not perfectly control. Most often it was simply that a young man was expected to become more fit or to simply improves his grooming. There were generally few who fell into this category.

The second was that the young man should be of some intelligence, he had be able to understand instructions given and, he had to understand the deeper relevance of them. He would have to be able to understand the lessons and mantras repeated on a daily basis. There would be plenty to learn for those impressionable young men who were taken there and it was important to know the lessons would become ingrained though the indoctrination those young men would receive. Few young men who left would have said that it did not leave an impression on them.

The third was personality and more broadly speaking social skills. The young men had to posses those requisite social skills to at least avoid being boring to the women of the resort and to be able to pick up some minimum of the women’s emotions and desires. Of course this was not a hard thresh hold as young men were to be further educated in these skills. Indeed most of the women there were eager to teach the men who came there how to further anticipate a woman’s needs. Some even took it to the point of being like a sport or challenge. To see how much they could spur a young man to further development in this category. They would show off to one another how well their charges and students could read their body language and the inflections of their voices and how thoroughly and eagerly they responded.

The brings us to to Victor, a handsome young man of Russian-Canadian origin who lived Toronto where his father and mother had settled and become firmly middle class. He was tall, about 6’1” but perhaps just a bit more with a lithe frame and with some musculature though he was by no means one gifted to be a true athlete. His features were fine and sharp with a pale complexion and fine blond hair. He had a well sculpted face and though not at all feminine he was not what one would call overly masculine. He turned eighteen early in his senior year and this had bought him some initial popularity as he could buy alcohol but that soon waned. He had always been shy and so it surprised him one day when hi sister called him in the first week of October from university to tell him she had helped to arrange a surprise and that a friend of his, Priya, had set up the very idea. He was to travel with them in one week, to see small resort several hours north.

Priya and he had been friends since they met eight years prior when she came to his elementary school. She was outspoken and intelligent and the two had bonded immediately though they contrasted in many ways. Physically she was petite and feminine in every way with no androgyny to speak of. Her complexion a fine color like that of cinnamon. She was outspoken and vigorous about stating her opinions and able to talk to anyone with ease I contrast to Victor who was sometimes shy. Yet they were able to form a bond in terms of being older than their respective classmates, though not by much, as well as being from immigrant families and speaking different languages.

The idea came as a shock to Victor but he was certainly open to it. His sister, Any, had always been supportive of her younger brother and despite an age difference of four years he always felt that he could come to her for advice in comfort and ease. One would be hard pressed not to assume they were related by looking at them as they shared some physical features though Anna was the more practical and wished to be a researcher while victor pursued softer studies. He hoped one day to be a human rights lawyer and Anna was the only one in full support of this. His father and mother thought he ought to go for the highest paid position and not pursue lofty ambitions. After all this is how they had overcome their initial poverty.

The week passed an Victor was excited to see his older sister once more. He had asked Priya about the details of the trip though she had been reluctant to share too much. She had told he conservative parents she was going with a girlfriend and suggested that he find a suitable person to use as an alibi as well. It would be fun she was sure but she did not want to arouse suspicions in their school nor to raise alarms about the seemingly odd group going. Since unattached straight men are usually not invited on trips with women whom they are not seeing intimately. Nor was it at all usual that his older sister was going. However none of them were bothered by this, all of them knew each other too well for that. Sometimes the assumptions of others are off base. In this case though expectations would indeed conflict with reality.

When Friday night of the next weekend came Victor hugged his parents goodbye before descending the steps of the house to the waiting car below. Priya and his friend Paul were in front and Victor got in the back with his small backpack. His parents warned him to be aware of bears and be careful one last time and then they waved the small group off. It was not three blocks before they dropped off Paul and changed the GPS to the coordinates of his sister’s school. It would be an hour before they even got there and then another three to the cabin. It would be a remote place for certain and cold this time of year, there would likely be frost. Eventually they reached the apartment near his sister’s campus. The sun was beginning to set and the sky had turned a variety of beautiful and fiery colors. They would soon be in wild lands. They called and waited and in a few minutes Anna appeared closing the door with grace and nearly bounding down the steps with a smile on her pale face. She dropped her bag into the trunk and then took her place in the back seat. Pleasantries were exchanged and short laughs were had.

The group set off in the now near darkness. Victor was having one of the most pleasant times that he could remember as they chatted in the car and share old memories. Priya and Anna having many to share themselves with Anna being like an older sister to Priya as well in many ways. Priya was the oldest in her house too and of course was often in need of advice when she was younger, about boys, makeup, or the life in Canada her parents were reticent to teach her off. They knew each other well and their friendship had grown from a the role of mentor and student to a more genuine and equal footing.

It was past nine when they arrived at side road leading down a path which terminated in a large packed earth parking lot and a small set of beautiful and carefully made wooden buildings with a set of four small cabins. Priya steered the care to the left into the parking lot and then up to the main building. Stopping the car she turns the keys and stops the engine.

“I’ll just be a few minutes, I need to check us in and get the keys before we can go the cabin” Priya anounced with a small smile before opening the door and departing into the cold night.

“So in all seriousness, Anna, what prompted this trip?” Asked victor.

“In all seriousness I just felt the need to get away. We just had a round of exams and I wanted to let off some stress and see people I knew well. We all need comfort.

“That is true. I actually came along partly to see you, we haven’t talked in a while and I am sorry for that.”

“It’s ok, I am sure you are busy at school. Have you met any girls?”

“I know them all at this point I think. I really only talk to Priya.”

“Do you still mostly hang out with Paul, Kendrick, and Mit?”

“For the most part yes.”

“How are things with you and Vanessa, are you still fighting?”

“No, we patched...”

The car door opens interrupting and Priya returns with the keys.

“I’m back it’s cabin number four.” She presents the cabin key before starting the car and then engaging it. She backs out of the parking space and drive parallel to large main building before making a left and then a right and parking in front of raised wooden cabin with small windows and a propane tank beside it.

“We’re here she announces and turns off the car. The group exits, each stretching upon their immediate exit. Priya and Victor walk around to the trunk while Anna grabs her articles from the seat beside her in the rear of the car. Finished with unloading the group climbs the stairs and approaches a beautifully finished door made of thick planks of wood.

“I can’t believe we got this for such a price” Victor muses.

Priya unlocks the door and they enter the cabin. It is a cozy space but more than suitable for four and lightly decorated with the beauty and finish of the construction materials playing the main role in the aesthetic. There is a small wood stove on one side and s small gas stove next to it giving choice to the renters. On each side of the main room are two sets of beds with bunk pressed against the wall on the right where the wood stove allows more room. Past the gas stove on the left is a small bathroom with a toilet sink and shower. The general amenities of civilization all seem present in the small retreat. It’s warm inside as the heat was left on for them. They pick their beds and with the ample choice there is no difficulty, the women choose the beds on the left and Victor picks the right. They each take their turns bathing and changing into night clothes and Priya turns up the heat to allow for the light bedclothes she packed.

A bottle of wine is opened and shared among them while they talk of old times and laugh while reminiscing. They talk about the time Priya developed a deep crush on her math teacher. They talk about Victor’s infatuation with skateboarding when he was younger and his broken ankle. They finish with more pleasant stories as they finish the bottle and then brush their teeth and turn in to sleep. They all sleep soundly after being thoroughly exhausted by the day and the enjoyment of each other’s company. They awake in the morning and Priya announced that there is a free breakfast the first day. So they dress in the bathroom and depart to the main building, walking down the bumpy earthen path and ascend the flight of stairs opening the main door. A young woman in her twenties with a plump frame attends the desk. Priya talks to her and hands her some papers and the young woman directs them to the left hand hallways. They walk up a short amount of stair and see two rooms. Priya indicated that they should head to the send and they do. She claims they should be seated and make small talk while they wait. Suddenly they are interrupted by three women.

“Is this the one one?” A tall and strongly featured woman asks them.

“Yes it’s him. Victor my little brother.” Anna answers smiling from ear to ear. One of the women makes a note on a small clipboard.

“What is this?” asked the poor, confused victor.

“It’s just something we arranged for you.” said Priya with a smile.

“I don’t understand, is this like an intervention? You both know I never do anything.”

“We know Vic. But this isn’t about that, imagine it as a different kind of intervention. You see we both know the lessons you got from mom and dad growing up and we think that a bit of modernity might help you. It might help you loose your virginity too.”

“You tokd her?” Victor turns to Priya with a hurt expression.

“I knew Victor.” Anna assures him

“pleasure just trust us.”Priya assures him and places her hand on his shoulder.

“Is this a brothel did you hire a prostitute for me.” Victor asks.

Priya laughs and shakes her head at him and Anna smiles knowingly. The other women seem to be amused as well and one lets out a small giggle.

“No it’s not that.” Priya assures him.

“Just trust us. It’s more of a workshop on social skills” Anna assures him.

“Alright I’ll trust you for now.” Victor says, still nervous.

“Don’t worry your sister is mostly right.” The lead woman in the group assures him.

“Besides we have the car keys until tomorrow evening so why don’t you follow us?” She adds and turns to leave the room. Priya and Anna stand immediately to follow. Victor is reticent at first but Anna and Priya pull reassuringly on his arms and soon he stands and begins to follow.

The end of part one.

[justalittlebluetiefling]

What is your class/role in your home game? If you don’t mind me asking. Would also love to know race and background and any other details you would like to add!

Anon, I love this question! Thanks for asking it!

I actually had two characters for this campaign. One left about 2/3 of the way through for a secret mission with another party member. So, I’ll tell you about both of them!

This got long, because I had a lot to say hahaha. So, this is under a cut.

My first character in this campaign was Amaya. She’s (now) a level 15 Ranger/Rogue/Monk. 9 levels in Ranger. Gloomstalker subclass. 5 levels in Rogue. Assassin subclass. 1 level in Monk. I did 5 levels in Ranger, multiclassed into Rogue for 5 levels for meta reasons, went back into Ranger for 4 levels for RP reasons, then took 1 level in Monk for RP reasons. The background I chose for her is Outlander. Her role in the party was basically Striker/DPS. The amount of damage she can do on her first turn in combat is fucking beautiful (sorry for the language lol). And here’s a ton of specific information about her. She’s mostly your stereotypical first D&D character. You know, no living family that she knows of, ultra traumatic backstory, huge scar on her back from the time a dragon and the cult of the dragon killed the druids, rangers, and gnome scientists she grew up with. Speaking of her parents, her mother was a half-elf ranger and her father was a human druid. She’s demi/bi. She loves music, likes to draw, loves libraries and books and I wrote an entire journal about dragons for the table before her departure episode, because in game, she gave them all the notes she’d been collecting for the 20 years she was traveling alone. Her Charisma is abysmal and sending her on a secret deception mission was probably a horrible idea, but she is very good at sneaking, so if they have been sticking to stealth, she’ll probably be safe. But she’s been growing and figuring out how to express emotions and I love her so much. I love my second character, too, but like... Amaya’s so special to me. We keep talking about doing higher level oneshots once the campaign is over and if she survives the last fight, I’m always going to be bringing Amaya back. I just love her so much. She’s currently developing feelings for the person she’s traveling with and she’s incredibly annoyed by that, because he’s an asshole and she knows he won’t ever genuinely return those feelings. Also, her unarmored AC is 21 which frustrates the DM almost every time he tries to hit her. Like I said. I LOVE her. She’s more emotionally messy than Mariette, which makes her more fun for me to play.

The character I’m currently playing is Mariette. She’s a Glasya Tiefling Rogue. All 15 of her levels are in Rogue. I had fun multiclassing with Amaya, but I think I prefer not multiclassing. Oh yeah, she’s an Arcane Trickster. Mariette is massive DPS/striker. She’s got a cat familiar named Eloise and similar to Caleb, her familiar is only a cat. Except she’s actually only ever a cat. Mariette technically knows that familiars can change shape, but she would never ever change Eloise into something else, because that’s offensive to even think about. She first summoned Eloise because she was lonely and considers Eloise to be her best and truest friend. She also dismisses Eloise as soon as she thinks a battle is approaching, because she saw her get ‘killed’ once and still has nightmares about it. Her background is Sage - Baldur’s Gate (she grew up in a town outside Baldur’s Gate). Both her parents are human. When she was very young, she was kidnapped by the cult of the dragon and Amaya was the one who rescued her. Since Amaya is an Aasimar, she helped give Mariette some confidence in being different and Amaya would go back through the town every year or two to check on her and her family. Mariette has a huge crush on Amaya that is not reciprocated, because she’s way too young (Amaya is 28 and Mariette just turned 19). She doesn’t care to label her sexuality at all, but she falls for almost anyone very easily. But her crush on Amaya is persistent and will probably be persistent for her whole life unless an RP reason comes for her to shake off how much she idolizes Amaya. When she was like 12, some people came through town and noticed she was pretty smart, so they offered her parents the opportunity to allow Mariette to study at a fairly prestigious school. But Mariette got bored and left and fell in with a crowd of thieves. She doesn’t really care about stealing, but she’ll do it if someone prompts her to and she’s way too good at it. But before she left the school, she stole a bunch of magic books, which led to the eventual Arcane Trickster subclass. Oh, and her Persuasion is the highest out of the group. Even better than our “face” because of Reliable Talent. Can’t roll lower than a 23 lol. She hates lying and leaned toward Illusion magic for her spells. She doesn’t want to think someone is friends with her because she magically charmed them. But just because she hates lying doesn’t mean she’s opposed to fucking with someone. She actually really enjoys guilting people. Mariette also gives away all of her money all the time. I keep having no money, because she either sends it to her parents or gives it to people who she thinks needs it more.

[hannie-dul-set]

saturday came rolling by quicker than you'd expected.

standing near the entrance of the rather expensive restaurant (you swore that even the plants by the door are worth more than everything you were wearing combined) you opened your phone, double checking to make sure you were at the right place that jaehyun's mother messaged you.

admittedly, it was a bit weird that you were hanging our with your new friend's mother whithout the knowledge of that said friend, but even if you wanted to back out, you couldn't because it would be rude to do so.

you returned your phone back into your white sling bag after confirming that this was indeed the place and made your way into the entrance, the restaurant's guard opening the door for you.

the moment you stepped in, you started to feel a bit self conscious. you were only wearing a simple navy blue wrap dress underneath a cream cardigan and a pair of sandals to match— deeming you absolutely out of place inside the fancy interior of the establishment.

to the eyes of the occupants of the restaurant, you probably looked like a lost puppy considering your attire and the fact that you had no idea where the hell mrs. jung was.

"miss, can i help you?"

your search was interrupted by one of the waiters, you assumed.

"oh, um, i'm looking for mrs. jung..?"

were you supposed to say that? at that point you didn't even care— you just wanted this whole lunch thing over and done with.

"ah, then you must be y/n l/n, correct?" you were slightly confused, but you nodded anyway.

"follow me, miss."

and so you did, carefully treading along the restaurant floor. you were afraid if you even breathe in the wrong direction, you'd end up breaking one of the many expensive decorations littered all around the place.

the waiter lead you to a secluded part of the restaurant. sunlight was beaming into the large arch windows that were adorning the walls and there were only three tables set up, all of which were unoccupied save for the one at the very end.

as you moved further inside, the two people that were sitting at the last table had noticed you and the waiter walking in. their heads turned towards your direction and you stopped in your tracks.

one of them was mrs. jung, obviously, but the other one you weren't quite expecting.

"miss y/n?"

"jaehyun?"

amidst your shock, the waiter had already left, leaving the three of you alone. your eyes were frozen stuck on jaehyun dozens of question marks floating around his head.

you were confused, but then you remembered that this was her son, of course he'd be here. but couldn't she at least have told you?

"y/n, dear, it's good that you've finally joined us! i was worried that you wouldn't come."

jaehyun was the first to snap back into reality. he diverted his attention from you to his mother.

"mother," you couldn't pinpoint the exact emotion he was carrying in his voice. "care to explain why miss y/n is here?"

"i invited her, of course," mrs. jung seemed to be completely unbothered by not so pleasant demeanor that her son was baring.

"sorry, i can just leave if you'd like," the atmosphere was unbearably uncomfortable and you'd much rather just leave if you could. you gave them a small bow before turning your heels, hand clutching your bag as you were about to leave.

"no, it's alright—" the screeching of a chair was heard and you felt a hand grab onto your arm, preventing you from moving forward. you turned around and you were met with a rather frantic looking jaehyun. "you can stay."

eyes wide from the sudden close proximity, your gaze moved back and forth from jaehyun's very very close face to his hand that was holding onto you— you could feel the heat slowly rising to your cheeks.

jaehyun must've noticed the situation that you two were in and he let go of you hurriedly, a coughing out a small sorry in the process. from the corner of your eye you could see his mother looking at the both of you with an amusement in her face. mostly because of his son's absolutely uncharacteristic behavior but you weren't aware of that.

"i apologize if my words sounded rude," jaehyun started, finally managing to get himself back together. "it wasn't my intention to send you away— i was just surprised to see you again."

"no it's okay," you gave him a smile of assurance and he visibly relaxed.

you nearly forgot that his mother was actually here (not to mention she was the one who invited you) until you heard her speak up.

"maybe i'm the one who should be leaving?" she teased, jaehyun giving her a disapproving look.

"you're staying. i believe you still have some explaining to do, mother."

much to your surprise, lunch went a lot better that you'd expected, especially taking into account the prior events that took place. mrs. jung eventually told jaehyun everything— the fact that she contacted you last time as well as her reasonings. jaehyun wasn't really upset that his mother was trying to set you two up, he was absolutely flustered to the highest point— cheeks flaring and avoiding eye contact from you as much as possible, you couldn't help but laugh at him, furthering his embarrassment.

"i apologize for my mother's behavior," he tells you (although, his eyes were looking everywhere else except for you).

the evident unease that was present earlier was replaced with comfortable air to which you were surprised, but nevertheless you were thankful. the conversation went on until the topic eventually landed on you.

"y/n," jaehyun's mom started, taking a sip from her peach-colored drink before continuing. "i realized i never got to ask your age."

"ah, i'm turning twenty-one this year," you replied, earning a hum from the older woman.

jaehyun places down his fork, diverting his attention towards you instead. "you must be in school then. do you mind me asking what your major is?"

"oh, no i'm not, actually,"

you continued to eat your food (you asked jaehyun what it was called but it your ears failed to understand the rich language) while the two of your companions promptly stopped, expecting you to continue. the sudden attention directed on you was a bit discomforting, so you placed your utensils down and wiped your lips with the napkin available.

"i can't really afford college so i'm still trying to save."

"what about your parents?" jaehyun asked, concern lacing his voice. "shouldn't they be the one's supporting you?"

"they sort of abandoned me after i graduated high school," you reply, staring at the untouched drink in front of you. "so i had to do things on my own from there."

you didn't really have a problem talking about your situation— you'd always been one to believe that all things happen for a reason, so you don't hold anything against your parents. you were never one to dwell on things; you'd rather choose to just keep on moving forward no matter how many setbacks you encounter. but of course, even though you had moved, emotions from the past sometimes resurface.

"i'm so sorry to hear that, sweetie," mrs. jung tried to sympathize with you. "i hope you're not too uncomfortable talking about this."

"no, it's okay, i've moved on," you pressed your lips together into a smile. "and although i'm not exactly in the best place financially, i'm pretty happy with my life right now. the experiences i've gathered and all of the wonderful people i've met— i'm very thankful for all of that."

after your mini speech, you looked over to jaehyun, who was looking at you with an expression that you weren't able to pinpoint.

"you really are an amazing person, miss y/n."

the words that left jaehyun's lips left you stunned, unable to think of a response. he might've said this to you through chat but this time he was looking at you— looking at you so so intently that you lost your entire train of thought.

"oh— um, thanks," you managed to sputter out before going back to your food.

"you know, dear, i'd be more than willing to help you with your financial situation right now," jaehyun's mother says and you politely decline.

"no, no, it's okay! i've saved up quite a bit already, and on top of my many part time jobs, my art has been doing pretty well recently," you explain. "i don't think it would be right for me to take money from you."

mrs. jung thinks momentarily before speaking up. "art? are you an artist, y/n?"

"i remember her mentioning it to me at one point," jaehyun joins in the conversation.

"well... i'm not exactly well known but i do a bit of freelance work here and there," you meekly mumbled. "i also do commissions."

until now, you couldn't tell what exactly was going on in jaehyun's head, but mrs. jung seems to be elated from your words.

"that sounds wonderful, dear!" jaehyun's mother beamed. "if you aren't too busy, i'd like to commission you, as well."

"really?"

you perked up from hearing her suggestion. you still had a few paintings lined up to be finished, but you'd be a fool to pass up on this opportunity.

"i still have some things to work on," you began. "but if you could wait until those are finished, then i see no problem!"

"there's no rush, dear! work on it as you see fit— we can discuss the details privately in a later time."

"alright, thank you so much, mrs. jung! i'll be sure not to disappoint you."

the day went on and the lunch you spent with the two jung's was over. after bidding then goodbye and thanking them for the nice meal, jaehyun had insistently offered to drive you home, but you politely declined, saying that you can just take the bus instead.

sitting on one of the benches at the bus stop, you pulled out your ear buds, deciding to listen to music as you waited. today wasn't as bad as you expected. jungwoo and haechan were wrong about mrs. jung— she may be a bit excessive and a bit too evasive regarding her son's affairs, she seemed like a genuine and sweet lady, none the less.

amidst your thoughts, you felt someone sitting beside you so you instinctively scooted away. you heard a cough from the said person, so you looked over to them. surprised, you pulled your ear buds away.

"jaehyun?"

"miss y/n," he looked at you. "i would like to formally apologize for my mother's behavior— she tends to cross boundaries without meaning to, i hope you don't take anything against her."

to be honest, you never expected jaehyun to run after you. it appears that the tables have turned seeing that he looks extremely out of place in his expensive looking coat inside the vicinity of the run-down bus stop. jaehyun still looked a bit embarrassed talking about it seeing that his face was painted a light dust of pink, causing a mirthful laugh to bubble in your throat.

"it's okay," you smiled at him in assurance. "i was definitely caught off guard, but i can see that your mother doesn't have any ill intentions."

jaehyun let out a sigh, visibly easing up upon your response.

"thank you for understanding," he gave a you smile and you were taken aback— jung jaehyun smiled at you for the first time that day and holy shit he has dimples.

before you can conjure up a response, the bus came into view and you stood up in haste, moving closer into the street. as the vehicle neared, you looked behind to see that jaehyun was now on his feet but he was yet to leave. the both of you made eye contact and you grinned at him.

"i'll be going now, jaehyun. thank you for today!"

his expression mirrored yours, hands snugly tucked into the pockets of his coat.

"likewise, miss y/n."

you curtly nodded before finally entering the bus. as you sat down, you looked outside the window only to see jaehyun still in the same position as before but he had his phone in his hand, fingers tapping away at the screen. he noticed you looking at him, giving you a small wave before walking away.

your phone buzzed from inside your back and you quickly took it out. a laugh escaped your lips and a wide smile blossomed into your face.

gold painted canvas

the classic rich boy and poor girl love story but with less prejudice and more happiness

13 // safe ride home

a/n: written part!! :D pls enjoy hehet <3

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[esthyradler]

I am Dungeon anon, djdjdjf. I hope submit is OK to use. But I didn't want be creative in attempting to fit everything in one post or in several posts. That might have the misfortune of being eating by the blob that lives inside all post boxes.

So here's the vague I'd I've had for a while now. Ok, not this one, this one only sprung to life by with that other anons writing story ask.

I have lots of IZ OC's only 3 are flushed, however, and only 1 is Irken and would work in accidentally finding Dr.Zam.

So, my Irken OC used to be a Elite Invader top in his smeet class, not as a whole, but among his smeet siblings. Since, I'm not sure of Zams age, but given my own Irkens timeline and what I gathered of Zams timeline. Either mine is a smeet group before, two groups above or actually during Zams time. (Still haven't decided if smeets are born in categorized classes. Like Invader smeets to one smeetary and science needs to another.) So, unsure if their actually smeet siblings, if the same age, again.

Anyway, during my Irkens invader life he was pretty vicious, even partook in the irken gladiator arena for sport between Invading worlds. On one mission he even turned off the air support on a whole planet and felt smug that he'd outsmarted n hid in fake skin never to be discovered, as he watched them all suffocate. He was true green Irken Nationalist - you know - more power to my people above all else, kinda Irken. Belief in Irken ideals that they were superior to organic lifeforms and all other races were inferior to the Irken Empire, that by enslaving n killing other interior lifeforms the Irken empire was in fact helping them. (Yeah brainwashed zombie.)

Anyway, karma is cruel n teaches us many things, like your whole way of life has been a lie and your no more important to the empire you pleadged to give your life to then other species you enslave n murder.

He was sent on his fifth invading planet right after being honoured and gifted a new ship for his last invade. When he was captured by the planet and headed over to their leading scientist. Dubbed 'insanity' A creature so devoid of apathy n emotions he experiments on his own people without blinking, just for shits n giggles.

He tore my irken apart. Broke him down mentally and physically. But it wasn't the torture or experiments that got my irken. It was the fact The Empire had been sending their leading invaders to their planet for years without a single success. Never to hear from a single one, or ever giving warning to future invaders of its danger. Because they meant nothing, once a toy was broken it was thrown away like garbage.

In the end my Invader wouldn't break. Wouldn't spill The Empires secrets. So he was given a virus in his PAK that would create a back door into The Control system n decimate the mem frame, wrack it from the iniade out, why giving the locations to every Irken whose PAK was still connected to Irk. N even has fellow irkens eye implanted in with a camera to watch the show.

But, what the alien scientist didn't know was. My irken may not of broke for him. He broke at very idea of returning to Irk and what The Massive and control brains would do to him if they learner he'd been defeated n let go. That he was a defected irken now, because he felt wrong. Complete mental breakdown ended up running from Irken space and has never looked back since. Especially, after finding out what was done to his PAK. He may hate what The Empire stands for, but he still believes in his people n what they could accomplish as free beings.

Dxhtrxtxxu, sorry, I figured that needed to be said to understand why everything happened.

My irken has killed a fellow smeet Invader Irken who accidentally ended sucked throw a black whole to his neck of the woods n he aligns himself in The Empires eyes just by knowing n speaking to other aliens aligned with The Resistance n The Resisty. Not mention defected, a traitor, still alive and so in. Lots of racked up reasons to be an enemy now.

I figure my aquatic Bounty Hunter working for The Sub branch The Resisty. Ends up way in over their head n leading several Irken towards my Irken. Or they are together my bounty hunter n irken possibly inspecting a new planet for the plant life (my irken is now a space green witch. They deal in the healing art of plants n such. They are very sick - ill explain that only if asked.) n their scanners on their ships don't pick up an training party of irken. Ooor they were already on the planet when the party shows up.

My Irken knows he's got a better chance of being kept alive n either escaping himself or being rescued tyab an inferior alien with ties to The Resisty who more then likely be killed right away.. Not mention he doesn't have the best self esteem anymore n if he dies it's no big deal. But the bounty hunter is his friend, their more then a friend, their the glue that holds my irken together.

So they cause a distraction or fight through all they fear to allow the bounty hunter to get away. N the irkens are more invested in traitors irken then some backwater planet alien.

In order to be kept alive longest my irken tells them in exchange for life imprisonment he'll tell The Empire all they want to know about their Enemies.. of course he's not involved with the Resisty.. knows nothing.. but he know how to be an Invader. He knows how lie n bullshit n work the system at the same time. (He knows they'll kill him after they get what they want. But he has a backup for that too.) He knows even the highest ranking irken can't make this decision alone.. so they gave no choice but to return him to Irken space to contact Irk.. because let's say the Massive doesn't exist anymore.. thank you florpis n Zim.

However, when get to Irk or radio in when close he lays down n the new tallest say simply to strip him of pak n download the info. He smiles n says he's been implanted with a virus any attempt to mess with his pak will infect every online system n destroy them. (He's bluffing.. as far as he knows. But they Don't know that.) Everyone's freaking out now n what to do with him. He's worth so much more alive than dead but he's also a danger.. so the tallest is like. The dungeons.. put him in the dungeons. Their old n there's no tech down there.. no way to infect the rest if irks whole gride system hundred if feet below the surface of irk.. untill they can figure out how to either exstrack the info without him or until they can get it out if him willing as before n just leave him down there to rot after.

At some point either my irken gets out n starts snooping around for a back exist or he just so happens to be stuck in same room as zams prison box.

Also, I figured out a way to keep Zam alive for so long without food or water or nutrient.. Irkens n their PAKs can go into a hibernation like the Wolly Bear Caterpillars.. Who freeze in winter, zero body functions, meaning they are essential dead n not using any resources.. He could be down there for eons without actual death.

I figure the smallest PAK function would be scan the area for other PAKs.. So Zam can one day escape. N his PAK senses my Irkens PAK n - that's as far as I have thought.

Just know Zam is going have to deal with my Irkens PTSD n emotional moments.. Being back in a dungeon all over.. being on irk around other irkens.. woo so many triggers. There might be even moments Zam will halve to talk my irken down from attempted murder as zones n blacks out from bounty of animalistic fear. (But, l figured he's not all stupid n excited puppy scientist. He's got lots of sides to him, especially, if he's going to be able to take care of Zim. So, he should do fine with this.)

I think I covered everything. Sorry about mistakes, I'm super nervous, hard writing this on a phone n I didn't write everything down. If there are more questions about the story or my Irken or any concerns in general, please ask. Oh, utccitcut n my OC Irkens name is Kravis or Krais as an Elite Invader it was SIVARK or SIARK (Still unsure about the missing irken letters in their language.)

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This sounds interesting so far(i have a different idea for the whole zam au thing, but I'll allow anyone to make up scenarios with my oc, its sounds cool)