#i am very uncertain on this point but i keep noticing it and i can't help but be annoying with it lol

[pochapal]

i'm Normal about this aspect now (promise) but it is interesting to track the points where we depart from battler's pov/narrative voice and what that could mean even just on a stylistic/thematic level.

[be-my-ally]

Splashing Around Ch. 2.

Chapter one can be found here.

So hello, welcome back to my lil cute, OC inspired a lot by Arlene (but also by my 50s dreams) cute kissing haven. I have to apologise for how short this is - it was taking me forever to finish the next section, so I've decided to break up what was one loooong chapter into two teeny tiny ones so his draft notice, army el, arguments and more kissing (basically all the good stuff I can't wait to share) to come very very soon!!!! 

I am, for those waiting on smut, cooking up a few things but I've been very, very, very, busy the past few weeks and can barely think about like, making a cup of tea, let alone putting words together in a way that makes sense so hang tight, it's coming.

wc: 3k.

sorry it's so short & so late - I think I've been promising *something* for like a month now, @whositmcwhatsit @thatbanditqueen, @ellie-24 @vintageshanny @missmaywemeetagain @from-memphis-with-love but hey, here's something! I'm hoping it'll set me off writing and posting again.

shirtless elvis 1957 inspo pic:

c. July 16th - August/September 1957.

Elvis grabs a covered plate from the kitchen island, still dripping wet, before whisking it up the staircase to the side, depositing them both in his bedroom. Louise hadn’t been up this way yet, she’d briefly been shown around when he’d wanted to show off to her and the other girls; they’d all ended up piled onto his bed, stroking his hair and talking, but somehow the intimacy of going up these stairs, with him alone, made her feel like it was her first time witnessing this private space. 

“Right, it’s uh,” He looks up and down at where she’s dripping onto the carpet, “probably for the  best if you go on through there again.” He points through to the dressing room, “there’s uh, there’s towels and uhh, soap and all of them things in the bathroom there if you want a shower or anything.” 

The storm crackles outside, but in the cushioned sound of the bedroom and dressing room it's almost impossible to tell, and Louise quickly busies herself, uncertain of how long Elvis would be preoccupied, and not wanting to keep him waiting. She does, however, take a little longer in the shower than she usually would - marvelling at the amount of hot water available that meant both of them could shower at the same time.

She’s carefully trying to roll her hair in her fingers, concentrating on her reflection in the mirror,  when Elvis pokes his head in, sidling around the door until she waves him in fully. She immediately regrets it, realising she’s only half-dressed, sat in her underwear and her blouse on but unbuttoned. 

“Oh - uh, Elvis! I’m not, quite, um ready for yo-” She watches him as he looks her over, he’s barely dressed himself, pants slung low on his hips, unbuttoned, and shirtless - but he’s entirely unself-conscious, holding the plate out to her, unlike the blush spreading across her body. She cringes a little, skittish, and he snaps himself out of it when he notices her nerves. He frowns, looking her over, and Louise feels the panic suddenly rising - is she not what he expected? He saw her in her swimsuit earlier…but it just feels different somehow now - maybe now, fresh-faced, she’s just not pretty enough? But he makes no comment on her body other than an attempt to ease her mind. 

“Thought I told you girls to settle, ain’t no-one gonna do anything you don’t want, sweetheart - won’t touch ya, I swear it.” She swallows, she hadn’t been scared quite in that way, but she would be lying if she said his words hadn’t reassured her. Louise nods, slowly, uncertain of what to say next, but Elvis takes care of it - striding over to place the plate on the dressing table, whisking the cover off the top. “There’s cookies there. Help yourself, I’ve already had a dozen waitin’ for you to get outta the shower.” 

“Oh! uh, I didn’t mean to keep you, I mean you could’ve just called - I didn’t mean to take -” She panics all over again, and he holds his hands up in an attempt to calm her,  

“No, no, honey, re-lax, just meant I was waiting for you to be done s’all.” He shakes his head,  “I promised you a blow-dry didn’t I?” He twists a strand of her hair in his fingers, “... how about I do yours and you do mine?” 

“Uh, yeah,” She swallows, “yeah that works.” 

His deft hands style her hair, but the whole time she can hardly breathe feeling his fingers against her scalp, finger-combing and gently twirling and twisting the strands of hair into some semblance of a do. She can’t take her eyes off of him in the mirror, a look of complete concentration on his face; almost a pout, with a slight furrow of his brow and his lips pushing forward as he focuses on his actions. 

The dryer prevents all attempts at conversation - which is lucky, because she wasn’t sure she’d be able to pay attention to a word he said, too focussed on trying to memorise the feel of his rings catching on a tangle - the tug somehow not feeling the same as when she brushes it, the sting making her shift in her seat, a dizzying feeling flooding through her body. 

“There.” Elvis finishes with the blow-dryer, fluffing her hair like she’s at the salon, looking back at her in the mirror. Miraculously, for all the ridiculous ways he was twisting and turning to do it, he’s managed to achieve a fairly respectable blow-out. “There we are. Now, look how pretty you look. Oughta do it for you everyday - could be my new career.” He puffs out his chest, clearly proud of himself and Louise laughs, 

“Hmm, I’m not sure all the other girls in the world would be pleased with that.” 

“Well I ain’t worried ‘bout any of them other girls, only you, baby.” He’s looking a little bashful, folding his arms across his bare chest. She can’t stop the blush, or the grin, from overtaking her face. She takes a second to respond, struggling to think of a reply, something that would make him feel as giddy as she does, when she’s suddenly knocked half off of the bench. Elvis sat down, bumping her with his hip. “Ok, my turn!” Louise obediently hops up, smiling at his playfulness, 

“Uh, ok - but I gotta warn you,” She nervously brings her hands up to touch his still-damp hair, it’s darker wet, but she can see where the dirty blonde is starting to shimmer through, “I haven’t ever dried a boy’s hair before, so, I might not do it very well and -” 

“You’ll do fine, doll,” He shakes his head at her, 

“Well, you might have to direct me,” His own smile grows wider, as if he’d expected she did this every weekend, and the knowledge that it was all new to her pleased him. 

“S’ok honey, I trust you.” She does her best, fingers pulling gently to hold the hair this way and that, as he constantly wiggles around in the chair; but she can’t help but get a little distracted by his expression in the mirror. By the way he seems to be practising posing, as if unaware she’s watching the whole time. His pouty lips going from a half-smile to a scowl to a lip raised in quick succession.

Louise thinks back to it, sat with her legs across Elvis’, on his new couch that he had been oh-so-proud to show off a week or so ago, of how lucky she was to be chosen like this, to be able to have thread her fingers through his hair, or watch him carefully comb it into place after it was dry; to be so close to him that she could see the acne across his neck, the remnants of a shaving rash on his lower jaw. How many girls could say they’d gotten to do this? But with that thought comes the sobering reality that it has to end at some point, and she’d rather not outstay her welcome…it’s probably time for him to get ready for dinner, or for entertaining whoever he’d invited tonight. 

“I’ve had a lovely day…thank you Elvis, it’s been really special…” She’s inching around the subject, she doesn’t want to leave, or for Elvis to say it’s time for her to go, but if he is she wants it to be from her prompting. She wants him to like her, desperately so, but she’s seen enough to know that she also doesn’t want to act too desperate, she wants to seem cool, and older than her years make her, mature about it all - aloof. She’s not though, and the relief she feels when he responds, 

“You ain’t thinkin’ about leavin’ me now are you?” while tucking her further under his arm and against his chest, is immeasurable. She’s safely cocooned against his torso, his freshly showered scent; shaving lotion, laundry detergent, and underneath it all him, the smell of all of it, along with the sound of the rumble of his voice in his chest, his heartbeat all mingling to solidify this memory in her head. Louise knows she won’t ever be able to smell any of the scents again, or hear another’s rumble or heart without picturing this moment in her mind. 

She spends the rest of the evening with his hand on her, on her thigh, her arm, her stomach - curled together and whispering to each other.  Even when some of the boys stop by - albeit briefly, no-one seems to be staying for dinner - he has a hand on her at all times, and no-one seems to blink twice at it. His lack of awareness of personal space, or perhaps of his lack of care about public physical affection completely understood. So, none of them question, even if Louise wasn’t Anita, why she was curled in his lap all evening, 

The other girls hadn’t materialised, some girls had, but not the girls. and Louise worried that it was intentional - that he was ashamed of her or something - was she meant to keep the day a secret? Worse to her than being kept a secret though was the thought that he might not consider her secret-worthy, and the fear that he might laugh her off is enough for her to keep her mouth shut from questioning him. So that night when she leaves, finally, long past midnight, despite her desire to, she doesn’t wait the last few hours until daylight and immediately call them, doesn’t get asked to be dropped off at Frances’ house, or stand beneath Heidi’s window waiting to be let in before crawling into bed with her - girl talk until the sun comes up. She wants to - god she wants to, wants to shout about it - wants to tell everyone that she’s just been on an honest-to-god date with Elvis Presley, that she’d kissed him. With tongues! But despite this desire, she’s almost too nervous to burst the bubble, the special bubble where only she knows; instead having to content herself with whispering the story to the stuffed bear tucked under her pillow - she’s much too old for him to be sat out in the open - or recounting it in as much detail as she dared to her journal.

She’d been sent home with the promise that he’d take her out for dinner the following night - but there’s a call about a change of plans; they’re all going to the cinema instead, Loving You was on the agenda,  and she arrives at Graceland that evening just in time for everyone to be piling into their cars, just barely making it in time for Elvis to smile at her, looking handsome as ever, captain’s hat on his head again and grab her wrist, pulling her into the back of his Cadillac with him. Louise tries her best to enjoy it as she might have done in the past, but she’s so worried about how to behave - if anyone can tell, worried about the other girls’ reaction; is she going to turn into some sort of social pariah? Ruin her chances for friends over a boy? Even if that boy were the only thing any of them truly had in common? And if that boy wasn’t just a boy, but a man, and Elvis at that. She can’t work out if it being Elvis makes it better or worse, so she sits there, primly, worrying her cuticles with her nails and her lips with her teeth. She watches as a tiny well of blood starts to form from where she’d pulled the skin a bit too hard and a bit too far - right to the quick, and she jumps as he covers her hand with his, pulling it out of her lap and onto his. He tuts at her, pulling out a handkerchief to rub at it, 

“Look at the mess you’ve made of that, stop picking at yerself darling. You’ll be sore for days.” She cringes, the desire is only made stronger by his holding of her hand, the worry that the others in the car might notice. They were sitting right there. But she complies, and is eventually soothed by the repetitive motion of his thumb on her palm. He lets go as they pull in, clambering out of the car almost before it’s even fully parked, seemingly anxious to get into the closed theatre. She tries not to be too disappointed at watching him run off with the boys without her, instead waiting for the other girls to climb out of the other cars, joining them in their excited giggling and chatting as they go in. Louise again has to remind herself to act normally, to join in their gossiping about how lucky she was, how excited they were for the film, and pretend she wasn’t a little upset watching him sit three rows ahead of them all. 

By the time the film is over they don’t bother staying for the double feature that had been set up for them, Elvis whisking the group away with the suggestion that even though it was dark out, it was still hot, and did they want to go for a splash in the pool? The night continues in that manner, Louise being seemingly steadfastly ignored, although she succeeds some of the time to forget about it. 

She’s not fretting in the shadows, she was just… taking a minute. He’d paid her no attention in the theatre, and the past half hour had been spent pretending not to be eavesdropping into the boys’ conversation, discussing Anita, singing their praises for her - as much as Elvis would allow - for her figure and face, and very briefly - her personality, before moving onto other girls; who from Hollywood they all wished Elvis would invite over, say, did you hear about that Venetia Stevenson girl coming in a couple of weeks? So on her way back out from the bathroom Louise felt like she was entitled to spend a moment or two in the shadowy corner by the back door. Taking a deep breath as she tried to remind herself not to compare, that maybe they spoke about them like that when they weren’t around. That sure, Anita might be a tiny little thing, but even she probably had to breathe in to button up her skirt - even if it was a smaller size. That, if nothing else, she wasn’t here with them all. 

She wouldn’t deny having had a good time, the film was wonderful, and the night as jolly as any, but still, she couldn’t help but wonder what had gone on that he’d decided to ignore her completely. She’s just getting to the point where she’s ready to return, a smile plastered on her face when suddenly, from the door, an arm reached out and pulled her back against the open door frame. Tugging her against someone’s warm body. She relaxes as soon as she recognises the smell and feel of him and he laughs as she stumbles against him, hands gripping both of her arms. He leans down, pressing a kiss to her cheek, open-mouthed, breathing on her as much as kissing her, before trailing his lips to meet hers. One of the boys shouts for Elvis, something about fireworks, and the next second he’s gone, barely a grin at her dazed expression, before he’s running off again. She can hear the way that the boys tease him about the lipstick smeared across his face, and his tight-lipped response. It makes her smile to herself, the way she has to try and catch her breath, still hidden in her shadowy corner, but no longer feeling invisible. And, though she wishes he’d pull her onto his lap or kiss her in front of everyone, she figures maybe it’s ok to keep it just for herself for the moment too. 

She doesn’t get the chance to see him alone again for a while, there are parties, and gatherings, and then he’s gone again - off on tour and to California for a long couple of months. Louise really tries to accept it all, even though the pictures appearing in the papers, and some of the stories that get relayed back (although never directly by Elvis) makes her heart hurt. It’s difficult, when he seems to look so happy in them, and so do the girls surrounding him - and who is she to judge another girl for feeling herself glow just by standing next to him. A little of his light reflecting onto them. 

One particularly brutal evening, after he’d promised to call but never did, she can’t help but cry into her pillow. This is why he goes for girls like Anita, ones that are a year or two older, they can cope with it. Louise shakes her head to herself - she can cope with it, she’s sure. She can deal. She can be mature, and deal with him out and about and kissing other girls. If Anita can, she can. Accept him inviting the starlets over, that’s fine, they’re only the toy of the moment, and eventually they have to go back to their own glitzy lives. They’re not like her, they don’t have an open invitation to his bedroom or to sit with his mother. But then, they do get private calls with him, and she knows Anita’s been telling anyone who’ll listen about the “just darling notes” he sends her.  Louise doesn’t get notes, sometimes he doesn’t even refer to her by name; simply just as part of the ‘girls’ he seems to always want to talk to as a group - all of them crowded around the receiver at Heidi’s house or Graceland. But then, rarely, sometimes, he slips into the conversation a little check-in, “How’s my lil’ Lou? Bein’ good for me doll?” and it makes Frances look at her in a calculating way, but her heart stutters every-time, every-time she responds

“Of course Elvis! Just waiting for you to come home. I can’t wait to see you.” He never replies the same way, it’s either

“Ah, who could miss this ol’ ugly mug,” or worst of all, “Uh-huh, looking forward to seeing the whole gang again soon.” On one occasion though, it was “Of course, honey, I’ll be seeing you re-eal soon,” and that was enough to give her hope all over again.

[treesandwords]

For anyone who's into LOTR I am rereading (again) and took notes on the weirdest/most interesting bits this time:

There are/were other magic rings beside the main ones, which is part of what makes it so hard for other characters to believe that Bilbo's ring is actually The ring

At one point Tolkien jumps into the POV of a random fox walking by our protagonists' camp and then never brings it up again, no big deal

The ever-controversial Tom Bombadil has several other names we just never talk about? And the elves (at least in Rivendell) know about him and have known about him for many years now

They also consider giving him the ring but ultimately decide it would be a bad idea because "he'd probably just lose it"

A lot of what happens to Frodo after he's been stabbed by the Nazgul is less symptomatic of dark magic and more of just...having a severe shoulder injury?? Like "oh no my hand is numb and I'm weak and can't move it, must be the evils of Mordor" bro you probably just have nerve damage and blood loss

Bilbo straight up writes and sings a song about Elrond's dad in front of him and a bunch of other elves in Rivendell like. The audacity.

There's a river called "Wetwang" (yes it's called Nindalf in Elvish, but that's not important here)

Aragorn never tells anyone else that Boromir admitted to trying to take the ring, it's implied he even keeps it secret from Gandalf once he reappears

The "Two Towers" actually refers to Orthanc and Minas Morgal, not Orthanc and Barad-Dur as the films suggest

Eomer has met and possibly was friendly with Boromir

Also Aragorn, who doesn't look that old, straight up tells Eomer he'd met both his father and Theoden when they were younger and he just...has zero reaction?? Like if a guy who looked not much older than me wisely said "ah yes, I met your father and uncle long ago" in a way that implied they'd worked together as somewhat equals I'd be. A little uncertain to say the least.

Oh and he also hung out with Denethor back in the day

Eomer and Gimli have a running disagreement on whether or not Galadriel is real, and if so, how hot she is

This is common ish knowledge but there are elements of actual Old English embedded into Rohan's worldbuilding (esp. the names/ "Rohrric" language) and the whole location is genuinely just Tolkien's fantasy version of Anglo-Saxon Britain. He is very not subtle about it.

Saruman was FULLY RUNNING DRUGS BACK AND FORTH BETWEEN THE SHIRE AND ISENGARD

And this actually ends up contributing to a main plot in the third book

Instead of the Palantir falling out of Saruman's pocket when he dies like in the movie, Gandalf shoots a spell at Saruman and makes him run back inside Orthanc and Wormtongue chucks the Palantir down at him from the window in retaliation

I know the potato scene is *iconic* but let's be real the fact that Sam risks a fire and takes the time to make a full rabbit stew plus seasoning while they're on a dangerous secret mission to sneak into the Darkest Of Dark Lords' fortress is kind of hilarious

Minas Morgul is some serious eldritch horror cryptid shit

Denethor is honestly such drama queen. Like I know he's supposed to be a threatening and tragic character but holy shit.

Also the entire houses of healing segment is unintentionally comedic

Like between the old lady who runs the house giving absolutely zero fucks, and the herb master and Aragorn having a mini nerd off about what Athelas/Kingsfoil is called in different languages, and also Aragorn and Pippin roasting Merry - who has JUST woken up from an Evil Coma by the way - about not being able to find his weed

"This weed is better than I thought" -- actual quote by Ioreth re: kingsfoil

This is something I noticed that a lot of people don't mention - the "Evenstar" that Arwen gives Aragorn in the movies that's tied to her lifeforce/immortality isn't really a thing in the books. The closest to it is this green brooch that she gives him via Galadriel in FOTR - but the only necklace she gives to anyone is actually to Frodo, as a token that basically means if he ever wants to go to the Grey Havens (as he ultimately does) he'd essentially be taking her place because she isn't going

Ok the scouring of the Shire is pretty common knowledge but are we going to talk about Lotho Sackville-Baggins became Saruman's dealer and helped smuggle drugs pipeweed into Isengard (see I told you it would come back)

Also!! Lotho was possibly EATEN by Grima Wormtongue, or at the very least Saruman believes he was, yes this is an actual canon thing

Legit quote from ROTK: "Worm killed your Chief, poor little fellow, your nice little Boss. Didn't you, Worm? Stabbed him in his sleep, I believe. Buried him, I hope; though Worm has been very hungry lately[]"

Seriously what the fuck

Saruman is killed by Wormtongue (who is then shot by a bunch of Hobbit archers) and promptly....disintegrates?

Anyway if you're a casual fan who's only seen the movies, or if you haven't read the books in a while, I'd highly recommend.

[olivyh]

Hey so how do you think Azul Ashengrotto would deal with a crush who he’s known for a couple of months now, his crush isn’t the flirting type, but at some point, every now and then they throw a genuine compliment at him or a flirty line. “You’re voice is so pretty”, when he sings. Or like people keep barging into crushes room and on their birthday, he is like “I shall grant you one wish”. And crush is like “I don’t usually take your offers, but I think I need a way to keep everyone from barging into my room without knocking… ;) but you Can come in whenever you want though”. They don’t ever push him into things, but make harmless comments towards him. Trying to fluster him a bit, but also make him feel happy. If someone asks S/o to give their best flirting and compliments to somebody, acting, crush is like “Oi, I can’t do that unless I genuinely am feeling it. My flirting game just doesn’t exist especially if I don’t like the person”, crushes statement is proved true by other people saying they’ve seen how terrible Crush is at trying to flirt. Crushes flirting game is top notch with Azul though?

A/N: Welcome back!! Azul is such a fun character to write for (though it is a little difficult to place his personality accurately sometimes,,,,) and i love writing him getting all flustered and embarrassed!!!!

-Azul is very flustered

-Incredibly so, actually

-I mean, he'd lived his entire life believing that he was ugly, stupid and useless, despite having changed himself completely

-And now all of a sudden someone is telling him the opposite in earnest? Without trying to butter him up or get something from him? In... simple kindness?

-He doesn't know how to react

-So he doesn't

-Internally he's kicking his feet and giggling like a schoolgirl

-But he puts on his businessman persona and takes the compliments at face value, the walls he put around his heart acting strong against this new, unexpected competitor

-He understands flirting, he's been the recipient of it before (but, again, this was mostly just because someone wanted something out of him).

-But you... aren't like them. You're honest, and your attraction in him is clear.

-He also understands that you're not like this around others

-And, thus, he understands the implications of this- the puzzle pieces all coming together in one cohesive painting that makes his heart pound and his stomach twist

-But still... he can't bring himself to believe it

"Your eyes are very pretty, you know?" Azul takes a deep breath at your statement, eyes darting over to yours before quickly flicking back to his pen. You would guess that he wasn't even bothered by your statement, but you didn't miss the way he bit his lip and his eyebrows furrowed as his scribbling slowed down before stopping completely, leaving the office silent aside from the quiet chatter of the Lounge outside and the occasional clinking of glasses and dishware.

"Do you enjoy this?" He asks after a moment of silence, placing his pen down beside his documents and staring down blankly at the pages. The exhaustion in his eyes is obvious, as well as the desperation swimming in his eyes once he tilts his head up to look at you.

"What do you... mean?" You ask quietly.

"Is this a joke?" The boy asks quietly, almost heartbreakingly solemn compared to his normal tone. No signs of manipulation, no flowery words to hide his intent, no careful planning of each and every syllable that bounced off his tongue. "Are- are you toying with me?"

It was just him.

"Of course not," You sigh, taking a seat on his desk. You can see how his thin eyebrows twitch at the action, as you were no doubt sitting on some sort of paperwork or the like. You notice how he stares back at his desk, expression unreadable to you as he clenches and unclenches his gloved hands on the smooth mahogany, the leather gloves creaking with every movement.

"Truly?" Once more, he's quiet, uncertain- a reflection of the small, scared boy that was still hiding deep within him. The boy who longed to have a fairytale story, to mean so much to someone and to be loved unconditionally. You hesitantly reach over and grab his hand, rubbing your thumb over the warm leather. You notice how he tenses, the slight stutter in his breath before a flush crawls up his neck and rests upon his pale cheeks, staining the tips of his ears.

"I would never toy with you like that," You admit quietly. The flush grows, and his lips quirk up in a small smile that he tries desperately to shut down. He takes another breath before he rises and his sky blue eyes meet yours, glazed over with unshed, grateful tears.

He gulps, and he takes another breath, allowing the smile to stretch over his features as he shakily turns his hand over and holds yours within it.

[iwritenarrativesandstuff]

Ok finally, finally, here is part 3 of my touch and relationships series: Partners! I'll be covering Kunikida and Chuuya here.

Here's Part 1: Friends in case you missed it, and Part 2: Mentees, underneath!

I Like to Write Things — So I realized that 3 am me is not coherent and... (tumblr.com)

I Like to Write Things — Part 2 (Mentees) of my notes on touch in bsd! If... (tumblr.com)

Now without further ado, let's start with Kunikida! This is actually the first solidified dynamic we see in the series and I think it does a good job of setting up the tone for not just the two characters, but also the series in general.

Their dynamic is at once straightforward and deeper than it seems. Dazai annoys Kunikida. Kunikida gets mad. Kunikida typically inflicts some kind of bodily harm on Dazai (played for comedy).

Yet, they work really well together. In terms of a professional partnership, I'd say it's the best in the series; they near perfectly fill in each other's weak spots as seen in the fight scene in the Entrance Exam story where they switch opponents. Kunikida respects Dazai because he always gets results, while he keeps them both on track. And I think Dazai respects Kunikida too. He speaks quite highly of him and his potential as leader to the younger members of the ADA, and despite thinking of him as straightforward, even simplistic, I think this might be something Dazai likes about him. Kunikida is exactly who he appears to be. He says exactly what he'll do and does it. He wears his ideals on his sleeve. Dazai can trust him for this very reason, and indeed, Dazai seems comfortable getting in the man's personal space (indirect contact).

On the flip side, for however well they work together, their relationship does not currently have much personal depth. The only significant direct contact between them is Kunikida's rather aggressive berating to behave on the job. It's a workplace relationship, not a personal one.

Wan implies that Kunikida actually does worry about Dazai but it seems that he's uncertain of whether to broach more serious topics in a workplace environment and so he doesn't say anything. On the flip side, Dazai sees fit to warn him about the dangers of taking his ideals too far, but otherwise doesn't really "get serious" with him.

And I think that's intentional. It's a strong partnership but relatively shallow on a personal level. Kunikida is a very consistent person who won't change the relationship. It's a safe dynamic for Dazai. And that's why, any contact between them is of a humorous nature (note, there still is contact - it is a significant relationship), as at this point, it doesn't really go beyond surface level. I wonder if their dynamic will develop more after this current arc... I certainly hope so.

And that brings us to the final dynamic, Dazai's former partner, Chuuya.

Their dynamic is easily one of my favourites to explore, as we're given a lot of content to work with and they're also foil characters. On a surface level, it seems as though Dazai's dynamic with Kunikida shares a lot in common with his former one with Chuuya - he certainly likes to irritate them and they both have a quick temper and tend to lash out as a response - but here's something interesting I noticed.

In the comedic scenes where Chuuya attacks Dazai, I can't remember an instance where he actually makes contact. Dazai dodges his strikes. Even in the scene where Dazai reveals his arm is uninjured in the fight against Lovecraft and Chuuya gets pissed (because he was worried...) he's still only readying a fist to punch him and his other hand is on his collar, not making direct contact.

When Chuuya does make direct contact with a blow, it is decidedly not played for laughs. I think about scenes where Chuuya attacks Dazai in the dungeon after his betrayal, or when he kicks the gun out of his hand in Fifteen, or when he punches him in the face during the DHC. These are callouts. They force Dazai to confront himself, something he hates doing. Any actual violence between them is no gag but carries a definite kind of emotional weight - another expression of the tension that constantly exists between them.

Unlike Dazai's relationships with Kunikida or Odasaku, which are comfortable and consistent - emotionally safe, his dynamic with Chuuya is fraught with conflict - emotionally unsafe. Connection with Chuuya often brings him pain and internal discomfort with himself because they are just so darn similar at their cores - so, Dazai dodges. He evades direct contact from Chuuya, so they can never really have the true slapstick dynamic he has with Kunikida or the comfortable coexistence he had with Odasaku.

Of course, the violence from Chuuya is countered by his very obvious concern and worry when Dazai gets hurt or is in actual danger - pushing him out of harm's way in Stormbringer, rushing over to him when he gets hit by Lovecraft, and the punch he gives him to save his life in Dead Apple. All this with his admittance of trust and the light punch to his chest after the Lovecraft fight, and it's fairly obvious that while Chuuya can't bring himself to admit Dazai matters to him, he does.

And if that were the end of it, then maybe we could assume that there's no reciprocal care on Dazai's end. Except, there's so much evidence this is not the case and most of it stems from the fact that for someone who avoids contact from Chuuya, he sure initiates an awful lot of it. Let's make a list of notable instances here:

Gets in his personal space regularly

Pats his head in Fifteen

Pokes him in the cheek to deactivate his ability in the Fifteen omake

Grabs his hand in Fifteen's fight scene anime adaptation (a rare mutual contact) or indirect contact (also mutual) in the novel with the drape

Carries him on his back so he can say goodbye to The Flags in Stormbringer

Catches him falling out of the sky after Corruption in Stormbringer

Nullifies Corruption in the DHC by touching his cheek then letting him rest in his lap

Nullifies Corruption at the resolution of Dead Apple much the same way

Implied to have laid him on his back and cleaned the blood off his face after the fight against Lovecraft

I... what do I even say here? Dazai initiates a ridiculous amount of contact between them, and when looking at it in chronological order, it seems these particular gestures become more emotional and less teasing as time goes on. Unfortunately, many of these instances of fondness occur when Chuuya is injured, grief-stricken or otherwise exhausted, which may contribute to Chuuya's apparent doubtfulness when it comes to Dazai having any helpful or "good" intentions.

Ultimately, the characterization of their dynamic when looking at touch shows two people who clash but care about each other... but are also both so emotionally constipated and prideful that they can barely admit that to themselves, let alone each other. I am begging for the return of the prison arc to kickstart at least some present-day development for them.

And that brings me to the end of my touch and relationships series which was really just more me rambling about Dazai's relationships with other people in the series. Hope this was enjoyable anyways.

[earlgreytea68]

Hi!

For all of us, who couldn’t watch the concert last night, please we want to hear your have moments, highlights and general feeling about the show)) hope you’re having a great day :)

I am happy to share all of the thoughts that I have from staying up waaaaay past my bedtime to watch this show. <3 And this got SO LONG, SORRY.

In no particular order:

They started with "Love from the Other Side," and Patrick's voice didn't sound quite warmed up to me, Idk. There were a couple of places where he didn't seem to hit the notes he wanted as comfortably as he usually does, and I was worried it was going to be a rough set. But his voice was excellent after that, so I think maybe it wasn't completely warmed up or something? I blame the weird way that they didn't quite know what time the show was going to start. But I thought he sounded truly excellent and they ended with "Centuries" and it was one of the best live versions of "Centuries" I've ever heard him sing, because I think sometimes that's a rough one with some of the notes being high.

Joe was there! And it felt like Patrick was noticeably happy to have his whole band back together. Patrick just seemed really happy the entire set. Lots of smiling.

One of the smiley moments came in the second song, which was "Sugar." Patrick started singing it and then could clearly hear the crowd singing back and he smiled so much and stepped back to let them finish the line. I love how much Patrick smiles when crowds sing to him, he clearly loves it (I feel like I would, too, if I were a person who wrote songs).

That said, it was a really weird setup for a concert. Like, the people directly in front of the stage were pretty sparse, and then waaaaay back they seemed to have a decent crowd, but there was a fair amount of empty space? I didn't watch the draft, but I assume the people upfront were, like, NFL people and not fans, which explains why Patrick was clearly hesitant to assume they'd know the songs, or that he would be able to hear the people who he knew would know the songs, because the fans were so far away. But the NFL people who were there seemed to be having a good time and seemed to know the songs, there just weren't many of them there. It just seemed like a weird concert to play. Even Pete, when he talked to the crowd, seemed a little uncertain because I think it was hard to gauge crowd reaction to anything, they were so separated from the audience. They've been playing such small venues, it must have been extra disconcerting.

Which is why I thought it was a somewhat unfortunate show for Joe's first show back. Only because they've been playing such electric shows full of so much audience affection, and this show definitely wasn't that, it was a much more detached and professional performance. Maybe that's exactly what Joe wanted for this first show back, that he didn't want anything too emotional. Actually, that makes some sense, so I hope that's what he was going for. Because I was thinking that if you didn't really feel like doing a show, it didn't feel like the kind of environment that would convince you to keep doing them. But maybe it was exactly what Joe wanted to ease back in! I really hope it was. He seemed like he was enjoying playing the new stuff. And he did his little "Sugar" move with Patrick.

At one point Pete mentioned the new album and said the next song they played was going to be a song off the new album and some guy in the crowd called out very clearly, "Fake Out!" Shout-out to that guy, that would have been me lol. (It wasn't "Fake Out." They played "Hold Me Like a Grudge.")

Speaking of "Hold Me Like a Grudge," Patrick looks like he absolutely adores singing that song. I can't get over it because it has so many words crowded in so fast and I find it so impossible to sing but he just looked delighted the entire time he was singing it, like he was having a blast. He especially seemed to relish, "Call you up and demand you have no fun without me, I'm like a storm on the horizon." He just really seemed to love singing those lines.

They RACED through this set. I am pretty sure they must have been told they had to be done playing by midnight local time, and they didn't get to go on until after 11, so they had less than an hour, and I feel pretty sure they'd probably had an hour set prepared. Pete talked very, very little and mostly they just finished a song, started the next one, finished a song, started the next one. I'm convinced this is why Pete didn't have the crowd sing Happy Birthday and settled for just having them shout "Happy Birthday, Patrick," because I'm pretty sure he was worried about the time constraint. He even sounded as he was saying it like he was unsure what to do but felt Patrick's birthday should be mentioned lol. Anyway, I noticed they didn't play "Uma Thurman," and that kind of surprised me because they played almost all of their hit singles and that one seemed like a notable absence, but I suspect they intended to play it and had to drop a song because of the time constraint and for whatever reason picked that one. Since it's on AB/AP, maybe it's hard to play and so it was easy to give themselves a break and decide to drop it. They did add "I Don't Care" to the set, which they haven't been playing recently, but again, that's what made the lack of "Uma Thurman" so noticeable to me, since they were playing their charted singles pretty heavily.

Another weird thing about this concert is they were using a backing track for Patrick in places, which maybe they always do, but it seemed like the balance was off because it was just really distracting.

Okay, so something I've been thinking that I haven't mentioned because I didn't want to give the impression that I don't like Joe when I think Joe is lovely and insanely talented and vitally important, but -- I'd been wondering a bit if the decrease in Peterick-y shippiness after the hiatus mightn't have more to do with Joe than with either Pete or Patrick. Idk, I was watching them all album cycle be so incredibly over the top with each other, and I was like, Well, they certainly came out of the pandemic swinging...., but then I was thinking about how we know Patrick had to work hard to convince Joe to come back after the hiatus, and we know that there was some tension between Joe and the Pete/Patrick dynamic. Which makes all the sense in the world. And, Idk, it also kind of makes sense that you would think, if you've got a friend feeling like a perpetual third wheel around you, that you'd dial back the PDA a little bit so they wouldn't feel so left out and awkward. Idk, because they've just been SO MUCH for the past few months, and I just kept wondering if maybe they've always really been just as close and solid in private and just not as outwardly performative about it, and so why the sudden public-ing now? They haven't had Joe around for the promotion, and I was like, "Is this coincidental timing, or is there a connection, that maybe they were being a little less careful because their friend wasn't right there in front of them?" Idk, I don't want to make any of them sound like jerks, because that is not at all how I mean any of this. Probably I just sound like the jerk. But anyway, seeing Joe back, I had a moment of wondering if there would be less Peterick in the concert. But! Then Pete and Patrick added a little "Arms Race" moment (maybe to make up for missing out on both GTA and "Saturday" moments since they sang neither song, unsurprisingly for this crowd) and so then I felt relieved and decided my theory was entirely incorrect and the pandemic just made Patrick think he had to make sure Pete knew how much he loved him lol.

Patrick wore his fedora and his hair was doing this adorable flyaway thing the whole concert and it was just great.

Pete wore his mesh shirt but covered with another t-shirt and then THAT covered with his So Much (for) Stardust jacket. He shed the jacket at some point in the concert, which was what revealed the mesh shirt sleeves. No rose harness or ruby heart necklace.

I love watching how Patrick adjusts his performance for the audience participation he's getting on any particular night. I guess I never really thought before about how obviously he must be able to hear how well the crowd knows whatever he's singing, and how he makes decisions on the fly about when to let them sing vs. when he knows they're not going to be able to fill it in for him. Like I mentioned above, he started singing "Sugar," even though usually in their concerts he doesn't, he lets the crowd sing the whole opening line. But I think it was clear he wasn't sure about the crowd. Then he could hear them singing along with him so he stepped back and let them sing the rest of the line. But it was also clear that he didn't think the crowd knew LFTOS, because he sang that whole song, whereas when he sang it at the smaller shows where he could hear the crowd singing along, he let the crowd take some of the lines. Idk, I guess I'd never really thought about that before, and watching Patrick make the decisions last night about when to call on the crowd and when to sing it himself, and to see those be different decisions than he's made in recent sets, really brought home to me exactly how much he's reading the crowd the whole time he's up there. It makes me want to make sure I always shout along because now I know he's listening for that support.

The other thing I've noticed is that Patrick settles into live versions of the songs that sometimes is slightly different than the recorded version, like, he'll hit slightly different notes or sing a melody in a slightly different way. Now, of course, I am drawing a complete blank on an example. Oh, he does it in "Thnks fr th Mmrs," at one point he sings "Thanks for the memories," like, descending? I think? Unless I'm making that up. He does it when he sings it live but not on the album version of the song. Idk, they're like little Easter eggs that show he's singing live, but he also tends to use the same ones over and over, so that sometimes I have a hard time remembering what's on the album version and what's a live version flourish. Which is why I'm doing a terrible job of coming up with an example. But ANYWAY, my point is I have enjoyed watching Patrick settle into his live flourishes for LFTOS. Like, he sings the "Sending my love"s at the end with a few more notes when he sings the song live than when he sings it on the album. Which brings me to: What a SINGER Patrick has really let himself grow into being. Comfortable with showing off a little, comfortable with handling the crowd so deftly. <3

Wow, is this long. Final observation: After the crowd shouted "Happy birthday, Patrick!" at Pete's request, Patrick gave a shy little thank you wave and then someone said, "Go, Pat, go." It sounded like Andy to me??? Which seems so unusual for him to talk, so maybe it was Joe? It didn't sound like Pete. Idk.

[studentbyday]

tw: perfectionism, self-doubt, anhedonia, burnout, uncertainty...you are under no obligation to read what follows...i just needed a place to sort things out, it's too messy in my head.

i like to think my perfectionism has mellowed out a little bit....sort of...sometimes...mostly, it now presents itself as "do the best that i know i can" and for better or for worse, my previous experiences have set that bar very high. i mean, what else am i going to do? what could possibly be a better use of my time than preparing for my future while i can?

@zzzzzestforlife wisely told me: it's important to balance preparing for the future and enjoying the present. if you spend all your time preparing for the future, by the time you're about to live it, you might not want it or anything anymore.

perhaps even before then you can get into that place where you don't want anything anymore. but i don't think it's that i don't want anything anymore...at least, not yet. there are lots of things i want that i know i'm not good enough to achieve and/or that current circumstances prevent me from achieving and/or that i'm just too tired to try to achieve rn. perhaps i could achieve them in time but by then, maybe it'll be too late. what if i ultimately fail? does that mean all my efforts have been for nought? it all contributes to a very high level of self-doubt and discouragement. and then i risk a self-fulfilling prophecy because what is the point of trying when i can't do it?

just so tired... it's not the kind of tiredness i immediately notice. it's the kind of tired i only notice only after its crept up on me and done its damage. and i'm not sure what i'm supposed to do. keep working / try to do more, or stop working / try to do less, somehow guilt free? if i keep trying to do more (i.e. focus on preparing for my future), i will eventually get to that point where i'm so burnt out and numb and crumble under the weight of self-doubt and of extremely high personal standards that i stop wanting anything anymore and get depressed. but if i stop working or just do less (or focus on other things that help me enjoy the present more), i will fail as i miss the mark again and again and again, get discouraged, crumble under the weight of self-doubt and of falling short, and get depressed.

but maybe i'm getting ahead of myself. i'm not sure who i will be in three years, if i will be better or worse. but i...still don't quite know what to do to prevent my mental health from tanking further as i know it has done for others in a similar position...those who were driven by passion for their field and felt pressured to work very hard because they needed to.

i'm sometimes terrified of the future. like this september, i will be doing more things than i usually do and what if something drops? and more broadly, will there be jobs out there that i qualify for that don't require me to move away? will it be worth it or will it not? sigh. again, i'm thinking about things i don't need to think about right now. but i don't like how i feel like i'm meandering towards where i'm meant to be instead of shooting like an arrow towards my goals. and i think the sooner i make a choice, the sooner i can course-correct if need be. but i also want to make the right choice because i've seen others make their choices quite quickly and end up feeling like their soul has been drained by them while also feeling trapped in the paths they've set. and i'm scared the same thing will happen to me. and i'm also scared of wasting time, of accumulating knowledge and skills but never having a secure and well-compensated job to use them in. sigh. perhaps i will feel better tomorrow. i've just been feeling really uncertain about everything lately...

oohh, i really don't like the feeling of any of this 😣😖

[sadistic-softie]

Something else is wrong with me, but I have no idea.

I always feel so worried that my stupidity is going to lead me astray and get me into troubles with people that I don't intend and get me into misunderstandings and upset people on accident that I mean well to because I'm not very smart when it comes to pretty much anything. But I'm trying my best. I really am. I'm bad at it but I'm trying so hard. There's a lot of things I don't understand. There's a lot of things that confuse me. And there's even more things that I'm extremely uncertain about.

I like to follow fair rules and morals, simply put. I may be complex, but that is the simplest part of me. I very much like and prefer to know that I'm doing the right thing and also to know what it is exactly that I'm supposed to be doing in any given situation. I hate not knowing what to do. I hate not knowing my responsibilities. I hate being confused about my role. And to be honest, when it comes to things that I'm not really paying attention to I tend to be a bit slow, to be blunt. If I'm too focused on the bigger picture I can't see the details and if I am too focused on the details have trouble seeing the bigger picture. Sometimes I even need things to be pointed out to me to notice that there's something to be looked at. That scares me.

I worry about what I lack, mentally, and if l'll really be able to fit in with that lacking. I worried that the slacking will get me ostracized. It has already happened. I worry I will not be able to have friends properly, I worry that I won't be good enough for my dream job, I worry that I will be too slow to catch on to important things. I worry that I will misunderstand every social cue just like I have in the past. I don't understand myself that I really try hard to, but all I understand is the psychological aspects that made up my past and which motivates me to continue behaving the way that I do on an emotional level in my current state of mind.

I know that I usually won't be comfortable and know what I'm supposed to do, and in places where there are no clear-cut rules and no real right or wrong answers, I get extremely nervous and I fumble a lot and even panic, but I'm doing my best. I do worry that it's going to be about more than just sucking it up and dealing with not being as good as other people. I worry that it will affect my ability to get and keep a job or ever have lifelong friendships or even a romantic partner. I don't really know what to do in any aspect of my life, but for now I'm just going to keep doing my best to be smart and educated and confident and emotionally available and reflective, and anything else that I can be.

I know a lot of the things that are wrong with me but there is more to it that I don't know and that drives me crazy because since I don't know what's wrong with me I can't fix it and I can't manage it and it causes problems. I've done everything in my power to determine what is wrong with me as much as possible, and I have found a lot I'm getting mentally diagnosed, but there is stuff that I still just don't know and has gone unexamined and that drives me nuts. This has been driving me crazy over the past few months. Especially considering that I'm going to be hopefully going into college soon this year or next year.

When it comes to my life I tend to want to go for the more logical choice because it feels more safe and understandable to me, but more and more things are becoming emotional choices in my life and choices that don't rely on logic or at least don't rely on it purely, and that scares the shit out of me. I don't really know how to handle this type of thing. I can handle emotional things on their own or independently, but I can't say the same for when it's a part of something important.

All of this has been kind of floating in my head for a very very long time and I think that it's been something that's kind of been instilled in me from a very young age and I know that there's something about me that is different compared to others beyond the mental diagnosis is I have but of course nobody can really figure it out so I'm kind of just stuck here wondering and being scared of what's to come and not really knowing what my limits are and what that means for me moving forward into adulthood, but for what it's worth, I'm trying my best. I always have my sights set on self-improvement and improvement in general, and I always try my best, even if I think it won't work out.

[davy-zeppeli]

I am constantly dealing with the fact that I am always the problem in so many situations. My most recent situation is still Dan. Shock. But it's still eating away at me constantly and I'm tired, man.

When you sleep with someone, it's always safe to not try take it to heart or make or deep, but it's hard not to when you sleep together multiple times, and then recently when you sleep together again (properly) after almost 4 months it ends with you cuddling and sleeping in eachother's arms being all domestic. It's hard to not think there's more there when he kisses your head when he thinks your asleep. It's hard to not think there's more there when after you kissed for the first time in months, he constantly held you and scratched your head. It's hard to not think there's more when he constantly holds your hand in and around these situations.

And the above is exactly why I'm fucking tired man. I keep expecting more, I keep knowing that more is possible, but it's been so long that I just know it's not going to work out. I can feel it so fucking strongly. There'll be days where we're close, but nothing happens. There'll be days where we're just business as usual. But then there's the days I've spoken about above - days of tenderness and honestly what can only be described as some form of genuine love. The only issue is that the care and love is never acknowledged or declared properly, and that's why I'm miserable about it. I'm essentially waiting around for an offer that I'm not even sure is concrete because of how hit and miss the moments are.

He's my best friend. He's said I'm his - and that's another reason this fucking sucks. I want to say something, I want to ask for clarification as to if we're just friends with benefits, but I will always run the risk of fucking things up. I can't afford to lose him as a friend because at the moment he's really all I've got - he's probably the one thing preventing me from doing something drastic, in all honesty. I just so desperately want to know what friends with benefits act the way we do. When everyone we work with can see it and make comments to me about it (and him at times as well) it's usually a sign there's been a 'mission failed successfully' somewhere along the way. But then again, this raises the question of "do I even know what a friends with benefits situationship looks like?". Do they cuddle after a long day sometimes? Probably. Do they make out on his living room floor after laughing and laughing at silly jokes and comments? Also probably. Do they plant little kisses on you when they think you aren't aware and won't notice? That, I'm not so sure about. The only benefit there is to... well, I'm not even sure.

I just want him to tell me if this is going anywhere. I'm very transparent - I am always 24/7 clearly into him. He knows this, and if there's any way he doesn't know this, I'd be absolutely baffled. I have been waiting and waiting and waiting for something, anything, for 6 months at this point, and what I've got has made me more uncertain than before.

I know that inherently I just want to be loved and I want to have someone I can love - I just can't shake the feeling now that I'm never going to get what I want, and I'm going to have to watch it be taken away from me over and over again.

[apricusnights]

Olympus Tournament Story: Uncertain Future.

Location: Research Facility, Olympus.

Ruby and Oct found themselves in a very strange battle with the Mikey Minos animatronic. Despite Ruby's speed and Oct's firepower, the machine was proving to be a capable foe. The Paradise Senior Partners has said they had used the minotaur to gather fight data which likely meant it adapted itself to deal with whomever it fought.

Ruby's attacks proved to be mostly ineffective but Oct was landing several strong hits. The machine hadn't had much time to read Oct as he wasn't in the tournament and only fought in part of one round. The two grappled and crashed through several walls sending people scattering. With Oct taking the minotaur's focus Ruby was able to chip away at it while it was mostly defenseless.

During a clash the minotaur and Oct broke through a wall on the side of the ship, both teetering on the edge but Oct pushed back and landed a strong blast to the minotaur's torso. It retaliated by knocking him to the ground and stepping on one of his arms. Ruby rushed to help but was caught in the animatronics' grasp. It began to squeeze but before any major damage could be dealt, the creature was struck from behind by Summer.

Ruby took advantage and managed to grab her weapon, slamming the blade into the minotaur's face which made it drop her and stagger towards the hole in the wall. The moment Oct was freed he let loose with his firepower, blasting the minotaur out of the opening and sending it falling into the sea.

By the time Oct had gotten back up he could only watch as Ruby ran to the elevator and used the key she had been given. Summer tried to follow but was pulled out of the room again by her previous opponent, Chimera. Oct decides it best to try and help Summer against her foe but at the same time Ruby's sister Yang had been following her sister's location via aShine tracker and was headed to the helipad that Ruby's elevator was taking her.

Location: Control Room, Olympus.

Lowell: "Attention, this is Flavian Lowell of Apricus. We are experiencing several issues. If you can hear this, the Olympus vessel requests assistance. We are unable to comply with the request to return to port. The controls seem to have been locked. We have sailed into a major storm, the vessel has sustained minor damage."

"Captain Hector Larsen has requested any available ships head to our location to help with evacuation. Captain Larsen is doing his best to keep the damage to the ship minimal. I will be ordering the evacuation shortly. Over."

Clearing his throat, Lowell switch the broadcast over to the ship's speakers. "Attention everyone. Flavian Lowell here. While this vessel is able to withstand a good deal of damage, for safety purposes I am issuing an evacuation notice. Several helicopters are on standby and will take off as soon as they are able."

"There are plenty of escape crafts available as well. Please navigate to the closest one. The crafts are programmed to take you safely to land. If all else fails, every one of your rooms is equipped with an escape pod which can be launched. An emergency beacon will be activated should you require use of this method."

"I urge you all to remain calm and everything will be fine. The Apricus City Council will oversee the evacuation. I have set this message to repeat every few minutes. Stay safe everyone."

Location: Deck Twenty, Olympus.

Kara: "You heard the man. It's time to take our leave." Opening up the hatch of one of the escape crafts."

Sunil: "What about Hugo? What about Cerise? We can't.."

Evander: "We can't stay here, your friends were gone in a flash of light. Who knows where they got teleported to if that even happened. Besides, Puck is still weak from nearly getting kidnapped by those Fae freaks."

Puck: "I hate that he's got a point."

Sunil: "I'm sending a message to Hugo and Cerise. I don't know if it'll reach them but Evander is right, we stay here and we might wind up at the bottom of the sea."

Night: "I can't.."

Sunil: "I know, it's your best friend and your girlfriend but you're not going to be any good to them dead."

Kara and Evander help Puck into the escape craft followed somewhat reluctantly by Sunil, and Night. After a few others board and the craft hits capacity the door shuts. The craft launches away from the ship, heading to land and activating an emergency beacon.

Location: Helipad Seven, Olympus.

The elevator Ruby was in finally reached the helipad. She stepped out and had to shield herself from the rain. This storm had appeared out of nowhere and hardly seemed to be a natural occurrence. Something was very wrong. She looked over to see the two Paradise Senior Partners waiting in a specialized helicopter. The one still wearing a broken mask opened the helicopter door and held his hand out.

Before Ruby could get there a commotion was heard as Summer, and Oct blasted their way through the decks and ended up next to Ruby. Chimera followed close behind and instantly began fighting with Summer again. to make matters worse Yang had managed to fight through the crowd and was rushing to Ruby.

Ruby barely had time to think before she was knocked out from behind by another Paradise Entertainment member..one of their newest. He lifted her up and carried her over, putting her in the helicopter.

As he began to climb in he heard someone yelling for him. Gouki had been chasing him through the entire ship and finally found him. As Gouki approached, Chimera broke away from Summer, leaping over and landing a kick that sent Gouki sliding back. Chimera and the masked man boarded the helicopter which instantly began to take off. Oct was unable to take a shot at it due to Ruby being on board but he did manage to launch a tracking device and stick it to the helicopter's underside.

Yang blinked, trying to understand was taking place just as a rumbling was heard and the ship began to shake even more. Without hesitation Summer ran to Yang, grabbing her by the arm and throwing her into one of the escape crafts just as the door was closing. Yang could only look out of the window as the craft dropped into the sea and sped off as it's beacon activated.

The masked Senior Partner looked out of the helicopter and noticed something rising out of the water near the Olympus.

Senior Partner: "It's a shame we can't stay and watch. I'd love to see how the project turned out. Ah well, places to go and people to see.."

The helicopter flew into the distance.

Location: Main Deck, Olympus.

Helicopters, and various escape crafts had all been successfully launched. The evacuation had been as smooth as one could hope. That was until the ship itself felt as if it would be torn apart. A strange looking creature had risen from the depths, the Senior Partner's project.

The creature seemed to have a mix of multiple arms as well as tentacles. It's body crashed through part of the ship before clawing it's way to the main deck. A somewhat skull like face roared at any who would oppose it as it's appendages ripped chunks of the ship apart.

Oct, Summer, and Gouki found themselves joined by members of the Apricus council and by other fighters who had stuck around. Each ready to confront the beast.

To be concluded...

[seasideretreat]

Things are not things

We do not know what is there and what is not there. Everything is doubtful. What we see in life is that general things are located in the variety of things that we know. But things are not things. When we see the essence of things happen, we do not realize the thing that is utilized by the essence of the things. Everything is uncertain. What we see in the vast expanse of the universe is that things are totally strange and abstract in the totality of happy existence: we do not realize what is going on.

I am crazy. I do way too much labour for what I get for it. I work too hard. Always have. I do not understand the art of taking it easy. I do not understand the art of not giving a damn. I always have to be the best, always have to be in control. I am working so hard right now, and I enjoy it, but I know it is a dispicable situation; but this is what knowledge does, it makes us make the best of a dispicable situation, although I don't know if that is very eloquently put. Today I was working and I thought: I am gonna stop. But then I thought of something my mother said: sometimes you just have to man up. And then I did this and I got through the whole thing, but then the troubles came and I still had a really hard time. Manning up can help you get over you psychological weaknesses, but not over your psychical weaknesses.

Hard work is not good for writing, I think. But the thing is, everything is all right when you have the knowledge. The thing about hard work is that you don't notice you're doing it until it is too late. So with the knowledge, that you know that you're working hard, you won't keep it going on until it is too late, perhaps. You will work hard for variety. Or maybe you will just work hard to get results. The thing is, taking it easy will not usually lead to productivity, although skill will bring success as Ecclesiastes says. But this is the thing: people work hard for results, but they end up dying that way, whereas those of us who take it easy will be better off in the long run - that's also a topic in Ecclesiastes. It's not like we're naturally predisposed towards hard work or taking it easy: most people just go about randomly, as Socrates said, and do not examine their lives for why. We can always do something - the hard work yields an infinity of results, but it doesn't make us happy, whereas taking it easy will make us happy, but it has to be cultivated moderately, which is also what Ecclesiastes meant to say, I believe. This is the thing: when we're writing we're hard at work, but when we're not writing we can ALSO be very hard at work, thinking, preparing, labouring et cetera. It's all terrible, but this is how life is. As they say: life is a bitch and then you die. I don't know. I guess we'll just have to accept that it's really hard to write consistently, but this is why it drives me crazy, because I know I can write whenever I want, but I just can't think of anything to write when I really need to, or something - and this is what proves that thinking is a job, a hard job maybe even, although I am not sure about that. They say the best job is being an actuary, which is odd, but it has to do with the amount of satisfaction we get from doing stimulating work that also requires your head, and an actuary has to do a lot of calculations, so he has a challenging job but not back-breaking labour et cetera, its rewarding I don't know what the word is, point is he just likes his job and we all hate ours. I know that generally speaking jobs in academia are highly regarded, because you get to think about big topics and yet you're expected to hold lectures and so on and so forth, and it's not anonymous or mechanical work, its not repetative et cetera, but who cares right? Do we really know anything? Maybe working in academia is just horrible because of all the meetings or because you never get to speak your mind or express yourself, or because you always have to suck up to the higher placed academicians. Why am I even writing? It's because I am in despair, existentially, but I know now that there's a chance for gayety when we are like this; likewise, I might go into taking it easy mode and I'd have to write much more densely and yet it wouldn't mean anything, at least now I can pretend I am an Englishman. And the best thing is: I don't feel I have to write endlessly! I can stop and collect myself and then just continue writing. But for the past few days I have been writing about writing and I don't really know why, but I just roll with it because it results in such long paragraphs and I always feel very satisfied when I vomit out a long paragraph. But I have really already said virtually everything I was gonna say anyway and now it's just a matter of tying off the text somehow I suppose.

I spoke about knowledge, and that's a good thing, but I am really not knowledgeable. I want to be knowledgeable but I just can't become it. The only thing I know how to do is write, but it is just tiring somehow - after about a day of writing I am done with it for the whole month. We all know that super-influential works of philosophy are always written fast, like in the spur of the moment, but we also see that if we write a lot every day we become crazy. I don't know. I just can't keep up the hard labour, because I am not a hard worker I suppose, I prefer to do it easily and not worry too much, but there ain't no way forward. Of course, like anyone, I like my madness, so I don't strive too hard to eliminate it, but I should because it ruins my life. I once read someone's tweet on Twitter that said: "I don't know how to relax and it's ruining my life." I felt the same way, but I am always relaxing, my life is an endless vacation, were it not that I have a job right now and everybody thinks it is great, it's really quite astounding how having a job can improve your life, but now I don't want to write anymore because I have a job - I mean, I could still write tiny pieces every day, and I love that, but it is not enough for the world, maybe, we don't want it, or I dunno, maybe it doesn't matter. I will just try to stick to 200 words per day for the most part then, because what does it matter? My writing is not that good, I dunno, I have written really good things in a really short amount of time, but in the grand scheme of things, you really don't need to write fast, slow but steady wins the race and all that; I mean, nobody is waiting for my book, I just need to write it slowly, then I will be happier; but maybe I can write in the meantime, I mean, THAT'S WHAT I'M SAYING: You got to do something. This is the horror of writing. It's really exhausting, but I can't think of anything better to do, and so I will write in my free time and then I cannot recover in time for my job, I mean, if anything, writing is ruining my life, as a kind of bad habit, I mean, it is a seated activity after all and this is also Ecclesiastes "Much study wearies the body."

You have to understand, writing gives me so much, but it cannot solve all my problems. That's why I don't want to write all the time. But I've been typing away at this post for way too long already, but it's typing which is less labour-intensive than hand-writing, less liable to damage your body, but that doesn't really matter because psychologically it is supposedly really bad, but as I said in my last post I feel so badass when I write and I just really need it, I want to write, I just don't know when to stop.

[simp4ace]

"You're really cute, you know?"

For Ace and a male reader please? Good luck with event <3

heyy Franky, thank you for joining in the event and for the kind words<3 I've never written for the male reader before so let's hope I write this alright😅😅😅 I hope you will enjoy this❤

❤Loving Portgas D. Ace❤

Day 2: "You're really cute, you know?" ~ Ace x M!Reader

Day 1

"-and that one up there is Hercules."

You pointed your fingers toward a group of stars in the northern sky, outlining into the air so that your boyfriend could spot it more easily.

"That's his legs, and his arms are raising high."

"And what did Hercules do?" Following your gaze, Ace asked curiously.

It was a chilly summer night, and the two of you were curling up side by side on the crows nest, doing your regular night-watch. Ace had insisted on doing it with you, otherwise "he can't sleep at night without y/n."

And that was how you found yourself lying against the mast, teaching Ace about Greek mythology through constellation instead of doing your task. The night was perfectly calm, and only the crashing sounds of the waves could be heard from afar, so you thought it would be no biggie to forget the duty for a while. Anyway, you two didn't always have time to be alone like this, especially on a rowdy ship like Moby Dick.

"He did ... lots of things," You stroked your chin, "There were tons of adventures and fights and dramas. It would be super long if I told you from the very start. It would be boring."

"Aw, come on, adventures and battles never sound boring, y/n," Ace begged; since when was he so interested in mythology?

Sighing, you finally gave in to his pleas.

"Ah, fine, so, this dude was the son of Zeus and Alcmene. That's why Hera had a great hatred for him, and most of his life's troubles and sufferings were caused by her. Let's start with the time when she sent a pair of giant snakes into his crib when he was just an infant."

"She did what?"

You told him what had happened, and Ace seemed to be very attentive at first, but as the story went on, he became more and more distracted. Resting his chin on his folded arms, the freckled boy watched as you kept recounting the endless feats of Hercules, letting the stories go in one ear and out of the other.

Right now, on his mind, there was only the image of you, with your eyes shining as ever and your soft lips moving incessantly. You looked so smart, so handsome, and Ace just couldn't get enough.

Sure enough, the fire boy didn't give a shit about all the history of the Gods nor any adventures of that Hercales guy, or whatever his name was. It was just one of his excuses to be with you, to keep listening to your voice. Ah, your voice! Oh, he loved how it sounded like heaven to his ears. Everything about you was like heaven. Maybe you could be one of the Greek Gods from the stories you told. With such beauty and erudition, there was a high chance, Ace thought to himself.

Getting too carried away by the story (once you had clicked on something, you couldn't stop talking about it), you didn't notice the unusual silence up until now. It was only when you accidentally glanced to the side and saw your boyfriend's dreamy face that you stopped. Funny how he made you talk all by yourself all this time, this guy!

"Hey!!" Snapping fingers in front of Ace's face to get his attention, you felt less annoyed seeing him almost jump in his seat. "Are you listening to me?"

"Uhhhhh, yes? Yes, I am." Your boyfriend awkwardly scratched his hair, but his uncertain tone sold him out.

"Then what am I talking about?"

Ace made a funny face, and you couldn't help but chuckle a bit at it.

"Uhh, something ... something about killing ... Etheryus, yeah?"

"He never killed that jerk, which is disappointed. And that was Eurystheus, you idiot." You said, watching his pretended surprise face amusingly.

"You look so stupid, Ace."

Ace knew he could lie no more, so he just laughed it off instead.

"And you look so cute, y/n," He said, with the biggest grin ever, "You're really cute, you know?"

"Think you could get away with that?" You grunted, but your heart softened right away with his words and his delightful smile. No, you were not cute; your boyfriend was, which was unfair because you could never get mad at him for long.

"I don't know. Maybe?" Ace pressed a quick peck to your cheek, and you huffed not so pleasedly.

"Fine," you sighed.

"You win this time, Portgas."

But both of you knew he would always win.

Just like the way he had won your heart from the very start, always.

And what could you say; it was just unfair. Your boyfriend was really cute, and that was unfair.

Very.

tag list: @fire-fist-ann @smoleevee ❤

[undertaker1827]

Hi dearie I'm back again. First I hope you are doing well, second can you do Sebastian, Claude, Grell (I honestly love her hair), and Undertaker with a s/o who can only see souls? Like they can't see anything else and it's through seeing souls they can tell if someone is a demon angel human reaper etc. and how they know who is talking. Sorry if it's confusing

I am thank you, hope you are too! And yes of course, it’s not confusing at all. Enjoy!

Masterlist

-

Sebastian

Sebastian is very much intrigued by this

As someone who can almost always tell whether a person is human, demon or otherwise because he’s a demon, the fact that you are a human yet can somehow only see souls is incredibly interesting to him

He might ask you every so often to describe the soul of a random person you see while you’re walking together, difficult though it is to explain, purely to see if you description matches up to what he sees

His interest simply grows when you describe a woman’s soul as soft and warm, like a glowing lamplight or a gentle voice

Those were perhaps the best words he’d ever heard be used to describe a human soul, and they were exactly the ones he would have chosen for this woman

He then asks about himself

Obviously you know he is a demon and he’s seen plenty enough of them to know what they are like on a spiritual level - they don’t have souls, per se, but what you’re seeing is the closest thing a demon can manage, perhaps the gaping hole where a soul used to be millennia ago

You describe him as dark and cold, the dangerous, spine chilling kind that makes bile rise in the back of your throat before you’ve even realised you’re not alone

The demon can’t help but smile though, because you’re at great pains to impress upon him that although this is what you see, the way he is with you couldn’t possibly be any more different and that this is in no way a reflection of your thoughts on him, of how you see him

He reassures you that he understands and that again, this is exactly what he sees in other demons

He still can’t quite work out just how you ended up with this ability as opposed to ‘sight’ in the traditional sense, but that simply adds another layer of mystery to the whole affair and he can’t help but want to explore it more

Claude

Claude can see souls in the same way as Sebastian can and it’s rare to say the least that you have the same gift

It’s definitely a mystery that he might like to solve, but Claude is a bit less intrigued than the other demon

He does ask you to describe his soul, or what was left of it, to check that you were actually seeing the same things, but beyond that, it’s just one of many different types of sight to him

Something that really caught his attention was when it turned out you could see on duty reapers, even though you weren’t going to die

You were walking together and you grabbed the demon’s arm, eyes locked on a man wearing a smart black suit who was standing on the roof of an apartment complex, a small black book in hand

Claude watched you attentively to see what you would make of him

“He doesn’t have a human soul,” you started, “but it’s not dark and twisted in the way that yours is.” Claude hummed in response and murmured

“Go on,,”

“He just seems ... neutral. No agenda or anything, impartial.” You turned back to Claude and smiled when you found him nodding

He explained that you had encountered a reaper, and as you said they are entirely impartial to everything, simply doing their job

He also told you that you could likely see them for the same reason as you could see souls, although he was still uncertain as to what that reason was

You have seen a few reapers while walking together, most of whom ignored you and went about their days

The occasional one however, would turn to look at you both as you went past, a momentary bit of interest in their eyes before they came back to themselves and buried their noses in their little books - To Die lists, apparently - and acted as if nothing had happened

Claude told you it was because they were more focused on finishing their work and clocking off on time than investigating the sight that a demon and a human who could see souls must make

Grell

Grell is one of the few reapers who would rather do anything else before doing her job and going home, so when she first saw you - or, more accurately, - sensed you, she went to investigate immediately

She just couldn’t resist

You were very definitely human, but there was something off about, something with a supernatural air, so she had to go and find out more

She doubted Will would appreciate it, but that was decidedly besides the point

She aimed to keep her distance for a few moments just to observe you from afar, but you tacked onto her presence almost immediately

Impressive really, especially given that humans weren’t supposed to be able to see on duty reapers

From the look on your face, you knew she wasn’t human, so she didn’t bother to cloak her scythe or hide the fact that she just jumped from the roof of a four storey building and landed on her feet

You were quite focused on her crimson blade, somewhat unsurprisingly, though as she got closer, she realised you weren’t actually looking at it

You could sense it, just as you sensed her, but you couldn’t actually see it, and Grell was no stranger to how someone looked when they couldn’t see their hand a few inches from their face

She ended up staying there and talking to you for quite a long time, you being surprised that she understood your strange situation so quickly

She explained to you then that all reapers were incredibly short sighted, and she recognised the lack of sight in you as well

Grell always made a point of coming to see you once she had finished working after that, or even during work for that matter, then one cup of coffee between you turned into a series and you were falling in love before you knew it

The reaper fell for you just as quickly, and you were made all the more interesting by an ability that she had never seen in a human before

Undertaker

Undertaker also knew you were different from the first time he saw you

His vision was frankly horrendous and he utterly refused to wear glasses so that nobody would see his eyes, so he knew exactly how you were navigating around because you were doing it the same way he did

He was walking down the cobbled side street away from his shop when he noticed you walking the other way

You found you couldn’t look away from him, his neutral version of a soul so different from a human’s, yet somehow tainted with something else

He was studying you in the same way as your steps gradually brought you closer together, your soul like any other human’s yet you were so very, very different

He stopped walking when you were almost eye to eye, you doing the same, which left you both standing and openly staring into each other’s souls

“Now this is interesting, don’t you think?” The mortician hummed, you nodding in wide eyed wonder

“I’ve never met someone like you before,” you told him, and he knew you weren’t talking about his somewhat unique appearance

“I don’t doubt it. Can I interest you in some tea? I don’t think it’s poison,” he hummed with a quirky grin

You were already laughing and you accepted his offer gladly - it was very cold out

The tea didn’t taste like any you’d ever had before - a home brew, evidently - but it was by far the best

Undertaker explained to you that he was a reaper and that was how he knew you were different

He smoothly deflected you when you asked why he was working as a mortician rather than reaping souls, directing the conversation to focus more on you, but you didn’t press the matter

You fully understood why he wouldn’t want to tell you, someone he had only just met something so personal

He did tell you eventually, late one night when you were curled up against his chest and you had been in a relationship for a long time

You kissed him after that, slow and gentle with one moment stretching into a thousand, from the pure joy that this open display of trust brought on

[my-writings-and-musings]

First off I'm a big fan of your writing style and Ii absolutely love how you write the bots. I was wondering if you would be opening to writing more for that one prompt where a bot's S/O can't accept compliments easily. I'd would really love it if you did it with Megatron, Swerve, and Fort Max if you can. 🥺

Thanks again for all the work you do 💞

Thank you! I do try to stand out a bit but keep it close to canon! I can also definitely write Megs and Swerve, I'm trying to limit the number of characters so I can get through asks faster, hope that's okay!

Megatron

"You're learning at exceptional speed, I've never had a better student."

The words were so startling, even if hardly unprompted, that the data pad in your hands nearly slid free.

"Oh, I doubt that!" you replied, smile that didn't meet your eyes forming on reflex. Sitting at the very desk you were seated on, Megatron unfortunately didn't take your response in stride, and instead blinked in surprise. Your words hadn't managed to throw him off as they did so many others. Pretending you didn't notice, you went right back to scanning the prose he'd praised you for coming up with just moments before.

"I can assure you..." he began, a little more softly. The prickle of anxiety made you tense on the spot, like a cat preparing to jump for dear life. Personal experience was telling you that this wasn't safe, that praise was always a false flag for something foul, but you were left frozen on the spot. Warring emotions of self preservation and fondness for the mech kept you still as he continued. "I have had the opportunity to work with many individuals, and I am quite certain you are among the most gifted."

"I don't think-"

"Y/N." he interrupted, soft and gentle yet firm. You flinched, and he left his own data pad to lift your chin with a digit. Tears gathered in your eyes on reflex, and you tried to rub them away, twisting between feeling foolish for crying and being wary still of untrustworthy words. Yet there was little anyone could doubt in his kind red optics.

"I know what it is, to doubt anyone could say anything pleasant on your behalf." You sniffled at how cleanly he cut into the heart of the pain. "But please trust me when I say; I find you a remarkable individual, and you deserve to hear it."

Swerve

"I don't think anyone has ever mixed a drink that well on their first try!"

Uncertain how the bot could find the odd smelling concoction to be at all tasty, you brushed off the words both out of habit and disbelief, as it wasn't too hard to believe Swerve was just sparing your feelings. He did consider you his favorite squishy, after all.

"You don't have to pretend, Swerve." you replied more or less playfully, the small bit of pain at your perceived failure easy to quash down after a lifetime of practice.

"There's no need to pretend, this is top notch!" he replied emphatically, taking another deep drink to emphasize his point. You were more than a little baffled by his commitment to the part. There was no need to keep it up, and most people would see that by now. Uncertainty made you shift on the bar, your hands pushing the mixers you'd used back into some semblance of order so that they might be occupied with something productive.

"Seriously, you're not going to hurt my feelings." you said a little more softly, looking away from him while you spoke. There was a powerful desire to end the conversation here, lest it go somewhere that could hurt you, so you prayed the barkeep would stop pretending and let it be. For your sake, at least...

"But I mean it." he insisted, making you double down on looking away. Before you could indulge your instinct to flee a tender hand cupped your tiny body, the bot equivalent of a loose hug for your small human self. Vulnerability powerful enough to make you tremble also made it impossible to look at him as he spoke. "Hey, don't be sad, I really mean it okay?"

A gap toothed smile met your gaze when it finally raised, and you allowed yourself to be pulled in for a proper hug to his broad front.

"I know better than anyone how hard it is to hear nice things about yourself sometimes..." he said, leaving it at that as his embrace did the rest of the talking. He wanted you to know he meant it, with all of his spark, and he was willing to wait as long as it took for you to believe him.

[cannibal-witchh]

Painting Heisenberg's Nails

Karl Heisenberg x Reader

(The hands belong to the beautiful Mads Mikkelsen 🖤)

Written by cannibal_witchh

Contains: Fluff, A little sexual context, A little explicit language, and definitely cringe

Notes: This is more in regards to my hand fetish, I am highly attracted to hands with rings, nail polish, and veins...so I decided to write a cringey story! It's extremely short but I wanted something a little different then just fucking.

"Seriously, doll?", he let out an exagerrated sigh, walking around his littered study room with his hands behind his head. "Please!", you begged, spinning in his desk chair, fidgeting with a metal trinket he had gifted you. It was a metal flower, it was coarse and rough in texture but you loved it. It was just like him and of course, him making it made it hold a greater importance to you.

"N-O, no! Can you imagine if the other lords saw me?", he shook his head with a grin, walking towards you, placing both his hands flat on your thighs and leaning towards you. You put your face right infront of his, nearly standing up to match his height. "Please, Karl!", you pleaded, pushing out your lower lip to pout. " Real mature. The many decades of being single and the one time I decide to be with anyone, I pick someone younger who whines.", he laughed, giving your thighs a tight squeeze. His glasses began to slide down his bridge, and he brought his hand up to pull them up to the top of his head. You always enjoyed when he did that, his spectacles would grab a few front hairs back and it would show more of his charming face. Anytime he did something with his hair you found it very attractive as a matter of fact.

"But you like it,", you smiled pecking him on the tip of his nose with a kiss. "Yes, yes I do.", he chuckled with a wide toothy grin. " Sooo...please?", you shot your last shot with your request and you witnessed the Lord Heisenberg release another heavy sigh. "Fine. Geez, there, aren't I a nice boyfriend?", he teased rolling his eyes at you.

A few moments had passed and the two of you had sat at his table. It was trashed with crumpled up papers and old scraps of old metal, you were used to the mess at this point so it didn't particularly trigger you. "Let's get this over with, princess.", Heisenberg peeled his gloves off revealing well sculpted aged hands. Veins webbing along his hand, wrists and fingers. Scars decorating all around them, and a large onyx ring and silver ring resting above two of his knuckles. You didn't see his hands often, he was always handling metal and he preferred to miminize as much damage to himself as he could. For a moment you admired his large masculine hands, before looking at him. " Ok, just relax or whatever it is you old guys do.", you winked shaking the nail polish paint bottle. " This old guy stares at his cute little buttercup.", he propped his head up in the palm of one hand, and slipped his other onto your's. He flashed a wink and smiled as his cigar bobbed between his teeth.

You unscrewed the nail polish cap and began painting black onto his nails. He made an obnoxious gagging sound and began fanning the aroma away from his long nose. " Smells like ass!", he complained pulling his cigar away from his lips. " And your cigars don't?", you raised an eyebrow, now moving to paint his ring finger, the finger that had the large onyx ring on it.

"Such a wild buttercup,", he grinned taking in another puff of his cigar. " You really do hang out too much with me. You get more and more fiesty everyday. And a big smart ass.", he exhaled grey clouds as they swirled and danced infront of you. The smell didn't agitate you much, you had been with him long enough that his smoking addiction was a regular everyday thing.

You were now finished with the first coat on his hand and he pulled it close to examine. " Hmm..the things, I seriously do for you.." He teased freeing his other hand to allow you to begin on. " You are such a drama queen.", you darted your eyes at him, dipping the brush back in the bottle for more paint.

" So why black?"

"It's hot."

He rolled his eyes at you once more and began to levitate a dagger in the air beside him. It spun and flipped all around to keep him entertained. Suddenly, he brought the dagger to trace your inner thigh, sending goosebumps along your leg. " Bad! Wait until this is dry...then we can.", you demanded swatting the knife away from your innermost thigh. " Can't even give me something to entertain myself with. Such a cruel women.", he whined throwing his head back to let out a bored groan. " Seriously Karl, you can get some afterwards.",, you finished his ring finger, delicately stroking any missing spots of black paint.

"Oh, what a wicked princess!", he dramatized continuing his complaints while pulling his cigar back in for a puff. "Almost done...", you muttered focusing heavily on creating smooth paint strokes. Heisenberg continued watching you for a moment then looked at his newly painted nails with an uncertain expression. "Ok, I'm going to do the second coat and then I'll be done.", you lightly smiled at your impatient boyfriend. He didn't seem to say anything, instead now he was occupied with making more knives float. He seriously was a child, it had not been that long and he was acting like this had been hours of sitting.

After a couple of minutes, you completed the second coat and the relief in his eyes was made apparent. " Do you like it, buttercup?", he drummed his finger tips on the table, drawing attention to his freshly colored nails. Although, it was tacky still, you let him have his fun. " Yes, I sure do.", you twisted the cap of the nail polish back on and moved it to the side. " Now, just be careful with you nails....now you can finally get it, old man.", you smiled widely leaning in to kiss him. A couple kisses were exchanged and you could feel he had a large grin on his face.

"HEISENBERG!" a voice rumbled.

The kissing ceased and the two of you drew your heads to the noise. It was Alcina, trying to squeeze through the door. It was not really often she was in Heisenberg's home, so this was a very bizarre occasion. She finally squeezed in and stood as tall as she could stand in his room. She stood out with how flawless and well dressed she was.

She sniffed the air, " Ah, seriously? Having Y/N painting your nails? ", she began to let out a wild chuckle laughing at his dark nails. " And this is who Mother Miranda had at one point entrusted with Y/N Y/L/N. And you are out here playing dress up now.", she continued to bellow.

"Shut your mouth and get out, super sized bitch! We are about to fuck! Now go!", his eyes glanced over at his recliner chair and you shook your head. Alcina noticed too and tried to control another large howl of laughter.

"You really are an old man.", you sighed knowing very well how serious he was about kicking the foot rest up and fucking you on that stupid old recliner chair.

"Oh fine, ta ta! Adleast pick somewhere more tasteful then that. After your pitiful few seconds of fornication...please call, we have matters to discuss.", she addressed coldly exiting the building.

After a few minutes, he looked over at you with his cigar between his teeth and still wearing a smile. " Now get on that chair.", he smiled as you couldn't help but laugh. "Whatever, Lord Heisenberg.", you sarcastically replied as you moved over to this old recliner chair.

[barnesbabee]

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ꜰɪᴠᴇ - ᴡᴏɴᴅᴇʀʟᴀɴᴅ

WONDERLAND MASTERLIST ⇜ ᴘʀᴇᴠɪᴏᴜꜱ - ꜰɪᴠᴇ-  ɴᴇxᴛ ⟿

CHARACTER LIST:

White Rabbit - Choi Jongho Absolem (Blue Catterpilar) - Kang Yeosang Cheshire Cat - Kim Hongjoong Mad Hatter - Choi San Haigha (March Hare) - Jung Wooyoung Tweedle Dee - Song Mingi Tweedle Dum - Jeong Yunho Bloody Red King - Park Seonghwa

ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ: @myunvillage @mirror-juliet [Send me a DM, an ask or comment to be added to the tag list]

“Oh! What a peculiar name! Tell me, Y/N, what is it that you want to ask me?”

"Why do you treat me differently? What makes you... like me?"

The King's naturally red cheeks reddened even more.

"I-I don't know. I like your attitude. You're fearless... And beautiful. You don't have a frog face or cat ears, you look like me naturally." The King explained, keeping eye contact with the pink pea-looking vegetables on his plate.

One of the frogmen in the room scowled at the slight insult but kept on working nevertheless.

"So if I had rabbit ears you wouldn't like me?"

The King looked up from his plate, with a panicked face.

"No, no! That's not what-"

He was cut off by your incessant giggling. You rested your hand on his forearm.

"I was joking, it was a joke."

The King relaxed and sat back.

"A joke? Hm, are all 'jokes' like this?"

You tilted your head in confusion, as you played with whatever was on your plate with your gilded fork.

"What do you mean?"

"I don't think I've heard of these jokes you speak of..."

"Seonghwa, are you serious? How have you never heard of jokes in your life?"

"My life has been rather monotone. Nothing but the teachings about royal life and proper manners. My parents, the old King and Queen, were separated, they didn't even live in the same castle, but the people never heard of this, of course. The King said the Queen had to be moved across the country to rule a part of the land that was in quite a ruckus, a place he couldn't easily reach. They decided to split their children so neither of them would be alone, and Mirana got lucky. The King chose her over me and I was left with my mother. I was about 4 or 5. I never left the castle because my mom didn't want me parading around with the filthy commoners, that much she did right, but it was a life filled with torture and lessons about a future that didn't belong to me. When the time came to pass on the crown the King said Mirana would be the heir to the throne even though I was the oldest of the two, because she had been the one taught by the King, not me. I was wrathful. That just meant I had spent my whole life suffering and preparing for nothing. I had just wasted away my best years. One night I snuck into the castle and killed my sister and the King, with no remorse. It was a bloodbath, but the Knights couldn't do anything, with my sister and dad both dead it meant I was the heir to the throne. But no one respected me. The people were mad I had killed 'their dear Queen'," The King mimicked the people's words with a mocking voice "they never did as I said, so I forced them to listen to me. I'm sure you've heard, or at least noticed, but I hired a witch to cast a spell on them, and then hid her somewhere where magic doesn't work. So yes, I am serious. Any happiness I might've had washed away in the early years of my life, and I can't remember any of it."

You listened attentively to the King's sad story, and you actually felt bad and revolted on the inside. The man refused to look in your direction, out of embarrassment, perhaps. You moved your chair a little closer to his and slowly placed your palm on the cheek slightly hidden by his long fringe. He immediately jumped back and held the same cheek, looking frightened.

"I-I'm sorry... That was unexpected." He said, recomposing himself while holding the cheek you held for a brief second.

"That was on me, I shouldn't have just touched you like that."

"It's fine I... I liked it. It's just that the fringe..." He stopped for a second, and you could tell he was hesitant.

You very slowly and lightly placed your hand on his thigh.

"It's okay." You assured him.

The King took a deep, shaky breath and stared into your curious, slightly frightened eyes. You didn't know what to expect, but as you looked into his dark and docile eyes you thought that maybe, maybe there was more to this man than just a heartless tyrant.

Seonghwa slowly lifted his fringe, revealing a completely white eye, and 3 huge scars, who looked as old as Seonghwa, however, they'd certainly never heal.

"Oh no, what happened to you?"

You refrained from touching his face, as you didn't want to make him uncomfortable, but you certainly wanted to.

"Punishment. I ate too many tarts one day and my mom was furious. She said I'd become an 'ugly, fat little boy', and as a way to discipline me for that, she locked me in a cage with the Bandersnatch. I ran away as fast as I could but of course, it caught up to me. Had it not been for the guards I would've been in a far worse state... I'm glad they pitied me enough to save me."

"What is a Badnerstatch?"

The King smiled slightly at the mispronunciation of the beast's name. He grabbed your hand lightly and stood up, making you follow along. He stood beside one of the big windows in the room and pulled the heavy, black, and red curtain out of the way. He slowly placed his arm around your waist and pulled you closer, as he pointed at a particular spot in his garden.

"Do you see that big thing on the cage? That is the Bandersnatch."

You widened your eyes and looked at the King. The gray furred beast looked huge even from that distance! It looked like a mix between a bear and a dog, and its back was weirdly curved. You could clearly see his sharp rows of teeth and when he growled, you fall back into the King's chest.

"She locked you up with that!? She's mad!"

"She was mad indeed..."

The man grabbed your waist gently and turned you around.

"Y/N, I have a kingdom, I have a castle, I have everything I could ever ask for. Everything but a Queen."

His breathing was steady but you could tell he was uncertain about what he was saying. Not because he thought he didn't need a Queen, but because he thought he was undeserving of anyone's love.

"Seonghwa, you're asking too much of me... I want to go home, I need to go home. I have a life somewhere else, I'm not from here and I don't belong here..."

The King tilted his head, furrowed his eyebrows, and opened his mouth for a second, before closing it again. He was hesitating once more.

"Y/N, I don't know how to tell you this... But you can't leave Wonderland."

Your face instantly scrunched up and you pushed him away harshly.

"What!? Are you going to force me to be here!?"

The King looked offended by the accusation and gripped your arm tightly, pulling you closer to him once more.

"Would you listen to me!? You can't physically leave Wonderland. You can't go back. The Wonderland is the wasteland of every other lands. You're here forever."