#i'm always looking for bit pieces and Here the Whole Article is about the show! no segways no diversions. exclusively MotA

[mastersoftheair]

an interview with kai alexander for airmail news

[sandy-the-glader]

maybe a george x grumpy! reader who never really smiles or shows emotion and George kinds makes it his secret mission to do that

Come on I see that smile!

Character: George Karim x Fem!Reader

Type: fluff

Length: 1.7K Words

Summary: Ever since you got to Portland row all it has been is neutral faces, anger and frowns. But George seems to be curious about what your smile looks like… for research purposes of course!

Trope: Grumpy x Sunshine (sorta)

A/n: Sorry if this is bad I've been trying to get back into writing btw maybe a tad bit of ooc George? Anyways this is a mix of second and first-person. Lmao lastly the format and like the 4 and 1 idea came from this fic so go check it out!

4 tries and 1 unintentional victory

Baked goods

Large raindrops pattered against the kitchen window of 35 Portland Row, creating a relaxing rhythm. I sprawled out articles and other various newspapers across the table. There wasn't much information on this house, no visitors had been reported before this caller. No murder cases from that house or interesting behaviors. I jotted down as many notes as I could on a surprisingly clean part of the thinking cloth.

A loud knock echoed through the house. I was too sucked into finding information and suspicious parts about this house to answer the door. Thankfully, I heard someone (most likely George) quickly dash to the door and handled with whatever it was. I assumed it was Arif since it was a quick interaction and the scent was so strong I could already smell it. Damn it smelled good.

George's quick footsteps dashed down to the kitchen, quickly landing the box on an available part of the table. I quickly drew my eyes back to the pages scanning for something remotely helpful. The worst case was going in cold.

"How's the case going?" George came to look at the papers and my progress. His fingers traced my handwriting.

"Not good. There is not a single thing tied to this house. And she said I have to be there in a week." I said with a dry expression. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw George rock back and forth on his heels before he spoke again.

"Well um, I got you extra of your favorite this week." I looked up at him. "If you need to take a break they are there." He offered.

"Thank you I appreciate that." George looked somewhat upset with my reaction. Why? I'm not exactly sure

"Yeah.." He grabbed a chocolate donut from the box and sighed on the way out of the room. I hope he’s okay.

Did I do something wrong?

"Is that a donut??" I heard Lucy call out from the stairs. "I didn't even know we had those!" maybe a break wouldn’t hurt…

2. Stress Cleaning

Sure this was more for George than it was for you but he hoped to kill 2 birds with one stone. He had spent the whole evening cleaning the house. Kitchen, library you name it. He left the bedrooms for last.

He knocked softly on your door and waited for a reply before going up the stairs. There wasn't much to clean in your's and Lucy's shared area besides maybe the windows and a few pieces of clothing needed to be picked up off the ground.

You were reading a book on your bed instead of trying to find more information on that house. You needed a break and your mind was just tired from searching article upon article. You had 3 more days and thought to hell with it I'll just do my best.

"What's up, George?" You peered over your book and at the boy. "Oh." From seeing his apron and blue gloves you already knew he meant cleaning. "You know you don't always have to clean up after us." He shook his head.

"You know cleaning is one of my favorite things right?" He cleaned every single day. Not even kidding. You can't remember the last time you've seen the house jaw-droppingly dirty. Because it never has been. For the many months you’ve been here George has done a fantastic job with keeping the house organized.

"That is true. I do feel bad sometimes." You hummed. "Well thank you." George quirked a small smile but you just nodded in acknowledgment.

Well, it was worth a try. He sighed quietly.

3. Favorite food

He knew as soon as you stepped through the door and slammed it shut, he had made a good decision. Another thing on George's list of "Y/n's smiles" was dinner. Sure food didn't work as well last time this was different.

He heard you curse at something and then throw your rapier into its spot by the door. You took in a deep breath through your nose trying to contain your anger from the trip and not make a lot of noise considering the time but you smelt something. Something so heavenly that's all you needed right now. Food.

You quickly went down the stairs and saw George in his apron Moving around the kitchen.

"Smells great Georgie. It's 3 am you didn't have to." She frowned feeling a bit bad for keeping him up.

"It's really no problem at all." He loved cooking so really it was just fun. "Looks like you had a fun night." She rolled her eyes and groaned. He leaned against a cabinet and glanced at you up and down. Your hair was very messy, traces of ectoplasm was all over your shoes and the bottom of your pants, and you were just really wanting food and a shower.

"Sarcasm. Not now I beg of you. But really the food smells fantastic." A sneaky smile formed on George's lips, not yours though you were far too tired to even think about it.

"Alright. Food's ready anyway." He brought two servings of the food over to the table placing one in front of you and the other across from you. "Do you want to talk about it?" He offered sitting down in front of his food.

"It was awful! The source was in a completely different part of the house than she thought and it was just disastrous!" You complained. He sat there and listened to your troubles like you always did with him.

You finally had a bite of the food and you felt at ease.

“George Casper Karim why can you cook so well?” He smiled downward. You didn’t smile you just had this tired yet calm look on your face.

“I have more talent than just touch.” He joked. She was right though the food did taste amazing.

“Yes you do.” George wasn’t entirely mad at the fact you didn’t smile but he did enjoy the compliment.

4. A New Sweater

George scanned the shelves of your favorite store looking for something you would like. There were plenty of things your style but what caught his eye was a sweater.

Your closet was full of them. Lucy too and so a sweater could be another candidate for his "Y/n's smiles" list.

It wasn’t too thick nor too light because he knew you were sorta picky when it comes to sweaters. And a bonus was it was one of your favorite colours.

He held it in his hands but, he double and even triple-checked the store for something you might like better. But he did not and he went and brought it up to the counter to pay.

The cashier was nice but she had mistaken George as your boyfriend which made him blush furiously and confirm the two of you were just close friends. The cashier didn’t buy it. She gave him a small disbelieving look and he tried to ignore it.

He was impressed by how well she wrapped up the sweater and put it in a really nice bag.

When he came back the house was insanely quiet, mainly because Lockwood was out of the house and Lucy was training in the basement. You had decided to have a lazy day you were mainly just in your bed or in front of your desk.

But he noticed you were making tea in the kitchen so he quietly ran upstairs to put your gift on your bed. And then he snuck back down to his room to wait for your return.

You held a cup in your hand and carefully walked upstairs. You were confused when finding a gift on your bed mainly because no one really gave you gifts out of the blue. A small gasp escaped your lips when you reached into the bag and pulled out a sweater. You held the sweater close. It was the right size it was quite a shocker

You didn't think Lucy even knew your size.

"Surprise." George came back up the stairs. You went and hugged him. He was slightly taken aback by the gesture. He wasn't exactly a hugger but he wrapped his arm around you and squeezed gently.

"Thank you, George. You do so much for me." Again he wasn't exactly angry that it had failed because he's never had a hug that felt this relaxing. He was feeling loved. "Anything." He said simply. You pulled back and ruffled his hair.

"You're too good for me."

George returned to his room and took a pen and struck off another idea on a sticky note above his desk. But he did put a small heart next to it.

5. Quality Time.

"Wanna go the archives with me? Lucy and Lockwood already said no but they were caught up in their own thing." George huffed. You sat up immediately and shoved a bookmark into your book. You cracked a half smile.

"I would love to." You sprung up and grabbed your bag and shoes. "They never want to go with me either." Still, a small smile plastered on your face.

George was shocked in the 3 months he knew you that's all it took? Just going to the archives? He would have groaned if he wasn't so happy for finally making you smile. The look was so unfamiliar on you but he definitely knew he wanted to see it more.

"I don't know why I never asked you." You chuckled softly. That was a complete lie. You didn't want to admit it or make it obvious that you have a raging crush on the other boy while being alone and so very close to him doing what you loved most.

George didn't even think about your comment. A chuckle? George's expectations were exceeded. He thought you would shrug it off and either go and keep to yourself or kindly decline.

"Come on Georgie!" You practically skipped out of the room, brushing past his shoulder and sending a jolt through his body. His heart swelled and he was honestly quite boastful at the moment. If he could shout it at the world he would. He felt like he deserved something for making Y/n L/n smile. But seeing your smile was an award in itself.

George followed her out of the house and down to explore the archives.

[saltpepperbeard]

It's the entitlement that really frustrates me. David didn't create this show to fix all problems with representation, he didn't even know what queerbaiting was, bless his heart.

People keep saying "we were promised xyz, we were baited, he betrayed us" ( I wish I was joking about the last once.

He literally promised none of that. And he ows us nothing. Whether people want want to admit it or not, OFMD is his story. This happens a lot nowadays, someone makes something, the response is "well its not what I want ,therefore it's trash".

I dunno, I'm just angry at this point

HONESTLY. And I feel like that's becoming such a large issue that spans across numerous forms of media too. Like, from tv shows to youtube to fanfiction, the audience thinks they're "owed" something. "Owed" something simply for being there and consuming the thing. And it's like??? No??? You are just there on your own volition to consume the thing that's being provided to you???

*hands you a cupcake* "i don't like this cupcake >:(" THEN DON'T EAT IT???

And yeah, as you said, this is very much David's story. This has always been his story. He was passionate to tell it even before it got such a large following. He was surprised it got such a large following!

It seems like he's had a lot of things in mind since the very beginning, and a rather clear direction in which he's wanted to steer the story. And, based on his recent interviews and also very interesting meta pieces I've seen, the whole [redacted] was probably a long time coming too.

That's just the thing. I also feel like everyone just gets so caught up in their own interpretations and their own headcanons and their own versions of the story that it leads to almost inevitable disappointment and/or upset. Hell, even I'm a bit guilty of that; I looked too hard into that one article that described Stede's beach reunion dream, and thought we were going to get a makeout in the waves. And then when we didn't, I was like "oh lol 😀." Same with the little brief snippet of Stede pushing Ed against the wall that we got before episodes 6 and 7 dropped; I went in with preconceived notions which didn't end up getting met.

BUT LIKE, THE THING IS, THAT WAS ENTIRELY ON ME LMAO??? NOT THE FAULT OF ANYONE INVOLVED IN THE SHOW???? And it seems like people are disregarding that very fact! Like, oh I'm upset with how this went, so it's YOUR fault. I'm not responsible for how I'm reacting to this; it's YOU. YOU were supposed to bend exactly to MY wants.

And that's just,,,not! the case!

I'm over here piloting my safe spaceship, but what I've been seeing in my peripherals is making me sad too. Like, just the blatant disregard for everything else this show has given us, and the vitriol being slung towards the cast and crew, and all the negativity around what was supposed to be a hopeful sendoff...

People can be upset. People are absolutely allowed to be disappointed, or sad, or even angry. People can definitely dislike a narrative or character choice. Hell, I'd definitely feel some kind of way if Ed or Stede died, and I've gotten angry over narrative directions in other fandoms before. But just...the lines that have been crossed are just so so disheartening to see. You can be angry without being ugly about it, without pulling so many people down with you.

If people are that upset, I really encourage them to just step back, take a breath, and focus on other outlets. Because the entitlement and accusatory bits are certainly not it.

[atwooozi]

gojo x oc

Chapter 13: Fushiguro Toji

summary: Amid the whirlwind of press interviews, Ai finds herself in an unexpected moment of introspection and connection with Gojo. As they converse, Ai peels back the layers of Gojo's public persona, uncovering his past struggles and the significant influence of a mentor named Toji. Their conversation takes a turn, revealing Gojo’s unspoken burdens and his unwavering commitment to those he cares for. A shared late-night walk cements their bond, offering Ai a rare glimpse into the heart of the man behind the celebrity, and leaving her with a renewed sense of purpose for her article.

genre: modern AU, slice of life, comedy, eventual romance, eventual smut, some angst

A/N:

Wednesdays seem to come by so fast lately. I'm always so surprised when it's time for me to post a new chapter of this story. Recently, I've been taking a break from writing to focus on school work and studying, and while I know it's the responsible thing to do it's not as fun.

Anyway, the song for this week isn't Japanese or within the future funk/city pop space but I feel suits this chapter well. It's Off The Record by IVE. I've kind of been in and out of the kpop space for the past few years and I heard this song randomly on Spotify. I think it fits perfectly within this fic, especially, this chapter.

READ ON AO3

When Ai returned to the hotel where the press junkets were taking place, a few reporters were still waiting for their ten to fifteen minutes with Gojo and Okkotsu. She didn’t envy them at all. Although the journalists were just waiting around, she could only imagine doing it alone and how exhausting it was by the end of it. Countless hours passing by without someone there seemed like hell.

She quietly made her way into the small green room set up in a corner of the large hall. Taking a deep breath, she sat down in a deceptively comfy-looking chair and took out her iPad to pick up where she left off in The Tao of Wing Chun , her most recent piece of research for this profile. Ever since she went down that rabbit hole with Toji, she had somehow found herself here.

It had felt like only minutes with how absorbed she had gotten into the book, but when the door swung open, she realized that she had been sitting there for almost an hour.

“Reading on the job?” Gojo teased as he took a seat across from her. He grimaced as he tried to get comfortable in the chair and quickly relaxed as he crossed one leg over the other, resting his chin against his fist. Gojo looked tired, but somehow he still glowed despite having to go on for hours with the same questions posed in a handful of different ways.

Ai turned off her tablet and tucked it against her side as she sat up a bit straighter. “No, I was doing some research.” She took out her phone and pressed the record button before setting it on the small table between them.

“You read whole books for research?”

Ai shrugged. “I guess I’m an overachiever.” Saying those words felt sour on her tongue. Despite usually priding herself as a perfectionist, she felt like anything but that lately. She had nothing to show for all the work she did.

Gojo smiled at her and nodded his head. “Careful not to burn yourself out, Ai-chan.”

Ai nodded and ran her hands along her pants to try and soothe her nerves. “Noted.”

Gojo leaned back in his chair. “So, what have you learned?” he asked, genuine curiosity evident in his tone.

Ai shrugged. “Well, I’m just learning about Wing Chun…”

“Oh?” Gojo arched an eyebrow. “What’s that about?”

Ai gave him a quizzical look. “Don’t you already know?”

Gojo hummed, urging her to keep going to give himself a break from speaking.

“We don’t have to do this now, Gojo. You’re tired,” Ai said as she moved to get out of her seat.

Gojo quickly grabbed Ai’s wrist, holding it firmly. “I’m fine.”

Ai frowned as she held Gojo’s gaze. His eyes were tired, it was obvious. The usual ethereal eyes that sparkled were now dull.

“Fine,” Ai said as she sat herself back down.

Gojo gave a satisfied smile and sat back in his seat. “Good, back to Wing Chun.”

“You’re pretty bossy.”

Gojo couldn’t help but laugh. “I’m used to getting my way, I guess.”

Ai rolled her eyes and let out a sigh. “Before acting you were an athlete, right?”

“I was.” Gojo grinned, but his expression slowly became complicated. “I injured my knee, though, so that was that.”

Ai nodded as she jotted down some notes. “...So instead of slowing down, you decided on doing stunt work?”

Gojo shrugged. “I mean, it seemed like fun.”

“That’s it?”

Uncertainty flashed in Gojo’s eyes when Ai lightly pressed him. “Well, it wasn’t exactly my idea.” He shifted in his chair, an annoyed expression taking over his face as he tried to piece together his answer. “A friend of mine did some stunt work and I was going through a tough time after my injury so…” Gojo gestured vaguely in the air.

Ai nodded as she listened to Gojo. She almost felt bad as she watched him squirm in his chair, but he had made it so hard that she was reveling in it just a bit. “Not Geto or Shoko, right?”

“No…”

Ai nodded and pulled out her phone, pulling up the picture she found of Toji and Gojo together from years ago. “Is this your friend?”

Gojo clicked his tongue at Ai’s question as he looked at the picture. “Where did you find that?”

“Answer my question.”

Gojo tsked and leaned back in his seat. “Yeah, that’s him.”

“Why hide him?”

“I’m not hiding anything,” Gojo replied as he crossed his arms over his chest. “Why does it matter?”

Ai sighed as she looked at Gojo with a frown. “Because I am writing a story about you.” She leaned forward in her seat. “I can’t do that if you hide everything from me.”

Gojo’s jaw tensed, and he shifted uncomfortably in his chair. It was the first time Gojo didn’t have a quick reply to offer. Even when Gojo was uncomfortable, which was rare, he always had something to say, but now he had nothing to ease the pressure.

“So… Fushiguro said his dad helped you get into stunt work.”

“He did.”

“Why be so secretive about that?” Ai pressed.

Gojo sighed and rested his cheek against his palm. He seemed unsure of what to say. “Is this what your article is about?”

“I’d be lying if I said it wouldn’t be an aspect of it, but if it’s Fushiguro-kun that you’re worried about, I’m not going to exploit his past for a story.”

Gojo seemed to relax somewhat and let out a deep breath. It was obvious to see how much he cared for his young co-star just from his body language alone. “I was friends with his dad, Toji.” He admitted. “If anything, he was more of a mentor to me.”

Ai nodded as she listened to Gojo, quickly writing down what she could as he spoke.

“How did you meet?”

“We met at the gym that I trained at,” Gojo explained. “He told me my form sucked, and then we sparred…” He chuckled. “He kicked my ass and then he stole some money from my wallet.”

“Wh–”

Gojo interrupted Ai, continuing on with the story. “He said something like, ‘You’re so bad that you should pay me for beating your ass.’” He broke out into a smile the more he thought about it. “And so I kept bugging him to spar with me, but he would always blow me off.”

“Did he ever spar with you again?” Ai questioned.

Gojo pouted and shook his head. “No, but he started training with me after that...” He looked up at the high ceilings as he tried to remember. “He told me that it would be embarrassing for him to fight someone as weak as me, so I had to work harder if I wanted him to waste his time.”

“He sounds–”

“He was so cool.” Gojo’s eyes sparkled. “I feel like if I hadn’t met him, my life would’ve been completely different.”

“Different how?” Ai felt like she had finally broken down whatever walls were between them. She just needed to push a little bit more.

Gojo shrugged. “Just different.”

“Can you elaborate on that just a little?” Ai asked desperately.

Gojo shook his head. “No.”

Ai’s head dropped in disappointment. She felt like she could cry. Why was he making this so difficult for her? Whenever she took a few steps forward, Gojo would take a step back. Was seeing her struggle like this fun for him?

Probably…

“We can stop here for now,” Ai said as she closed her notebook. She was glad that Gojo talked about Toji, but didn’t want to push him too much.

Gojo gave Ai a skeptical look. “That’s it?”

It was almost as if he was disappointed that Ai didn’t push him for more. She wondered if she did, he would’ve given in to her, but she didn’t want to play with him. She was tired.

Ai nodded and stood up. “Yeah, it’s late and you’re getting grumpy.”

“I’m not grumpy,” Gojo pouted as he stood up from his seat.

As Ai made her move to leave the room, she stopped when Gojo called out to her. When she turned back to look at him, he was wearing a wide grin and had his hands in his pockets.

“Wanna go on a walk with me?”

Ai hesitated for a moment. She had to walk to the train station anyway, so if Gojo tagged along with her part of the way, it wouldn’t make any difference to her. Maybe the walk would do them both good.

“Fine.”

“Let’s go then! I can’t stand to be here any longer,” Gojo said as he pushed Ai out the door.

Once they were out of the hotel building, Gojo walked a few steps behind Ai. It made her anxious. She could feel his eyes on her. She felt that if she looked over her shoulder at him, she would meet her untimely demise. Not that Gojo would attack her, but all the swirling anxieties that she had felt for the past week and a half had her on edge.

Ai sighed and tried her best to imagine as if Gojo wasn’t there and she was just walking to the train station like she normally would. It seemed to have worked, but then Gojo opened his mouth.

“Hey, let’s stop here really quick.” Ai looked over her shoulder and Gojo was pointing at a Lawson’s. “I want a snack.”

He walked into the convenience store without waiting for Ai’s reply. She debated on ditching him but opted against it. He made her nervous, but that didn’t mean she should be an asshole in return. As Ai walked through the sliding doors, she wandered over to the coolers, looking for a drink.

“You buying something?” Gojo asked as he peered down at the drinks with her.

“...Thinking about it. You?” Ai mumbled as she continued to look over her options.

“I already paid.”

Ai glanced over at him, and he had a bag already in hand. She was unsure if Gojo was inhumanly fast like the character he played or if she was just so lost in thought that it dulled all her other senses. Not wanting to waste any more time, she grabbed a Calpico and went to the self-checkout. It wasn’t necessarily what she had in mind when she went to pick a drink, but the almost too sweet flavor was something she felt she needed.

They walked outside the store together quietly. Although it was late, people were still walking through the streets of the city.

“Aren’t you tired of doing interviews?” Ai asked as she unscrewed the cap of her drink and took a sip.

Gojo chuckled. “This is nothing.” He unwrapped a melon pan and took a bite, chewing it thoughtfully before continuing. “It’s boring, but I try to have fun with it, keeps it interesting.”

Ai nodded, glancing at him from the corner of her eye. Despite his casual demeanor, she could hear the tiredness in his voice. “You make it look really easy.”

Gojo flashed Ai a relaxed grin. “That’s the idea, gotta keep everyone entertained.”

They continued walking in silence, the soft glow of the streetlights illuminating the sidewalk. Ai found herself relaxing a bit, the tension from earlier slowly melting away.

“Can I ask you something personal?” Ai asked after a few moments, her curiosity getting the better of her.

“Unfortunately, yes, I am still single,” Gojo joked and gave Ai an exaggerated sad look.

Ai rolled her eyes. “I’m being serious.”

“Sure,” Gojo smiled, his tone inviting.

“...Earlier, you mentioned that your life would have been different if you hadn’t met Toji.” Ai paused as she tried to think of how to phrase her words. “Do you ever wonder what life would be like?”

“Off the record?” Gojo asked.

Ai nodded. “Yeah, off the record.”

Gojo slowed his pace, his expression unreadable as he thought. “...I can’t–I don’t want to think of a world where I didn’t take Megumi and his sister in.” He looked over to Ai, his eyes containing a depth of emotion that she couldn’t comprehend. “I don’t regret how things turned out. If I could go back, I’d do the same thing again each time.”

Ai wasn’t sure how to feel when it came to Gojo’s sincerity. It wasn’t often that he showed this side of himself. She thought carefully about what to say next; she didn’t want him to close himself off again.

“Megumi and his sister mean a lot to you…” Ai said softly.

Gojo nodded, his gaze distant as if he was going back in time. “Everyone thought it was a stupid idea.” He gave Ai a wistful smile. “I hadn’t even finished high school yet when I took them in, but I couldn’t just let them be separated, not after everything that happened.” He explained as he started to walk again. “I think they’ve given my life a greater purpose.”

Ai walked silently with Gojo as she absorbed his words. She felt a newfound respect for Gojo, not just as an actor, but as a person.

“Thank you for sharing with me,” Ai said softly, her voice genuine. “It won’t be in the article, but it helps me understand you better.”

Gojo chuckled. “You’re a good listener, Ai-chan.”

“Thanks, I try,” Ai laughed, feeling the tension in the air lift.

As they continued to walk, Ai couldn’t help but feel that their conversation had given her a deeper insight into Gojo. If he wasn’t walking with her right now, Ai would shout in celebration. It was moments like this that reminded her of why she loved her job–she had finally caught a glimpse of Gojo Satoru. The real Gojo Satoru.

By the time they reached the train station, Ai was beaming with pride. She didn’t care how late it was, she was going to call her mom when she got home. She needed to share her accomplishments with someone.

“Thanks for the walk,” Gojo said as they approached the station entrance. He put his hands in his pockets and gave Ai a more reserved smile than usual.

Ai nodded a small smile on her lips. “Anytime.”

As Ai turned away from Gojo to walk into the station, he called out to her. Ai looked over her shoulder at him.

“Don’t go writing any sappy stories about me, okay?” Gojo said with his usual playfulness. “I have an image to maintain.”

Ai laughed. “No promises. Take care, Gojo.”

“One more thing!” Gojo called out to her.

When Ai looked over her shoulder once more, a small box was tossed in her direction. Instinctively, she reached her hands out to catch it. Once it was firmly in her hands, she looked down at the small rectangular box. It was Chocorooms. She couldn’t help but giggle as she looked down at the box.

“Since I ate them last time.”

Ai glanced up at Gojo and nodded, doing her best to hide the smile taking over her face. “Thanks…”

With a final goodbye, she turned her back to him as she hurried onto the train. A sense of satisfaction washed over her. There was still so much to learn about Gojo, but she felt like she was finally going to be able to write an article about him that did him some justice.

[blackhakumen]

Mini Fanfic #1072: Anime Binging Night (Epithet Erased)

8:45 p.m. at STEM's Headquarters' Living Room.......

Yoomtah: (Smiles Brightly at her Boyfriend Beside Her) Alrightly then, Naven!~ What sort of anime you wanna binge through tonight that isn't One Piece related? Shonen, gorey, slice of life....(Gives Naven a Seductive Look on her Face) Maybe something more explicit to spice up the room if you know what I'm saying~ (Starts Moving her Eyebrows Up and Down)

Naven: (Smiles Sheepishly) H-How about we watch some more light-hearted this evening. Like that lovely Spy x Family show. I never had the chance to watch for myself as of late, but I have heard great things about from peers.

Yoomtah: Oh yeah, that show is a banger. And hella cute to boot, you'll love it!

Naven: I wouldn't deny that possibility. It'll be nice to take my mind off of things for once. Especially everything work related.

Yoomtah: Hell. YES! I am so tired of doing people's paperwork 24/7!!

Naven: You and me both, my dear. But at least we have the night to ourselves. Do you think Mr. Shades will be alright with the girls this evening?

Yoomtah: Oh he'll be fine! Our Ricky-Poo is a very strong wizard boi after all.

Naven: (Starta Snickering a Bit) Ricky-Poo?

Yoomtah: It's a nickname I came up for him. He calla me Yoomy all the time, which I for one adored a lot, so why not give him one of his own, you know?

Naven: I think it sounds lovely.

Yoomtah: Thank you!~ But enough about nicknames! Let's just focus on you, me.....(Hugs Naven While Having a Blanket Covering Around Them) And nthe nightly hours of cuddles you owed me~ (Starts Kissing Up on Naven's Cheeks)

Naven: (Chuckles Ticklishly by Yoomtah's Affectionate Kisses) Yes, yes~ Let's commence anime binging night, shall we?

A Few Episodes of Spy X Family Later.......

TV: LOIDDDYYYYYYYYYYY

Yoomtah: Hey, Naven?

Naven: Hm?

Yoomtah: Are you.....still thinking about that Molly kid in any way? You would always get sad whenever her name get brought up in any conversations. (Gently Pokes at Naven's Cheek) You're even making that cute frowny face every time something's bother you, which is pretty easy to tell if you ask me.

Naven: (Frowns While Sighing) Well....I suppose your observation of me isn't....too far fetched I'm afraid.

Yoomtah: (Softly Snuggles onto Naven) You wanna talk about it? I'm a fairly decent listener.

Naven: (Chuckles Very Lightly) You're a wonderful listener, dear. (Slowly Went Back to Frowning) But to answer your question, I have been thinking about Ms. Bylndeff as of late and thinking if.....not taking here with me was ever the best decision on my part, especially after everything that happened on that day.....

Yoomtah: You mean that whole dream bubble fiasco?

Naven: The very same, yes. I always figured she would trouble in her home life recently, but to witness how problematic it truly was at first hand....('Sigh') Well, I guess I can't say I know how to describe it really......

Yoomtah: Crappy, sucky, guilt-writtenny

Naven: The last one's not even a real compound word and I still find it accurate to my current feelings to the situation. I really wish I could be of more help to her on that day, but I knew I couldn't just....adopt her right off the bat. Especially given the excruciating work hours I have recently and the potential rumors journalists and the paparazzi would spread.....

Yoomtah: (Groans While Rolling her Eyes in Pure Annoyance) Ohhhh God don't even get me STARTED on those......Yesterday, some wise guy from the Sweet Jazz News Daily made a two page article on how you're completely out of the league you are to me and that I'm only dating you for money. Like.....THE HELL DO THEY MEAN YOU'RE OUT OF MY LEAGUE!? You're way more of a man than any of these brain dead morons would even try and DREAM of being! And did they REALLY think I would be that shallow enough to date you only for your riches? BULLSHIT! My limo driving career is paying me enough already, I ain't a shaneless gold digger! I swear, if I see ONE MORE journalist, paparazzi, or who the fucks starts getting into our business again, I am going to find myself a bat and shove it SO FAR UP THEIR-

Naven: Yoomie Dear....remember our anger management sessions and not raising your stress levels high.

Yoomtah: I AM CALM DAMNIT!

Yoomtah starts whimpering like a sick puppy as Naven soothes her anger away with his gently comfort and embrace.

Naven: There, there. It's alright. I agree with every word you said.

Yoomtah: (Looks Up at Naven With Sparkling Eyes) You do?~ Truly?~

Naven: (Chuckles Lightly) Of course. Molly is a timid girl and the last thing I want for her is to deal with these kind of nonsense on a daily basis, among other things.

Yoomtah: Yeah, I hear ya.....You said she was taken away by that Vincent Murder guy before I arrived at the toy store that night?

Naven: That's correct. Despite the name and villainous demeanor, he seems like a nice, passionate fello once you get to know him a little. Molly seems to hold him in high regards due to him being her boss in some capacity.

Yoomtah: Really now? So like what? Is he gonna try and look after her or something?

Naven: Given the care and support he gave her during that time, I'd say the possibility of that is above average. (Grabs his Chin While Thinking) Perhaps I could arrange a lunch date for the three of us sometime in the future....(Turns Back to Yoomtah) You're more than welcome to join us, dear.

Yoomtah: Hmm...Tempting, but I'm probably gonna have pass on that offer. I feel like I would get bored too easily in these kinds of meet ups, ya know?

Naven: Very well. The offer still stands if you ever decide to chance your mind.

Yoomtah: You got it. ('Sigh') But listen, Navey, you can't let what happened that day keep you down forever. That little girl still looks up to you despite everything, right?

Naven: Well, I mean....I suppose so, but-

Yoomtah: And does she feel any sort of malice or resentment towards you in anyway?

Naven: Well, no, not really, bu-

Yoomtah: Then you got nothing to worry about, bug doof!~ You may never be an ideal parental guardian, but that doesn't change the fact that you're still her teacher. And you and i know damn well that a teacher's job is to educate and guide them into being decent citizens of an overly obnoxious society.

Naven: (Smiles Sheepishly) I wouldn't exactly say that they're all obnoxious. But you're right. It won't do me any good if I keep dwelling on the incident any further. I will do better as a teacher and mentor for now on, that, I can promise you.

Yoomtah: (Happily Snuggles onto Naven Some More) That's the spirit, Navey!~ You're making your cute girlfriend proud here!~

Naven: Oh I wouldn't say you're cute exactly. You're more of the line if being beautiful and breath-taking all things considered.

Yoomtah: (Snorts in Laughter) I'm really flattered, babe!~ But I am FAR from being the most beautiful girl out there.

Naven: (Smiles Softly) Perhaps to some, but I beg to differ. (Gives Yoomtah a Kiss on the Forehead) It's one of the many reasons why I love you after all.

Yoomtah's heart flutters like a sound of a roaring car engine being turned on for the first time in minutes, as she begins to kiss all over her boyfriend's face again in a cuddling position. As surprising as the sudden affection was, Naven was more than happy to welcome it given how stressful today truly was for him earlier.

@aprilbrowines

@cyber-wildcat

[mythandlaur]

Code: July Day 12 - Hopeless

There's no way I'm getting all the ones I want to done in July at this point, so you'll probably see a few stragglers posted in the next couple weeks.

This one's based on the prologue of the fangame IFSCL, but since the whole story isn't out yet I've kind of taken my own spin on it. The premise should mostly explain itself, at least.

And no, I'm not doubling this up with day 30's prompt, because I want to actually show them being happy for that one.

...

13-04-2010

If you could live your life over again, what would you do differently?

It was one of those lofty questions you only got in philosophy questions or as essay prompts to judge your character. Jeremie had always hated that, the kind of question that has no right answer, a problem with no solution. It always leaves him flailing trying to figure out what he's supposed to say in response--he's much more comfortable with math and science, where things aren't necessarily simpler, but every consistent action has a specific result. Two plus two always equals four. Baking soda and vinegar always makes carbon dioxide.

Even in the quantum sciences where there was far more uncertainty, he still held the belief that it all fit into a paradigm people just hadn't figured out yet. Time moves in a straight line, unless it doesn't, according to some rule that hadn't yet been discovered.

Computers, most of all. If you delete something (really delete it, not just your grandma wiping the Recycle Bin), it should be irretrievable.

If you could do things over again. It was supposed to be a hypothetical. But all the laws he knows have already fallen to pieces--and behind it, he's forced to face that question in a terrifyingly real way.

It's hard for him to read the flickering blue display on the screen across the room with one of his glasses' lenses rendered a useless conflagration of spiderweb cracks. 30...20 seconds left, maybe? Jeremie could've force-executed the special RTTP immediately, of course, but he hadn't been able to bring himself to enter the last command. Did that make him a coward? It's not like an extra minute would make much of a difference.

Maybe he should've known this was coming the moment he'd looked into the news article, and the strange events that had immediately followed.

Dr. Hugh Tyron found dead in his home...asphyxiated...no signs of struggle...under posthumous investigation for cyberterrorism and possession of confidential documents and technology. The name had struck Jeremie as vaguely familiar, like he'd seen it in passing, and a bit of digging revealed a paper trail perfectly parallel to Waldo Schaeffer and the other members of Project Carthage he'd managed to identify.

Immediately after the article, those other members began dying one after another, in either a set of serial murders or horrific accidents usually involving power lines or out-of-control industrial equipment.

Mr. Delmas had, out of the blue, sent a friendly email to Jeremie asking about info security--apparently, the Kadic school records had been breached and he was concerned about student safety, but had no idea where to start in upgrading their outdated systems.

A fire had broken out at the old Renault factory, putting it back on the city's radar and resuming talks of demolition.

A prolonged blackout had struck the entire city of Valence, France, where Jeremie's parents lived and where he would've still been at the time if he hadn't left for college in America a couple of weeks early.

Twelve times, they'd tried again to destroy it. Twelve times, they'd succeeded, but got less and less of a reprieve, had less and less hope. It only figured that number thirteen was the unlucky one.

And now, here he is, running the last resort RTTP, one so extreme none of them would remember anything once all was said and done. He wouldn't be doing it if he was completely hopeless--he was sure there had to have been something they could've done to prevent this outcome, maybe when XANA was weaker. But it's not like he'll be able to do much to change things, just relying on their scattered half-memories to guide them down another path. It's a long shot, but maybe it'll work. He has to believe that.

Jeremie wishes he'd had time to leave something behind for his younger self, a message or a bit of advice or something, but there's no way something like that would survive a RTTP as big as this one anyway, so he's left simply speculating to pass the last few seconds. He's probably going to miss his own perspective the most--because XANA had been big, yes, but so many things had seemed equally as big and scary back then when they just weren't, things as simple as talking to his friends or having a crush or telling the truth--dear god, he's going to have to come out all over again isn't he--

Maybe...maybe he would tell himself to spend more time with them, not to just save it for a later he hadn't been sure was coming. Not to get so worked up over little things, because he only ever got so annoyed because he was scared. Tell them more, in general. Several incidents could've been avoided like that.

Like William. That's one of the things that was obvious in hindsight--he wasn't angry at William, only a tiny bit of it had ever been at William. It was a whole mess of mistakes on everyone's part, but it wasn't William's fault that Jeremie had spent an entire summer break sulking and come back full of spite.

Yeah, Jeremie thinks, that's definitely one thing he'd want to change. He'd devirtualize William instead of freezing up and yelling at him uselessly. Maybe they'd be a little closer at the end.

He sees the counter hit single digits. He considers telling Yumi, on the other side of the door to the busted cargo elevator behind him, but decides against it. The whine from the mainframe, this time loud enough to be clearly audible two floors up, should be enough of an indicator.

Aelita's stuck upstairs. He wishes he could call her. He hopes she understands. He hopes that she can hope alongside him, because she's always been like that, even on her worst days.

Really, if anyone's going to figure out what's going on and how to stop XANA this time, it's going to be her, out of sheer stubbornness if nothing else. He can't hope to match that.

The whine reaches a fever pitch, but the air doesn't grow thick like he's used to it doing. He can move perfectly fine, without time seeming to slow to a crawl while his brain runs too fast to keep up.

A white light springs from the center of the laboratory, and Jeremie shields his eyes--but not fast enough to miss a flicker in the air in front of him.

It...is him, he realizes as he peeks out from in between his fingers. Younger and dumber and looking like he's staring into an oncoming train, but definitely himself. The elder tries to scramble to his feet, tries to wave a greeting, think of something to say, I'm sorry, I forgive you--but before he can get a word out his world goes green, then white in a shower of painful sparks.

09-10-2003

Jeremie lurches backwards, the weight of his own backpack nearly sending him tumbling. He grips onto the side of the bridge to steady himself and takes a moment to catch the breath he'd suddenly lost.

What had that been just now, on the other side of the bridge, looking at him?

He rubs his eyes with the heel of a hand, glancing over to where he'd seen it, but...the stranger who'd been standing there is nowhere to be seen.

"What was that?...I really need to get some sleep."

For a moment, he looks over his shoulder, considering going back and telling Maya. But--that's dumb, what's he even supposed to say to her, that he'd had a weird dream? He hadn't even explained those to her properly yet. Besides, once he got the remote connection set up, he would be able to talk to her whenever he wanted--and as of right now, he'd be in enough trouble if he got caught outside of the dorms.

He ignores the chill down his spine, or the sudden weight on his shoulders, as he hops down the ladder to the waterways where he'd parked his scooter.

(A boy sits bolt upright, whipping his head around towards the other bed in his room with a long-since-dulled venom on his tongue for being woken up--but then he remembers that he's never had a roommate.)

(A girl presses her ear to her doorway, but she doesn't hear her parents arguing. So why can't she sleep? She checks her phone out of habit, but that's stupid. No one ever calls her. And--she likes it that way, doesn't she?)

(A boy--or at least they think they must be a boy, at the time--scrambles about trying to keep a small, hyperactive dog from destroying a hotel room so he can get a few seconds of peace to call his family and let him know he'd gotten there safe, despite already knowing the call's going to go to voicemail. He really hopes whoever he's rooming with will be cool about dogs.)

(An older boy's in the middle of writing his twenty-sixth love letter that night when his stomach suddenly drops out from under him and his eyes sting with frustrated tears. He sits back in his chair, stares out the window, and decides he's done enough work on his little project for one night.)

(A virtual girl lies on her back and stares up towards the vanishing point of the datastream far above, suddenly convinced that there must be an infinite amount of life to live beyond it, despite having no evidence. She does not know that world. She has never known it. So how can she miss it with such ferocity?)

(And a blond with broken glasses opens his eyes to find white as far as he can see, except for a line at the horizon where a rainbow sits like a smeary soap bubble, as if the light itself has slowed enough to split into its constituent colors--or, perhaps, he was moving too fast. He slumps down against a door that isn't there anymore, realizing abruptly that he is both Schrodinger and the cat, in one place and time and another, existing and not existing.

He settles in for a millisecond that will last an eternity. But perhaps, if he goes unobserved, he can be in that other place, just for a moment.

And if that's right, he vows to do whatever he can to fix the odds, this time.)

[amandadoylewriting]

Dancing With The Shadows of My Soul

From dark purple to bright perspectives.

(A reupload of my own article on vocal.media)

I took a poetry class in my second year of university. It was one of my favourite classes ever, and I always appreciated the way that my professor taught us how to craft more than just a piece of poetry, but a scene. How he showed us that the details were important too, not just the story. Maybe that's why I've always been interested in romanticizing my life.

I can't remember a time when I didn't struggle with mental health challenges. I've always had this sadness. Sometimes it's extremely intense, and other times it just lingers.

In that poetry class, I wrote a poem about my sadness and described it as dark purple. I described it as bruises that never fade. That poem got a good grade, but it was about more than that for me. It felt true, it felt like I had bruises, even though I had no idea of the trauma that lay ahead of me.

Flash forward to eight or so years later, and I understand what I meant now when I said that sadness can be like bruises that never fade. It feels like I have all of these bruises, but because of my mental illnesses, they'll never be able to heal.

Surviving the Abyss

I don't think I was ever formally diagnosed with depression. From what I remember, I went to the school psychologist, and they recommended that I see a therapist. Next thing I knew, I was 17 years old and standing in my living room, telling my mom that I didn't want to be "here" anymore. I was sent to a therapist for a few sessions after that, but nothing ever evolved.

The first talk of a diagnosis that I remember was in my first year of university, when some sort of school counsellor or doctor or something said that I might have a personality disorder in Cluster B. I looked into it a little bit, but pretty much forgot about it.

Everything came to a head in July 2017, the summer of my attempted suicide. Rewind the time just over half a year, and I was standing in my room straightening my hair for school, thinking about how I was the saddest that I'd ever been. And then I met a boy. He showed me what love was, briefly, and then brought me into a real life nightmare. For seven months, I was madly enamored with him, up until the day that he died, the day of my overdose. You see, I would have followed him anywhere. Everything went according to plan, except for one part — I had survived.

In the remains of the trauma, I was diagnosed with bipolar disorder, type II. This was the first diagnosis that actually made sense to me. I related to the manic episodes, where I remember singing to my mom while I danced on top of the coffee table. And I of course related to the depression, finally an explanation for the deep and dark feelings that I had always known so well.

In the years following, many terms have been thrown around. I relate the most to my bipolar diagnosis, my PTSD diagnosis, and my diagnosis of having traits of borderline personality disorder (BPD). Funnily enough, BPD is a personality disorder in Cluster B, just like that person at my university had said all of those years ago.

The thing about BPD is that most people don't start to show symptoms until the late teen years and into early adulthood, and those symptoms can be triggered by a traumatic experience, such as what I went through. So it seemed like things got worse for me mentally after the overdose, and it turns out, they did.

Now that you know the whole story, you should be able to see how much of a mess I truly am. I put on a façade that I have it all together, but that's nowhere near true, and I am working every day to rediscover myself on this very messy and unpredictable journey.

A Lazy Girl's Approach to Life's Small Pleasures

I've found it helpful to introduce easy and practical exercises into my routines, because let's face it, I'm a lazy girlie. My morning routine is short and efficient, including a good combination of what I need to do and what I want to do.

Mindfulness has never been easy for me, and maybe that's why I never prospered in all of those DBT classes. My mind is always running, and the world is always muted. I have a hard time tuning in. But I like to practice mindfulness by becoming aware of the small moments and enjoying them, because there's more to life than all of the unnecessary stress that we add on.

Throughout the years, I've always been able to express myself and my passion through various outlets, whether it be my writing roots, pushing myself to be of service to others, or even creating content that I care about. Spiritually, I connect myself to God in ways that feel good to me, and I practice tarot in a way that makes sense to me. I believe that belief is personal and it should be whatever you want it to be, which may be jarring for some who seek religion and spirituality for practice and tradition.

What I'm saying is that life can be really difficult when you struggle with mental health issues, especially if you're still trying to discover yourself. But I want you to remember that you don't need to know what you're doing and you can choose how your journey goes. You cannot control what happens, but you can control your perspective on the situation and how you choose to feel about it.

Transformation Personalized

From diagnosis to diagnosis, sadness has always remained, but I find small ways to make it seem not as intimidating and heavy. Some of these ways are traditional and others are not, but the important part is that they work for me. Every person's journey is different, as each person on this planet is so unique. Find the things that work for you and do those things, because those are the things that will help you stay balanced when the ground starts to rumble again.

If you're feeling good, take advantage of that and think about the things that led you to this feeling, and take note. Think of your life like a puzzle, where you get to put the pieces together how you want, and it might not fit on the first try.

However, you'll eventually be able to see the bigger picture.

[archived-kin]

genshin modern au cheat sheet

i’m planning to do more pieces set in this au, so i’ve put together a quick list of the characters i'm planning to write about/include!

there are three main groups here - the zhao family, the ragnvindr family and friends, and the Miscellaneous Pals™

(the next volume in this au is going to be a xiao piece, and that should be up within the next two or so days!)

1. the zhao family

zhongli, 36: history professor at the local uni who also plays the guzheng very well, tea-enjoyer, a very proud and supportive dad who loves his kids more than anything in the universe - probably unironically has so many pictures of them in his wallet

xiao, 23: taking a degree in psychology at the local uni, has a cool motorbike, bit of a control freak, doesn’t like surprises, will drop-kick you if you look at him or his sister funny, wants a cat but his dad’s allergic, never really grew out of his emo phase

yanfei, 19: baby of the family, prodigy lawyer-in-training, far smarter than many people give her credit for, likes building snowmen, has to protect her unsuspecting dad from Evil Salespeople looking to make some extra money

xiao and yanfei are biological siblings, and zhongli adopted them when xiao was 11 and yanfei was 7. the circumstances of this adoption is a mystery that none of the zhao family members seem willing to divulge…

the zhao siblings can have a little bit of tragic backstory. as a treat.

basically they were born into poverty and often went hungry for days on end. biological parents were distant and neglecting (though not actually physically/emotionally abusive - yet.)

when xiao was caught shoplifting bread and fruit from a local grocery store so that he and yanfei could actually eat, both parents went ballistic and kicked him out the house in the middle of one of the coldest winters the town had seen

poor kid was practically freezing to death out there, and yanfei raised such a fuss back in the house that mum slapped her square in the face to get her to shut up, which xiao saw through the window, and he promptly decided that he Was Not Putting Up With This Shit for any longer

immediately went to a neighbour’s house and told them what was going on, neighbours promptly called cps, and an investigation was launched

parents were deemed unsuitable for raising kids and (after a lot of back and forth) the two kids were taken into care

meanwhile zhongli was kind of sad because he had no friends or family in this town and all he really did was write articles, read books, and mark work

then one of his co-workers mentioned hearing about xiao and yanfei’s story and it hit zhongli so hard that he immediately rang up the adoption centre and ended up taking them in

and from then on both yanfei and xiao were very happy and healthy because zhongli was literally the best dad ever and put everything into taking care of them

2. the ragnvindr family (+ friends)

diluc, 29: budding businessman who still works at his dad’s cafe but is looking to open up his own company some time soon, still buys himself juice in those little cartons with the straws, still doesn’t know how raising bread works?? how does it get bigger???

diona, 7: diluc’s adopted daughter who has her father firmly under her thumb, bit of a spitfire but can also be the sweetest kid ever, enjoys making ‘potions’ out of grass and flowers and water (diluc can and will actually drink these potions because his love for his daughter knows no bounds)

kaeya, 25: diluc’s idiot little brother who’s changed majors at least five times and still doesn’t really know what he wants to do, practises fencing and horse riding in his spare time like a nerd, spoils his niece rotten

lisa, 26: the first of kaeya’s three roommates, has a degree in english and could easily have gone on to become a leading scholar but chose to instead open a bookshop that gets way more business than expected because she’s pretty and men and women alike are all simps

albedo, 23: the second of kaeya’s roommates, bit of a genius, has already started his chemistry phd, is almost concerningly pale and exhausted at all times, has not gone a day without breaking one of the cups for at least two years

venti, 21: the third of kaeya’s roommates, studying music, acts way older than he is sometimes but is mostly just a child, asks at least one of his roommates to marry him every day without fail, was and still is both a music and a theatre kid

lisa’s actually the one who owns the roommates’ residence because it’s on top of her bookshop

i was going to keep the whole ragnvindr family trauma thing but i decided that diluc deserved to be happy in at least one au so the brothers are still happy brothers :D

unfortunately that means that i’ve transferred a lot of the family trauma over to diona

essentially her mother died when she was a baby and her father, draff, turned to alcohol to get him through the stress of raising a child alone. unfortunately this led to him drunk driving one day, and he crashed the car into one of the wall’s of diluc’s dad’s cafe.

draff died on impact since he was in the front seat, but three-year-old diona managed to pull through despite her injuries. one thing led to another, diluc ended up taking care of her for a bit while the authorities sorted the whole thing out, but then he got too attached and decided to adopt her permanently

now diona has a dad, three uncles and an aunt who are all willing to shower her with all the love she deserves :’)))))

3. the Miscellaneous Pals™:

xiangling, xingqiu, chongyun, 17: local high school kids, they’re all kind of dating each other, low-key got adopted by xiao at one point, guoba is xiangling’s guinea pig and they all have joint custody over him

barbara, bennett, razor, 17: also local high school kids, also kind of all dating each other (but a lot more tentatively), regulars at diluc’s cafe, almost never seen apart

lumine, aether, ??: they keep showing up here and there around town to climb a tree and just sit there throwing leaves at people on the streets, then disappear. no one knows who the fuck they are

tartaglia, 23: nicknamed childe by his friends, also known as Mr Moneybags, is always just hanging around the local uni campus but doesn’t actually study anything there. his real name is ajax, but he thought that was lame so he gave himself a cool new one

eula, 24: new teacher at the local high school, her father used to be headmaster and was notoriously cruel to his students so everyone’s kind of wary of her, but she’s just really sweet and wants the best for her pupils :(((

amber, 21: number one eula defender, teaches the younger kids at the local primary, likes bunsen burners a little bit too much, still can’t remember how to spell the word necessary

hu tao, 25?: shady local mortician who may or may not practise illegal things, was kind of dating yanfei at some point but zhongli sent her packing as soon as he realised who she was, no one knows what her deal is

xiangling’s already a budding master chef and has received several offers from culinary schools, xingqiu is planning to study literature/language at uni but also might just go straight to trying to get a book published, chongyun is going to continue the family tradition of studying the supernatural with maybe a side job at xiangling’s future restaurant so that he doesn’t end up with no money if he doesn’t get any supernatural work

barbara is planning to go to medical school and also sings/dances in her spare time, bennett still doesn’t know what he wants to do but is considering carpentry among other things, and razor is dead-set on working at either a zoo or an animal shelter when he’s older

tartaglia never leaves the house without at least three pocket knives and a water pistol. he’s never had to use them yet, but you never know...

eula and amber live together and are probably dating but they’ll both just dodge the question if you ask them about it

they’re most definitely together though because on eula’s birthday amber brought her entire class of little kids to say happy birthday and bring her flowers

(incidentally amber is diona’s teacher)

[mittensmorgul]

Incoming sad rant about the spn ending. Don't read if you're not interested in reading something like that, but I literally don't know anyone in real life I can talk about this with, and I really need an outlet:

Sometimes I can put the way SPN ended out of my head and think "it's just a stupid show. I don't have to accept the finale, and the writers/network are wrong." But other times I just get gripped with really intense sadness at the disrespect that was done to my favorite characters. To the point where I'll sit still for hours a day, just wallowing in it. It ruins my whole day and mood. And then I think to myself "I'll just find some other stories that end better!" but then I get sad again, cuz I don't think I will ever love other characters as much as I love Dean and Cas, and then I spiral again thinking about all the potential this unique beautiful love story had, and how we're never going to get the closure we deserve.

I really hate that after all this time, I'm a grown ass adult getting sad over fictional characters. I know it's not that trivial, but I sometimes wish it was so I could get over it 😞

Hi hi, and first of all *socially distanced internet hugs* I’m sorry you don’t have an outlet, but you’re always welcome to chat with me (if you come off anon we can talk privately if you want. My DM’s are always open, even when it takes me a bit to reply. no one should have to feel alone in this.)

I’m actually gonna start at the bottom of your message and work my way up, because I also, as a grown-ass adult, get sad over fictional characters. And I need to emphasize that this is the *point* of fiction. A well-written and developed fictional character is *indistinguishable in our minds from an actual real human being.* The way we react to them *feels exactly the same to our brains and bodies* as how we react to real people, and that’s a testament to just how well developed Dean and Cas were in canon.

I am not a young person. I have engaged with a lot of media over my life, and have *never* felt this strongly about fictional characters before, so I understand what you mean when you struggle to think about finding another story that ended better, or struggle to think about finding other characters you might become this attached to or experience this sort of emotional investment in. And I think there is another factor you didn’t consider there: The vast majority of other media I have engaged with, I was able to relate to on a level of “oh that’s nice for them” or “wow that sucks for them.” I have never, and possibly never will again, feel so utterly invested in fictional characters, to the point where it affects my real life as much as Supernatural has. Period.

I will likely never experience *literal physical lovesickness* over two fictional characters ever again. I hadn’t ever experienced it *in my own real life* before, and yet 15.18 triggered all those symptoms in me. As an aromantic person, this was pretty shocking to me. It also says a lot about just how real these characters feel to us, and how important they have become to us. They make us feel this! This is not an accident. It’s *incredibly difficult* to create fictional characters with this range and depth of emotional connection, and yet here we are.

I think that’s the biggest evidence possibly to present in defense of the statement that THIS IS NOT JUST SOME STUPID SHOW.

Other evidence: this fandom, still going strong after 15 years. Look at every SPN convention for proof. Look at AO3, where there are more posted stories about Dean and Cas than literally any other pairing on the planet (by a not-small margin, too). If that isn’t enough evidence, we have fanart to look at as well. Look through @theroadsofararchive where at the time of this posting there are over 40,000 artworks catalogued, and more being added all the time. Same with @canonspngifs where you can search through through nearly 75,000 gifsets organized by an excellent tagging system and made by dedicated fans out of love for the thing. This is all proof that you are not alone, that so many of us care just as deeply about them as you do. Not even mentioning the people who have written hundreds of millions of words of meta, articles, and even masters theses and doctoral dissertations on Supernatural and the fandom. This is a unique thing, even within the larger fandom culture. Don’t ever let anyone tell you that your feelings for it are stupid or irrelevant or wrong.

But also don’t let anyone try to convince you that you must accept the finale as part of the story if you don’t want to. Don’t even let *yourself* believe that if you don’t want to. This show has done more to play with the themes of “what is reality” and “who gives a story meaning” and alternate universes and curses and djinn dreams to easily account for whatever the heck the finale was.

my current go-to theory: everything after Chuck’s defeat takes place in the Mockumentary Alternate Universe... it fits way too uncomfortably well... and then I just apply the fic I received in a cosmic transmission from the actual supernatural universe wrote detailing the events of what *I* hoped would transpire afterward. I know this doesn’t work for everyone, but it works for me, mostly because it *has* to. It means far too much to me not to.

You are not alone in having invested yourself into this story, and these characters. Your feelings about them are not wrong or stupid or frivolous. And the proof is everyone else who feels the same exact way, who connected to this story (and to each other through this story), and whose lives have been forever altered through this journey together. The fact that Dabb turned out to have been Chuck Junior and couldn’t see (or was prevented from showing us) what Team Free Will would’ve chosen to do with that after defeating their original creator just stands to prove to me that the finale can’t possibly be The Truth, you know?

I don’t know if any of this will help you, or provide you some small comfort right now, but maybe it will eventually. We’re all processing the loss of the show and the abject failure of story that was the finale in different ways, and I’m sure our emotional reactions will shift over time. It was just A Lot to process all in the span of a few incredibly emotional weeks-- not even mentioning how all of that emotional response was compounded by the american elections and surrounding nonsense, the general stress of enduring a global pandemic and all that entails, and *waves hands around broadly at everything else contributing to the trauma occurring in the collective of humankind right now.* We’ve all been emotionally compromised, so be kind to yourself in how you feel you’re coping with it all.

And know that no matter what, you are not alone in how you’re feeling. The grief is real, and our brains don’t care if it’s felt for fictional characters or real people. This was honestly a once in a lifetime experience for a lot of us, and not even the wtf of the finale can kill it for us if we don’t let it. I reject that particular piece of rusty rebar and choose to believe in a just and narratively coherent resolution. To do anything less feels like dishonoring the story and characters who have drawn me in and made me feel so much for them over the years. If the story itself couldn’t honor them properly, then I can choose to do so myself.

<3

[blueflamedemon]

BlueSky { Dabi x OC }

Chapter Three - Call Me Sir Again

*Chapter Summary - After butting heads a couple of times, Dabi comes to the conclusion that he and Sora are very much alike in many ways, including something that he will never admit to.

Chapter one HERE

Weeks went by with no word from Shigaraki. Sora and the others grew worried that he had been captured, so Sora took to watching the news every day to make sure he and the rest of her new friends hadn't been captured, since none of them self comfortable enough to check in with each other too often.

She was keeping her head low, being careful when she went out into public for too long, making sure not to in one area for too long. Somewhere down the line, Dabi found her a wig that hid her face enough and made her look like a whole new, younger person. It was a bit surprising when he came back one day and gave it to her out of nowhere, though she was very impressed with it.

The first few days, Dabi bought them a room in a little air b&b on the outskirts of town, tucked deep into the woods, so there would be no disturbances. Mostly, he got the place so they had somewhere to shower quickly and sleep it off for a few hours, though both were pretty difficult with her leg bandaged up.

After that, he decided it would be best if they rented a small apartment, something where Sora could hide easily and gave them both enough space to sleep--when Dabi showed up, that was.

Dabi had taken to leaving for days at a time, not calling her to check in or let her know when he might be coming back. He'd appear for a little while to make sure she was doing okay and disappear sometime during the night.

Normally, she heard him slipping out. It was hard for her to fall asleep, so she laid awake and stared out the window that her bed sat in front of, listening to the sounds of the waves crashing against the shore and Dabi's shallow breaths until he woke up. She found herself asking him where he was going at all hours of the night, but all he would ever tell her was that he was looking for recruits.

"I don't understand why you can't wait for Shigaraki's word." Sora said one day after Dabi climbed through her opened window and sat at the tiny table. "You also have a key; you don't have to become Spiderman."

"Finding new villains for the League can't wait." Dabi stated firmly, grabbing for a piece of toast that Sora had just made for herself. "When he does give us that call, I want to be ready."

"It sounds like you're trying to create your own League. Isn't there some guy that's helping Shigaraki find recruits? He found you and Himiko." Sora took the piece of toast back from him and took a huge bite out of it.

Dabi rolled his eyes and stood up, making his way over to the fridge and pulling the door open. He leaned over to look inside. "Yeah, yeah, yeah. But there might be someone he misses. Don't you have any juice boxes?"

"Are you two?" Sora raised an eyebrow. "There's a whole carton of juice in there. Grab a cup like a normal human being." She sat in the chair, seeing as only one came with the apartment, she wanted to sit in it to finish eating her breakfast.

Grumbling something she couldn't understand, Dabi reached in and pulled out an energy drink that she stored in there for training, though she hardly ever drank them because she stopped at a cafe just down the street before she trained. It was a little problem. "Why aren't you working on your Quirk?"

"You told me to take the day off. I'm really going to need you to decide what you want, sir."

Dabi was beside her instantly. He sat the drink down on the table and lifted her chin up with a single finger. "Call me 'sir' again." He breathed.

She gasped, nearly choking on the last piece of toast. Looking up at Dabi, she saw his eyes were wider than usual, and his brows were knitted together, almost in confusion. "Excuse me?" Was all she could say.

"Just what I thought. Princess better not mouth off again." He huffed and let go of her chin.

Sora grabbed his wrist, right where his burn scars ended, and she felt each one of the metal hoops that were perminetally attached. The first time she ever touched one, she thought it would be gross, like touching a reptile, but that wasn't exactly it. The scars did feel rough, but it still felt like skin. When she touched him the first time, she couldn't help but to pause and stare, which made Dabi think she was appalled, and it caused a rift in between them for a couple of days. "Is that why you've stuck around for so long? You think you can get some?"

Dabi hesitated, caught off guard by the fact he was just grabbed. His eyes flicked up to meet hers. "Somebody needs to take care of you."

****

Himiko was the one who called Sora the most. She would talk on the phone for hours, telling Sora about the boys she met, but that they just couldn't stand up to Izuku Midoriya.

When she was done explaining her need for Midoriya's blood, she would always ask how things were going with Dabi and if anything had sparked between them yet. And every time, Sora would groan and tell Himiko that nothing would ever happen between the two.

"He isn't my type." Sora would exclaim.

"But you're his." Himiko would giggle on the other end of the phone. "And last week, you told me that he got mad at you for talking to a delivery guy for too long."

"He didn't want the guy to realize he was talking with an escaped hero turned villain."

"Whatever helps you sleep at night."

It was rare to hear from any of the other villains, though she assumed they were just trying their best not to screw this up for any of them. When they did talk, they refrained from giving their location, even went so far as to not really mentioning places they visited. If one of them was caught, they would never be able to give away locations of the League.

As time went on, Sora read some rather concerning articles about charred bodies found in dark allies all throughout Japan. Police thought it strange because there were no other identifiable things that were burned, just the bodies, and most of them were hard to justify as an actual body. It was clear where Dabi had been running off to in the middle of the night.

"Dabi?" Sora opened the bathroom door to see the mysterious boy sitting on the bed, his coat draped over the foot of the mattress, and his shoes kicked off at the door, for once. She let out a small sigh of relief. "I told you to knock on the bathroom door if I'm in the shower."

Dabi rested his head against the wall, his eyes closed and his hands clasped over his stomach. "Mmmhm. You tell me a lot of things."

"Seriously, Dabi. One of these days I'm going to open this door and that's when my Quirk is going to mysteriously start working." She began drying her hair with a towel, squeezing as much water out as she could. "I keep thinking somebody broke in."

"That'll never happen on my watch."

"How will you know? You're off all day, burning people."

His eyes opened and they shifted over to her. "What do you mean by that?"

"I mean, you're all over the news. Keep going and you're going to get caught. That wasn't the point of all this." She threw the towel up to dry and walked over to the closet to pick out some clothes.

"I am?" She felt the smirk to his voice and she refrained from rolling her eyes.

"Not the point. You better slow down. How many people have you killed?"

"I only killed those who weren't worthy."

"Aren't worthy?" Sora turned around to face him. "Dabi, that sounds crazy."

"I am crazy, princess." He winked at her without missing a beat. "I kill people, remember?"

"When I met you, I had killed more people than you." Sora reminded him. She pulled out a skater dress with the ribs cut out and a pair of biker shorts to go underneath it. "So that little act you have going on? Not impressive."

Dabi was beside her in a second, one hand against the door of the closet, causing Sora to gasp and drop her clothes to the floor. She held her robe together as she stared up at him. "A while back I told you to remember your place. That still applies. You're still the pro hero in training in my eyes and you know how I feel about those ass hats." He said through gritted teeth, peering down at her with a blood-thirsty look swimming in his eyes.

"Then kill me." Sora put it simply, giving him an easy out. There were days that she was sure Dabi was tired of babysitting her, probably even sick of waiting for her Quirk to get back in working order. She never asked for this life, never asked to be a hero nor a villain, it didn't matter to her either way she went at this point. If she stuck around long enough to reek havoc on those who wronged her, she was happy, but not if it meant working with somebody who couldn't treat her as an equal. "Kill me if you feel so inclined to do so. But try to find somebody out there with as much hatred for those heroes. They didn't care about helping me, either. The one mistake I made, they threw away the key and never gave me a second thought. Never bothered to check in on me, to ask how I was doing. They pumped me full of drugs to keep my Quirk at bay and nearly killed me in the process. So go ahead, Dabi, kill me if you think for a second that I would ever go back to being called a hero."

He was silent for a moment as he towered over her, hunching to get in her face. Inches away from her nose, she caught a whiff of burning flesh, causing her to believe Dabi had just finished another one of his mass murders. It was a bit early for that, but she didn't put it passed the blue flamed boy, he was eager to kill now that he was on his streak.

For a moment, Sora thought he might burn her to a crisp right there. There was no emotion to his eyes, though his mouth twitched a few times as if he were going to say something. When he didn't, he broke their eye contact and gazed down at her lips. Butterflies broke free in her tummy and she felt goosebumps appear on the back of her neck. Was he thinking about kissing her? Or murdering her?

Dabi pulled back, slouching as he tucked his hands into his coat pockets. He rarely ever wore anything to hid himself, which made Sora wonder how he hadn't been caught yet. "How did it feel?"

Blinking, Sora looked up at him, still clutching her robe against her. "How did what feel?"

"To be abandoned by Endeavor and the other pros after promising to make you a better hero."

"Worthless." Sora said without thinking. "Like I just lost..." She paused, unsure if she wanted to get into her true feelings after that moment with Dabi. "He was a tough mentor, but I always viewed him as a father figure, seeing as I never had one. In school, he picked me to intern for him. He picked me after I graduated to be trained along side him, to better myself. He wanted me to be as strong as he was. He was harsh and had no real social skills, but I thought that he truly did care for me, somewhere deep down."

"He has no feelings." Dabi huffed. "None of the heroes do. The world would be much better without them around."

Sora always had a strange feeling that Dabi had more to his backstory than he let on. In fact, she wasn't sure he ever went into detail about why he hated everyone so much. Day by day, she saw his hatred for the pro heroes grow. Something happened to him, and she wasn't going to push it, but it felt bigger than just locking him up and throwing away the key. "I'm going to get dressed. Still be here when I get out?" She asked, calmly.

He turned his head to the opened window, which he'd previously climbed into, despite him having a key to the apartment. "Dunno."

"I'd like it if you stayed. You need a break from those murders of yours before you cremate more of yourself." She stated, picking up her clothes and walking into the bathroom, not really expecting him to stick around just because she asked. Dabi did what he wanted, when he wanted. That was why he never stuck around, he had a mission--a duty, and he was going to finish it out on his own.

She turned around and walked back into the bathroom, wondering if she should tell Dabi the whole truth about her hero days, but the thought of replaying those moments caused her skin to itch and she felt her stomach tighten. Maybe if she kept it to herself until she was ready.

Looking into the mirror, Sora saw a girl she no longer recognized. The girl staring back at her was different from the girl she saw a few months ago. This one had more freedom, despite her current situation. She had friends, she had a family. And it only took them a few days to really accept her. How ironic.

With her clothes on, she stepped out of the bathroom to see Dabi gone, the window wide open as if he had just left. She sighed, wondering if he would ever stay long enough for them to have a normal conversation.

Her phone started to buzz on the table. She picked it up without looking at the name, assuming it was Himiko. It was around that time for her to call in and check up on her.

"Hello?"

"I can't get Dabi to answer his phone. I assume he's still with you." Shigaraki's cold voice was on the other end.

"He just left." She stated, taking a seat on the bed. "Why?"

"Catch him and tell him it's time. I'll message you the location. Bring that asshole if you have to drag him by his hair!" He ordered. Sora heard the faint buzz as the line cut off.

"Nice to talk to you, too." She mumbled, glancing down at the message that flashed across her screen.

She saved opening it for later, so she wouldn't forget, and looked for Dabi's number. She quickly called him with no answer, which was a bit weird. He rarely answered his phone, but he typically picked up for hers.

Something felt wrong. She tried to call Dabi again, and this time it went straight to his voicemail. She pulled the phone away and looked at the number, making sure she was calling the right person.

Is he ignoring me? She thought as she typed up a quick message to tell him that Shigaraki called and they were all meeting up soon. Hitting send, the message failed immediately. He turned his phone completely off...

****

"You still haven't heard from Dabi?" Himiko asked as she twirled one of her knives in the air. "What a prick."

"I left a voicemail and told him what happened back at the warehouse. He hasn't stopped by the apartment, either." Sora watched out the window of the apartment, hoping by some chance she would see him prowling around outside.

"Maybe he was killed. I've seen the news, he's been a busy man." Himiko shrugged then paused. She looked up at Sora, her eyes wide and her mouth opened. "I'm sorry... you liked him, didn't you? I'm sure he's fine!"

Sora felt her cheeks warm up at the thought of liking Dabi. She couldn't fall for a guy like him, he was emotionally unavailable, a guy who could never feel anything towards her at all. He made that abundantly clear from the moment they ran away together. "I don't know what I think about him anymore. I mean, what kind of guy does this to a girl he's helping?" She sighed. "I've lost all progress we made..."

"Are you saying that you can't use your Quirk still?" The little girl tilted her head.

"I'm saying that it's hard since Dabi quit pushing me. I can't explain it, but it's like he knew how to get under my skin, make me angry, and that always helped me power up. Anger, it fuels me."

"Here," Toga raised her knife in the air, ready to slash somebody. "Let me take a swing at you, see how angry you get."

Sora giggled and shook her head. "I don't think so." She looked over at her friend. "What does Overhaul want with me? He said he was working on a drug to stop Quirks. What could he possibly want with me?"

During this meeting at the warehouse, Twice had brought a potential new recruit named Overhaul. The interview was meant to be nice and pleasant with no trouble, so Tomura claimed. Of course, nothing went exactly as planned and in the process, they lost Big Sis Magne and Compress' arm. After the fact, Overhaul warned Tomura and the others that he would be expecting Sora change sides and start working with him, as he could use someone with her type of power.

If only Dabi had been there, she wondered if Magne would still be alive, or if Compress would still have his arm. Today showed her just how much they really needed Dabi and his flames, and she bet that he knew that, too. If only he stuck around long enough when they actually needed him.

"I'm gonna kill him." Himiko said through gritted teeth. "Him and every single one of his members. They can all die."

"Dabi would have had him up in flames." Sora cracked a small smile, thinking back to the night of the bar. He'd let his walls down just enough to show concern for her. Regardless if he was actually worried or not, it felt nice that somebody was willing to fight for her.

Toga paused, then smiled, too. "Yeah... he would have. Hey, are you gonna be okay if I head out? Twice asked me to stop by his place for a sec and I don't want Tomura to think we're ganging up behind his back."

Sora waved a hand and nodded. "Go ahead, I actually just want to rest a little while, maybe go on a walk."

Sora threw on some shoes and a jacket, deciding on walking Toga outside before they went their separate ways at the fork in the road. She needed a walk to clear her head, to get her mind off of the Overhaul thing. It amazed her that two villains wanted her on their team, and yet they knew that she was Quirkless until she could heal from all the damage. Of course, once she got back into her groove, she'd be unstoppable.

Her usual park was closed due to an attack earlier that day, so Sora took a route to her second favorite place, an abandoned stretch of beach. It wasn't a very large one, in fact, you could see from one end to the other pretty easily during the day, but it was still nice and private. There was a little shack sitting above one of the rock formations, which Sora took to hiding in a couple of times, just to get away.

She left her shoes on the boardwalk to feel the sand between her toes as she walked along the sand, sticking close to the water. For someone who hated water, she loved to sit and listen to the sound of the waves crashing against the rocks, and watch the sun disappear beyond the horizon. It gave her a sense of humanity, reminding her that she might have a strong Quirk, but she was still human on the inside, she still held human emotions.

"There you are, little mouse."

Sora jumped in the air and landed with her hands ready for a fight. She saw a familiar looking figure sitting on the steps to the shack, slouched over his knees with his hands clasped in front of him. "Dabi?" She blinked.

"Sorry for the scare." He said, lazily. "You weren't back at the apartment. I figured you'd gone off with this Overhaul guy."

She let her hands fall to her sides and she walked up to the wood steps. "You couldn't tell by my voicemail that I was upset over it?"

"Yeah," Dabi shrugged his shoulders, not bothering to look up at her. "Doesn't mean you wouldn't have gone with him."

"Tomura is furious over it, too. Even if I wanted to join Overhaul, I don't think he would let me. Though the way Overhaul talked about this drug, it has me wondering."

"Sounds like he might just be using it as an excuse to get Tomura jealous. You don't think he really has a drug that can erase Quirks, do you?"

Sora tucked her hair behind her ears. "Either way, to think I might get answers about the drugs they gave me.... If he has those kinds of drugs, maybe they're the same ones."

"I would have been here sooner but... I had something to take care of." He mumbled, changing the subject, possibly to get her mind off of it.

"I thought you just got tired of me. You could have said something, you ass." Sora smacked his leg playfully.

He finally pulled his head up to look at her. He bore that same empty stare that he nearly always had, except she thought she might have seen something leave his eyes as he faced her. "Didn't want you in the middle of it. Turned out to be a dead end anyway, but it might've been more. If the police caught me, there was no way in hell they were going to find you."

"Awe, you do care about me." She teased.

"You and I aren't so different from each other."

Sora tilted her head a little and leaned against the railing, looking up at him. "Will you ever tell me your story?"

"When you need to know it." He said simply.

"You say we're alike." She pondered on that for a moment, thinking if all the ways they might be linked. It was enough for him to feel the need to keep her around. "You were an orphan, too?"

"Something like that." Dabi shrugged. "Enough guessing games. I can feel something big coming up and I need you to be prepared." He rose to his feet and jumped over the railing, landing perfectly on his feet. "That Quirk of yours is going to work eventually."

"How do you know?" Sora stepped back down into the sand. "I haven't been able to use it in weeks, you think it's just going to start now?"

"Do you trust me?" He faced her.

She paused, thinking over those words carefully. "You mean, do I trust a villain who won't even tell me where he goes every night?"

"Do you trust me as in the guy that protects you."

"Again, you're hardly around. If I'm attacked and you aren't there..."

"Answer the damn question."

"I want to trust you."

[355-miles-for-style]

Trend Forecasts: Predicting the Unpredictable

All fashion brands, from haute couture to retail, seem to stock similar styles at the same time (depending on which segment they belong to, of course). I've always wondered how that was possible.

Do people's tastes sync up, all of a sudden? Or is there something more to it?

WGSN (World Global Style Network) is an analytics and trend-forecasting service. Their Instagram page is regularly updated with predictions that date about 2-3 years into the future.

However, this forms only a small part of the story. For the low, low price of tens of thousands of dollars, you can access detailed trend analyses which cover everything from colour and texture to swimwear predictions.

There is no denying the importance of such predictions, as most brands plan their collections about two years in advance.

The predictability of a trend also depends on the type of product that's being analysed. For example, car bodies evolve over 5 years. Aircraft bodies may take decades (making any prediction a high-stakes game). For example, take the failure of the Airbus A380.

The problem was the sheer size of the plane. Although initial demand from the Emirates initiated the whole program in the first place, orders slowed to a drip after a brief surge.

Ironically, passengers loved the spacious flight and extra seating. Airline companies, however, were wary of the risks.

“The A380 is an aircraft that frightens airline CFOs; the risk of failing to sell so many seats is just too high.” ~Reuters, February 2019

Trend predictions are definitely a form of lifestyle forecasting. They depend on two important factors:

1) how are people going to spend their time?

2) how are people going to spend their money?

If you're able to answer these two questions, chances are that you'll be able to make a perfect collection. There's just one fly in the ointment: it's not very easy to answer them.

There are a few theories about why trend predictions work as well as they currently do, but I find one reason the most compelling. When brands have a ready-to-use template of what they can do to ensure success, why wouldn't they use it? I'm not just spitballing here; Marc Worth, one of the original founders of WGSN, called his former company "a monster". Of course, the problem here is that lots of brands are relying heavily on a single service, so their collections inevitably end up looking much more similar than they might like to believe.

There is a bit of science to trend forecasts, especially in the age of big data and AI, but we run into an old problem again. Using the language of science doesn't make a process scientific (a fact that is dear to my heart!), and trend predictions are certainly far from infallible. I'll be talking about this at length in a future post (yay!), but for now, I'll leave it at that.

An example of how trend analysis works. (source: Ananditha Bhuyan)

Our generation is definitely the one that prizes individualism the most. Ask any Gen Z kid how they want to appear, you'll probably hear the words "different" or "unique", nine times out of ten. This poses a very real risk to the entire field of trend analysis, because no one wants to be part of "the crowd" anymore. A recent article by Vogue explores the idea that no-name pieces are gaining traction these days, in opposition to logomania.

Unbranded jewellery on TheRealReal. source

Again, this brings to mind the joke that all hipsters end up looking the same. Modified slightly, this could apply to our generation, as well. In my opinion, subcultures are gaining more prominence in the mainstream, which leads to more people being aware of them, and thus being able to follow them. So we look fairly diverse as a whole, but once we're separated out into the subcultures that we are most drawn to, the similarities begin to show (think cottagecore, and so many other trends which have originated from this very website).

Personally, I hope the trend cycle slows down a little. No one needs two-week turnarounds or half-hearted fads.

Fast fashion fact:

The dressmakers who made Kate Middleton's wedding dress washed their hands every half hour and changed needles every three hours.

source

[panicinart]

A nanny to replace with someone new part 1

Brahms x transman/transmasc reader

Please take my writing privilege away when it's past midnight

There arnt any trigger warnings here and at the moment no gendered words or pronouns is used! I guess there is a bit of queer coding(???) if you squint but nothing to serious or specific

Your phone vibrated with a new message send to you. Scrambling it out of your pants with hasty and shaking fingers while the other hand tryd it's best to not let the travel suitcases fall on the floor. Giving it a quick glance your lips curled into a smile, it was your best friend asking how the flight into the UK was.

So you gave her a quick message on how you got the worst seat imaginable. The guy next to you constantly gave you weird glances, he tryd to be sneaky about it, looking at your way when he thought you were asleep or occupied with something else. The smell that receded from him wasn't pleasant either, betting your left arm that he didn't shower for at least 3 weeks straight.

A few seats away was a couple that constantly started a loud argument with each other about the most random and unimportant things imaginable. When the fly attended tryd to calm them down the whole scenario got even more chaotic, making a kid that was another few seats away cry loudly. You would feel bad for the child if it wasn't for your enormous migraine building up. The only good thing out of the situation was when a bag of salted snacks got accedntly thrown to your way, giving you a free extra snack.

As you clicked send an announcement made it's self know with loud static noises. The train had a one hour delay. At this point your nerves were on edge. With a heavy sigh you walked out of the airport to the underground, at least there was now some time to look at the airport stores. Buying a few snacks here and there and seeing the cute souvenirs lighten up your mood a bit, and you even found a pharmacy!

Munching at your last chocolate bar and swallowing the pill for your migraine as you clumsily walked down the stairs to the subway, you eyes skimmed for a clock, and there it was, old and a bit rusty but it worked just fine showing that it's currently 7:43 pm.

'20 more minutes'

you thought, as you gave it a quick glance with a groggy look,

'Might as well give her a quick text'

•hey,sophie the train has a delay probably will come in like an hour late if everything goes well.

It took a few minutes until she texted you back

▪︎Yea I already thought that, can't have shit in public transport >:/

•yea,,, so,,, how is the babysitting going? Is the kid as bad as the last one you took care of???

▪︎Nope! How should it when it's a doll :)

•....

....

....

a what???

▪︎A doll! It's one of those weird porcelain ones that look like a small child. It's even live sized! I was already weirded out that a couple this old would have small children of their own but that? A whole new level of weird

•,,,,what are you doing with it????

does it just hang around or do you actually take care of it??

As you waited for an answer another announcement was made, the train that should come in now 15 minutes should be here earlier.

You would have made a small victorious smile if the question didn't come crashing down like an avalanche.

Why do they keep it? Why do they need a babysitter when it's just a doll? Why is it live sized? And most importantly, how in the fresh fuck did they managed to let the train come earlier the thought. While being lost in your mind with questions your phone took you back into reality when it vibrated.

▪︎Nope! I just let it sit in the corner, sometimes I put a towel or blanket over it. It's stare is really fucking creepy....

•oh,,, so free money I guess, pretty cool.

hey sophie what was the name of the family??

Something with shire right??

Chestershire??

▪︎Heelshire, why do you ask?

•just out of curiosity, maeby there is an article about them and the doll.

i mean they are a well know family so I can imagine there is something out there about them. also my train is coming later then planned.

they made an announcement that it should come earlier the thought but,,, I think I won't come over today for the sleepover, I'm just too tired, sorry for the late cancelation

▪︎It's fine (Y/N)! You had a shitty flight so I can understand that! So we see us tomorrow :) ?

•ye

▪︎Awesome, can't wait to show you the creepy doll!

And with that the chat ended, your train already making a big entrance with the loud hald of it's heavy metallic wheels.

You took the suitcase back into your hands and tumbled your way into the train.

Looking around, you accepted defeat that there was no seat left for you, your mood slowly dipping from tired annoyance to about to having a small fit. But that wouldn't help your progress, so you swallowed your anger down and leaned to one of the metallic poles. Wobbling a bit from left to right and needing to catch your suitcase to not let it roll over a passengers feet as the train started moving again.

You grabbed your phone, hesitating for a bit

'Do I really want to know what the fuck is going on or???'

You just shrugged your shoulders and gave it a go, the heelshire family is a rich pompous family you're sure there is something about them on the internet.

Aaaaand you were right, it didn't even took a second when hundreds of articles pooped up with dramatic headlines.

Terrible fire at the Heelshire mansion

Mysterious fire in Heelshire property

Heelshire, how their live turned quickly into a nightmare

These were the few that caught your interest.

You gave the articles quick reads, your tired eyes switching between almost falling shut from tiredness and going wide at the gruesome details on the tragedy.

Well that gives you a few indications on why they keep it.

'It's probably some kind of coping mechanism....'

You don't really see yourself as someone who's heart gets torn apart everytime you hear a sad and tragic story, but you still can't shake the heaviness off it all, a family losing their only child in an enormous fire that up to this day nobody knows were it came from.

Too keep your mind off the whole thing you looked outside, still having a bitter expression of the new info as you admired the houses.

It looks like your heading towards a more suburban area, making it look like one of your old English telenovela that you watch every now and then.

As the sun slowly goes down and engulfing the area in beautiful colors was quite a bit breathtaking, infact so breathtaking that you almost missed your station.

In a moment of panic you pushed yourself out of the train almost dropping a few things in it, but luckily you had everything with you.

With lazy steps towards a billboard your eyes scanned the map for the area, the bus stop wasn't far away, just a few minutes walk, but your heavy arms slowly giving up and your feet starting to hurt didn't really help.

You got your headphones out in hopes that listening to your favorite music makes the whole thing a bit more bearable.

Even tho it was just a tiny bit left until you arrived at your destination, somehow everything went wrong one way or another. You almost missed the bus and then one of it's tire pooped, making you wait for the next one that came in like half an hour.

Then one of your water bottles wasn't closed properly making some of your stuff soaked in it, destroying your notes, drawings and a few comics you had with you in the process.

When you arrived in the small but cozy hotel a woman had a giant fight with the manager. One of her kids didn't stop bothering you with weird and uncomfortable questions about your appearance. While the other didn't keep their grabby hands off of you. Then when she finally finished her rant on how the room service didn't left a small piece of chocolate for her children like always, she had the audacity to give you a 'tch' when she walked passed you with a slightly disgusted expression. The manager and her assistant apologized for the inconvenience and offerd you some candy as a sorry gift for the inconvenience, you don't want to sound like a glutton, but it did make you forget about the whole thing for a bit.

Finally you managed to get your keys. On the way to your room you almost dropped all your stuff becoming a clumsy mess that just wants to sleep.

As you opend the door impatiently you more or less threw your stuff on the chairs and floor quickly unpacked your pajamas and hastily puting them on. Dropping your body on the softest bed you ever were able to sleep in like a rock. To say that you were happy to finally be here is taking things way to lighty. With a happy sigh you closed you eyes for the well deserving sleep.

[jazminebrightxx]

LIKE MAGIC

°l||l°l||l°l||l°l||l°l||l°l||l°l||l°l||l°l||l°l||l°

SHOW: Teen wolf

CHAPTER THREE: “works like magic”

EPISODE: 3x02 “chaos rising”

(part two)

The sudden fact and shock of Erica's death hung in the air, tension rising between Derek and Isaac. After Kaitlin had passed out Stiles grew worried for his childhood best friend. But the thought of the bombshell she had dropped on the two of them not even an hour ago still loomed in his mind.k

He looked at the brunette who sat on a table, her uncle looked here over, double checking she was okay, Stiles was confused, he didn't know how to feel about the fact that the girl he'd known his whole life was a supernatural. In one instance, he still just saw Kaitlin, the girl he had grew up with, the girl who's mom was best friends with his mom before she died. He saw the way her nose crinkled up when she laughed and the dimples when she smiled. Or how she played with her collarbone when she was nervous. Then on the other hand, he saw her in a whole new light, she was a witch, he'd seen her do it, she held Isaac down so effortlessly and was willing to hurt herself to help.

Kaitlin caught Stiles gaze, sighing, she says a few words to her uncle, jumping from the table and made her way over to the two friends, awkwardly standing in front of them.

"We should talk" she stated, her arms crossed over her chest, the boys look to each other, silently agreeing "okay" They make their way outside, standing near the redheads car, she leans against the hood as she crosses her arms.

"Why would you lie to us?" Scott questions, a scowl grows on Kaitlin's face, shaking her head slightly "I didn't lie to you, I'd never lie to you. I just..." she sighs, looking at her feet.

"My mom tried to hide it from me for the first few years of my life" she looks up at the two, slight hurt in her eyes

"When it finally happened she explained everything to me, but made me swear to keep it a secret" her voice was horse, her head still slightly sore.

"How'd it happen" Stiles questions from his place, standing against the wall across from the redhead

"Eight years ago" she starts "I came home from school after a really bad day" she takes a quick glance at Stiles, the boy listening intently. "Every little thing annoyed and agitated me, then I got really upset with my mom, which ended in me shattering my kitchen windows without trying" she chuckles lightly at the memory.  "she knew she had to tell me after that, I was young, but I wasn't dumb"

"She explained everything to me, but even if I was allowed I couldn't tell you guys" her voice wavers, emotion building up slightly, she looks to Stiles "you had just lost your mom" then to Scott "and your dad...you were just kids"

"Katie you were a kid too"

Kaitlin goes quiet, looking down at her feet, she sighs "it was so hard, when I moved away, it killed me. I hated it, the thought that I might never see you guys again, I thought that I would never get the chance to tell you guys the truth" she shakes her head, looking back at her friends.

"The reality of it set in when Lydia told me she knew" the two boys look at each other dumbfounded, Kaitlin laughs

"Yeah that's how I felt, she said something about a feeling"

"Psychic" Stiles mumbles

Scott steps forward, his arms slightly crossed "Katie, I think I speak for us both when I say, we don't blame you and we're okay with it" he smiles "but how did you know about... you know, me" Kaitlin smiles

"About two weeks before I moved back, deaton came to Boston for the weekend. He sat me down and explained everything, Peter, Derek, the kanima and what's currently happening, the alpha pack" Scott smiles with her "have to admit, I was speechless"

Stiles stands straight from his position, clapping his hands together. He walks forwards standing beside Kaitlin and wrapping an arm around her shoulder

"Well, I for one am very excited for all of the 'Sabrina the teenage witch' jokes I'm about to make" he jokes, Kaitlin laughs at him, wrapping her arm around stiles lower back, he pulls her closer, squeezing her comfortably

"Looking forward to it."

******

"She's not dead" Derek Hale yelled at his beta, Isaac flinched at the loudness of his voice, the two had been arguing over the status of Erica.

"Derek, he said, 'there's a dead body. It's Erica.' Doesn't exactly leave us much room for interpretation" Stiles explains, Kaitlin sat beside Isaac on a counter, rubbing her temple in irritation

"Then who was in the vault with Boyd?" Kaitlin rolls her eyes, growing tired of the same conversation "someone else obviously"

"Maybe it was the girl on the motorcycle." He looks to Isaac "the one who saved you?"

"No, she wasn't like us, and whoever was in the vault with Boyd was." Stiles crosses his arms, a sigh escaping his lips.

"What if that's how Erica died? They pit them against the each other during the full moons and see which one survives, it's like werewolf thunder dome" Stiles rambles, Kaitlin lets out a breathy chuckle, Stiles' humor always slipped through at the worst times.

"Then we get them out tonight" Derek pushes even further

"Be smart about this, Derek. You can't just go storming in" Deaton buts in. But Derek won't give up "if Isaac got in, then so can we"

"But he didn't get through the vault door, did he?" Kaitlin finally says, the alpha turning his gaze to her "we need a plan"

"How are we going to come up with a plan to break into a bank vault in less than 24 hours?" He questions the witch, a smug look on his face, challenging her. She gives him an exasperated look.

"Oh I don't know you tell me, your the one that plans on getting them out tonight?" She sits up from her position, Derek glares at the witch

"Uh I think someone already did" Stiles looks at his phone "beacon hills first national bank closes its doors three months after vault robbery" he reads from his phone, handing it to Kaitlin who skim reads over the article

"It doesn't say how it was robbed but it probably won't take long to find out" the girl hands the phone back.

"How long?"

"It's the internet, Derek. Okay? Minutes"

*****

Scott and Stiles went to stiles' house after leaving the animal clinic last night to try find out more about the bank. Kaitlin had told them she would stop by in the morning before school and see how they had progressed, what she didn't expect to see was the two boys Sprawled across the room, papers scattered everywhere, some coming from the printer, both passed out.

"Guys" she attempts to wake her friends, the two teens not moving "guys!" Still even at her raised voice, they slept soundly.

She crosses her arms, smirking, she kicks the chair Scott sat on, he falls from the chair, waking himself and Stiles up as he does.

The two boys smile sheepishly at the witch when they notice her, she stands tall smirking at the boys, wearing a light purple spaghetti string top over a long sleeve white T-shirt paired with denim high waist jeans and her converse.

Stilinski walks into the room, two cups of coffee in his hand, he hands Kaitlin one, the brunette smiles at him, saying a quick thank you

"I see you woke them for me" he laughs "time for school" he states, turning to walk out of the room "Wait, dad!" Stiles calls, his father turning back to look at him

"Heather?" Kaitlin's ears perk up at the familiar name, Stilinski frowns, shaking his head "no. Nothing yet" Stiles' face falls after his father walks out

The room is silent for a few moments, before Stiles speaks up "ten hours and nothing."  He states in frustration

"We're gonna find something" Scott reassures him, glancing at Kaitlin

"Finding something doesn't make Erica any less dead" Stiles argues, moving to clean his room "or Boyd any less about-to-be dead

"We still have time" Scott reassures further, Stiles glances at Kaitlin who shrugs

"Is this whole 'remain optimistic in the face of complete and utter disaster' thing apart of the 'be a better Scott McCall' program?" Classic sarcasm from the king of sarcasm, Kaitlin chuckles, trying to hide her amusement

"Not if it doesn't work"

Stiles sighs in frustration, crumpling a piece of paper in his hand "no, it works"

Kaitlin looks at the papers around the room "Uh guys, maybe your work isn't a total failure" she calls when she notices a newspaper article with Stilinski arresting a man outside beacon hills first national bank

She moves to show Stiles the article, the boys eyes widening and pushing the article to Scott, moving to run out of the room

"Dad! Dad! Wait! Dad!" He runs out of the room, Scott looks to Kaitlin who smiles

*****

Kaitlin jumps out of her car, parked next to stiles' Jeep. The boy groans when he jumps out of the Roscoe, waiting for Kaitlin to catch up to the two, when she does, Scott pulls out his phone and they start walking

"Alright, so we meet at Derek's at 5:00 to go over the plan, and then we don't get started until dark" he swings his bag over his shoulders, Kaitlin sighs

"Do I have to come, Derek's a bit of an ass" she states, Derek's attitude towards the whole situation yesterday make Kaitlin look at the man differently

"Derek's not all that bad, Katie. He's just sour about everything with Erica and Boyd" Stiles explains, reassuring the girl who nods "Yeah I guess, what do we do till then?"

"Well right now, we've got English."

*****

The school day had gone by like any other, boring classes and boring teachers.

After school, Kaitlin, Scott and Stiles met at Derek's like planned

"Okay, you see this?" Stiles pulls out blueprints and a red marker, marking a few places on the sheet

"This is how they got in, it's a rooftop air conditioning vent" he explains the route of the vault that the robbers had took

"It leads down inside into the wall of the vault, which is here. Okay?" He circles the section where the vent is.

"One of the robbers was lowered into this shaft, now that space is so small it took him about 12 hour to drill into that wall, which is stone by the way." He continues, glancing back and forth

"Then throughout the rest of the night, they siphoned the cash up to the guys in the roof, through that one little shaft in the wall. Boom!" He hits the table, putting the cap on the marker

"Can we fit in there?" Scott questions, leaning over the table and observing the sheet

"Yes, we can, but very, very barely." Stiles continues to hit the paper lightly as he talks "and they also patched the wall, obviously,so we're gonna need a drill of some kind"

Kaitlin watches the three men from a counter near by, her legs crisscrossed under her

"I'm thinking maybe a diamond bit.." Stiles starts to ramble again but is cut off by Derek

"Look, forget the drill." He states, Stiles freezes in his place, moving his fist slightly up and down "sorry?"

"If I go in first, how much space do I have?" He looks down at the prints, his mind set in stone

Stiles questionably eyes him, glancing at Scott and then back. "What do you think you're gonna do Derek?"

"Are you gonna punch through the wall?" They straighten up, Derek crossing his arms

"Yes, stiles, I'm gonna punch through the wall." Derek smugly smiles at the teenager

"Okay, big guy let's see it. Let's see that fist." Stiles challenges the taller man, Kaitlin straightens up to watch the scene unfold

"Big old fist. Make it, come on." He pushes further, growing cocky

Derek clenches his hand into a fist, his arms still semi crossed.

"Get it out there. Don't be scared. Big, bad wolf. Yeah, look at that" Kaitlin snickers, earning a glance from Peter Hale who sat on the stairs

Stiles grabs Derek's wrist, putting his hand a few inches away from Derek's fist "Okay, see this?"

"That's maybe three inches of room to gather enough force to punch through solid..." Stiles doesn't get to finish his sentence as Derek punches his hand, Sending him backwards in pain, he hits his hand against the metal table. Kaitlin winces.

Stiles whines like a dying cat, falling around the room, holding his newly injured hand "he could do it"

"I'll get through the wall" Derek ignores Stiles as he quietly whimpers

"Who's following me down?" He rests his hands back down in the metal table, looking at Peter

"Don't look at me." Derek's uncle states "I'm not up to fighting speed yet. And honestly with Isaac out of commission, your not looking at very good odds for yourself"

"So I'm supposed to just let them die?" Derek questions his uncle

"Well one of them is already dead" Peter states, a sarcastic grin on his face

"We don't know that" Derek insists, Kaitlin rolls her eyes, sighing and jumping off the table

"Give it up Derek" she starts, all eyes turn to her "you do know what we're up against, right?"

"A pack of freaking alphas. All of them killers, ruthless killers at that. We don't even know all of them" the redhead crosses her arms, standing beside the table

"And if that doesn't scare your testicles back into your stomach, try to remember that two of them form together to make one giant alpha" she finishes, Derek looks to her curiously.

"She's right you know" Peter speaks up "I'm sure Erica and Boyd were great kids, they're gonna be missed" he finishes, stiles glares

"Can someone kill him again please?"

Peter looks back at Stiles, a stern look on his face. "Derek, seriously"

"Not worth the risk" he finishes, referring to the plan to rescue Boyd and the person in the vault

"What about you?" He looks to Scott, Stiles shrugs

"Yeah, if you want me to come..."

"Not you" Derek sternly denies, looking back to Scott

"Scott?" Stiles turns to look at his friend, pointing his thumb in the werewolf's direction.

"I don't know about Erica,but if Boyd's still alive, we have to do something" Scott states, Derek clenches his jaw but nods. Scott looks at Peter, he rolls his eyes and sighs.

"We have to try" Scott pauses, Derek raises his eyebrows "but?"

"Who's the other girl" he turns to look at Stiles and Derek "the one locked in there with Boyd?"

You should know, I am slow with updates. IM SORRY. but anyway have this crappy update :( I promise it gets better and Kaitlin is my favorite oc I’ve ever made so get ready to get to know her more.

[tobesensation-9]

‘When You Fall’ Pt. 1 (Youngbin x Reader)

Genre: Angst, Romance (Mentions of breaking up, heartbreak, grief, fluff) 

Synopsis: Inspired by Sam Kim’s song, You and Youngbin recollect memories of your past relationship after running into each other one year later. 

December 1st 

You thought you had set your alarm for 9:15am today. But when you rolled over and picked up your ringing phone from your nightstand and swiped to answer the call without thinking, you realised it was way passed 9:15am. 

“Y/N! Where are you!” Your mother yells over the phone.

You snap out of your grogginess and sit up in bed. You were supposed to meet with your mom to help her shop for Christmas gifts for your family at 9:45. You remove your phone from your face to look at the time and it’s 10:30. Oops.

“I’m sorry mom. I had a tiring day at work yesterday so I overslept. Go ahead and start without me, I’ll catch up with you. Just tell me what store you’re in when I get there.”

“Okay sweetie. Don’t have me waiting too long okay? I’ll treat you to some lunch when you get here too.”

“Okay. Thanks mom. See you soon.”

You’ve been feeling stagnant lately, like all your hard work hasn’t been recognized. You’ve been working super hard at work, work on a new PR project for a clothing store and it was eating you up. You also had to worry about all the gifts to get you family and try to make your siblings and nieces especially feel batter about the holidays this year with everything happening.

But there was something else that had you feeling a little down. Your phone buzzes at a news article notification your received and as you look to see you notice the date.

December 1st. It’s been a year already? Was it just ironic? A coincidence? No it couldn’t be.

You look up and talk to nothing in particular, referring to the universe, “You did that to remind to let go right?”

You give a small smile and shrug standing at your sink counter. You look at yourself in your mirror holding eye contact. Yeah, it’s definitely because of that. Because of him.

November 28th

You and your best friend are over your place for drinks after a hard week at work.

“And then he said, ‘Liv, can you go replace the paper in the copier for once. It doesn’t seem like you ever do that. It’s nice to try something new.’ How could be assume I never replace the printer with paper! He never asked hey, ‘Hey Liv did you leave the printer empty?”

Your friend crushes her third canned beer and reaches for another can. “Oh, we only have one more.”

You look up at the coffee table from the floor. “Oh yeah.” You were kinda tipsy yourself having crushed three beers yourself. “I’ll go and grab some more from the convienece store. I’ll be back.”

Your friend nods and grabs another piece of fried chicken to eat with her new can of beer. You threw on an over-sized sweatshirt not caring to change your pajama pants and some sneakers on with your hills hanging out. You didn’t even bother to but the shoes on all the way. Two minutes you walk into the store go straight back to grab two boxes of beer and look for any ramen and chips your could add to tonight’s menu. As you walk to turn into the aisle with ramen you bump into someone’s arm.

“Oh sorry.” You nod quickly without any regard to looking at their eyes and keep it moving.

“Um.... y/n?”

You stop in place, frozen. You turn around at the familiar voice.

“It’s you isn’t it?”

You look up at the figure talking to you. As you looked up and scanned the body, something about it was strangely familiar. Once you reached the half-covered face you knew exactly who it was. You didn’t even need to see the whole face, you knew who it was just by his eyes.

“Oh. Hey Youngbin.” Your greeting, you didn’t know if it sounded too excited or if it was too forced. You definitely didn’t want to sound unhappy, although happy wouldn’t be the word to use to describe how you felt seeing him after all this time. Your stomach performed somersaults as he giggled a bit and greeted you back. You could tell he was smiling, his eyes were crinkled in the corners, even with him wearing a face mask.

A genuine smile, you didn’t know how he could show you such a thing, after so long. Part of it still pained you, another part of you missed it. A lot.

“Have company?” He asks eyeing the boxes of beer you were holding.

“Yeah just me and Liv.” You try to ease yourself away to scan the ramen options. Then you remembered that your had sirloin at the house, so you decided to get the instant noodles packs for Chapaghetti.

“If you’re getting more things I’ll take this.” Before you can object, Youngbin already holds the two boxes of beer and motions you to go ahead and pick the ramens you were eyeing.

Once you pickup the packs of ramen and some bags of potato chips, you sit your items on the counter. When you do Youngbin sits his two items on the counter as well and tells the cashier that all of the items were his. “No you don’t have to I’m-”

“I know how you can get when you drink a little after working. You didn't bring cash did you?” 

You check your sweatshirt pocket and realise that you did leave the apartment without any cash. You looked down and felt your face getting hot. 

After he paid for everything he hands you the with your ramen and his two drinks as he holds the beers. “What are you doing?” 

He looks at, raising his eyebrows, “C’mon I’ll take this for you. You still live a couple minutes away right?” 

Your face was starting to feel hotter and hotter by the minute. “Y-yeah.” 

He starts walking in the direction of your apartment and you trail behind him, hesitantly. Why was he doing all this? You guys ended on such a sour note, well at least that’s how it felt. Did he not feel that way? 

Your thoughts questioned his actions more and more. You over-analysed so much to the point where you didn’t even realize you were at your apartment building until Youngbin said something. “Ahh..could you grab the door me?” You shake your head and realize that you were about to pass your own apartment building. You walk back mutter a “sorry” and pushed the door open for him. He giggles behind you to himself as you pressed your floor number not the elevator. 

The whole time the two of you walked, you hadn't uttered a word to each other. That was until he asked you a question the minute the two of you walked into the elevator and the doors shut. 

“That voicemail I sent you that one time,” your stomach immediately dropped at the subject. “Did you ever listen to it?” 

Maybe about a few months or so after the two of you separated he called you randomly one day and left a voicemail. You’ve always wanted to listen to it, but you were too scarred. You’d always hover your finger over the play button, a curious part of you wanting to listen to the two minute voicemail, the part that missed you. But the hurt part of you, the part of you that wanted to hold a grudge, wouldn't allow you to. 

“I...uh. I honestly count bring myself to listen to it.” 

You see him look over at you through your peripheral and he stars at you. You never look back over at him. He then gives a “hmm” and nods. You finally reach your floor and the two of you walk out to your door. As you pull out you enter your code on your door security system you here quietly say behind you , “Whenever you’re ready, just let me know.” At that you quickly push the door open, hand him his bag, take the beer and rush into the apartment. 

“Y/nnnnnn! What took you soooo longggg,” Liv whines as you put everything down and try to hurry up and hand her a beer before she notices Youngbin hovering in your doorway. “Yeah I know I'm sorry. Here.” But as you try to han her the can of beer from the box she turns around makes instant eye contact with Youngbin.

“Oh, wait y/n is that Youngbin? Youngbin?” 

She stumbles to get up and waves happily at Youngbin. He waves back and asks her how she’s been. 

“So are you guys back together? Why didn't you tell me? I would've understood, but you didnt have to keep it from me.” 

Before Youngbin could say anteing you immediately deny with a sharp “no” hand her, her beer and try to dismiss Youngbin. “Well he has to go now, I'm just gone send him off, say bye Liv.” 

“Byeeee come back soon. Y/n still misses you by the way, you still have a chance. I’ve always rooted for you!” 

You slam the door behind you, but he could already what she said. You see him smiling under his mask, just by looking at his eyes again. 

“I see Liv is still, Liv.” “Yeah..” The two of you stand in front of your door for the longest time not saying anything, before he says “Well, I should get back.” 

“Oh yeah, um.... thanks for the help.”

His eyes smile at you. He nods and turns around toward the elevator. A part of you wanted to ask what he meant by “let me know when you’re ready.” Before you could stop yourself you yelled his name and walked over to him.

“Yeah?”

You stop and stare at him studying what you could see of his face. “What did you mean?”

“By what?”

“When you mumbled let me know when you’re ready?”

He looks into your eyes and holds eye contact for a few seconds. By the time the elevator dings and the doors open he just says, “The voicemail will tell you.”

He steps into the elevator and turns to you and says, “Just let me know when you’re ready.” Then the doors close.

December 1st

You take a quick shower before getting ready and you jump in the car to finally meet your mom.

When you arrive at the shopping center, you call your mom to see what store she’s in. Not so ironically it was a store that you and Youngbin would go to all the time. One of his favorites.

You walked into the store and found yourself mom in the men’s clothing section of the store looking for clothes for your dad.

“Hey sweetie are you okay?”

“Yeah like I said just tired from work. Did dad want new clothes?”

She turns around to you with a jacket in hand to get your approval. 

“Do you know your father asked me to get him a jacket. I looked up pictures of jackets from different stores to show and he didn’t like any of them. Not long after that, I see him looking up jackets to bye. I had to scold him right then and there. It already hard to buy gifts for him and he just has to make it harder on me.” 

You just look at your mom, smile and shake your head, it sounds like something your father would do. 

“So what do you think about this one?” 

She holds a black windbreaker jacket, it seemed like it was perfect for your dad. “I thin he’d love it. It’s perfectly his style.” 

Walking around and shopping with you mom was a good escape from your memories of a few days ago. Along with all the memories of your passed relationship from almost two years ago now. 

You soon arrive at a cafe, find an area away from large groups of people and talk to your mom for a little bit. You order a latte and and a bacon grilled cheese sandwich. Your mom orders cranberry juice and a Caesar salad. She asks work, friends, and other things. Along with those things she mentions Youngbin, you guess she too realised its been a year since you broke up. 

“I um....actually saw him the other day.” The minute you say this your mother stars at you, her eyes glazed with sorrow. She knew how much the break up affected you, its not that she pitied you because she knew you were strong. But she looked to make sure you were okay. 

“Really? How?”

“I was drinking one night with Liv. Went to the convenience to get us some more beers and ran into him there. He helped me with my things and walked me home.” 

“He was always sweet. Thats one thing that will never change.” 

You nod. “You know that voicemail he left me, he asked me about it.” 

Her eyes get wide and she raises her eyebrows, “Really? You still haven't listened to it right?” 

“Yeah I haven't. When I told him that he just nodded and told me to let me know when I’m ready.” 

“What does that mean?” Your mom expressed the frustration that you felt inside, stabbing her fork into her salad and eating some lettuce and cucumber. 

“He just told me to listen to the voicemail and I’ll find out.” 

You hug your mom and kiss her on the cheek once you helped her take all the gifts to your parents house. You see your father in passing to and give him. hug and a kiss. You wanted to stay to talk to your dad but you weren't really in the mood. Talking about Youngbin again, made you feel a lot of things you couldn't explain. Sad, frustrated, angry, insecure. All the feelings you felt when you first broke up came rushing back to you. 

You came home and stripped yourself of your clothes immediately, walking to your bathroom and running water in the bath tub. You submerged yourself into the filling tub, and laid your head back against the cool tile. Suddenly a tear rolled down your cheek as you laid there, in the warmth of the tub. Normal crying was easy to let out, with sudden emotions, but pent up emotions, resulted in strained crying. Strained crying always had you slightly hyperventilating, with those repetitive gasps and a strained and pained throat. This was the type of cry you were going to have because of him, you knew it.

Pt. 2 Coming Soon!

[sinnabonka]

Hey Hun! Lots of love to you. For starters I wanted to say that there should be no cell in your body blaming yself in any way. You and your blog were hope for so many people. You were the "you are not crazy" of the final weeks, and I'm forever grateful to you. Instead of dying of anxiety I managed to have a blast in this time of waiting, thanks to you. I passed my master thesis, because you gave me strength to see past the fear. I laughed in those weeks more than in last 5 years, and all of it because of the hope you gave me.

The rest of the msg is going to be pretty emotional rant about the awfulness of it all, and I know my opinion doesn't matter to anyone but I wanted someone important to me to hear my thoughts, if that's ok. It's also ok if you don't want to read it ofc. It's like my breakup letter to the show.

I hear many people cheering for the finale and i find it really hard to deal with. I always considered myself an open person who fights for healthy love as the only redeeming quality of the universe. I could see people's point of view, even if it didn't sit well with mine, and I would always try to hear them out respectfully until they weren't being respectful themselves. That said, I'm fully unable to understand cheering for this type of spiteful content and hearing those cheers makes me feel like the entire world is listening to "this is how you treat your fans, this is how to abuse your power over naive sheep, this is how to keep dumb, hopeful minorities in check" and taking notes.

It also upsets me that the people who gave this show all of themselves and tried to understand it to the core are given no resolution, are spitted on and buried under the rug for doing their best to appreciate the art and the story it was telling. Yet people, who just hang around and watch the show doing the dishes, with no consideration to it's story or characters, got as nonsensical ending as their whole idea of character development in SPN.

I know people say that it was good enough, because it leaves space for guessing and own interpretation, but I feel it's really undermining the extend to which the finale was awful and hurtful to the fans. There is no end that realistically could stop fanfic writers from finding way around it in the world of Supernatural, so saying it was thoughtful of them Is like excusing abusive partner because "they could hit me harder, but they didn't. That means they care"

Lose ends, characters being written in a way that is totally not true to them and their development (personally my biggest allegation), dismissing years of story development, proving that it was all 'queerbaiting' in big part in the end (hell, even the whole "Cas is in heaven so do with it what you will" is a shameful way of appalling to LGBTQ community after using them so hard.

In the pie scene, the roles should be swapped, it's Dean who should say that Cas is on his mind and Sam explaining him that it's only right to keep on living doing good in their name. That's what Dean told Sam at the beginning of the season, when Sam lost Rowena, so it would be at least a bit poetic. This would at least give us some truth from Dean for once, but he died how he lived, in shadow of his fear to be true towards his feelings and needs. And as he died, he bound his little brother to the hunting till the end of his days, by guilting him into it on his deathbed. Guess Dean took after his father.

Have you realised what that emotional "love speech" from Dean to Sam resulted in? It was writers taking back Cas' confession after they didn't need our viewership anymore.

They basically gave us love confession to get us to follow the finale and when they didn't need us anymore, not only they didn't commit to the confession, but they undermined it by having Dean's speech to Sam go the way it did with obviously higher emotional charge, successfully taking back the value of Cas' confession and making it about a bait for "Tumblr idiots"

Finale killed my feelings towards Destiel, not because it wasn't confirmed canon, but because from what I see in the episode, they canonically confirmed that

- for Dean, Cas was only means to an end, which is such an awful way of ending Cas' character arc. They gave him everything he was scared of and nothing close to consolation price and they dare to tell us he had a happy ending, "because they said so". Well, I didn't see him being happy, and knowing what i textually know i can empathise enough to say that he faced a miserable finish. Even Chuck got an end that was better than Cas' fate.

- Dean, given power to do anything he could dream of, chooses to not even greet Cas, after Cas gave his whole life to Dean, told him he loved him and died for him. I know some people consider the little smirk of Dean confirmation of his feelings, but let's be real for just a second. If someone you deeply loved for years confessed to you, told you they thought you don't love them back, you would be freaking running to see them and tell them how much you love them. That smirk to me reads as "I'm relieved to know you're not going to spend eternity in mega hell that i left you in" and we really need to stop giving credit to writers for scraps like this when it's the last episode ever and we know this isn't going anywhere.

Not to mention that by having Jack bring Cas back behind the scenes it just highlights the fact that Dean didn't ask him to do that in episode 19.

As result, I'm unable to look at any Destiel scene and not think "in here Cas already loved him and in here Dean already abuses the power he had over Cas, because of his one-sided love"

And yet, the episode and endgames for everyone (maybe not Sam, but he was seriously pinning for Dean his entire life. Wincest much?) managed to be so bad, that not even bringing Cas back or following up on Destiel would make a difference in my eyes. I know you believe that Destiel would save it, but for me as much as it would be a redeeming quality, it wouldn't be enough to save this awfulness that writer doomed characters with.

And all the Wincest scenes in the finale... I low key expected them to make out and it made me feel physically sick. Also, cutting Misha out because of coronavirus is a cheap excuse. We all know better than to believe that, so let's not fall for the self pity play from the abuser.

If you managed to stay with me till this point, thank you so much for hearing me out. I hope i didn't anger you with my monologue. I will always think of the lamp when i think of you. The reality is that you were the lamp for so many of us in this darkness.

Love you so much, wish all the best to you, take care of yourself and stay safe!

Oh my god, if I didn’t cry with the final, I definitely am crying now. And now I have to explain my partner why I’m staring at my laptop and sobbing ugly. What have you done? 

First of all, I hear you pain, my friend! I share it! I didn’t spend a second after the final without the feeling of my heart being shuttered into million pieces, being stitched back just to break again, and so on and so on. 

I had my first panic attack in two years yesterday, when I kept thinking about the message the show sent to the fandom via Dean’s fate. I have a few posts in my draft on the matter, but I am not sure I will ever share them, because it is one strong depresso, and I don’t think people following me should see how fucked up it really is (if they didn’t get it by themselves, of course). 

I want to remind you, my gentle soul, that the story belongs to us. We know Dean, we know Cas, we know Sam and others. We know that the final is not who they are! I know it’s hard to ignore the text, the canon, because it’s kinda godsent, but the truth is essential. And the final is not the truth.

The truth: 

Cas loves Dean, he sacrificed himself for him, he saved his life on multiple occasions, he told all those beautiful things and he meant every word.

Dean loves Cas, he was on his lowest every time he lost him, Cas was his “big win”, his best friend, his brother, his white light that lead him out of his anger, hatred and despair. He took a dog and called it Miracle, he was looking for a job to retire from hunting, he didn’t kill Chuck - all of that, because the sacrifice Cas made was not in vain! The message was clear. 

I choose to ignore the “Carry on”, the only attention it is going to get is me creating 20 more mails just to put a one star review there and to drop some more salty or bitter comments with it. Maybe I will read through some reviews, too, add them to my collection. 

Maybe I will one day write here an article from scriptwriting perspective how fucked up in was, because that’s what I can do about it, without throwing up. 

If you can’t ignore it, I understand it. It is painful, it is disrespectful, I hate it as much as you do, probably. 

If there’s anything I can do for you to feel better, just drop me a message, we can talk about it. I am on the lowest, too, but maybe we can help each other.

You say I was your lamp. Let me lead you our of the darkness one more time <3 

CW can suck my metaphorical dick (I’m tagging every angry post with it), but Supernatural is not just the show on CW, it’s a big family. 

And you can’t give up on it! You can’t give up on Dean and Cas, you can’t give up on Destiel! It’s so much bigger then the show itself.

Rediscover the show for yourself, remind yourself that Dean and Cas are real, it was never one sided, it was always something amazing. 

What is real? We are.

Don’t you ever change.

I rather have you, cursed or not.

It’s love, hun, and love always wins. 

[fulcrum-agent]

012. Promises [FFXIVwrite2021]

She seems to be packing up some things into a small pack, many different articles of light clothing.

The Bozjan enters the bedroom by passing through the curtain threshold. Upon seeing her packing something into a small pack, he'd speak up and ask, "What.. are you doing?"

"The Outlaw's got a contract from Dalmasca," she explains as she looks over her shoulder. "We're going into Golmore to rescue a bunch of Rava the Empire's been using as...living incubation chambers."

He crosses his arms over his chest and cants his head curiously. "Living.. incubation chambers..?"

There's a slight nod as she finishes packing.

"Yeah...for clones of a hypertuned sharpshooter named Novinius," she clarifies for him. "The guy we killed in Velciff. They were apparently manufacturing more of him."

"Hmph... If he is.. someone that you've killed before," he considers aloud, "then making sure that.. he doesn't come back in a sense would be.. a priority."

He's given another slight nod in response.

"He broke an oath made to the Creed, a group that some of the crew trained with," she continues as she ties the satchel closed. "Everyone was relieved when he was killed, but now..."

Frowning, the Bozjan notes as he uncrosses his arms, "Now.. you will all need to just.. prevent him from returning."

"Yeah, and kill of the bastard who's doing all this," she adds as she turns to face him. "Who also was thought to be dead. Guy called the Butcher. Friend of my Father's. That should tell you enough."

This gives her lover pause before he quietly asks, "... You have a sense of.. responsibility to this, don't you? Because of this Butcher's connection to your father."

She nods a little.

"So does Lio. The...woman who came to ask for our help was..." her voice trails off as she shivers a little, "...she was more bits and pieces than a whole. I dunno how they got her back into the shape she's in now, short of a Padjali hiding somewhere in the crew."

"I see," he intones before asking, "Will your brother.. be joining you on this mission?"

"This is a whole crew effort, yeah," she explains to him as she nods. "We're...going so far as to take the Arcadia instead of the Outlaw," she confirms for him. "It's...possibly a suicide mission if any of us fuck up."

She sets the pack down on the ground. "If this Butcher's anything like Father...the place is more well-guarded than most castrums are."

He frowns a lot when she says that this is possibly a suicide mission. "Are you... serious?"

"I am. Novinius could shoot a man down from malms away, perfect headshots," she answers quietly with a nod. "His clones may or may not be capable of the same. Variants could be even more dangerous than the original - just look at Merrick."

The Bozjan takes a few steps closer to her, staring directly into her blue eyes with his almost-luminescent green eyes.

"I did not.. ask about a dead man's clones. I asked you... if you are serious about this mission," he gently corrects before asking more questions. "A suicide mission? And Liocyon is going as well..?"

She reflexively reaches down to grasp both of his hands, nodding a little.

"Yeah, I am. So's Lio," she answers, now that he's clarified the question. "It's dangerous, but as long as everyone plays their part...we'll make it back alive...I think."

In a tone that reveals his disappointment, he asks, "... And you were not.. thinking of asking me.. to join you, were you?"

"I...don't have a choice, Leth. Locke's not against you joining the crew, but this isn't just some slaver run," she quietly explains to him. "We got the request last night, not long after getting back from Coerthas. If there were more time, he might agree to it...but..."

"You have just returned from Coerthas.. after spending a lot of your still-growing aetherpool, and now.. you are being sent on a mission.. that is highly dangerous," he shakes his head, and not realizing that his hands had been grabbed yet. "This is.. ridiculous."

She fidgets a little at that.

"I've gained most of it back, and the rest was made up for with aetherwine," she assures him softly, gently squeezing his hands. "We don't always get the luxury of a full recovery."

Sighing, the man relents a little, "No... No, we are not. Not on a battlefield and not even... at home."

Letting go of one of his hands, she reaches up to touch his cheek as she speaks, "You went off to Zadnor alone and came back. I'm sure I'll be fine in Golmore with an entire crew beside me."

He narrows his gaze and opens his mouth to say something, but nothing comes out besides air. She's got him there. The Hyur closes his eyes and lowers his head, slightly leaning into the touch of her hand.

"... Promise me that.. you will return." He murmurs.

"I-- at best, I can promise I'll do everything in my power to," she replies to the request, frowning, "but there's no way I can promise I will, not with how many unknown factors there are, on top of the known risks."

"... That is.. a fair point," he admits before falling silent for a long moment.

A very long moment.

"If you do come back to me..." he softly states, almost shyly, "then... then..."

Her head cants as she murmurs, "Then...what?"

The Bozjan raises his head and opens his eyes to look her directly in the eyes as he states, with conviction, "...I will promise...that we will...marry."

His declaration causes her to blink a lot. Then, her mouth falls open, and for a moment, the troubadour is quite speechless. The best she can do, at first, is nod faintly. Then, her mouth closes, and she leans her forehead against his, biting her lower lip to keep her emotions in check.

"...I'll fight like hell to come back to you, Leth. Promise."

He took one step forward before leaning in to press his forehead against hers. When they are met, Byleth closes his eyes and takes in a deep breath.

"That...is what I wanted to hear. And I promise you...as well, Quil," he states with a soft smile.

She enjoys the moment briefly, shifting to embrace him as she sighs softly.

"...that aside...why were you upset yesterday?" she asks quietly.

The Bozjan embraces her also but would hesitantly answer her question.

"...I was...upset yesterday because...you were claiming to be...a Bozjan Blade." He keeps her in his arm, but he pulls back enough to look at her. "The title of Blade is...not so easily or freely given, Quil."

"Blades are...given a badge of...honour to show that...they are indeed Blades. You...are not a Blade. You do not...have a badge. If the knight had...called you on your bluff and...you could not prove yourself, then we...might not have been able to enter the castle," he explains quietly. "Carrying Talekeeper...isn't enough to persuade others that are...not knowing of Bozjan traditions. No one but us...would understand the weight of both Talekeeper and... Crownsblade."

She blinks several times, frowning a little as she gazes at him.

"It was just a bluff, though I've always been willing to help continue Jeralt's legacy," she explains to him. "But...we really didn't have many options, and I could have glamoured something to look like the badge they carry."

"It's quite possible, with how far out Lucine was, that he doesn't have any idea what all a Blade would have," she adds as she reaches up to gently brush some of his hair out of his face. "I'm sorry if doing such upset you, but I couldn't think of another way they'd let a Garlean commanding a squad in."

"T'was...a bluff that did work in our favour in the end, but 'twas also dangerous if they did not...believe us and instead...attacked us," the Hyur sighs as the Garlean brushes some of his hair out of his face. "I know...that you wish to...honour and continue my father's legacy. I would not have...given you Talekeeper if...I thought otherwise."

"I did not...understand why I was...upset at first, but...I later realized that...I may have...developed...hm, developed...Ah, a sense of.. pride. As a... Bozjan, I suppose. The title that I now carry.. like the one that.. my father also carried..." he states, nodding here and there before adding, "I'm sorry, Quil."

"You...were made a Blade? Officially?" she asks as she blinks, confused. "When?"

He nods in confirmation before answering with, "Before the campaign in Zadnor...there were other Blades of Gunnhildr before we...had arrived to meet my father. In my father's passing...in the betrayal of a resistance member, the remaining Blades were tempered and transformed...into monsters. Or so...I have read in reports. The ranks of the Blades of Gunnhildr...were incredibly low to empty. New Blades...like myself, had to be...recruited during the...Zadnor campaign."

She just stares at him for a long moment.

"Do...they have any idea that I have Talekeeper?" she asks, rather plainly as she starts to get fidgety again. "Are they going to be okay with that?"

"They...do not know that you are in possession of Talekeeper. Talekeeper and Crownsblade were...entrusted to me after...Bozja was liberated, and...I do not know how they will react...to you having it. But...that is not for them to decide," he says with a shake of his head.

Again, she goes quiet and stares at the Bozjan for a long moment.

"...but it's a Blade's weapon...I'd think they'd have some say over it?" she asks, concerned. "I mean, if they get upset, I'm okay with giving it back. If they don't and still need help, I'm willing to do that too. I just don't want you to have this stripped from you over me."

"...Aquila, you...do make some fine points. I find it hard...to protest against what...you are saying, but...It is okay...that you keep using Talekeeper," he insists to her. "If we ever return to Bozja...and meet with the Blades, then we can discuss it with them...about this."

"When I get back from Dalmasca," she suggests to him, smiling softly. "So that no one loses their shit when I'm carrying Talekeeper down the aisle instead of flowers."

He blinks once at that last bit before canting his head slightly. "You'd carry Talekeeper.. because of Jeralt?"

In response, she nods a little. "It's not like my Father's gonna be walking me down the aisle, so Lio and your father should."

"Hmph...Not that we...would allow him to be there.. in the first place," he comments before smiling softly down at her.

There's a nod of agreement to that.

"Yeah. I doubt he'd show up anyways, even if he was invited," she agrees before deprecating, "I am the 'disappointment' after all."

He frowns for a brief moment when she self-deprecates. Then, he would raise one of his hands up to cup the side of her face, and he tells her, "That...is what he may call you... But it is not.. what I see you as. You.. are more valuable and.. precious than you could ever know, Quil."

"I know, Leth," she murmurs in reply, smiling just a little. "Just...in case...always remember that I love you..."

And with that, she gives the Bozjan the most passionate kiss she's ever given him.

"And I love you-" he started to say before he's rudely interrupted with the most passionate kiss he's received yet from the Garlean. A kiss so from out of left-field that it leaves him stunned afterwards.

She lingers in the kiss for a very long time, though there's not much time left before she needs to go - not enough to do more than kiss him. So when she finally withdraws, it's slowly and with hesitance.

He is hesitant to let go of her as well, though he has faith, trust, and her promise that she will return to him...he cannot help but feel, huh.

She's now making him feel again, as she constantly has since introducing him to the concept. Finally, after they both withdraw from the kiss, he says the signature phrase of the Bozjan Blades he's been citing lately.

"For the Queen... Return."

"For the Queen," she echoes, having cited the phrase frequently since receiving Talekeeper, "I shall."