#just found out the deadline for a big final project is much earlier than i initially wrote down

[contraryasichoose]

fuck the fact i’m three years past it, my APUSH teacher should be hunted for sport

[yuuwoo]

the project (c.s) ✉︎

summary ➵ you knew that your project was destined to fail when you were placed on the same team as Choi San. but what if, for once, he was at least a bit determined to finish his work

pairing ➵ san x reader

gerne ➵ co-workers, quick office au!, suggestive hook up, slight powerplay

word count ➵ 1.2k

~

Working in an office has its up and downs. You loved your job, no doubt, but something about organising a big project had you more stressed than ever. And it surely did not help that you had Choi San on your team this time around.

You two weren’t rivals, but in your eyes, the two of you weren’t friends either. While you were working to you best extend, Choi San can always be found playing random games on his computer. He would sit in his chair, hair swept back perfectly, his glasses sitting on the bridge of his nose, perfectly ironed shirt and not give a care in the world about his proper duties.

But what ticked you off the most was, that no matter what project he was ordered to complete, he somehow always made it right to the deadline. And he would get praised for his results. He always got so much praise from your local manager and your other co-workers that it drove you crazy. You would work day and night, only to receive one or two „good job, y/n“, and you wanted to make sure, that this would not happen again with your new project.

But even one week prior to your deadline, you find him leaned back in his chair, yawing as he stares at his screen. You could see that he was doing anything, except working on your project. Your other teammates on the other hand were almost done with their parts as you had already exchanged your results. As you were now sitting in front of your own screen, preparing for the presentation your team has to hold the next week, you could see the window of a new game pop open on Choi`s screen.

You sigh as you reach for a piece of crumbled paper, which you had dismissed earlier. Luckily, San wasn’t sitting that far away from your working space, so you decide to aim and throw the piece of paper against the back of his head.

And your shot hit its target.

San flinched in the slightest bit, making him lose focus on whatever game he was playing. A window with the words „YOU LOST“ popped up on his screen, squeezing a deep grunt out off him. Annoyed, he turns in his chair, staring right at you with a perfectly raised eyebrow.

„You should work on the project, Choi San. I want your research by Friday, if not earlier.“, you say sharply, making him throw back his head. An exaggerated sigh leaves his lips as he once again turns back to his screen, your comment just being ignored.

Straightening your blouse, you set your focus back to your own screen. He may not be able to finish his part, but you would make sure that the rest of the project would turn out as perfect as possible.

~

As the week reaches its end, you decided to stay behind your co-workers for a bit longer, adding some finishing touches to your presentation. The sun had already set on this Friday afternoon as you save your progress for the last time of the day.

Calmly, you lean back deeply into your chair, stretching your arms into the air. Your neck went stiff from staring at the screen for hours and hours on end, but you knew that your hard work would pay off this time. You presentation was scheduled for Monday afternoon, so you still had some time to go over your presentation a few times.

But for today, you had done enough work.

Your gaze lazily wanders across the empty office. All the headlights had already been turned off, leaving you with the dim light of your own desk lamp.

You decided that it was finally time for you to leave for the weekend. But just as you get up and reach for your bag, you spotted something out of the corner of your eyes.

Or rather, spotted someone.

As it seems, you weren’t the only one that decided to stay behind on this day. Choi San was seated at his desk as well. And as you looked closer, you couldn`t believe your eyes. He was actually working on your project.

But just from his side profile and tightly clenched jaw, you could tell that he was not having the greatest time of his life right now.

His normally swept back hair was now messily covering half of his face. He had undone his red tie, unbuttoned the first few buttons of his shirt and rolled up his sleeves, giving you the perfect view of his well toned arms.

His desk light was so dim, that you were asking yourself how he could still read any of his notes. It barely illuminated his workplace, which made it clear to you, why you didn’t notice him any earlier.

After packing your bag and shutting down your computer, you gather all the strength you had left and slowly started walking towards his table. One last check in the reflection of the windows and one swoop to straighten out your skirt, and you had arrived right beside him.

„It doesn’t look like you’re done yet, or even close to being done.“, you say confidently.

A scoff leaves San`s lips as he decides to take his eyes off the screen and settle them on your frame, making a shiver run down your spine. His gaze was so intense, that it made you question, if your decision to bother him was the right thing to do.

„What is it that you want, huh?“, he asks lowly, „Do you want me to fall on my knees and apologise? Tell you how right you were this whole week? That I should have started earlier?“

„Now, that would be a sight to see“, you fight right back, crossing your arms in front of your chest.

You could feel his burning gaze mustering you from top to bottom as he murmurs „I bet you would love that.“

You gulp as you try to avoid his dark eyes, fixating them on his screen.

„I could have helped you if you had only asked earlier“, you say calmly, trying to camouflage the flustered state you found yourself in.

A deep chuckle leaves San`s lips as he turns in his chair, now fully facing you as you stand above him.

„You know“, he barely whispers as he takes the fabric of your skirt in between his fingers, „maybe you’re right.“

A deep blush flushes your face as you revert your eyes back down to him. His eyes were now slowly wandering from his finger, higher, over your blouse until they find your own.

„How about I make you an offer?“, he claims, still staring at you.

You didn’t trust your voice anymore, which makes you raise an eyebrow and tilt your head to the side.

Suddenly, San takes a hand full of your skirt and pulls you closer. You were barely able to catch yourself on the armrests of his chair as you were now hovering only inches in front of his face.

You could feel his steady breath tickle against your lips as you heard his next words.

„How about you stay a bit longer and teach me some of your tricks, miss perfect?“

[nosferatvpussy]

distorted lullabies [chapter XV]

Word count: 5,674

Warnings: vulgar language

Pairing: Dracula x female reader

Not the gif I wanted but I was too lazy to search for longer.

AO3 link

_______________

My ears rang with the grating sound of Judge Llewellyn’s voice projecting inside the courtroom. I glanced at my wristwatch. The session should have been over at 4.30pm but it was now past 5. Through the window closest to me, I could see that the sky had lost its orange clouds amidst light blue in favour of pinks and deep blues. Dracula would start calling me incessantly at any moment now, like he’d done yesterday.

Surreptitiously, I slid a hand on my trousers’ front pocket and grabbed my phone. I eased back on my seat to glimpse the screen from under the table. Jane Grisham’s client – my newest client as of yesterday, actually – huffed at my side but I ignored him; my problem was life or death, his was the possibility of ten years in prison which he well deserved. 

No messages from Count Dracula so far, except the ones from last night. I scrolled up the texts. Odd. I dared bring the phone closer to check if my phone was on airplane mode to justify this but I could see three bars at the top indicating that I had signal.

“Are we boring you, Miss L/N?”

I scrambled into a proper posture as I clicked the phone off and hurriedly put it back in my pocket. My eyes met Judge Llewellyn’s up in his pulpit and I forced an innocent smile at his chiding stare.

“Apologies, my lord. Please proceed.”

The prosecutor, a scrawny old man, raised a contemptuous eyebrow at me before he continued scribbling on a notebook. Llewellyn was nearing the end of the session, going over court dates and times, which was indeed boring, and I knew he would email the details later to make sure nobody made any mistakes, so his speech wasn’t as important as he thought.

I rubbed the corners of my eyes as much as my make up would allow to try and clear the sensation that I had sand in my eyes from lack of sleep. I’d gotten only two hours of sleep – that is, if I combined all the moments I nodded off when shuffling through files, otherwise I wouldn’t say I’d slept at all. I had spent the night staring at the window until sunrise, listening to every minimal sound that could indicate that Count Dracula had found me hiding in Mallory’s guestroom. When Mallory finally woke up earlier that morning, I had already gotten ready for work, stuffed all my things back in my suitcase, made us breakfast and sat down with a cup of untouched tea to mull over what I was going to say to Dracula. By the time Mallory and I left for work, I was confident with my little speech but as the day stretched on and exhaustion settled over me, I doubted that I was capable of many coherent thoughts. Facing Count Dracula when my head was a jumble and I could scarcely keep my eyes open wasn’t ideal but I had no other choice. My ten days were beyond over.

Llewellyn briefly interrupted himself as the courtroom’s door opened with a creak. He regarded whoever had entered the courtroom before resuming. Clicking heels approaching me made me turn my head just in time to see Mallory taking a seat behind me with the audience, a stern look on her face.

Without turning away from the court, I leaned back to give her my ear.

“St Thomas Hospital called me just now, they’re letting Renfield out,” she whispered. My foot bumped into the table as if I had just been shocked by high voltage. My mouth opened and closed. None of what Mallory had just said made sense. She placed a hand on my shoulder. “Dracula vouched for him to leave, he’s one of Renfield’s emergency contacts, apparently. The nurse told me that Dracula called them to say that you will be picking up Renfield after release hours tonight because you’re caught up in court duty. Renfield gave the nurse my number so I could notify you. Y/N, how did Dracula know you’d be in court until late? Is he stalking you?”

My head started spinning from the moment Mallory said Dracula had vouched for Renfied, and I failed to process the rest of what she’d said. 

Was he taunting me because the ten days were up? Was it a threat to Renfield’s life? A threat that he could hurt the people around me because I didn’t abide to his deadline? 

“We’re adjourned,” Llewellyn declared, and I shot up from my seat at once, gathering my things as quickly as I could before striding out of the courtroom with Mallory at my side; my client forgotten.

“Y/N, is he stalking you?” she asked again when we were at the Royal Courts of Justice’s halls.

“I don’t know! Maybe. I wouldn’t put it past him.”

“You can’t keep seeing him if he is.”

“I don’t really have a choice in that matter, Mal,” I scoffed. She grabbed my elbow to make me look at her. Noting her scowl, I continued, “He’s a client, I can’t deny seeing him if he requests.” It wasn’t a lie but wasn’t the proper explanation either.

“Don’t play stupid with me, you know what I meant. Y/N, if he’s dangerous–”

“He is. He is very dangerous but I can deal with him,” I said, forcing my voice to sound strong to make me believe it, too. I untangled myself from Mallory. “I’ve got to go pick up Renfield. Talk to you later, Mal.”

  ______________________________________________________

“Miss? We’re here,” said the cabbie.

By his tone I knew he had said it at least once before and I hadn’t heard him. 

Renfield should be waiting for me inside St Thomas Hospital with his bags packed and a harmless, sane look in his eyes, at least I hoped. Count Dracula could be waiting in there, too, waiting for me to walk right into his arms. If I was smarter and less tired, I would give the cabbie Mallory’s address, but I couldn’t run forever. 

I rubbed my forehead. Exhaustion made it harder to evaluate all the possible consequences if I walked out of the car and into the hospital. 

“Can you wait for me here?” I finally said to the cabbie. “I’m picking up someone and I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

“No problem,” he said, glancing at the taximeter with a small smile in his mouth.

I considered my suitcase in the backseat and left, unconcerned. There wasn’t anything valuable in there to a cabbie, unless he had a secret propensity for crossdressing. 

My legs guided me through the hospital as if I was on autopilot while I cast furtive glances at every corner. More than once my heart sank when I saw a tall silhouette at the end of a hallway until I realised it was too short or too skinny to be Count Dracula.

Breathing was a hard task when I neared the psych ward but it was too late to turn back. People passed me, watery eyes and runny noses as a little girl complained that her dad sounded funny and asked her mother why dad drooled all the time and wouldn’t blink. The mother looked at me and I focused ahead of me, pretending I hadn’t heard any of that. 

Nurse Margaret greeted me with a warm smile when I stopped at the nurse’s station inside the psych ward.

“Wondered if you’d really come. Your fiancée said you were quite busy.”

I raised my eyebrows.

“My what?”

“Your fiancée,” she repeated, enunciating the word clearly like I’d missed it the first time. “He called earlier and said that Mr. Renfield will be getting his treatments from home now and that you’d come tonight to sign his release forms.”

“He’s not my fiancée.”

“Oh. I must’ve heard him wrong, then, but I’m sure he said the word bride…” her gaze was lost in thought for a moment.

“Where do I sign?” I asked with more than a touch of impatience. 

Margaret frowned lightly at my rudeness but retrieved a thin stack of papers from below her desk. Using a pen, she pointed at several paragraphs while she repeated without reading, almost word for word, what was written. Because Renfield had been committed on account of violent behaviour he would have to attend psychotherapy sessions inside St Thomas Hospital and see a psychiatrist every fifteen days – Nurse Margaret informed me that the normal procedure was usually every week but Renfield’s doctor had seen fantastic improvement and decided that fifteen days was more adequate in his case until he was deemed mentally healthy. She showed me where to sign and reminded me at each turn of a page that Renfield would be under my responsibility since I was permitting his release. When I was done signing everything, Margaret left to get Renfield.

Minutes rolled by and I paced around the waiting room like I was a caged beast, peering around corners, breath hitching in my chest whenever I heard a man’s voice. Clicking high heels drew me out to the hallway and I exhaled in relief upon seeing Renfield striding next to Nurse Margaret and a male nurse carrying a box. He was dressed in the very same clothes he had been wearing the morning he attacked me but they were clean and looked a little bigger on his frame than they did before. His glasses slid down his nose as he walked. They were too big for his face but he never wore another pair, even when I gave him new ones on his birthday. I smiled as he pushed them back over the bridge of his nose. Stubborn man. He smiled back.

“Happy to leave?” I asked him. 

“You’ve got no idea,” he replied, and surprised me by planting a kiss to my forehead. I froze for a second. He was usually awkward about physical contact with almost anyone. Therapy must have driven another man to crawl out of him. “You didn’t come visit me last week. How was the wedding?”

“Not great,” I said, staring into his eyes. They didn’t change, so I assumed he didn’t know what had happened. He could also be wearing his courtroom face which was just as good as mine, better even. 

At that, Margaret said her goodbyes with a warm smile and told us that Roger, the slender nurse carrying a cardboard box, would accompany us down with Renfield’s books. I noticed Renfield analysing me as I fidgeted inside my shoes and forced myself to stop. Roger tried to make small talk on the way out but I couldn’t give him more than a few words.

The taxi was parked in the same exact spot as before. The cabbie nodded at me, blowing out smoke before throwing his cigarette to the ground and stomping it. My feet hurt as I hurried towards him and my worry subsided a little. I’d made it. Renfield was out and I hadn’t seen Count Dracula. It wasn’t a trap but I still didn’t understand his true intention by doing so. 

The cabbie opened the door for me and I entered the car, relaxing in my seat to feel the coolness of the window against my forehead. Roger placed the box next to me so when Renfield took a seat, it laid between us.

“Why am I out?” Renfield asked in the short pause it took for the cabbie to close our door and round the car towards the driver’s seat.

I stared at him.

“If you don’t know, what makes you think I would?”

“You’re his brid–” Renfield cut the word short when the cabbie threw himself behind the wheel. He leaned forward and gave the cabbie his address. When he spoke to me again, his voice was low over the sound of the car’s engine. “From my experience, the Count isn’t particularly kind and I know he would never do this for me, especially after my little outburst. There must be a reason for this benevolence.”

“At the wedding he said that you could have some of his things shipped from Romania to London. Maybe he has need of them now.”

Renfield gave me a lopsided smile. It was usually the smile he reserved for cross examining witnesses. A venomous snake just before it struck.

“The wedding. Something happened there, didn’t it?” He inquired. I chose to look out of the window instead of facing him. “You won’t look at me, which means I’m right. Please tell me you were smart enough to listen to what I told you.”

Surrender with arms wide open or he’ll hurt you and those around you. Listen to me. He will. 

I surrendered but not fast enough. Not fast enough to take back everything I had done.

“I really should have listened to you,” I confessed. “He did exactly what you said he would.”

“Even though he’s lived a long time, patience isn’t one of his virtues, Y/N.”

“It wasn’t lack of patience,” I muttered. “Actually, he’s been nothing if not patient with me. I went behind his back and it blew up in my face, and you don’t need to chastise me about it. I’ve got enough guilt as it is.”

“What did he do?”

A weird question from him. Finally, I met his eyes again and was surprised to find that I knew the man behind them. 

“Mallory,” I said as a means of explanation. There wasn’t much we could say with the cabbie listening. “She’s okay, though.”

“So are you,” Renfield said as he extended a hand and brushed my hair away from my neck. 

“For now. I owe him an explanation, which I was supposed to give it to him yesterday but work happened. I’m not sure how he’ll–” I regarded Renfield for the second time that night. “You’re worried about me?”

“Of course I am.” He frowned, seemingly offended that I had to ask. “I wear glasses but I’m not completely blind. You haven’t been sleeping,” he said as he tapped under his eye. Covering my dark circles with a decent amount of concealer obviously didn’t disguise it enough. “And you were fidgeting inside the hospital because you were afraid of encountering Count Dracula. Cowardice is a horrible look on you, Y/N.”

“You haven’t asked me what I did to Dracula.”

“It mustn’t have been good to drive him towards Mallory. And why should it matter what you did to him? It’s no excuse.”

“Oh, my god,” I murmured, staring at him in shock as I pieced it together. The kiss to the forehead, his concern, the completely sane look to his eyes... 

“What? Did you think I’d defend him if he hurt you?”

“He released you,” I said. Renfield’s frown deepened as he looked from me to the hospital like I had just stated the obvious. “He released you from him,” I spoke quietly so the cabbie wouldn’t hear it but Renfield did. His face paled until it was stark white in the car’s low light. 

“No…”

“Would you ever speak of him this way if he hadn’t?”

He shook his head.

Letting Renfield out of the hospital wasn’t a threat or a ploy to get me. It was a gift.  However dim the possibility, my brain latched on to the idea that it wasn’t simply a gift, but an apology. Being merciful wasn’t at all like Dracula. It wouldn’t fix what he had done but it was something. If he had freed Renfield out of the goodness of his heart or if he had done it for ulterior motives, it didn’t really matter. I had begged for Renfield and offered myself up in exchange and Dracula had dismissed my attempts. Before, he had never cared how much that hurt me. And now this; an abrupt kindness to make up for his deeds. 

“He wouldn’t– no,” Renfield grumbled. “Why– he, he can’t… he can’t do this to me. I’ll be alone.”

“You’ll have me,” I retorted.

“No, you’re his. I know you are. It’s in your eyes, and you want it, too. You’ll be like him and who will I be, hm?” His voice was thin but carried the weight of restrained emotion. “Nobody, I’ll be nobody. In a few years the both of you won’t even remember me.”

To my horror, twin tears streamed down his face. 

Dracula had called him weak once, and suddenly I understood why he could see Renfield like that. Renfield himself had said that he didn't exist without Count Dracula but I’d deduced he had been made to believe that as a slave. His weeping told of an abandonment I couldn’t understand, and hoped never would. As much as I dreaded the idea, some people can only fathom existence if they have a leash around their neck to guide them. Sometimes the leash is religion or politics, and least often it is a centuries old vampire. It comforted Renfield, I supposed, this feeling of unquestionable certainty, and to have that teared away debased him. 

Revulsion wrapped its claws around my ankles until it creeped up to my face in a scowl. It wasn’t Renfield’s fault that this world had made him like this and I shouldn’t blame him for wanting direction under a tight fist of a warlord, and yet I found that an ugly part of me despised him for it. Did that mean I shared something in common with Count Dracula? One of his defects? 

“It’ll pass,” I told Renfield, looking out the window. “You’ll find your footing again soon. And no matter what you think or what happens, I’ll remember you.”

Despite his desolation, I was glad that he was back to himself. If it made me selfish, so be it. Although I wasn’t sure I was more pleased that Renfield was himself again or that Dracula had done it for me. 

When we arrived at Renfield’s flat in Chelsea, he refused any help to carry his belongings out of the car, so he stumbled out with the cardboard box and his small suitcase. At my request, the cabbie waited until I was sure Renfield was safe inside his building and then I gave him my address. 

I fished my phone from my purse and skimmed through my texts. Still none from Dracula. My fingers started typing before I could really think about what I was doing.

  _____________________________________________________

Count Dracula knocked briefly on Lucy’s balcony door before opening it. She had been lying on her stomach, texting someone, but turned around to greet him with a kittenish grin. The bed’s covers were instantly thrown away with a swift movement to expose her legs. 

“Finally! I thought you were giving up on me,” she exclaimed, rising on the bed to stand on her knees. He allowed her to pull him closer by his jacket’s lapels but when she neared his lips, he turned his face slightly to the side and she kissed only the corner of his mouth. “Nobody ignores my texts, you know.”

“Alas, I did”– he raised an eyebrow– “but you were begging for me and I had to come to put an end to it.”

That elicited another grin from her. A few days ago he would have found it charming, it was odd that it didn’t get a reaction out of him now. He hadn’t spent time with Lucy ever since before the wedding, so maybe that’s all he needed to warm up to her again – time. 

“Tell me you’re taking me out tonight,” she goaded, pouting.

“Don’t you have class tomorrow morning?”

“Yes but–”

“Then no.” He pushed her back on the bed and she fell with a laugh. “I’d rather do this,” he murmured as he climbed on top of her. 

She wriggled under him, doing her best to incite him as she rubbed her neck near his mouth, her hips twisting in need as her legs wrapped about his waist to brush up against him. He let her touch him, and he waited for desire to rise. She whined when he didn’t respond to her advances. 

Nothing stirred in him. He rolled off of her, throwing an arm over his face. His arm was lifted not a second later and he glanced at Lucy as she wrapped it around herself to snuggle up to his chest. He patted her shoulder, gazing up at the star pattern stamped on Lucy’s ceiling. Releasing Renfield should appease Y/N, which is what he wanted, but so far there was no news from her. He couldn’t stay in his home pacing around as he waited for a call. And then Lucy’s text had arrived and he decided it was better to go distract himself. No use so far.

“Did you have fun on your trip?” She asked him softly.

“Up to a point.”

“Did you miss me?”

“No, not really,” he said. Lucy chuckled, as she always did whenever he was too serious. He wasn’t sure if she interpreted his seriousness as a joke or if she laughed it off because she didn’t know how to react. 

“But you’re here,” she continued.

“It seems so, yes.”

He could tell that she wanted him to say that he had missed her but he wouldn’t lie. If she was hurt, then it was for the best. 

Lucy quickly maneuvered herself so she could straddle him. His hands automatically went to her thighs as she settled in a comfortable position. 

“Okay, so you didn’t come here to talk or to take me out.” Lowering her body over his, she popped a button on his shirt. Then another. “We can do other stuff, more interesting stuff…” Another button opened and she splayed her hands on his chest, stroking his skin. She moved her hips back and forth over his and his body stirred in response. Ah, so he wasn’t completely immune to her, it seemed. When she leaned in to kiss him, he let her. He breathed in her scent, and the charm was broken as swiftly as it had begun. It wasn’t the smell of honey he so longed for. “You’re being weird,” Lucy mumbled against his lips before pulling back to observe him.

Shutting his eyes, he forced himself to relax, concentrating on wiping Y/N’s scent from his brain. He covered Lucy’s hands with his own when he felt a tug on another button. Her fingers persisted but a light squeeze on them made her stop.

“How come?” 

“It’s fine if you don’t want to fuck because god knows all you want to do is drink me but you’re barely touching me, and usually you can’t keep your hands to yourself.” She wiggled her hips. “You’re not even hard, and I’m really trying here, Drac.” He laughed at her pout. She had never looked so offended since he’d met her and he had said things to her that would make anyone’s blood curdle. “It’s not funny. I was right that time, wasn’t I? You really don’t want me anymore.”

He opened his mouth to answer her, then his phone vibrated in his pocket, and froze. Lucy narrowed her eyes at him and glanced at the lit screen shining through the fabric of his trousers. She plucked his phone out, swatting his hands away when he tried to take it from her, and pushed off of his lap. He gripped thin air when she scooted out of the bed. He clenched his jaw. Lucy’s bratty behaviour was something he had learnt to enjoy but he didn’t find anything fun about it now.

“Give it to me, Lucy,” he said, holding out a hand as he sat. She bit her lip and shook her head to the sides as the phone lit her face from beneath. “Fine, then. Read the message aloud, please.”

“ I’m heading home now if you want to talk. And thank you. ” She read, making a face. “Who’s Y/N?”

Dracula grinned. A thank you from her was enough to bring him contentment, more than Lucy’s playful nature ever would. That boy from the pub, Trent, was apparently correct in saying that doing something nice for her might draw her out. If Dracula knew the outcome would be so perfect, he would have spared him for that alone. 

“My lawyer,” he said, his grin widening. “Give it back to me, Lucy.”

She placed the phone in his palm with an eye roll before sprawling on the bed again.

“Is she the reason why you’re leaving me?”

“How could I leave you if we weren’t together to begin with?”

“Ouch.”

“I swore I’d be sincere with you from the start, and I also told you this wouldn’t become a relationship. Save your ‘ouch’,” he told her, smirking. 

Taking advantage that Lucy appeared momentarily distracted by his words, he opened his texts. Beneath Y/N’s text, there was an opened one from Chelsea. He deleted it without reading it. She’d given him her number yesterday and while he thought to discard it, he was glad he hadn’t. After all, it was useful so he could find out when Y/N would be leaving work and Chelsea, appealing to gain his attention, had kindly provided the information that Y/N would be busy with court until late. It gave him a small window to call the hospital until the message reached her that Renfield was being released. Cutting the servitude ties to Renfield was as simple as closing a door. It opened another so he could make his way back to Y/N.

A sniffle drew his attention up as he was typing. Lucy turned her face toward him from where she lied, batting wet eyelashes at him.

“Lucy… Crying over me?” He smiled. “Didn’t you tell me you couldn’t get your heart broken and that you would be the one doing the heart breaking?”

“I’m crying because I never thought someone would reject me.” She huffed, and he laughed again, earning him a light, playful smack on the shoulder. “It’s sort of absurd.”

“You’re irredeemably spoiled.”

“I know.” She wiped the tears before crawling into his lap and pushing his arms away so she could fit between them. His phone was cast somewhere among her pillows. Lucy’s curls bounced as she settled on top of him and he smoothed them, being careful not to accidentally pull one. The time he’d done that, Lucy had made his ears ring from complaining so much. “But you like me anyway?” He simply nodded. “Hm. Can I meet her?”

“What?” He asked, as if his hearing had failed for the first time in centuries.

“Can I meet Y/N?”

“Why?”

“I want to see what I’m up against.”

“It’s not a competition, Lucy–”

“Okay. But what if–” she gave him a malicious smile “–c’mon, imagine… If I like her too, then maybe the three of us–”

“Lucy–”

“No, hear me out. It’s actually brilliant, and it’d be fun. I’ve never done anything like it. And if you make her a vampire too–”

“Lucy, stop.” He shook her lightly, making her furrow her eyebrows. “It could be fun, yes. Terribly fun, actually,” he said as he considered the image Lucy’s suggestion conjured. “But it’s not happening. None of it.”

“None of it?” She repeated. 

“None, dear,” he asserted. A smile struggled on the corners of his mouth. He had come to see Lucy for one reason but now he wondered his true motivation. Had he known what he was doing, subconsciously? “I won’t come to see you anymore.”

She gaped.

“You’re going to let me wither and die, aren’t you?” she accused.

He chuckled, tilting his head.

“I trust you’ll find some inventive way to kill yourself before you reach old age.”

“You are my inventive way! You promised me eternal life, that I’d pretty forever–”

“Lucy…” he grabbed her jaw to make her stop talking and she whined, although her eyes twinkled slightly at his bruteness. “I really don’t care. I’ve made my decision.”

Tears appeared on her eyes.

“Oh, please, stop with the crying,” he requested, cupping her cheek so a thumb could catch a fat tear before it spilled. He licked it, savouring the salt of her hurt. “I’ve had to deal with vast amounts of it lately and I don’t deserve your tears. They won’t get you anywhere with me.” He sighed. “I don’t want you anymore, Lucy, but it has nothing to do with you. I’ve simply found what I was looking for in someone else. And in her alone.” He smiled. “Y/N is my perfect fruit.”

“You don’t have to be mean,” she grumbled. 

“You’ve never seen me being mean. I realise now that I said the same words to you once and I thought them to be true at the time but not anymore. I don’t regret our time together, Lucy, and I’ll enjoy remembering it years from now. This is goodbye.”

Delicately, he started pushing her out of his lap but she grappled on to him. If she continued being a brat he might have to pry her hands away. When he gazed into her eyes he glimpsed in them an unforeseen sobriety. He hadn’t thought she was capable of it. 

“You won’t make me a vampire. I don’t want to grow old, and I won’t, so before you leave me, will you give me death? A sweet, tragic death that will make people wail at my funeral and say “oh poor Lucy, gone so soon”? Pretty, pretty please?”

“Vain until your last moments, aren’t you, Lucy?”

“Always,” she proclaimed with a proud tilt of her chin. “Give me at least that if you’re going to dump me. What’s there to live for anyway?”

Dark eyes studied her face as he inhaled her scent. There was no fear tainting his senses. Lucy never feared anything from him which was what had drawn him to her at first, yet it wasn’t powerful enough to hold his interest. She didn’t want more out of life except for death. In that sense, Y/N and Lucy were entirely opposites. One couldn’t live forever if life’s eternal paths didn’t interest them; at least Y/N searched for something worth living for. 

“Are you serious?” He  asked, raising an eyebrow. She nodded solemnly. “Death is not a caprice. You can’t take it back, Lucy. If this is your last hope that I’ll keep you, that I’ll suddenly change my mind at the last second, then you underestimate me.”

“I’m dead serious,” she said, widening her eyes at her own joke. Dracula’s expression didn’t change. “I am, Drac. And why do you care?”

“I don’t.”

“Then do it,” she urged before brushing her hair away and exposing her neck to him.

Scars marked her neck and he bent forward instinctively, like it beckoned him closer. Lucy leaned in, her tiny chest heaving next to his, and he enveloped her in a tight embrace. Choosing to kill Lucy would leave only Y/N in his path, by doing it he would kill yet another bride, the one he was most certain would survive the metamorphosis. However glorious was that possibility there was nothing about Lucy that would make him want her as a companion. 

“As a last courtesy…” he whispered, laying his lips on a vein. Her pulse accelerated and the vein jumped, coaxing him to take it cautiously between his teeth. “Lucy, my darkling… I’ll be your easeful Death.” He smiled at his own quotation but she didn’t seem to quite catch it. Y/N would have understood it. She stimulated everything in him, and managed to ignite parts of him that had been long forgotten. He hungered for her like he hungered for blood. What did Lucy do to him? Nothing, nothing, nothing. 

His teeth cut through her and she slumped, melting into him. The taste of her blood was familiar and did not sing to him as it once did. He devoured her methodically. A flavorless drink, like an alcoholic’s bottle of choice. She didn’t move once, not even when death’s spasms should have seized her body.

Once she grew cold, utterly depleted of blood, he laid her on the bed, arranged the covers around her and fluffed the pillows. After considering it, he closed her eyes with the tips of his fingers and fixed the crown of curls about her head. Her dainty lips were slightly parted in her pout. A pretty picture for her mother to find – sweet and tragic, like Lucy had asked. He admired her for a moment and nodded in approval. It had been fun and if she wanted death, it was only right that he gave it to her.

Dracula’s shirt clung to the sides of his chest, dampened by the little blood that had escaped his mouth. He considered the dark swirls of hair on his chest muddled by red liquid; a shower was in order when he got home. His shirt made a muffled, wet sound as he buttoned it up.

His phone rested near Lucy’s shoulder. The screen was smeared with red but it was no trouble seeing through it as he opened Y/N’s message again. 

It would be late at night until he made himself presentable to her, and she would be tired until then. Killing a bride in favour of another also occupied his mind more than he expected. Y/N had ensnared him, completely. He was used to it being the other way around. He had given her time and in that time he had done nothing but kill to cleanse himself from her. It hadn’t worked. Perhaps it was time he did some reflection of his own, before they met again.

 Truce for now, we meet tomorrow. You’re welcome.

“She’s making me soft,” he muttered to himself. He eyed Lucy and rose an eyebrow. “Wouldn’t you say so, dear?”

 .

.

.

A/N: Writing this chapter was a struggle, especially the last scene. Once again, not the right mindset for it in my opinion. For those who aren't familiar with what Dracula quotes, it's from Ode to a Nightingale by John Keats. As a treat, I'll let you all know that they'll be reunited in the next chapter... and that's all I'll say about that.

@festering-queen​ @feralstare​ @rheabalaur​ @a-dorky-book-keeper​ @thorin-smokin-shield​ @dreamer2381​ @deborahlazaroff​ @illbegoinhome​ @saint-hardy​ @girlonfireice​ @mr-kisskiss-bangbang​ @iwasjustablur​ @crossoverqueen89​ @vampirescurse​ @blue-serendipity​ @sunscreenfeverdream​ @25ocurer​ @daydreaming136​ @hello-itsbarbie​ @princessayveke​ 

[chaolie]

Fundywastaken week, Day 5 - Fireworks

Yet another day of participating in @fundyfiles' fwt week! This chapter has a big time skip basically in the middle because I love stories that show how everything changes with time. So now you "have" to read that too, and you can also do so on my Ao3!

Characters: Fundy, Dream

Words: ~1.4k

Dream silently watched the walls of L’Manburg, sticking to the treeline to make sure no one would see him. There were people patrolling around, he could see their torches from miles away, and he was starting to lose faith that Fundy would come to meet him that night. It wouldn’t be the first time either, but they both knew that it was out of the fox hybrid’s control. Being Wilbur’s son, there were days his father or his father’s people would keep an eye on him for a bit too long, making it impossible to sneak out for a secret meeting. Being his own ruler, in a way, Dream didn’t face the same issue, but he could understand it whenever his boyfriend had to deal with that.

Just as he was contemplating turning back and going home, he heard something go off inside the walls. It didn’t sound like TNT, but must’ve been an explosion of sorts… oh no. Did his people attack without his orders? Oh, this was terrible- The citizens previously patrolling the walls all disappeared on the other side of them, presumably to help with whatever was happening, when some more explosions sounded out.

While listening to the people inside call for each other and deal with whatever was causing the sounds, Dream seriously contemplated running in there, too. If he covered his face with something else than his mask and found a cape or something, maybe they wouldn’t recognize him? So he could check if Fundy was okay? Oh, but if they did-

“Hey!” came a greeting in a hushed tone. The man turned and saw his boyfriend sneaking over, quickly using the trees as a cover for himself.

“...You’re okay,” Dream breathed out a sigh of relief. “Oh, I got so worried! Do you know what caused the explosions?” he asked.

“Hm… Do I…” Fundy hummed, and the man noticed a little mischievous glint in his eyes.

“What did you blow up?”

“Nothing! Nothing blew up!” the fox hybrid assured quickly, raising his hands in a defensive gesture.

“Okay. Then what happened?” Dream asked. Fundy glanced between the man and the walls of L’Manburg before finally turning his gaze to the forest.

“Can we walk?” he asked, and Dream nodded a short confirmation before the two got on their way. “So… You know how sometimes I miss meeting with you because it’s too quiet and I can’t sneak away?” he started.

“Yeah, that happens,” Dream confirmed.

“Yeah! And it’s annoying! So I thought about it, and I came up with a good solution! Just a few little fireworks here and there, and… boom! Enough commotion for me to get away! And when I’m back, I can say I got scared and hid somewhere!” he explained his idea. Oh.

“So those were fireworks?” Dream asked, and his boyfriend confirmed with a nod. Well, that made a lot of sense. Not quite TNT, but still loud. “Smart,” he complimented finally.

“Thanks! And, uh, sorry for worrying you with them. I probably should’ve told you about this before, but I wasn’t sure if it’d work,” Fundy explained, but Dream wasn't upset even before the apology.

“It’s alright. I’m glad you could join me tonight,” he answered, and Fundy smiled at that. “Should I get some gunpowder for you when we meet again?” he offered.

“Oh, please do! I promise not to weaponize it as TNT,” the fox hybrid smiled sweetly, and Dream sighed.

“Should I get some rockets for you when we meet again?” he made another offer, and Fundy snickered.

“If it makes you feel better,” he shrugged.

Dream still started to give him some gunpowder every opportunity he got.

***

Walking down the prime path was always a good feeling, but doing so this evening was truly delightful. With the anniversary of the war officially ending just around the corner, the decorations finally started to pop up all around the road, serving as a reminder of peace. There were flags hanging from almost every building, invitations to celebration parties, and some people even put out food they made just to cheer everyone else up.

All those little things were enough of a change to catch Fundy’s eye even if he was in the middle of excitedly running down the path and dragging Dream right behind him. Unluckily, he was too much in a rush to comment on them anyway. Well, ‘rush’ might’ve been the wrong term to describe him, there was no deadline he was racing with, no danger he was running from… But there was a destination he wanted to reach soon. Just earlier that day, he finally finished his little project and he wanted Dream to see it so badly. And it was dark already!

“So, where are we going again?” the man asked when the fox hybrid took a turn and left the prime path behind. Fundy looked at him and grinned.

“We’re almost there,” he assured. Initially, Dream nodded and even tried to speed up.

“Wait, that doesn’t really answer the question,” he pointed out after a moment, and Fundy laughed quietly before slowing down.

“Fine, fine… Just a bit further into this field,” he answered, pointing forward. And sure enough, there was a big, open plain in front of them. “The rest is a surprise.”

“Alright,” the man nodded again, and the two continued running. Yet just a couple of minutes later, Fundy finally came to a full stop.

“You can wait here,” he said, allowing his own hand to slip off of Dream’s. “Take a seat, get comfortable, and give me a second.”

“Sure?” the masked man said before sitting down. With curiosity, he watched Fundy walk further for a moment before kneeling down in the grass and doing something.

Fundy’s hand lingered above the lever hidden by the plants growing around it. Pulling those like this one usually filled him with guilt and was something he dreaded. It would always make him wonder, was this considered sabotage? Would others consider him a traitor if they knew? Tonight, however, putting his hand over the lever made his heart feel lighter and pushed a smile onto his face. Ah, how fast the times changed.

He pulled on it and immediately got to his feet, running over to where Dream was waiting and almost falling at the final stretch. Still, he managed to keep his balance and ‘gracefully’ sit down by his boyfriend’s side. The man snickered briefly, but stopped himself from commenting on Fundy’s slip.

“So?” he asked finally, and Fundy pointed at the spot he just returned from.

“Look over there,” he answered, and the man did what he was told to. Nothing happened. “...Come on, it’s not broken, is it?” he muttered to himself.

Just then, a single firework shot up into the sky with a long whoosh before finally exploding brightly with colours. Instantly, Fundy’s grin returned to his face and he let out a quiet “Yes!”, it worked! Then, another firework appeared, once again lighting up the night sky and assuring him that the redstone circuit wasn’t flawed either. Dream stared at where the last explosion happened in total awe.

“...Fireworks?” he muttered finally, and Fundy nodded.

“Yeah! Oh, this took ages to set up!” he exclaimed as more and more colorful explosions appeared in the sky. Despite still looking up, Dream had no trouble finding the fox hybrid’s hand and squeezing it gently.

“You did amazing,” he complimented, causing a sheepish grin to appear on Fundy’s face.

“Thanks!” he answered. After that, there came over a minute of watching the fireworks in comfortable silence.

“...Where’d you even get enough gunpowder for all these?” Dream asked finally, and Fundy turned to look at him.

“That’s a funny story, actually,” he answered. “I’m pretty sure you supplied most of it? Like, a year ago. I wasn’t sure what to do with the stacks I didn’t use, and, well… I figured this could be fun?” he explained.

“Oh? Well- I’m glad it’s still useful!” Dream nodded, still admiring his boyfriend’s work.

It was… strangely poetic. The fireworks they once used as a distraction, the gunpowder meant to grant them just enough cover to meet, now lighting up the sky with colorful explosions, making their presence obvious for miles and miles. And just a year later, they didn’t have to worry about that. Everyone knew they were dating anyway, they didn’t have to sneak around anymore. And if they ever dared to doubt that, those beautiful explosions were there to remind them - it was okay. Times were better.

[calicorn]

My experience with WeLoveFine/ForFansByFans as an artist.

This in regards to the Act 6/7 Tarot Project, which occurred from 2017 to 2018. I also want to thank @aryll for the chance to participate in such a project, and thank you for doing what you could with the group and what occurred. I realize this is a few years late, however, but it’s been bothering me ever since it occurred, and I only chose to speak my mind about it. But to summarize, the project started out as unofficial, however we were approached by FFBF in February of 2018. They were willing to sell the deck as official merchandise on their store. I have my own opinions on the company, as it’s known they underpay artists severely for their work despite selling most items for extremely high prices. A similar payment issue occurred with the Official Homestuck Zine, and one of the artists of the Tarot Project posted this in the comments:     “Can relate OP. I did work for the new tarot deck (using my throwaway account for that reason lol) but we aren’t being paid at all. No money. The only compensation we are getting is a free deck and an exclusive enamel pin which is pennies compared to what they’ll be making off us. One might argue that the project wasn’t supposed to be printed so I should be grateful it’s even happening but I expected a big company like WLF to y’know, pay artists... The only reason I agreed to letting them use my art was to get a free deck. I also honestly dislike WLF’s artist compensation policy. My art has been selected from the Fan Forge before and the idea of being able to sell my HS art was so appealing, but the execution is so poor. They don’t pay us until we sell $100 worth of shirts, but that is so difficult in a market that is so oversaturated. I wish they like, cycled designs in and out. Instead, they just keep adding more and more designs, drowning out old ones and just flooding the entire market. Plus, they get to withhold money from artists until every hundred-dollar mark. I can’t imagine how much they’ve made off of small time artists that get their design accepted and sell maybe 3 shirts since it happens so often.” So. What exactly happened? I’ll explain under the cut given there’s a decent amount to go through. Though to summarize; WeLoveFine/ForFansByFans is an extremely egregious company that does not value their artists whatsoever and will do what they can to pay them as little as possible. Please support said artists on sites that actually do give them fair pay, or support them via commissions.

There were a few bumps during the tarot project, though overall it went extremely smoothly and we released our art to the Tumblr blog. FFBF approached us during this time, and we were all given the option to agree to continue working or the project or decline. However, this is what was an important piece to the initial email sent out by the Tarot Project team;      • Each participating artist will get a full finalized copy of the deck, COMPLETELY free. This includes packaging and free shipping of the deck.      • Each participating artist will get an enamel pin commemorating the project, EXCLUSIVE to the artists of this project only, with a custom design as chosen/designed by us. What will most likely occur is that everyone who wishes to submit a design for the pin can do so, and as a group, we will vote on which one we would like to submit as our final design choice!     • Each participating artist will receive FULL COMMISSION on any further usage of their artwork by What Pumpkin or For Fans By Fans. For example, if they release a mini-print, wallet, etc. with your design on it, you will be paid in commission for the usage of your work. (If you have ANY questions about how this would work, please don’t hesitate to ask and I will hook you up ASAP with a For fans By Fans representative who can go over the details with you further.)     • Each participating artist will have a window in which they will be able to make updates or revisions to their illustration(s) before the project is released. This means that if something is bugging you about your work, or you feel that it does not reflect your current level of skill, you will be allowed to resubmit a new version before the project officially goes up as merchandise! So, the majority of us agreed to continue forward with the project and retouch our cards. From there, things continued, and we were emailed by a FFBF representative on occasion to discuss how the process went, as well as various other things that required discussion, plus asked to assist in the promotion of the 4/13/18 celebration on their website. This is where the issues began and would continue through the entire project, with it still being seen post-release of the cards. We were sent an email in April of 2018 requiring information to be provided in the  accompanying booklet of the deck, as well as being asked to answer various interview questions that would be posted to FFBF’s Tumblr, and most importantly; the Commission Agreement form. So what did it entail? This was the form I was sent. My interview was never posted. I have looked multiple times and never seen evidence it ever was, either. And this was also included in the email;    • We are going to be hosting a pre-order bonus promotion surrounding the new tarot set, starting 413. Anyone who pre-orders the set will be entered into a drawing to win a commissioned art piece from a random artist who worked on the tarot. You will be paid by us, FFBF, for this commission work in the amount of $50.  So we had to draw more art with a very close deadline date to obtain a payment  for art we had already created, both of which should have easily been worth more than $50 total. I signed without thinking, which looking back on, was incredibly idiotic, despite my own worries over the fact that even at the time, $50 did not seem like a lot. Progress continued. An exclusive pin was designed and created for the artists, though the production and delivery dates would be delayed to September of 2018. During this time, we were also invited to join FFBF’s Discord server as well, which I am still in, though am not active in. And eventually, we were provided a Commission Schedule. I do not know if I’m missing an email between the enamel pin shipment and this schedule post, however I cannot find any trace of it. This is the Commission Schedule email, and what it consists of. Of course I found it strange, because looking at the schedule, I could never find any sign of myself having been added. Obviously I should have replied then and there due to that, but I didn’t, and that is my own fault. But that rolled into October of 2018, when I did finally email back and asked about why I hadn’t been added. I was sent back this; “Hi Calicorn! I’m sorry I misinterpreted your response as not wanting to proceed:“3)  I am completely willing to sign up for being one of the artists for the commission raffle event, though I must say $50 would be underpaying considering most artists’ base prices for commissions tend to be $50 or more.” Then I sent “If you do not want to be part of the give-away, that’s totally ok. We are offering $50 for these commissions but if that price is not within your comfort, there’s no pressure!” You never came back with anything so I didn’t want to proceed since it seemed like you were uncomfortable with the amount we were offering – I’m really sorry if I misunderstood! The giveaway is actually over I’m sorry to say but I appreciate you following up about this. I wonder why the message went into spam.. Please let me know if there is anything else I can do for you Thanks!” And one of the most glaring issues popped up in October as well. When we finally received our decks in the mail, our project’s Discord group began to discuss the fact that our emails had been printed in the pamphlet without our permission. Mind you, this was also a project that included minors in it, and our emails had now been given away without our knowledge. Another issue with the pamphlets is the fact that FFBF had reused the same text from the Homestuck Kickstarter Tarot Deck, as seen on the New Booklet/Old Booklet, and here/here. FFBF then decided to remove the booklet from every outgoing tarot that gets ordered, with customers receiving a corrected digital PDF that was coordinated in its creation by Aryll. And apparently previous customers would receive this PDF via emails, as well as a link to download it on the product page. Thankfully FFBF seemed to have at least posted the PDF on the product page, however this seems extremely lazy compared to simply including the newly reprinted booklet. Though this may not be the last of issues, as I stumbled across the Amazon product page for our tarot deck earlier before typing this all up. To say the least, it is extremely infuriating, especially given the quality of the cards and how many people of complained about them on both Amazon and FFBF’s websites. Of course we, the artists, were never alerted to this development, nor were we paid for such.

But overall, we were hardly paid for our time and effort during this project, which is a massive disappointment, but perhaps that much should have been expected from WeloveFine/ForFansByFans, who are notorious for underpaying artists and overpricing products. Their actions are inexcusable, and I am still both disappointed and furious with this company as a whole. But thank you for reading, and please spread the word, as I do not want FFBF’s actions to go unnoticed.

[hystericalweenie]

Just Another Day at the Office Series - New On the Job

George MacKay x Reader Series

Part One: The Beginning

Masterlist

Summary: Y/f/n Y/l/n was job searching, looking for a new place to work as an escape to her, then, current job; she’d been denied every pitch she had, yet she worked her ass off with zero recognition. Writing was her passion and her dream job laid in the hands of a magazine company in the city. Will the combination of her sexual frustration and her competitive nature cause her to risk her biggest dream for a blue eyed coworker?

a/n: I have absolutely no personal experience in magazine/journalism career, so the information in this fic will be provided with the knowledge I have conducted from research. With that being said, please don’t be mad if this is not accurate!!! 

Warnings: This is a slow burn fic, their relationship won’t happen in one night, so if you’re not into that, check out some of the beautifully written imagines that you can most likely find under the george mackayxreader tag. I might eventually write some of my own too :P At least one person’s saying “fuck” and there’s some sexual! tension! up! in! here!

I flattened my skirt with nervous hands in which had already clammed up with excitement. The day had finally come where I’d start my new job as print journalist at Essence, a small but ever-growing lifestyle magazine company. My heels clacked against the wood floor as I quietly greeted the receptionist before making my way into the elevator. Pressing the button with my knuckle and waiting for the doors to open, I found myself playing with the ruffled sleeves of my blouse, seeking something to pass the inevitable time in which my impatience could not handle. Once the doors had opened, I quickly slid inside—pressing the third floor button almost immediately—before taking this intermission as a chance to double-check my appearance.

I used the front camera on my phone as a mirror, as I played with my hair, making sure it fell in the same loose waves I had styled before I left my apartment that morning. I also made sure the subtle lip stain that tinted my lips was still in tact as well, making me smile in content at my reflection before putting my phone away in my purse as the elevator doors opened again, revealing my arrival to my destination. I took a left, approaching Lauren Sawyer’s office, the CEO of the company, just like I’d done for my interview. Although the rollercoaster-falling feeling in my stomach was similar to the feeling I’d had during the interview, this was a different kind of excitement; now, I actually had the job. With three knocks to her wooden door and a few seconds of the somehow-intimidating door staring back at me, she swung the door opened and smiled in realization of my presence.

“Y/n, welcome to the office!” she greeted me proudly, holding her hand out to shake.

“Officially this time,” I added with a toothy smile, grabbing her hand to reciprocate her firm shake.

“I cannot wait to show you your new desk and give you an official tour of the building!” She gushed, exiting her office and heading straight down the minute hallway to the right of the elevator, which then opened up to a wide room with multiple rows of desks.

The left wall had exposed brick with huge windows lining the whole thing, looking out to the busy streets of New York. The entire room was filled with the sounds of people typing on their keyboards, but it was the perfect welcoming for my writer’s soul.

“I want you to meet a few people before we get started,” she informed me, leading me up past rows and rows of people, taking turns staring at their computer screens and keyboards back and forth with focus written on their facial features.

She walked in between rows of people working and typing away, some looking up from their screens and glancing at the new presence. The rows consisted of tables large enough to fit about three people on each side, facing towards each other with their computers dividing them. She finally came to a stop to a woman in a floral dress and short ginger hair. She had big, black headphones sitting on her head as she stared at the screen in front of her while she typed quickly. As she finally noticed Lauren and I, she quickly grasped the headphones and tore them off of her head, a blush spreading across her cheeks.

“Sorry, I didn’t even see you guys,” she apologized with a soft voice.

“No need to apologize for being focused,” Lauren gleamed at her. She gestured her arm out to me. “This is Y/n, she’s a new print journalist.”

I stuck my hand out, which the girl gladly took into her own with a gentle shake. She looked young, looking about my age, maybe even younger.

“I’m Faith,” she introduced, before returning her delicate hand to her lap.

“Faith is another one of our print journalists. She’s been working here for about two years now, so if you have any questions, she’ll be able to answer them for you. I think you two will get along lovely,” Lauren informed me.

After introducing me to Faith, she introduced me to the other print journalists for the company, some of which I could tell took their job more seriously than others. Then, she introduced me to the editors. She walked over to a desk where a brunette male sat, seeming to be multitasking by sipping at a coffee and typing at the same time.

“This is Dean, he’s one of our sub-editors. His job is to make sure our print journalists, like you, compose work that’s grammatically and factually correct. He works closely with the art team as well, to make sure the images and words compliment each other perfectly,” she explained.

“Don’t make me sound too perfect, you know I’m always screwin’ around with George,” he joked, making Lauren roll her eyes. With this, he revealed a thick British accent, startling me.

“Sometimes I wish that sub-editors didn’t have to work so closely with the art team,” she sighed, laughing. “If you find yourself working with him, you’ll no doubt find yourself meeting George, too; I can’t seem to separate the pair, it’s like trying to separate two best friends from working on a school project together.”

“Hey, we accomplish loads together! We’re a great team, George and I,” he defended.

“He’s right,” she said in defeat, looking at me. “But I won’t admit that to him.” She winked.

After leaving the brunette to his work, she gave me a tour of the whole building before finally showing me to my desk. It sat next to the window, and there was enough individual space that I could decorate with a few things. It wasn’t ideal for my mild claustrophobia, but it was manageable. I was at least thankful I wasn’t sat in the middle of the row, with people on both sides of me.

I also ended up being sat across from Dean, the brunette sub-editor. I didn’t mind, I thought she’d actually given me an advantage, being physically close to someone I’d have to work closely with. Lauren had also informed me that there would be a meeting with the journalists and editors in an hour from then about new content ideas, which would be a good experience for me to listen to and take mental notes. About ten minutes before the meeting was scheduled to start, Dean stood up and offered me to join him for the meeting, as he figured I may have trouble remembering where the specific conference room was; I hadn’t been able to memorize the complicated large building yet, anyway. I accepted his invitation, and followed him through a hallway.

“Lauren’s kind of shit at training new people,” he confessed, leading me through the twists and turns of the building.

“I’m not even sure where to get started,” I admitted, pulling my bottom lip between my teeth.

“I’m sure one of the other writers can help you with that,” he elaborated. “I can help you with the process of sending the writing to the sub-editors, but I don’t have much knowledge about the actual writing aspect.”

He stopped in front of a door, opening it for me, revealing others I’d previously met, all sat at a long table. The table faced a whiteboard with messy handwriting already scribbled onto it. He pulled a seat out for me, making me blush and seat myself before he took a seat next to me. The head editor I’d been introduced to earlier strolled into the room alongside her PA, her assistant, who scurried over to an empty seat with a laptop. The head editor, who I’d forgotten and was reminded of her name Connie, cleared her throat before starting the meeting.

She began by explaining that they were in need of article ideas for the following weeks. She started with the beauty and fashion editors, as we all listened to them pitch ideas. It was interesting, hearing the pop culture references they were coming up with, as this had been new territory compared to my last job. Once they had come up with ideas and deadlines, she focused on the article ideas for the journalists.

Faith, the ginger-fellow-journalist, cleared her throat before speaking. “I was actually able to get in contact with one of the producers of The Bachelor, and I was thinking of conducting a Skype interview.”

“That’s wonderful! Get that interview scheduled as soon as possible and let’s talk about deadlines later,” Connie ordered, in awe of Faith’s plan.

Other journalists began speaking up, all trying to impress Connie just as much as Faith had. With the pressure and the new environment, I wasn’t able to come up with anything myself. My silence caught Connie’s attention, dragging her emerald eyes toward my shy y/e/c ones.

“I don’t expect you to come up with anything just yet, Y/n; after all, it is your first day,” she reassured me. “However, make sure you use this week to your advantage by taking notes. And, I expect a pitch from you next week.”

I nodded sharply at her instructions, before listening in on the rest of the pitches and deadline dates. She called the meeting to an end soon enough, everyone exiting the room at once in attempt to get to their keyboards as quickly as possible. I followed behind Dean quietly, mind filled with endless thoughts concluding my first meeting at Essence. Dean could sense this, as he spoke up once we’d gotten back to our desks.

“Connie can be a bit intense.” His thick British accent seeping through.

I laughed dryly. “You think?”

I began looking and reading through articles on the Essence website, taking notes. I’d made a separate document page for these specific notes, leaving specific quotations that inspired me and that I felt were important for me to remember. After reading for hours and ignoring the strain in my eyes, I was interrupted by the grumbling of my stomach. I frowned, looking at the small clock in the corner of my computer screen. It read 1:03 pm, meaning I’d missed lunch. I got up from my seat and walked over to the cafeteria, relying on my memory as navigation. The small “cafeteria” held a snack bar, a cabinet set filled with snacks and food, and other kitchen supplies like a fridge, sink, and a microwave.

I decided to make myself a salad from the snack bar and adding a side of cashews to keep me full until dinner. I brought the plate back to my desk and went on my phone, replying back to the texts my roommate had sent me throughout the morning.

“Y/n, what’s your email?”

I looked up from my phone screen and to the brunette across from me, swallowing the bits of lettuce that I’d been chewing for longer than usual. 

“Just for the future,” he added to normalize his question. I nodded quickly and looked around for something to write on.

“Right, um...” I grabbed a sticky-note from my purse and scribbled my email address onto it before reaching over and handing it to him. 

“Thanks,” he stuck the sticky-note onto the table next to his keyboard and resumed typing. 

I turned my attention back onto my salad and my phone screen, continuing to digitally converse with my roommate. My phone buzzed with an email notification, as my head spun to my computer screen. I opened up a new tab, signing into my email in curiosity. I clicked on the new email from the email address “deanchapman7″. Opening up the email, there was a meme image with nothing else attached. I laughed out loud, bringing my hand to my mouth at the sudden reaction. I leaned over to look at him, biting back giggles, as he looked at me innocently. 

“What's so funny?” he smirked.

I shook my head before searching through the memes on my phone, sending myself one of my favorites, before sending it to him. As soon as I heard his mouse click, he snorted and leaned over to look at me from his computer. I copied his previous innocent composure.

“What’s so funny?” I chewed on my lip. He rolled his eyes, before returning his blue irises back to his screen. 

I brought my eyes back to my phone screen, immediately telling my roommate that I’d made a new friend already. With a finished lunch and some more note-taking, the day came to an end as I watched the sun set on the city through the window beside me; that was something I could get used to.

The next day, I had a full day of note-taking ahead of me that I couldn’t say I was looking forward to. I greeted the brunette across from me, as he sipped at his coffee and waved back at me silently, acknowledging my presence but was too caught up in his work to carry a conversation at that moment. I opened my document and pulled up some more articles and began my venture into more endless note-taking. I’d also taken a break to order a pair of Bluetooth headphones from Amazon, since most of my coworkers seemed to have them on their head while working. I wondered if they were listening to music or a podcast while working, and if so, then maybe that helped them focus.

I watched over as Dean aggressively typed across from me before groaning and covering his face with his palms. He rubbed his eyes, standing up and exiting the office, heading down one of the hallways. I bit my lip in curiosity at this sudden outburst, but returned to my work. 

“Excuse me?”

I looked up across from me to see a tall man leaning against Dean’s desk, looking at me. He had dirty blond hair, piercing blue eyes, and his eyebrows seemed to be furrowed in frustration. 

I cleared my throat. “Uhm, yes?”

“Have you seen Dean anywhere? I need to talk to him about something, but he hasn’t been answering my emails,” he surprised me with his British accent, matching Dean’s. Do a lot of people have British accents here?

“Uh,” I stuttered, trying to come up with words as his facial features distracted me. His hair was styled upwards, strands forming soft waves. “He just left not too long ago.” I blurted, pointing towards the hallway in which Dean had exited to.

The man sighed, running his hand through his hair and flaring his nostrils. 

“When he comes back, can you tell him that George was here looking for him?”

“Yes, of course,” my voice hitting a pitch slightly higher than my normal tone. I watched as he stomped away, before stopping in his tracks and turning on his heel, facing me once again. I felt a lump in my throat as his irises scanned my face.

“Are you new here?” he asked, his previous frustration washed away as his tone sounded more innocent this time. 

I nodded, trying my best not to blush under his stare.

“I started here yesterday, I’m a new print journalist,” I stated, trying to sound as professional as I could with his attention on me.

“I’m George, I’m Dean’s mate; I’m the art director here.” He leant forward onto Dean’s desk again, sticking out his hand for me to shake it. 

So that’s George. I grabbed his hand and gave it a delicate shake, watching as he maintained eye contact for a moment before letting go. 

“Judging where he left, I’m thinking he went to go find me,” George laughed, running another hand through his hair and resting the other on his hip. I stared at his navy blue button up, which fit him just right, and his slacks. My eyes traveled to his belt before quickly looking away and mentally cursing myself for looking at him so intimately. 

“He seemed upset when he left,” I admitted, recalling his groan and the way he’d put his face in his hands. 

“Ah,” George clicked his tongue. “That would be my fault. Well, not my fault, but the contents in my email regarding one of the picture editors. Long story short, someone fucked up and it interferes with his deadline. Poor bastard.”

“Jesus, that doesn't sound good,” I chewed on my lip, not quite sure what to say, but wanting to carry on the conversation. 

He laughed, flashing a smile I wish I hadn’t seen, because it made him even more attractive. I was practically jelly in my chair at his point. 

“Yeah, we’ll get it sorted out; we always do,” he confessed with a closed-lip smile. “Well, it was nice seeing you...”

“Y/n,” I introduced with a sheepish smile.

“Y/n,” he corrected himself. “Tell Dean I was lookin’ for him?” 

I nodded. “Will do, as long as he’s not still pissed off; that was kind of scary.”

He laughed again, crinkles by his eyes appearing. 

“Dean? Scary? Bloke’s a teddy bear!” he exclaimed. “Dean wouldn’t hurt a fly. He just gets overwhelmed sometimes, but what sub-editor doesn’t?”

I smiled at his comparison between Dean and a teddy bear. George was right, the brunette seemed extremely kind. I thought back to the day before, when he’d asked me for my email address to send me a meme. Suddenly, Dean appeared from the hallway he'd disappeared into earlier, widening his eyes at George.

“Where the bloody hell have you been?!” Dean exclaimed, throwing his hands up in the air. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you, mate!”

“As have I,” George responded, a lot more calmly. “I met your new desk mate too, by the way, she's lovely.”

I could feel my cheeks turning scarlet at that point due to his compliment. His accent extended the weight of his words, and I knew there was no way I didn’t look like a tomato. Dean looked over to me and sent me a smile.

“Sorry about this idiot,” he glared at his friend, who rolled his eyes playfully. 

“Let’s go to my office,” George suggested. 

And with that, the boys took off toward the elevator. I watched as they walked together, backs turned towards me, before George turned his head to me for a moment, looking at me one last time before they disappeared. I hadn’t realized I was holding my breath before I was practically gasping for air. My hands went to my cheeks, which to my expectations, were on fire. I pinched the bridge of my nose, frustrated with my cheeks habitually turning red every time I was in the least bit embarrassed. 

I looked across from me at Dean’s empty desk, where George had been leaning against, looking at me, just minutes ago. I chewed on my bottom lip, remembering the way his hair looked, the way his hand felt, the way his eyes bore into mine. I had to pinch myself to discontinue the thoughts, remembering that I was at my job. He’s probably slept with every woman in this office, I thought to myself. That thought made me sick, sick enough to quiet my thoughts about him and resume my work. It wasn’t possible for a man that handsome to be such a gentlemen, there had to be something nasty about him. With the effect he had on me, I wondered if he used his charm on other girls in order to get them to sleep with him. That had to be it, right? I hoped that I wouldn’t be seeing him again anytime soon, not sure what I’d do and what thoughts I’d have again. But a small part of me, deep down, begged to see him again.

[yuthoe]

Practice Makes Permanent (PENTAGON: Yeo One)

Hello, friends! This fic is entirely inspired by this post made by Changgu SO LONG AGO, and it looked so cute that I couldn’t get it out of my head. I’m a big theatre geek--I love acting and I was even in an org for it in college, and was cast last minute for a film, too. it’s one of my biggest passions, and hearing news of changgu being in something rotten! made me extremely happy. i needed an excuse anyway to get into the show, and this is the perfect opportunity!

this one took sooooo long to finish. it’s been in my unfinished folder for the longest time, and i’m so glad i’m finally finished with it. changgu’s last performance as Nigel Bottom is today, so i really tried to wrap it up before then. nothing like a deadline to get your ass in gear, am i right lol. but i do apologize if this one seems messy.

btw, the title is something my director would tell us to keep in mind: practice doesn’t make you perfect, it makes you and your body remember what you’re doing, whether it’s correct or not. so you have to practice things in the correct way before it becomes a habit and you keep repeating things the wrong way.

PAIRING: Yeo One x reader. GENRE: fic, general. WARNINGS: N/A. WORD COUNT: 1,635.

---

You knock twice on the door of a dance studio in the company building, before opening it a smidge and peeking your head through, immediately spotting your boyfriend sitting cross-legged against the floor length mirror, his script for the upcoming show he’s in on his lap. Changgu turns to the door at the knocks and smiles wide when he sees you.

The door clicks closed behind you as you skip to where he’s sitting to give him a peck on the cheek. “Hello, handsome,” you greet as you put your messenger bag down on the floor near you; he murmurs a quiet hi as you settle down beside him. “So what did you ask me to come here for?”

He lifts one of your hands to his mouth and presses a soft kiss there. “Okay, so you know I was cast as Nigel Bottom in Something Rotten!, right?”

“Of course, and I’m exceedingly proud of you for landing the role,” you gush, leaning forward and smacking him on the lips. “I know you’ll do great in it.” You’ve seen the musical before, and it’s hilarious, so when Changgu told you the news, you couldn’t help but feel that playing Nigel would suit him to a T.

Changgu chuckles, grinning widely as he kisses you back. “Thank you, love. But yeah, I have a love interest in the play. And much of Nigel’s character development is helped forward by her, so… you know… if you’re okay with it… could you--,”

“Help you memorize your lines with Portia?” you ask with a smile. It’s been a while since you’d done any acting, apart from what’s necessary for your group’s comebacks. The last gig you could remember was for a short film two years ago that was screened during a film festival, and you’ve been itching to get in front of a camera again.

Your boyfriend shrugs nonchalantly, as if it’s no big deal. “Only if you want to, though. I know you’ve been busy lately.” He levels you with a disarming smile and soft caramel eyes. “But I’d really appreciate it if you could help me.”

You had been ready to say yes to the request even before he gave you that look, so you gently cup his face, press a light kiss on his nose, and say, “I’m never too busy for you, love.”

***

“Okay,” Changgu says, sitting on the “bench” (three chairs you’d put in a neat row), sheaves of papers in his hands. “Act 1 Scene 8… action!” He taps his rolled-up script against his palm, quickly unfurls it again, and starts scribbling on the cover with an invisible pen.

You stand a little ways away, clutching a piece of fabric you found in the corner around your head and shoulders like a cloak. Your feet want to move, want to pace around a bit from nerves of seeing and possibly talking to Nigel.

Nigel groans in frustration. “Uggggh, no you can’t.” He sighs, makes to stand up, and you spur into action, walking straight into him as he begins to walk away. “Oh, apologies. Good day, mistress.” He avoids your eyes, defeated.

He begins to side-step to excuse himself when you say, “‘Good days were those when lit with love, till dusk of death did herald th’eternal night’.”

It puts him to a stop, and he finally looks at you properly. He recognizes the line and confusion is written plain on his face, obvious in the way his brows furrow. “Hey… I wrote that.”

“Yes, I know,” you say, trying to fight the smile growing on your face as you lower the “hood” of the cloak. The cloth precariously hangs on your shoulders as you pat your pockets for the paper you stuffed in one of them earlier. “I accidentally took this after our first encounter,” you fumble with the blank page and show it to him. “Your sonnet. It’s--it’s perfection.” You’d never read something so deeply sorrowful and yet yet incredibly hopeful.

“Really?” Nigel’s eyes had lit up when you took off your hood, and now he’s fiddling with his hands, embarrassed but flattered. “You thought it was… good?”

You clutch the paper to your chest. “It touched me in places I did not know could be touched.” Instantly, your eyes widen and you inwardly curse yourself for making it sound like something sexual. You try to backpedal. “Forgive me. Poetry is forbidden in my house, especially poems of earthly love.”

You take a step forward, lifting a hand in front of you like you’re reading a marquee. “OH, IS THERE NO PITY SITTING IN THE CLOUDS THAT SEES INTO THE BOTTOM OF MY GRIEF?!” you yell, and press a hand to your heart with an impassioned sigh.

Nigel points a finger at you, the play coming to him easily. “Romeo and Juliet, Act 3, Scene 6!”

You whip your head towards him, more excited now. “You’ve seen it?”

He nods, just as elated as you. “Six times! And you?”

“Eight! If my father knew, he would disown me,” you reply.

“My brother, too.”

“I adore Shakespeare.”

“Me too! I’ve got Comedy of Errors, first edition,” he says proudly.

You smile. “I’ve got ‘Sonnet No. 1’.” You hold up a finger. “Signed.”

Nigel’s jaw drops. “Wow.”

“I know,” you say, giggling. Talking about literature always makes you so excited that it’s taking all of your willpower to not jump around right now. Nigel chuckles with you, overjoyed to find someone just as in love with poetry as he is.

The laughter dies down after a while, replaced by embarrassed smiles from both of you. As you move to tuck a hair behind your ear, you remember the paper you’re still holding and the reason you sought him out in the first place.

So you take a breath and look at him, completely serious now. “I think you’re his equal--if not better.”

Nigel is already shaking his head. “No, no way.”

“Oh yes,” you insist. “Your sonnet has Shakespearean sophistication mixed with the complexity of Daniel Webster and the sensitivity of Samuel Daniel.” The analysis has been eating at you since you first read the poem, that the words just tumbled out of your mouth. You needed someone to talk to about it, and who better than the author himself?

Nigel looks at you fondly, mouth upturned in an amused smile that shows his teeth. “You really love poetry.”

You sigh, grinning so wide it feels like your face is going to split in two. “Oh, I do. I really, really do.”

“And cut!” Changgu says. “This is where the song comes in, so we’ll skip that.”

“That was a good run!” you say, pulling off the fabric and folding it into a loose square. “I mean, I’m a little rusty so I could use some more practice, but you were good!”

Changgu does a tiny fist pump and gestures to his script. “Can we do another scene?”

“Yeah, sure,” you say, eager to try again. You didn’t think you’d miss acting this much, but Changgu just ignited that fire in you that absolutely loves being on stage. “What did you have in mind?”

***

Hours later finds you both in a cafe, you sitting across Changgu and exchanging notes from your mini-rehearsal earlier that afternoon. He nods in understanding as he highlights his lines on the open script, occasionally scribbling notes and tips in the margins. The serving of iced coffee sits half-empty beside him and you carefully sip your warm latte.

You like this, you think. You like practicing lines with Changgu, acting out scenes together, and delivering a whole new dynamic to your characters’ relationship. It makes you want to actually act with him on a legitimate project and, not for the first time, wish you auditioned for Something Rotten!, even as an ensemble character. 

You hear the clack of Changgu capping his highlighter; it takes you out of the spiral of envy you were slowly tumbling into. He looks up at you, eyes soft and gazing at your face.

“Thank you for practicing with me earlier, Y/N,” he says, smiling.

His smile is literal sunlight and has you grinning back. “Anytime for you, Changgu,” you say with a giggle.

He chuckles and sits back on his chair with a sigh. You study him as he studies the highlighted pages.

“I wonder what it would be like if we worked on a project together,” he muses. “I bet it’d be so much fun. We could practice lines together, have loads of inside jokes…”

His eyes focus on you again. “And it would be an excuse to spend more time with you.”

It still amazes you sometimes, how much you two are on the same wavelength. Because of your packed schedules--comeback preparation for you, and musical rehearsals for Changgu--you hardly have time for each other lately. Truth be told, you miss him, and you know he misses you. Today is just an excuse to see each other after such a long time, and you’re just making the day count until you have free time again. And who knows when that’ll be?

You shake off the solemn vibe and say, “Okay. Next time, we audition for a musical together, yeah? Something… darker, maybe? More drama?”

Changgu grins at you conspiratorially. “Are you thinking romance? Or possibly a tragedy?”

You hum, tapping a finger on your chin in mock thought. “Why not both?”

“Oohh, Sweeney Todd? Chicago?” He starts humming the hook to “Cell Block Tango” while doing vogue-like moves, and it’s taking everything in you to not kiss him right now. You’re in a public place right now, and though there aren’t many people in the shop, public decency is still a thing.

No matter--you’ll make sure to shower his face in kisses later.

[hedwigstalons]

High Expectations - Ch18

Short fic?  Really?  How the hell have we reached chapter 18 already?  

@willow-salix has been a huge support all the way through.  She wields the red pen mightily

Earlier parts: One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten, Eleven, Twelve, Thirteen, Fourteen, Fifteen, Sixteen, Seventeen

AO3 chapter link

Chapter Eighteen

John closed the apartment door and basked in the silence.  The last few weeks had been awful but the last few days had been hellish.  If you had asked him two days ago what had been the hardest part of this summer he would have answered without hesitation his thesis defence interview, not because he had any difficulty with his project but because, even after 4 years at Harvard some of the faculty still struggled with his presence.  

He had bounced onto the quad aged sixteen, looking more like twelve, and instantly made a name for himself by criticising the work of one of the more well respected professors on campus.  It probably hadn’t helped that he had been right.  Since then he had been dogged by whispers of ‘Daddy’s money’ or heckled as an android freak as he eschewed the company of the peers that would never truly be peers due to the gaps in both age and intellect.  University had been a bittersweet mix of unbridled access to learning mixed with a social web to navigate that made high school look like an insignificant warm up.  The culmination of it all had been his thesis defence in front of a panel who didn’t know whether to be intimidated by him or offer him a cookie for being a good boy.  Still, he was walking away from it all, with dual honours and a postgraduate distinction, at an age not dissimilar from those just starting their higher education journey.

The troubles and torments of university, however, had nothing on the hell on Earth that was Boston airport for an extended period of time. He could now categorically say that this had been the worst part of the summer.  The route between east and west coast seemed to be plagued by delays but this, his final time of making the journey, had topped the lot.  Being held up for an unspecified period of time in an airport lounge had brought out the worst in humanity and after a delay that had pushed past 36 hours in the end he would be quite happy to never see another human ever again.  With the apartment door firmly shut on the outside world he fully intended to recharge and bask in the solitude before Alan got home from school.

He padded up the hallway to deposit the travel bag containing a few meagre essentials in his room but never made it that far.

The apartment might have been silent but it wasn’t empty.  His room was next to Alan’s and through the open door he could see that self same teenager sat cross legged on the bed, head set on, controller in hand and eyes glued to the screen that flashed with neon laser cannons and moved at a dizzying pace.  Part of him wanted to tiptoe on past, pretend he hadn’t spotted his younger brother, and collapse onto his own bed.  John could have sworn that he hadn’t done anything that could penetrate the teenager’s electronic cocoon but before he had crossed the doorway Alan’s head whipped round and fixed him with an intense blue stare.

Alan paused the game, dropped the controller next to him and slid off the headset.  He continued to stare in a way that he could see was making his older brother uncomfortable, holding the eye contact that always made John squirm a little, but at this point he didn’t care.

The weeks before Gordon’s departure had been busy.  With a fixed deadline firmly etched on the calendar Jeff had ramped up the pressure on Gordon to gain his pilot’s licence and all the myriad of special endorsements he would need beyond the basics in order to complete a cross-continental journey solo.  Alan wasn’t quite sure why such a high rated licence was necessary but he had appreciated all the extra time at the airfield it necessitated.  Almost every weekend had been spent there so that Gordon could get in the required practice and he had always tagged along, partly to spend more time with Gordon and partly in the hope of getting a lesson himself; it turned out flying was something he had a flair for and he relished those precious moments in the cockpit.  But then Gordon had gained his licence and the lessons had dried up.  Time in the sky went from being a priority to something his father was too busy to provide.  It rankled that he wasn’t worth the effort. 

And then the dreaded day had come.  The day he lost the brother he was closest to to the military might of WASP.  He’d probably come across as petulant and moody, his goodbyes stilted and brief, but the sullen exterior had been his armour protecting him from breaking as something inside him died.  He hadn’t even been able to go with Gordon on the trip up the coast as had been the original plan.  A last minute change had seen their father disappear off on some mysterious overseas errand, leaving Virgil to play taxi service to the WASP to be.  He had begged to go too but unfortunately for him the start date for Gordon had coincided with Scott having some leave and Virgil was staying up north to indulge in some oldest brother bonding time.  So he had been left behind, alone in the apartment, with the promise that John would have arrived by morning. 

Morning had dawned but the promised sibling hadn’t appeared.  The logical side of him knew there would be a perfectly rational explanation for John’s delay but the emotional side of him just added it to the heap of rejection he was feeling.  No one gave a damn about him.  Noone cared what he was doing.  He’d turned right around and headed back into his room to kill zombies.  When the second morning dawned and he was still alone the only difference it made was that the zombies were replaced by asteroids.  

John was pinned uncomfortably by the stare.  Everything about Alan screamed out that he was issuing a challenge, daring John to pass comment.  If he had ignored John’s presence he probably would have been left alone but John was a Tracy too and as with all Tracys he never could resist a challenge. 

“No school today?” he queried, one eyebrow raised in preemptive skepticism.

“Does it look like it?”

“What it looks like is you playing video games on a Tuesday in term time.  The news didn’t mention any schools being flattened by freak hurricanes so why are you here?”

Alan just shrugged and went to pick up his controller again.

“Alan!” 

“What?!  It’s not like there’s any point me being there.”

“There is always a point to school.”

“Yeah?  Well I’m not learning anything there, the stuff they set is just insulting.”

This was one point John could empathise with, boredom in the classroom was a familiar feeling to him.  He felt lucky that he had met forward thinking teachers early on in his school career.  Teachers that had put the effort in to find out his level rather than being happy to have a coasting child in the class that didn’t need their assistance.  The result had seen him progressing through grade school at a pace that, while it still felt slow to him, at least meant he wasn’t inflicted with the full, tortuous twelve years.  Alan on the other hand had been forced to stay firmly in his age grade. 

“What about your friends, surely you’re bored here without them?”

That just earned him an eye roll.

“Can we just skip the questions and head straight to the part where you lecture me.”

“Would it make a difference?  I’m not Dad but you do realise he is going to be majorly pissed when he finds out, don’t you?”

“He’ll only find out if you tell him.”

“You think he won’t find out from school?”

Alan just sighed.

“Seriously Johnny, Gordon and I got all comms from school diverted directly to us years ago.  I’ve already responded to their email.”

“You and Gordon did that?” He was secretly a little impressed that his brothers had found a way to bypass the school systems although he was concerned that their father had seemingly never noticed.

“Well, okay, I did that.  Gordon’s not so hot on the technical stuff but it was his idea.  Dad’s never been that great at dealing with letters and permission slips so I just got in through a school admin account and updated the contact details.  If it’s not a report card he isn’t interested.”

John decided not to pass comment on the low level hacking his baby brother had pulled off.  Instead he picked his way across the minefield that was Alan’s floor to join his little brother on the bed.  The mattress felt deliciously soft compared to the plastic seat upon which he had been forced to spend the night and he felt his bones sigh in relief.  His own bed was still calling out to him but his big brother instincts were screaming at him to fix things, even if he wasn’t entirely sure what he needed to fix.  The screaming won.  He leaned across to grab a second controller off the cluttered bedside unit and synced it into the game.

“So, what’re we playing?  I don’t recognise this one but then there wasn’t much time for gaming at Harvard.”

Alan looked bemused by the turn of events.  Scott held an authority that demanded respect, Virgil would take a softer and more caring approach, Gordon provided a mix of straight talking and fun whereas their father subscribed to the school of parenting that was mostly indifferent until an indiscretion was unearthed.  John was still a bit of an unknown entity, he’d never taken on the role of authority figure for Alan and he couldn’t work out his brother’s strategy.  

  “Uh, it’s something I made myself.”  Alan disconnected his headset and the background music of the pause screen sounded out harshly in the otherwise quiet apartment eliciting an involuntary wince from John.  He guiltily turned the volume down to a more comfortable level before resuming play.

They sat side by side in silence for a few minutes, blasting asteroids and navigating their way through a fast moving debris field.  The game concept appeared simple and John wondered why Alan had done it; it wasn’t like he couldn’t afford to stock up on the commercially available games.

“Games design is a new one for you, this a school project or something?”

John sensed the eye roll even without taking his own eyes off the screen.

“Hardly.  School sucks.”

“So, why make the game?”

“It’s not about the game.  I wanted to see if I could model a debris field.  Thought if I could get it right it could be good training, you know, before astronaut school.”  

“I think you’ll find Tracy College already has their own simulators.  How do you even know this is accurate.”  Alan had made no secret about his desire to head into space and it looked like that was still the life plan.  Part of John hoped the game wasn’t accurate, the objects were flying in thick and fast and he was struggling to react in time to find a clear path for his craft and guide it through.  Alan, on the other hand, was having no such difficulties; his movements were lightening fast and the game seemed to hold no challenge for him.

“Borrowed your books.”  Alan set his own controller down as John’s ship took a direct hit and exploded in a mass of technicolour pixels that ended the game.  He stretched out and plucked a weighty tome off the edge of his desk.

“Borrowed?  I don’t remember you asking.”  John recognised the volume as one of the few undergraduate text books he had investing in the hard copy of.  Slips of coloured paper stuck out at intervals and the pages were rather more worn and well thumbed than he remembered.  

Alan pointedly ignored the question and instead flipped through to the relevant pages.  

“I’m not sure if I got this bit right though.  I struggled to combine the effect of an explosion induced debris field interacting with a meteor shower.”

However John had been expecting his talk to go with Alan, it hadn’t been like this.  He soon found himself drawn into an animated discussion of the core principles of astrophysics and how material behaved in a vacuum.  Alan’s grasp of the subject, considering he was entirely self taught, surprised the elder Tracy.  On his rare visits home Alan had always pestered him to go star gazing or asked him his thoughts on the latest developments in astronaut training but he’d had no idea that Alan’s interest had extended into him seemingly attempting to study most of the first year of his Harvard course from home.  No wonder the kid was bored at school.  

When Jeff returned later that night it was to find the two boys deeply engrossed in some project or other.  Books and piles of scribbled notes lay scattered around them and John’s fingers danced through lines of holographic code as he pointed out some facet or other to the younger boy who seemed to hang on his every word.  He assumed John was helping Alan with his homework and thought no more of it as he settled down to his own evening. 

xoxoxox

“Mr Tracy, a Miss West is on the line for you.”

Jeff frowned at the unexpected intrusion from his personal assistant.  “Miss West?”  He couldn’t place the name.

“She says she is calling from the High School, Sir”

“Put her through then.”  He paused a moment until the slight click indicating a change in caller reached his ears.  

“Mr Tracy?  I’m Sarah West, Alan’s home room teacher.”  The woman on the other end of the call sounded slightly nervous and with good reason, the Tracy reputation was formidable and seeing Alan’s name on her class list when he had joined the school had led to rounds of commiserations in the faculty lounge.

“Miss West, what can I do for you?”  He tried to keep the puzzlement out of his voice.  The last time he had received a call from the school, or any kind of communication now he came to think about it, had been over Gordon’s suspension.  He hoped he was not in for a repeat of that embarrassing incident.

“I just wanted to check on how Alan was doing.  The class are all missing him and hope he is able to return to school soon.”

Jeff understood the words being spoken but the actual sentiments made no sense.  As far as he was concerned Alan was at school at that very moment.  He kept his voice carefully neutral.

“I thank you for your concern Miss West.  I will certainly pass on your regards when I see Alan this evening.”

“Thank you Mr Tracy.  Please accept my best wishes for you and all your family, it can be so hard when these things happen.  Please keep me informed of his progress through the parent portal and once Alan is well enough to come back we will look at putting a catch up and transition programme in place for him.  Alan is a bright boy and I have every confidence that he will be able to catch up with these missed weeks.”

“Thank you Miss West.  I will of course keep you informed.  Now if you will excuse me.”

“Of course Mr Tracy, goodbye.”

“Goodbye Miss West.”

Missed weeks.  The words rang out in his head, causing him to rub his temples.  Trouble at school had always been Gordon’s domain, he’d been gone for months but still his influence was being felt.  Alan had always taken after John until now; good grades, generally studious and with a passion for space. Whatever was going on Jeff knew he needed to nip it in the bud.  Pausing only to inform his PA that he would be heading out for lunch and might not return that day Jeff headed back to the apartment.

Jeff found Alan in his room, engrossed in some project or other.  He rapped smartly on the doorframe, breaking the teen’s concentration and causing him to look round in surprise.  The look Jeff was treated to wasn’t one of fear or remorse though and there was certainly no sign of guilt at being caught where he shouldn’t.

“Alan, my study.  Now!”  He strode off down the hallway without waiting for a response.

Alan sighed and followed, knowing that to ignore a direct command would be foolish.  By the time he reached the study Jeff was already behind the desk in his customary position for dispensing judgement, a situation Alan had rarely been in but had certainly heard about often enough from Gordon.  He was more than a little intimidated at the prospect of what was to come but he tried not to let it show as he stood there, ramrod straight, waiting for his father to make the opening move.

“So Alan, I had an interesting call from Miss West today.  Explain yourself”  

The words caused Alan’s stomach to drop, there was no way he could pass today off as an isolated incident now.  He had been signing off on his absences via the parent portal but if his teacher had actually called up then it was likely his father knew everything.  Not knowing what to do for the best he opted to say nothing.  The silence stretched out uncomfortably as he felt himself being appraised by eyes as hard as flint.

“I see.  Let’s keep this simple.  How long have you been skipping school for?”

“Since the beginning of the semester.”  There was no point lying about it now.  After his few days of indiscretion when Gordon first headed off to WASP John had made sure he went off to school each day.  At the end of the summer holidays though, with John and Virgil departed for Tracy College, there was no one to force the issue.  September had arrived and with it the start of a new school year but among the faces arriving for a fresh round of learning Alan’s had been notably absent.

“Why?  Your teacher seems to be under the impression you are unwell.  Are you unwell?”  The skeptical lilt to the voice and raised eyebrow would have made even John proud.

“No.”

“So why are you risking failing high school?” 

“Failing it?”  Alan snorted  “School’s boring.  I’d be able to get my diploma now if they’d just stick me in the right classes, then I could be done with the place.”

“And what makes you think you could complete your diploma now if you won’t attend class” 

“John did.”  Alan’s chin jutted out in defiance and Jeff was given a sudden and uncomfortable reminder of another son who had found school far too easy.  The arguments may have had a different focus but Alan wouldn't be the first Tracy to have found the system too limiting, the difference being that John had been fast tracked before the boredom got too much.  “I’m not learning anything at school.  It’s not like I’m just flunking out though, John’s been sending me some stuff through that’s far more interesting.”

“That’s as maybe but did John tell you to just ditch classes?  I seem to remember him maintaining an exemplary attendance record”

For the first time Alan felt a wave of guilt, the weight of it causing him to bow his head in shame.  John may have agreed with him that the school work he was being set was far too easy and been coaching him on more challenging topics to feed his thirst for knowledge on all things astronomical, but his brother would never have condoned him skipping class.  He was not going to let John take any of the blame for his choices.

“No, Sir.”  

“I see.”

Alan wasn’t quite sure what it was his father saw as he stood there being appraised like some interesting specimen.  There was another drawn out silence.  He could almost hear his father’s thoughts as he considered his next move.

“Show me.”  Alan’s head jerked up in confusion.  “Persuade me.  A key skill you would learn in school, if you were there, is how to present a well balanced and constructed argument.  Prove your case.  I’ll be here waiting.”

Alan had been expecting some sort of reprimand, either a bawling out or a quietly pronounced punishment.  So far he had received neither and he was feeling a little on the back foot but then his father had a flair for the unexpected, it’s what made him a formidable adversary in the boardroom.  He retreated to his room to think upon the challenge.  He wasn’t sure what he wanted to prove, didn’t have a clue what his argument was or what he wanted to achieve but he knew he had better come up with a plan fast.  It felt like he was being offered a lifeline of some sort but a lifeline that had the potential to cut you down if grasped in the wrong way.

He retreated into his room and sat down at the desk, the detritus of his latest project from John scattered in front of him where he had abandoned it at his father’s command.  What did he want?  He knew he didn’t want to go back into that hell-pit high school, each day of drudgery just sapped the life out of him, but how could he prove to his father that school was only holding him back?  He gazed unseeingly as the scribbled formulae he had been working on, all the time conscious that his father wouldn’t wait forever.

Those same formulae presented him with his answer.  His father had always been focussed on results, getting the most efficient return on his investment and abhorred anything he viewed as a waste of time.  Alan knew that if he could prove beyond doubt that attending school was just wasting precious learning time then he might never have to go back.  He started gathering together the work he had been doing for John as evidence that he really didn’t need to sit through another hour of basic trigonometry when he was already able to apply it to complex problems.  

Jeff sat back and waited.  He couldn’t predict Alan’s next move but then he realised he didn’t really know Alan at all.  All the way through the young boy’s life his care had fallen to others.  Others had formed him and moulded him and evidently turned Alan into someone capable of missing several weeks of school under his nose without him realising.  Those influences had all been evident during their short exchange.  He had witnessed Gordon’s defiance and determination, John’s intellect and Virgil’s sense of justice.  Even traces of Scott were evident in the set of Alan’s jaw and the way he held his shoulders despite Scott only really being present for half of Alan’s short life.  How telling that a brother absent some eight years held more influence than he did as father.  If there was one thing common to all his sons though it was the ability to rise to a challenge; the afternoon had the potential to be surprising.

Jeff never made it back to the office.  He couldn’t remember the last time he had had a meaningful and in depth discussion with his youngest son.  His conversations with Alan were normally limited to a few perfunctory exchanges in the evening and maybe a goodbye if Alan was up before he headed to the office.  Over the course of the afternoon he got more insights into Alan than any mere report card could give.  For a start those bland documents could only show that Alan had met the maximum expected standard for his class, behind the lists of grades his son’s true abilities had been hidden.  

Alan might have been skipping school but he hadn’t been squandering his time.  Jeff was treated to comparisons of the high school math curriculum compared to the problems John had been setting, ostensibly as a way of Alan bolstering a future college application as the middle Tracy had been unaware that the youngest had abandoned his traditional studies completely.  Physics, coding and a raft of other topics handy for the modern astronaut similarly followed and it became clear that Alan was willing to put the effort in on the topics that interested him. 

Once Alan had finished lambasting the Californian education system he turned hopeful eyes on his father.

“So, can I quit?” 

If there was one thing that Jeff agreed on it was that the current curriculum being inflicted on Alan was uninspiring and certainly not challenging for the youngster.  He was also conscious that his lawyers had not managed to secure the removal of their family tragedy from the text books in time for this academic year and therefore Alan would be subjected to the same ordeal as Gordon in just a few short months time if he stayed in the classroom.   However, he also knew that without a high school diploma Alan would be unlikely to be able to access the higher education he needed to turn his dreams of space into a reality; he knew this from his own path to the stars.

“No.”   

“But Dad…” 

“No Alan, I will not have any son of mine walking away from education without a high school diploma.  If you are at all serious about becoming an astronaut then you need to play by the rules, without a diploma you would be ineligible for any of the space programmes out there.”  

Jeff watched the disappointment flood his son’s features and wondered if Alan had really been paying attention to his words and whether he would spot the loophole in his pronouncement.  He waited as Alan put together his next move, he could almost see the thoughts as they played out.  Alan always had been the son to wear his emotions closest to the surface.

“I just have to get my diploma, right?”  There was a hesitancy as a glimmer of hope was seized on.

“That’s right.”

“But there are other ways of getting my diploma, not just in school.  Right?”  

“Potentially.  So what do you want to do?”

“Can I...can I do homeschool?  I’m sure we’ve got everything I need to join an online programme and then just get it done.”

Jeff paused as though contemplating the request.  Really, having Alan homeschooled would be better for both of them; Alan could learn at his own pace and he would find it easier to have oversight of his son’s progress and commitment.  

“You have until the end of the week to find a suitable programme otherwise I will march you straight back to the classroom myself on Monday morning.  I know you don’t see the point of half the subjects you have to take but they are important, your diploma is important, even if it’s only as a paper steppingstone to better things.”  Jeff found himself on the receiving end of one of Alan’s grins and realised sadly that he hadn’t seen one of those since their last flying lesson.  “Now, don’t you have some research to do?”

Alan took the hint and headed out of the study with far more bounce than he’d had when entering it.  Jeff had no concerns about delegating the task to his son, the similarities to John had been clear to see and he had every faith that Alan would find a suitable programme within the allotted time frame.  The fact that the change to homeschooling came with the added bonus of one less loose end to tie up when the time came to relocate was not lost on him.

[vroenis]

Uncharted 4: An Era’s End

It’s recently come to light that game developer Naughty Dog has been subjecting its employees to crunch; the practice of overworking and underpaying staff in order to meet deadlines. This is not unique to Naughty Dog, nor to their current project pending release later this year, The Last Of US 2. Reports suggest that crunch has been endemic in the working culture of Naughty Dog for some time and this is now no surprise to us as such reports continue to surface about studio after studio, most in the corporately structured, premium funded and managed space we call “triple A” or AAA, but many smaller studios and independent spaces also. Several senior and long-tenured creatives have left Naughty Dog quite recently, and some may have been leaving earlier than those that have been reported during what’s turning out to be a turbulent development cycle for The Last Of Us 2.

Each month, as part of the paid subscription to the Playstation Plus online service, Sony offers a small selection of games. For April, one of them was Naughty Dog’s Uncharted 4: A Thief’s End, from which I derived my title. Not only am I here to suggest the studio’s troubles may have begun during the development of this game, first released back in 2016, but the title may have been one of the first significant indications that the book was closing on AAA development as we know it. I appreciate there have been many good voices shouting from the rooftops about the how unsustainable it’s been from before then, but the Naughty Dog for a long time seemed like a light in the dark, signalling that a big studio could still produce good product under strong leadership.

I feel that Uncharted 4 rather than The Last Of Us 2 is the real light, and instead of a light-house, it turned out to be a signal-fire warning that even then the composure of Naughty Dog was an illusion.

This piece is going to contain significant spoilers for Uncharted 4. It’s also not investigative - I just played it for the first time, completed it and I have some thoughts about it; these are my thoughts.

I didn’t like the third game at all. I took nothing away from it. I’ll never play it again as there’s nothing I want to relive from it, so I’d better look up the wiki on what happened in it... well that didn’t help at all as I don’t remember playing any of that, it was so unmemorable. I remember the wandering around in the desert bit and then some shooting in the desert which was all pointless. There were also some puzzles with shadow puppets that were almost good but so short and pointless, those two things sum up my feelings about the third game entirely.

What a way to start.

I’ve replayed the first and second games once each, so I’ve played those each twice thru and have decided that the first game is overlong and poorly paced, and the second game is the best and probably two-thirds good. Honestly, Elena should drop the Drakes in the ocean, run-off with Chloe and keep in touch with Sully because those are the only three characters with any depth and meaning. Let’s roll-back a bit.

I get that Nathan’s supposed to be a charming, happy-go-lucky character and for the most part, it works. Maybe I’m just getting too old for it or it’s wearing too thin. I really think the third game was completely unnecessary. When I review my notes on the fourth game, I think about the emotional quandary it attempts to set up i.e., ultimately that Nathan should be more honest with Elena - spoiler; he isn’t, but don’t worry it all works out *SPIT* - this was already a problem I was ready to face at the end of the second game. Given my feelings on the third game, I’d have much preferred a simple trilogy and conclusion that faced that emotional brunt to wrap things up. Naturally of-course, that’s not how money-spinners work.

If Uncharted 4 doesn’t spend time on Elena, who does it spend time on? Nathan has a brother! To be fair, I love Troy Baker as a voice actor and if there’s one thing that is consistent in Naughty Dog games, it’s excellent voice acting. I don’t know if I’m now biased after seeing so much of Nolan North and Troy Baker on YouTube outside of their VO talent work, but they’re wonderful people and their professional work is always great. The supporting cast is always great, too - so too the villains even if the narrative arcs are always completely absurd. I know these are always a bit of a lark, you can’t take them too seriously so I can’t hold Uncharted up to Kentucky Route Zero (got my mention in) and shake them comparatively, that’s not fair. It’s OK to have an excuse for a romp even if it does wear on a bit over time.

The problems I have with Uncharted 4 specifically are things like the level and environmental design. I’ve never gotten lost in this franchise up until now when it happened in almost every level... several times. I simply didn’t know where to go. There would be absolutely no clear indication of where to go and no assists, no subtle environmental guide and no camera nudges to help. There is a timer that eventually tells the player where to go and at times, this is tied to deaths so at one point I just threw Nathan off cliffs repeatedly to respawn until the hint appeared. This is unquestionably stupid design. I began to wonder if this was due to criticism that previous games had too much hand-holding, but when the UI assist was finally given and I made my way to the next check-point, I would *never* have found it under normal exploratory gameplay.

This remained true during several moments of scripted action sequences, some including during combat which brings up something else I now remember about the third game. I still couldn’t tell you when it was other than I didn’t know where to go and it was stupid, so there you have it. Maybe the third game was the real signal fire in my metaphor, who knows. In any case, constantly reverting to check-points and having to repeat, not understanding why you’re failing when the game isn’t telegraphing what you need for a success state in a scripted sequence is an exercise in frustration I’m not willing to ever repeat. While I’m not a souls-like player, I completely appreciate the admiration and respect for those games because they have rules that are clear to parse. Video games are *all about* providing feedback to the player. I’m not saying it’s easy, it is an incredibly difficult thing to achieve but it is literally the job you set out to do, it is the only vehicle you have to convey the lofty emotions you want to communicate to your audience.

And then there’s the driving. Naughty Dog. Do not put driving in your games. This is something you’re not able to do.

I don’t want to bash the driving so hard because at this point I feel like it may have been bolted on without time to make it stick correctly. This is the first game in the title where the hot-zones for interactions weren’t quite right. Where I bugged out of animations and had check-points or re-spawns instanced or loaded. Where I glitched out and fell off things, where I had to walk back and forth in-front of things to make buttons appear. The edges of that Naughty Dog polish were fraying. I’d attempt to do a thing and it just wouldn’t work, I’d fall to my death. I’d attempt to do the same thing the same way and it would work. Again this is dredging up more nondescript memories of the third game so I’m beginning to have my suspicions about the working environment there and when in the timeline things started getting bad - but cameras and jumping distances got really difficult to judge. One gap at one time would be fine to jump, then another would have you plunge to your death, and they’d be inconsistent to read or judge. These were not frequent, as with the third game, almost as if the artists and level designers were given time to adjust lighting and camera geometry tracking and control mapping as much as possible but just couldn’t get to them all. But throughout the games, it creeps in more and more.

I’d talk about combat - it’s functional, but it’s not interesting. These games don’t add anything interesting to the genre or video games in general. I play the games on easy because I don’t need to prolong the experience, I don’t actually have the physical time - if I could play the games without combat, I would. There are other games to play if I want dexterity challenges which I do engage in, Uncharted isn’t one of them. Even in 2016 I’m not entirely sure this would have turned heads. I realise I’m playing this a full four years later, but it’s hard to think of the sum-total of this game’s parts and see it as relevant...

But you know what? Uncharted 4 visually looks immaculate. Outside of the voice-acting and sound design, without question, the highest priority has been given to the visual fidelity of this game inclusive of the animations. So much has been invested in how the tech works, to the abandonment of everything else, I’d say the for example, the driving suffered the most, level design next, then interaction scripting. The attention to detail in the environments is stupendous...

...yet it’s all hollow. You know what? I don’t care about pirates and adventures anymore. Whatever. By the fourth game, I don’t care. I totally get that the game’s not for me but I played it and I’m writing how I feel about it. You’re telling me a story about a guy who met the person of his dreams and marries, then his brother turns up and he can’t be honest to his wife? Meow meow meow it’s all for the sake of drama so we skip over all the details but the contrivance is too much. You want me to accept these things on face value, then on face value, I say Nathan and his brother can go get fucked.

I took particular issue with the comically brief relationship discussion Elena and Nathan have after she saves him and they set off together in which she concludes she’s with him “for better or for worse”, which from memory the game chapter is titled after. Now either the character genuinely believes she owes him under the sanctity of nuptial obligation or she’s using it as a justification of such. This is a wholly unsatisfying discussion for me was when I finally checked out of this game - sure I should have done so hours before but this was the last straw and the indication that I am definitely too old for this shit - but this is a horrifying and stupid message to be spouting. Elena don’t owe anyone shit. Married or not, she’s free to save Nathan if she wants to, for any reason, but she’s certainly not obliged to. I despise this massive chunk of traditionalist patriarchy smashed into her character and the narrative, even if it is “well it’s just about her character” yea great, so that just re-enforces her as a loyal dog-trophy for the main character in the on-going male power-fantasy shenanigans shit-train. Nathan’s behaviour isn’t exactly selfish but it’s certainly not adult or considerate. He behaves like a child not taking on an appropriate level of responsibility. Others around him, being Elena and Sully, continuously bail him out - literally saving his life while endangering their own, and he continues to behave like a manchild that neither acknowledges their physical and emotional labour nor does he grow and evolve as an individual. What a fucker. Does he ever sort his shit out, ask Elena what she wants to do for a career and support whatever the fuck she wants to do with her life? Of-course the fuck he doesn’t. Know why? Because he’s a literal man-baby. And his brother is too. But that’s OK cos  he’s a fucken jock-hero and a funny guy so as long as we can all laugh about it and the narrative says-so and it all works out in the end and he gets the girl and she ends-up supporting his career anyway, it’s aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaall fine.

Nathan should have died and Elena shouldn’t have given a fuck.

I know I know, it’s not that serious. Look I’ve been thru some shit, alright? I can see it both ways. Sometimes you don’t think about stupid shit that deep and sometimes you do. Most of the time, I do, and most of the time, I take it to the nth degree, so yea, shit like that gets to me. I call it bad writing, so no, I don’t like the story. At all. Nathan’s supposed to be flawed but nothing ever costs him. When people make mistakes in life, those mistakes cost. The unfortunately thing is the cost is most often paid by the others around them, and sometimes they themselves never realise it. I don’t like stories where there’s a fuckhead at the centre but everyone still stays happy. Nathan seems to have been given a lesson, but I don’t think he earned it. This is why y’all watch Game of Thrones and are surprised when characters die because you keep consuming narratives with no stakes, and GoT is *still* only middling stuff.

Anyway.

How could Elena’s character have been given more attention? Uncharted 4 isn’t all bad. The most valuable thing Naughty Dog achieved was the recreation of real domestic spaces; the Drake households. Twice, we’re given time and space and encouraged to explore them without being funnelled by level design, events, NPC shepherding or audio cues. Rooms and the objects that fill them are meticulously and beautifully created, and they're given life and purpose in a way that has meaning far beyond all the pirate nonsense that while almost as equally beautiful, is completely vacuous.

Putting on Elena’s vinyl record as her daughter Cassie was the only time I enjoyed the music in the game, and it was a great call-back to Nathan having done the same thing in their house much earlier. Sure, there’s the Drake theme that repeats ad nauseam throughout the series but otherwise the soundtrack is bland and unremarkable adventuring fare. It contributes more to the feeling of this game being out of touch, contrasted to something like Control which certainly has a completely different setting, sure - but that’s part of it, so that affords the creative team room for more modular synths and drones and to have a distinct sound.

Walking thru those houses, first as Nathan but really as the player repositioning themselves from adventurer to ordinary life-living person in a domestic setting, and then as Cassie - daughter of these two amazing characters in an equalling urbane setting yet filled with wonderful objects, made up the most fascinating and enjoyable moments of the game for me. The mess of each room gave the houses the perfect lived-in feel to a degree that most other games struggle to achieve, probably due to how much effort it takes to get that much geometry mapped in - Giant Sparrow’s What Became of Edith Finch is probably one of the few games that has come close. The difference between the tropical islands, decaying pirate mansions and the domestic Drake residences is that the houses felt like everything in there felt like it meant something and was in there for a reason, like it had been part of something. I don’t mean that just for the objects that were intrinsically tied to implicit narrative beats like collectables or even items from countries where Uncharted 4 or prior games are set, but also things like towels, washing baskets, plates and dishes, books and picture frames, shampoo bottles, food - the detail in the fridges! That you can feed Cassie’s dog, Vicky is the most meaningful interaction of the game - by the way, the second most meaningful set of interactions is buying an apple in the market in Madagascar then playing with lemur and letting it take the apple.

Back to the houses, I’m disappointed we never got to walk through one of them as Elena. Now that the core of the franchise is wrapped, I’m left with the impression that she’s the most important character in the series and she’s left woefully under-served. This is a very me thing, and unsurprising. I doubt anyone else cares enough about writing and character to have thoughts like this. They’re into Uncharted for the adventuring and the shooting, but as soon as you present me the opportunity for character drama and you want to have a red-hot go at it, I’m here to set aside the rest of that guff and go for it. The running and jumping and shooting never changes, and I’m here to say that the puzzling could have stepped up orders of magnitude that Naughty Dog never committed to - Crystal Dynamics did far better with Rise Of The Romb Raider, and while the puzzling was never really difficult, the way I described it to a friend was to liken the puzzles to desk toys; not intended to be too challenging, but more satisfying in their tactile nature. I feel Fireproof’s The Room series for iOS and Android are great examples of providing similar sensations.

I don’t mind a game mostly about shenanigans, I just don’t want it centred around a character that won’t learn, or who gets off cheaply. Elena is infinitely more interesting to me - her concerns, her desires - Chloe too, for that matter, and I absolutely am not above making the joke about shipping them as I’m sure thousands have before me (no I won’t write a fanfic about them, I’m sure there are plenty around).

I didn’t play the first The Last of Us. There was a horrifically jarring moment when the game felt it was over-playing its sense of cinema to me, then had a sudden camera zoom transition onto I think the first combat gameplay and I checked out. The tone of that game is trying to telegraph TAKE ME SERIOUSLY and I feel all I’m going to do is read tonally similar things to what I have here but far worse. Also post-apocalypse is easy pickings for bad writing, especially by video games narrative writers, I just don’t have the patience. I’m pleased that there’s lesbian representation in the second game but I’m not sure it’ll be handled with sensitivity. While I’m in no way invested in the game as a product, I continue to be concerned for the welfare of the employees at Naughty Dog, and all game developers everywhere, as always. It is a hugely unregulated industry that is in the process of slow collapse, and now more than ever do we need reform and cultural change.

And in the midst of that, one day we’ll get a decent game that’s about domestic partnerships and wonderful emotional relationships with stunning visual fidelity; maybe it’ll have running and jumping and shooting and maybe it won’t. Maybe it’ll end sadly and maybe it’ll end happily but hopefully it’ll be well-written. 

Here’s to Elena.

[bpro-cardstories]

Ryuji Korekuni SSR

2019 ー Childhood [Childhood]

“Fufu, Ryuji-kun, your eyes are sparkling. This time, it is for the sake of the children and the project but… I hope it becomes a meaningful job for Ryuji-kun who had a short childhood.”

『 Event: The Wizarding Academy (02nd - 09th October 2019) 』

Part 1

KitaKore and MooNs have a joined charity project together. 

Tsubasa: ‘Everyone, thank you for coming. Since everyone is here I will move on to the main subject.’

Tsubasa: ‘This time several publishers come together for a sponsorship. Daikoku Production has also joined the charity project『 Love for Children 』. Therefore, I thought that KitaKore and MooNs surely would like to participate as well.’

Hikaru: ‘Ooh~! Charity sounds good!! Hm, children you say… Is it a fund-raising for children?’ 

Tsubasa: ‘That’s right. You will join the event as ambassadors… I’m thinking about doing marketing at the venue or online, and handle the charity’s goods’ design too.’ 

Hikaru: ‘The goods’ design, huh.’ 

Tatsu: ‘Is it alright if we are in charge? Because …’

He then looks at their leader which fairly surprises the latter. Kazu is not known for having an artistic side... Mika tries to somehow save Kazu’s honor. 

Kazu: ‘Eh? Why are you looking at me, Tatsuhiro?’  

Mika: ‘It’s because leader’s artistic level is too high! We are afraid that we can’t keep up with your skill.’ 

Tatsu: ‘Y-Yeah. That’s true.’ 

Tsubasa: ‘Fufu, it will be okay. It seems that for the final adjustment a professional designer will lend us his hand.’ 

Ryuji: ‘That’s a relief. So… Tsubasa talking about this, does it mean that things revolving around the event is of Gandara’s responsibility?’ 

Tsubasa: ‘That’s right. However, in this situation there are teams that are familiar with this work, so as usual I will be able to support everyone.’

Tomo: ‘That’s a big help. As always, thank you, Tsubasa.’ 

Tsubasa: ‘No, I should be the one, thank you very much! However, there is something I need to tell you first.’

Tsubasa: ‘The truth is I wanted you to choose your role freely. Though, for the advertising or schedule’s reasons there is something that was assigned beforehand, that is said they wish to deal with.’

Ryuji: ‘Fuun. Well, you can’t help it, right? The adults’ reasons can’t be ignored.’

Hikaru: ‘True, you don’t need to worry, Tsubasa-chan ~ ♪ And, and? What’s our part!?’ 

Tsubasa: ‘E-Ehm… MooNs is asked to design goods such as T-shirts or sticker towels.’ 

Hikaru: ‘Oh, that sounds like fun! How about drawing a huge smiley moon symbol in the middle of a shirt?’ 

Tatsu: ‘What’s that. Listen first.’ 

Kazu: ‘A smiling moon, huh? For example, like this…’ 

Hikaru: ‘Eh? A-Ah! That’s close!! Like that!? Perhaps!’ 

Ignoring MooNs’ attempts to not hurt Kazu’s feelings, Ryuji wants to know what KitaKore is in charge of. 

Ryuji: ‘… So, what’s our part, Tsubasa?’ 

Tsubasa: ‘Kitakado-san will produce a compilation CD that collects music according to the project’s image. Ryuji-kun is asked to create a picture book for children.’ 

Tomo: ‘It looks like the creative direction varies depending on the group. It seems difficult but worth doing. Right, Ryuji?’ 

Ryuji: ‘Yeah… That’s right.’ 

Momo: ‘If Korekuni says so, it looks like to become a success.’

Tomo: ‘Because Ryuji has an excellent sense of colour, the picture book surely will be fun to look at.’  

Ryuji: ‘... I wonder. It seems so.’ 

(Ryuji-kun acts evasive somehow… Is there something worrying him?) __________

(Later when Tsubasa brought Ryuji home.) 

Tsubasa: ‘Ryuji-kun, for today too, good work.’

Ryuji: ‘Thanks. You will send the check of today’s shooting, right?’ Tsubasa: ‘Yes, I think, I can send it to you next week.’ 

Ryuji: ‘I see. Ok then, see you tomorrow.’ 

When he is about to go, Ryuji is stopped by Tsubasa who didn’t forget the incident earlier. 

Tsubasa: ‘Ah…’ 

Ryuji: ‘... What is it, Tsubasa?’ 

Tsubasa: ‘Ah, no… Uhm, I think if possible I can bring you what looks like useful reference material for the charity’s picture book but do you have an image in mind?’   

Ryuji: ‘Image… Image, huh.’ 

Tsubasa: ‘A colour or a theme, anything is fine.’ 

Ryuji: ‘....’ 

Tsubasa: ‘.... Ryuji-kun, could it be that you are not good with picture books?’ 

Her suggestion catches him off-guard. 

Ryuji: ‘Eh?’ 

Tsubasa: ‘Because you were looking visibly depressed during the meeting.’ 

Ryuji: ‘Oh-- …. No, that’s not really the case. Truth is, I have a feeling that I won’t be able to do it the way other people do in creating interesting things. I barely read picture books until now.’

Tsubasa: ‘That’s… Even as a child?’

Ryuji: ‘Yeah. There was a picture book my mother read to me repeatedly but I hardly remember anything else. When I was able to read letters, as a child actor I was holding a script in my hand … I watched more movies than read books, I guess.’

Ryuji: ‘That’s why, I don’t know what picture book makes children happy… There’s not really a focus. For the time being, I think I’ll do a lot of research but it may be quite difficult--’

Part 2

Hikaru: ‘I made it! A huge sand castle ~!’ 

Boy: ‘Woaah-!’ 

Tomo: ‘The meal was really delicious, thank you.’ 

Girl: ‘You are welcome -! 

(Fufu. The children and everyone seem to have fun playing. We came to the kindergarten as part of the project, but it seems like it is also a break for them.) 

Boy: ‘Hey, hey, let’s play shadow-catching?’ 

Girl: ‘Hide-and-seek!’

Ryuji: ‘Eh? Wait, let’s play in turn--’ 

Boy: ‘I said shadow-catching!’ 

Girl: ‘No, hide-and-seek!’ 

Ryuji: ‘Would you listen to me. If each of you is only talking about your own favorite play…’

Girl: ‘Hide-and-seek! Hide-and-seek, hide-and-seek!!’ 

Ryuji: ‘Wait…’ 

Tsubasa: ‘Look, you two, they seem to be playing game of tag over there.’ 

Boy: ‘Really!? Yay--’ 

Girl: ‘Ah, wait! I’ll go too!’

Ryuji: ‘Geez… What was that quarrel even about?’ 

Tsubasa: ‘Fufu. Children are difficult. Or should I say, their reasons can’t be comprehended...’ 

Ryuji: ‘It seems so. Since I don’t play with small children I honestly don’t know why I should. Haa… I thought I could find the focus of the picture book here but it’s not going too well.’

Tsubasa: ‘Please don’t mind too much, ok? Let’s think about it carefully and without rushing.’ 

Ryuji: ‘But, you can’t say that, am I wrong? After all, we have a deadline…’ 

Ryuji: ‘... Oh?’ 

Tsubasa: ‘Eh… What happened?’ 

Ryuji: ‘No, I was wondering if that child over there is fine. It looks to be alone in the corner… Is it playing with building blocks, or rather arranging them in a line…? What should we do.’

Tsubasa: ‘Shall we try to approach the child?’

Ryuji: ‘Yeah…’ __________

Ryuji: ‘Hi, what are you doing there?’

Boy: ‘.... Airplane.’

Ryuji: ‘Eh?’

Boy: ‘The airplane. It will transform into a robot. This is the princess’ pirate.’ 

Ryuji: ‘What’s with the princess and the pirate…’ 

Tsubasa: ‘You think of the building blocks as the airplane or robot.’ 

Ryuji: ‘What about the colourful blocks that are stacked up here?’ 

Boy: ‘Jewels. The pirate is hiding the treasure.’ 

Tsubasa: ‘What a story you have there…!’ 

Ryuji: ‘Fufu, and grand.’

Ryuji: ‘... It’s nostalgic somehow. I used to play like this as well.’

Tsubasa: ‘Ryuji-kun as well?’ 

Ryuji: ‘When I was a child actor, the waiting time during the drama shooting was long and boring. At that time, I was playing imagining various things alone. Like, if the candy in the dressing room was a magic candy…’ 

Tsubasa: ‘Fufu, how cute. What power does the candy have?’ 

Ryuji: ‘I imagined all the places I want to go to. No matter how far, you can go to that place instantly. Though when it melts, you return to reality.’ 

Ryuji: ‘Somehow… It’s similar to The Little Match Girl?’

Tsubasa: ‘A magic candy that makes it possible to go anywhere. Ryuji-kun, doesn’t it sound like a theme for the picture book?’ 

Ryuji: ‘Eh?’ 

Tsubasa: ‘I was really excited when I listened to the story just now. As one would expect, it would be lonesome if the story unfolds like the one of The Little Match Girl…’

Ryuji: ‘So… if it’s possible to make the end a Happy Ending, will it also fit into the picture book’s story? If the colourful candies are scattered all over the book, it probably will make the children happy.’

Tsubasa: ‘I think, that is a really good idea!’ 

Ryuji: ‘... Yep, it’s not bad. For now, let’s think about the outline.’ 

Both, especially Ryuji, are pleased to have finally found a theme for the picture book. Next is the realization of the idea.

Part 3

Ryuji: ‘--Tsubasa, do you have a moment? I brought the picture book’s illustrations.’ 

Tsubasa: ‘Ah, how fast! Please let me take a look.’ 

Ryuji: ‘It’s more like a rough draft…’ 

Tsubasa: ‘Waah, how beautiful! As expected of Ryuji-kun. This colour scheme… It is already perfectly charming. What kind of story is it?’ 

Ryuji: ‘Ehm… It’s a tale that begins when the protagonist obtained a big jar with multicolored candies in a candy shop. Those candies had a mysterious power, and the moment he put one in his mouth, he leapt to an unknown place. At first he was surprised but he quickly realized the candies’ magic and started to travel.’ 

Ryuji: ‘To a tropical island, an amusement park, the universe… Because of the time he was able to go to places he wanted, he became lost in it. Keeping it a secret from his parents, he enjoyed his exciting trips. He sometimes fights with pirates and saves the caught dragons.’

Tsubasa: ‘Fufu, it is big adventure.’ 

Ryuji: ‘Yeah. However… One day he suddenly sensed a feeling of loneliness. Because he is always alone, no matter where he goes, what he does, there is no companion to share his memories with. If only his parents or friends were there it would be a lot more fun…’

Ryuji: ‘Thereupon, he thought about a strategy. What about melting all the remaining candies into one big candy? What if everyone tastes it, wouldn’t he be able to travel together with everyone? Then immediately, he took out the biggest pot at home and rushed to the biggest restaurant in the street. There, he borrowed their stove and melted the leftover candies together… A big big candy of various colours came out.’

Ryuji: ‘He quickly called everyone and have them taste the big candy. And that’s the story of how everyone is able to travel together.’ 

Tsubasa: ‘Ah, a Happy Ending! Such a lovely and fun story…! It was not only exciting but also wonderful how the growth of the protagonist was depicted, I think. Rather than enjoying fun things alone, you want to share them with someone. Isn’t this perfect as well for this charity’s intent?’ 

Ryuji: ‘I agree. It’s because I listened to Tsubasa’s talk, thank you.’ 

Tsubasa: ‘You don’t have to…! I’m looking forward to the form of the current story.’

Ryuji: ‘Yeah. But, there is one thing I’m worried about… The image I have in mind for the big candy at the end are Choppa Charos, though isn’t it problem? I’m going to draw it as an ordinary candy on a stick but I think, the shape will be similar after all.’

Tsubasa: ‘Then I will confirm once. Because if you get in trouble later, a wonderful story will be spoiled.’ 

Ryuji: ‘Thanks.’

Part 4

Tsubasa came to KTKR’s apartment to tell Ryuji some good news. He didn’t expect the positive outcome of the talk.

Tsubasa: ‘Ryuji-kun, the manufacturer sent a reply. It seems that the Choppa Charos itself can be included in the picture book!’ 

Ryuji: ‘Eh… really?’ 

Tsubasa: ‘Yes! It looks like they liked the book’s contents.’

Ryuji: ‘Heh, I’m happy… A magic Choppa Charos, huh. So something like a candy that turns things into reality exists. It’s really like a dream.’ 

Tomo: ‘Yeah, I can feel the story coming closer. How nice, right, Ryuji.’ 

Tsubasa: ‘And…’ 

Ryuji: ‘Eh? There is more?’ 

Tsubasa: ‘Yes. To be honest, this talk was a start, that manufacturer decided to be a sponsor for the charity project as well.’

Tomo: ‘Hee… As expected, it’s amazing, Ryuji’s impact.’ 

Ryuji: ‘My impact, I don’t know what that means… It’s something good, right?’ 

Tsubasa: ‘Of course!! According to the manufacturer, it seems that they are thinking about producing a limited flavour and want to donate the earnings to the charity project. For the event, it is planned to hand it out to the children for free.’ 

Tsubasa: ‘This is what I would like to discuss… Ryuji-kun, would you like to try producing that limited Choppa Charos flavour?’

Ryuji: ‘Eh… Production?’

Tsubasa: ‘That’s right. All together, they want to produce an exciting flavor like the candy that appears in this picture book. And wanted to have Ryuji-kun sounded out on this request.’

Ryuji: ‘No way. Me, producing Choppa Charos…’ 

Tomo: ‘Fufu, but it’s without a doubt reality. And… you surely already decided, right?’

Ryuji: ‘Of course! I can’t possibly miss the chance to be involved in making my favourite candy.’ 

Tsubasa: ‘Then I will send them your reply.’ 

Tomo: ‘It seems like Ryuji’s love finally got through. Even during the Bambi period, he always carried it with him.’ 

Ryuji: ‘When I said that, I was a child actor. Because it was my imaginary friend…!’ 

(Fufu, Ryuji-kun, your eyes are sparkling. This time, it is for the sake of the children and the project but… I hope it becomes a meaningful job for Ryuji-kun who had a short childhood.) 

Part 5

Tsubasa: ‘--The new flavour is finally completed.’ 

Ryuji: ‘Yep, finally. Because it was decided that the concept was the candy the young boy made at the end of the picture book, I thought it would proceed more smoothly…’ 

Tsubasa: ‘There were all kinds of obstacles when it came to the production of  the goods, after all. You cannot simply mix all flavours.’ 

Ryuji: ‘But, wasn’t it thanks to the manufacturer’s patience with the prototype that, as the name suggests, the candy has a dreamy taste.’ 

Tsubasa: ‘When you put it in your mouth, the flavour changes,『 Magical Dream Flavour』! Fufu, what an exciting name.’

Ryuji: ‘Not only children, adults too can enjoy it. I aimed for a taste that makes you want to share it with someone. I hope everyone can agree with it. For this sake, I have to give my best during the shooting of the poster.’ 

Tsubasa: ‘You are right. This set as well seems to be designed to fit the candy’s image.’ 

Her comment makes him realize how much detail was put into this project.

Ryuji: ‘True. It’s really elaborated.’

Ryuji: ‘But, what is this cloth in the middle….?’

Tsubasa: ‘Fufu, please take a look.’ 

Ryuji: ‘? Then…’ 

Ryuji: ‘This… A huge objet d’art* of a Choppa Charos!?’

Tsubasa: ‘It seems to be a special order.’

Ryuji: ‘Must be, it’s a first for me seeing something like that! It’s very cute. It really has Magical Dream Flavour written on…!’ 

Ryuji: ‘Say Tsubasa, doesn’t it look edible? If we taste it together, we could go everywhere.’ 

Tsubasa: ‘Fufu.’ 

Her chuckle makes him blush, that was too embarrassing just now. 

Ryuji: ‘Eh? ...! Wait, that was too much. I looked like a kid, right.’

Tsubasa: ‘No, I feel the same too. Because it was always my dream to have a big candy or a pool with orange juice!’

Ryuji: ‘.... A pool with orange juice, what’s that?’ 

Tsubasa: ‘Ehm, did you not long for it? A juice that never diminishes, no matter how much you drink…?’ 

Ryuji: ‘Hee? Tsubasa also has a child-like side.’

Tsubasa: ‘I-I think, everyone has this aspect to them…! Because adults used to be children as well.’ 

Ryuji: ‘Fufu, yeah. That might be true. It’s good to frolic like this once in a while, regardless of your age. Similar to being excited, happy, relaxed, a feeling of happiness….’

Ryuji: ‘If I can make a person feel this much with my picture book and candy, I’m happy.’          

END ________________ *Objet d’art: “literally means ‘art object’ (or work of art) in French, but in practice, the term has long been reserved in English to describe works of art that are not paintings, large or medium-sized sculptures, prints, or drawings. It therefore covers a wide range of works, usually small and three-dimensional, of high quality and finish in areas of the decorative arts [...]” (Source: Wikipedia)

[elisaphoenix13]

TLC

1. Neck grab

Scott was in a mood. Not a good one either. He was extremely frustrated because everything for his current client and project had fallen through one after the other, and he couldn't seem to get a break. The deadline was fast approaching which meant that Scott was getting snarky and snapping at everything, and the moment he started, Quill sent Cassie upstairs. He didn't want the poor girl to become a victim of her father's irritation. Scott was usually really good about ranting on occasion to Quill when work got bad, but in times like these? Scott was a disaster. He lost sleep, yelled at everyone and everything, and all together turned into a nightmare.

At the moment, he was getting himself a glass of water, but the moment he grabbed the cup, it slipped through his fingers. Quill watched in trepidation as the glass fell to the floor and shattered, and Scott stares down at the scattered shards with a blank expression. Not even three seconds later, the blank expression turned into an infuriated one, and the thief actually turned red.

"ONE THING! WHY CAN'T ONE THING GO RIGHT FOR ME?!" Scott screams and Quill jumps into action as his husband starts his rant.

"Baby-" The celestial quickly grabs a towel off the handle of the oven and kneels down to clean up the glass.

"I CAN'T EVEN GET WATER-"

Quill throws the towel in the sink to take care of later when he stands up, and immediately steps close to Scott and gently grabs the back of his neck. The younger thief stops mid rant and sags against Quill when he pulls Scott into his arms, and the anger quickly dissolves into frustrated sobs. The celestial waits patiently for Scott to get it all out, whispering soothing words as he gently rubs his back, and Scott finally falls silent after a few minutes.

"When's the deadline?" Quill asks.

"Three days." Scott mumbles.

"Here's what we're going to do...you're going to take a break for the rest of the night and we're going to watch movies while eating takeout."

"But-"

"Non-negotiable. You need a break and considering that you haven't done much, it won't hurt to take one."

"...okay."

Scott was definitely done with his work if he was agreeing so easily, but they did as Quill suggested. They ate takeout, watched movies, and halfway through the third one, Scott passed out with his head in the god's lap. He was exhausted from the overload of stress, and didn't even stir when Quill ended up carrying him to bed, but the next morning Scott was out of bed earlier than usual. He nearly flew out of Quill's hold with ideas on how to fix the disaster he was calling a project, and left his husband to sigh heavily.

"Good morning to you too Sugar."

2. Galaxy eyes

Sam was the one that interrupted Quill's workout session. He didn't look frantic, but he definitely looked annoyed and it was enough to have the celestial drop down from the bars and grab his towel to wipe the sweat off his face.

"Spacecase...can you please do something about your boy toy?"

Quill raises an eyebrow as he follows Sam to the elevator. "He's not ranting again is he?"

"No, but he and Tony are arguing about something and Mama Bear isn't home to stop it."

The celestial laughs as they take the elevator up to the family floor, and Sam gives the taller man a look when the doors open to the sound of an argument. There wasn't any yelling but it was still a passionate discussion about electrical engineering...and Pym particles? Quill didn't really want to know but he was sure he was going to have to hear it later tonight after putting this argument to a stop.

"Babe." Scott waves in Quill's direction as he continues arguing with Tony. "Scott."

"Later Big Guy. I'm in the middle of a conversation." Was the response and Quill looks at Sam.

"What's the big deal about them arguing?"

Sam snorts. "Last time they had an argument, they went down to the lab. Let's just say there were explosions and Mama Bear was pissed."

"Yeah, okay. I don't want him getting mad at me for not stopping something like that. I got this."

Quill walks a little ways past Scott and stands directly behind Tony. As soon as he's within his husband's eyesight, he allows his galaxy eyes to take over and waits patiently. It only took three seconds. Scott happened to glance up at Quill as he was talking to Tony and he immediately stumbled over his words and turned into a stammering mess. The only thing that managed to escape Scott's mouth was a whimper, and Quill grabs the front of his shirt as he moves away from behind Tony.

"It's time to get you sweaty too."

"Hnn…" Scott wheezes as his husband leads him toward the elevator.

" 'preciate it Spacecase!" Sam yells as the doors close and Tony complains about the interruption.

"Why are you such a brat?" Quill asks.

Scott blinks as he tries to process Quill's question, but he continues to stare up at the galaxy eyes. "What?"

"Nevermind." The celestial sighs.

3. Head tilt and celestial voice/growl

"Cassie wants some pumpk-"

"I swear if you finish that sentence with some weird ass pumpkin flavored food, I'm disowning her and divorcing you for letting her eat it." Quill interrupts and Scott laughs.

"Pumpkin bread mix. She doesn't want to make it from scratch."

Quill huffs and follows his lover through the store until he gets distracted by the men's t-shirts. Scott continues walking away, completely oblivious to Quill's sudden absence, and the celestial grabs a couple of short sleeved shirts. Scott always seemed to react positively to them, and to quote Cassie, his eyes turned into hearts whenever Quill wore something that hugged all of his muscles. Bonus points if his abs showed through.

"Hey babe? What do you think about-" Quill turns to look at Scott but finds the area beside and around him devoid of said man. "Don't mind the maniac talking to himself." The god mumbles to himself as he stalks away with the shirts to find his misplaced husband.

To his annoyance, it actually took longer than he expected, and he was convinced that Scott was moving at the same time he was until he finally found the younger man standing in front of the yogurt. As Quill walks up to him, he notices a woman openly eyeing Scott and growls as his closes the distance to the oblivious man. Scott really didn't know how attractive he was, and Quill's inner possessiveness was rearing its head. As soon as he gets close enough, the celestial grabs Scott's chin, tilts it up, and growls again with a hint of his god rumble before leaning down to kiss him. Scott freezes up in surprise because of the seemingly random celestial growl and because of the open act of possession. In public. It had Scott gently pushing Quill away with a small gasp.

"Not that I'm really complaining...but what was that about?" He pants out and darts his tongue out to lick his lips.

Quill watches the woman skitter away out of the corner of his eye and grins. "Just making a point." Scott rolls his eyes and Quill holds up the shirts before throwing them in the cart. "I'm getting these."

"Fine. Are you eating all of our yogurt?"

"Not all of it. Maybe like sixty percent."

"I believe you because I've seen Cassie eat it too."

Scott turns back to the assortment of yogurt and Quill immediately grabs his was when he notices someone else eyeing them. He wasn't sure if it was him or Scott but either way, he had to make sure they knew they were happily taken.

Scott swivels his head around to look at his husband. "QUILL!"

4. Pinning to a surface or trapping

Scott only had enough energy to take a quick shower before he collapsed into bed. Not only did he do his usual amount of shrinking and growing during battle, but he also had to grow into his giant form twice. Once already had him exhausted, but twice? He was starting to pass out halfway through the second growth, and Quill had to fly up to him and help him shrink back to his normal size and practically shove orange slice candy down his throat. It kept him from passing out, but he was still extremely exhausted and he was out for the rest of the battle. Quill had to move him somewhere relatively safe with more candy, and the rest of the team had to take turns protecting him.

It took a lot of effort just to lift his arm and eat more candy, which gave him the energy to take this shower in the first place. The sugar started to wear off though and Scott had to keep himself up by throwing his hand out and bracing it against the wall.

"Q-Quill…" He whispers.

Scott tries to call out louder so the celestial can hear him, but all he could manage was a shaky exhale. He was going to pass out. He needed to get out of the shower before he did, but any effort to reach out and grab the shower door was imaginary. He never moved. When he finally did lift his arm though, it was grabbed as Quill stepped into the shower and pulled Scott against him.

"Easy. I got you sugar." The god carefully pushes him up against the wall, and Scott's head lolls.

At least now if he did pass out, Quill was there to catch him. He focused on keeping his eyes open as long as possible and enjoy the feeling of being boxed in between the wall and Quill, and barely processed that the taller man was helping him finish cleaning up. All too soon, Quill was moving him away from the wall and back under the spray, and that was when Scott lost consciousness. When he woke up again, he was in bed and naked as the day he was born with only the comforter to cover his modesty. Scott yawns widely, his jaw cracking at the movement and he rubs his eyes before looking around the room.

Quill was nowhere to be seen, and a single glance out the window revealed that it was late afternoon but Scott didn't believe for a second that he only slept for a few hours. He slides out of bed, uses the bathroom, and then pulls on some boxers and pajama bottoms before making his way down to the kitchen. His husband was sitting at the table on his phone while eating a sandwich, and as soon as Scott fell into the chair across from him, Quill pushes his other half of his sandwich over to him.

"Eat that. I'll make you a couple more." The celestial gets up and starts making a few more sandwiches, and Scott bites into the other half drowsily.

"How long have I been asleep?"

"Four days. I actually had to make sure you were still breathing a couple of times because you didn't move at all" Quill informs him as he brings over a couple more turkey sandwiches and puts them on the plate for Scott.

"Damn...sorry about that."

"It's fine. Stephen said that you should eat and take it easy for a day when you wake up."

"No argument here." Scott picks up another sandwich and inhales half of it in the span of a couple of minutes as Quill watches in amusement.

"That's sexy."

"Shut up."

5. Shirtless

Quill steps out of the shower and dries off before stepping back into the bedroom and looking through the dresser. He pulls out some clothes but frowns when he can't find a shirt, and pulls on some boxers and pants before heading out of the room and down to the kitchen. He finds Scott talking on the phone with his back to him and putting away dishes that he's drying, and Quill tilts his head to try and figure out who his husband is talking to.

"Everything's fine Maggie. If you're so worried, why don't you call her?" Scott pauses with a frown and it quickly gets replaced by a sigh. "She and Peter are probably still at the theater-no. Tony's kid. Nobody calls Quill by his first name. Not even me." Quill smirks when he sees Scott's blush reach the tip of his ears. "Don't remind me. Anyway, just text her and have her call-"

Scott turns to grab a few more plates and freezes when he gets a perfect view of Quill's bare chest. He open and closes his mouth like a fish for a few moments and then finally tells Maggie he'll talk to her later before hanging up and putting his phone back in his pocket.

"Well since I have your attention…" Quill starts with a grin. "Have you seen my tank tops?"

"U-um...I think Cassie said something about the laundry being in the dryer." Scott stutters out and watches the god walk into the laundry room to grab a tank top to throw on.

When Quill walks back into the kitchen, he notices the slight disappointment on the younger's face, and smirks. A quick stretch reminded Scott that his arms were still out in full view, and he watches the disappointment quickly turn into arousal.

"So what was that all about?" He asks and Scott blinks as he processes Quill's question.

"What?"

"Weren't you talking to Maggie?"

"She was asking about Cassie."

"Oh. Cass will call her back-"

"Take it back off." Scott whispers as he rounds the counter and grabs the bottom of Quill's top.

"Demanding."

He didn't bend to Scott's wishes though. Quill just dragged him over to the living room and sat on the couch, and Scott sat next to him to touch whatever exposed skin he could. He still quietly pleaded for Quill to take his tank top back off, and the older man finally relented after another ten minutes of those cute little pleas. Scott always enjoyed skin contact and being able to trace his hands and fingertips across sharply formed muscles.

"You're so easy to please." Quill teases as he pulls Scott down into a kiss.

"I get to touch something that no one else gets to. Can you blame me?"

"Nope. I know exactly how that feels because of you."

+1. Daddy

It was another drinking night. Clint, Natasha, Sam, Stephen, Tony and Scott were drinking, others were just there for the company. They had their typical drinking games and story swaps, but it didn't take long for Stephen and Scott to get wasted. Scott was the first to go down. He was lonely because Quill was currently out in space and jumped at the chance to spend time with the team.. Not that he was much company to begin with.

He laid his head on the coffee table and stayed like that until someone made a passing comment (on purpose) about who the better lover was when it came to Tony and Quill. That started another one of Stephen and Scott's famous drunk verbal arguments that most everyone found hilarious.

"You're just jealous because I have a god and you don't." Scott says with a smirk and Stephen releases a miffed huff.

"Tony doesn't need to be a god to keep me satisfied."

"Thanks babe." The engineer says from the couch.

"Quill doesn't need to be either. It's just a plus." Scott challenges and Stephen narrows his eyes.

"Everyone knows you're a cock slut. You don't need to keep reminding us." Stephen snarks.

"Pillow princess!"

"It takes one to know one!"

Everyone chokes on their drinks when the insults escalate faster than usual but before Tony can say anything to at least calm Stephen down, the elevator doors open. Quill steps onto the floor and Scott abandons his argument with the sorcerer to jump across the coffee table, and Quill's eyes widen when the younger thief jumps into his arms and wraps himself around the pirate.

"Missed you." Scott mumbles and the celestial chuckles.

"Missed you too. How much have you had to drink Sugar?"

"A lot."

"Guess I have some catching up to do. I need a drink anyway."

"But Daddy-" The thief whines into the god's ear and Quill clears his throat.

"Nope! That's later when you aren't in danger of puking."

Scott grunts in feigned annoyance as his husband carries him back to the others and sits on the ground. The younger didn't make any move to detach himself from Quill, so the space pirate was stuck with Scott in his lap. Quill wasn't actually planning on getting drunk, but he did need a couple of drinks after the month in space he had, and after his second shot, Scott had passed out against him. Stephen was given a teddy bear and had passed out himself with his head in Tony's lap, and everyone returned to their games and conversations now that the amusing argument was over.

"Hey Porcupine...you better put the baby to bed." Tony teases and Quill rolls his eyes as he effortlessly stands with Scott still wrapped around him.

"That's the plan. Hopefully he doesn't paint my shirt."

"He mentioned he likes you without shirts anyway."

Quill turns and walks over to the elevator. "Yeah I bet he did. Good night assholes."

[unmanageable-day]

No longer

Pt.1; Pt.2; Pt.3

Genre: drama/angst (maybe???)

When you’re on a so-called break with your (ex-)boyfriend!Taeil, and your friend!Doyoung is slowly—and subtly making his way up to a higher position in your life rather than just being a friend.

That weekend, you had to cancel Sooyoung's invitation to a spa day because Doyoung showed up in front of your door, holding a ticket for the concert of Cho Kyuhyun. You weren't sure how to respond to the free ticket. You were a big fan, but so was Taeil. The chance to meet him there was pretty big. It was impossible for Doyoung not knowing this. But maybe it was just his good intention because he knew how much you liked Kyuhyun. In the end, eventually you said yes to the free concert ticket. A part of you was enthusiastic to finally be able to listen to Cho Kyuhyun’s live singing, yet another part of you was somewhat restless knowing that Taeil would 99.99% be there too. And a part of your brain was conscious of that the idea of going with Doyoung probably was not a wise idea if you knew you were so going to meet an ex-boyfriend. Or boyfriend—who was not a boyfriend at the moment.

You and Doyoung arrived at the venue 1 hour earlier. You decided to wait in a coffee shop around there. While Doyoung had to leave to the bathroom, the most expected thing eventually happened. You bumped into Taeil. It was nothing surprising but apparently you still didn't know what to say first. You weren't even sure what kind of expression you should put on your face.

"Jena," he greeted first.

"Oh, Taeil.." You flashed him a little smile, as you noticed his effort to show a sincere smile to you. Probably he was the one who got surprised to see you there.

Both of you let some seconds pass in a complete silence between you, before he finally continued speaking. "I texted you last week. I was wondering when is it okay for you to..."

The smile on your lips started to fade away. Instead your face was so full of question marks. "Text? Last week?"

"Yeah. Did you receive it?"

You slowly shook your head. "I'm afraid I don't. My phone experienced a rough accident, thanks to Doyoung."

"Did somebody call my name?" He suddenly popped out.

You turned to him for a second just for him to know you recognize his presence there, then turned back to Taeil. Taeil did the same. And he didn't even say hi to his friend. He seemed to instantly get it that you came there with Doyoung.

"Why Doyoung?" Taeil asked, not believing his own ears.

"He mistook my phone, took it and somehow it slipped from his hand to a fish pond." You were calm and almost showed no specific expression. While beside you Doyoung apologized playfully. But you didn't really pay attention to him.

"You were with Jena last week?" He sharply asked Doyoung.

"Yeah. We got deadlines."

"But you're not in the same project."

"Well, the project became a joint project. Last minute decision. Not our call."

"Is it important?" you asked Taeil, interrupting and ignoring Doyoung who looked like he was willing to tell the whole story of how the joint project was made.

"Sorry. What?" Taeil mentally snapped at himself. He lost consciousness for a second because he found it hard to believe in whatever Doyoung said.

"Your message. Is it urgent?" you asked again.

Taeil's eyes were on you, but he could sense Doyoung's sharp eyes darting at him. He remained silent for a moment, hesitating whether he should blurt it out or not because you were with Doyoung. "No, I'll just text you again."

You nodded. After that you parted ways although you had the same ticket color for the concert. You could have just entered the venue and picked standing spots not far away from each other. But of course, you didn’t. To be more precise, Taeil walked away and Doyoung too pulled you gently to a corner that according to him, it was good enough to see the singer. However, it was difficult for you to not take a glimpse at Taeil’s position.

Kyuhyun had been your and Taeil's favorite singer. Whenever you had a date at home, Kyuhyun's songs would linger in loudspeaker all day long. Sometimes Taeil would sing along too. This concert was something you had been anticipating as you two promised to watch it together. But now everything was different.

Song after song, you seemed to unable to divert your sight towards Taeil who was standing way further in the front row. Even in this crowd, you can still clearly see him. When the song Aewol-ri played, he finally turned his head, found you and looked at your direction. Your eyes met with each other.

“If I said I love you If I said I want to meet you If I said I miss you You will just gradually escape from me During the stormy days I am been left alone in this love I am afraid if I tell you I love you You will just escape from me Therefore today will still be the same quietness”

You didn't even blink. So did he. You couldn't tell what kind of expression you had right now while locking your gaze at him. You couldn't tell either what was on his mind, and not sure what kind of face was that. Was he sad? Was he happy? Was he ...lost?

Suddenly your view was blocked. What you saw wasn't Taeil's figure anymore but it was Doyoung's upper body. For one moment, you completely forgot that Doyoung was with you.

"Jena, I've been calling your name," he shouted to you. His protective hands reached your upper arms.

Slightly feeling disoriented, you looked up at him—and his concerned expression. “Oh, sorry. I wasn’t listening. This place is too crowd.” You tried to peek towards Taeil’s direction again, but Doyoung didn’t even get out of your sight.

[kaibutsushidousha]

Artbook Data - Writer Team Interview

I really saved the best for last with this one. This interview was a wild ride, with at least two big pieces of fandom common knowledge being proven wrong.

Interviewees:

Yoshinori Terasawa: The producer for the Danganronpa series. Tasked with the challange of organizing this ragtag band of weirdoes while fighting schedule and budget. This time his title on the credits changed.

Kazutaka Kodaka: The writer, and one of the series’ creators. He created this game in paralell with writing scripts for the anime. Also experienced in writing novels and manga.

Takayuki Sugawara: Involved with the series’ development since the first game. For V3, aside from giving the order for the game to happen and offering many ideas, he also wrote all the secret lie routes for the Class Trial.

Shun Sasaki: This game’s director. Kodaka’s right-hand man, with the important role of transmitting Kodaka’s thoughts to the staff. The many bonus modes were all made at Sasaki’s idea. 

The inital theme was going to be Psychoamerican, with the game being set on a desert!?

Interviewer: It has been a month since the game was released (interview recorded in February 23, 2017), so how much have your thoughts changed since the game’s release?

Kazutaka Kodaka: Not much.

I: Then it must mean everything, including the fan reactions, was just as expected.

KK: Yeah. I was wishing for an unexpected reaction, but everything went just as expected, for better or for worse.

I: How about you, Terasawa?

YT: Kodaka says “just as expected”, but I was thinking the game would be a little bit more well received. You know, when I look at the timeline, I see more critical opinions than I imagined I would.

I: That said, I’m getting the impression that we’re getting more and more positive reviews, compared to how it was immediately after launch.

YT: We’re feeling this too. I’m very thankful that one month after launch, the positive opinion have been getting gradually more vocal.

I: How about you, Sasaki?

SS: Same as Kodaka, no big changes. I'm just still stunned that it’s over.

TS: I’m the opposite of Sasaki. We’ve always finished Danganronpa on the edge of the deadline, but this one we were REALLY improving everywhere we could until the very last second. I feel like the production is still not over even now. Maybe we’re all lying when we said we made it in time (laughs).

I: Was V3 really this hard? When did the project start?

KK: It was late into Ultra Despair Girls’ production. Sugawara called me about a new project and ...

I: So it was Sugawara, not Terasawa.

KK: For some reason, he never calls me directly. Always has someone relaying his message to me. Then me and Sugawara started coming up with some content and wrote the project pitch. It was completely different from what’s now.

YT: It was going to be set in a desert.

I: A desert!? Do deserts have schools?

KK: The design theme at the time was Psychoamerican, so we thought it should be in a desert.

YT: If I recall right, it was going to be a desert where a Future Foundation was stranded...

KK: And so we made the project pitch with loads of American-ish stuff, like Vegas neon lights. I can’t remember much of the details.

YT: But even back then, Kodaka already had the game’s direction and that ending in mind.

I: So the ending idea stayed the same through the how development cycle. Was it Terasawa or Sugawara who asked you to make the V3 project?

KK: It was more the company itself than Terasawa. 

YT: Yeah. I was the one who directly asked for it, but the very company was pointing out that it was about time for a new number Danganronpa sequel. At the time, the DR:AE development cycle was approaching its climax, so everyone was at the mood of “What are making next?” and the next cycle started very naturally.

I: I see. Then, was moving away from the Kibougamine series also decide from the beginning?

KK: Yes. No one ever considered continuing the Kibougamine series with V3.

TS: The Future Foundation ship I mentioned earlier would be set up as the ship from the DR2 ending for a twist of “haha, it was a different ship all along”. It was a red herring planned to draw the fans’ interest. 

I: And why did you change settings?

KK: We all know DR1 and 2 follow each other chronologically as the Kibougamine series, but at first I never said they did. When I say from the start that it’s a sequel, the fans start expecting characters from the previous games. But personally I’m not a fan of having a previous survivor in the killing game, having to experience the murders, investigations and Class Trials all over again. I thought that when I made the next numbered title I should reboot the setting and characters.

I: Let me get this right, all you had defined back at the project pitch stage was doing a reboot and the story’s ending. Yes?

TS: Yeah. We didn’t have a concrete idea of how we would present the ending, but it we were settled on the direction that it was something that would make the player part of the plot. 

I: And how exactly did lies, one of the game’s main themes, entered the stage?

TS: We had decided from the start that we would have the lie mechanic. Lying was actually a gimmick I came up with for DR2 and I really wanted the chance to include it for real in a next game.

I: Any other elements decided from the start?

KK: I think we decided the true meaning of “V3” in our first discussion. Did we? I vaguely recall we see saying it would be clever if V3 actually meant 53.

I: I agree, I was impressed when I played it!

KK: It’s just the part that the first game were also fictional in-universe and that V3 was the 53rd Danganronpa game that we came up with later. At the time we just though of the initial clever curveball. This was back before we had the idea to make the DR3 anime. We went with the name V3 just for this joke, then later we thought “If this is DRV3, the anime should be DR3”.

I: The game was decided first, huh. And how exactly did the “New” and the “Everyone’s Killing Game New Semester” came about?

KK: When we had to present the game for the Sony Press Conference (September 15th, 2015), we thought we should add something before the title, like the Super in Super Danganronpa 2. So we went with “New”.

YT: But for the first logo we wrote “NEW” in English letters.

I: And you already had the subtitle back then.

KK: The subtitle was also put together on a rush for the Sony Press Conference. We basically just added the “Everyone’s” there because the ending was pretty much completely planned at that point.

YT: We need to have these big presentations like the Sony Press Conference, because otherwise we never settle on a title (pained laughter).

The design theme changes to Psychocool! The production finally starts for real.

I: Now I have several questions about the contents of the game. We know you have the decided on the title, then presented the game under the final design theme of “Psychocool”. For what reason did you decide against the “Psychoamerican” theme?

KK: To be honest with you, Psychoamerican was never a design theme I was really serious about...

TS: We just needed something to pitch a project with.

YT: Every good project pitch has a few bluffs on it. 

KK: At the time I was busy with Ultra Despair Girls, so I decided to leave the theme decisions for later. But after watching Sugawara’s presentation at the project meeting, I may have regretted neglecting the subject (pained laughter).

TS: That’s because my project file on the meeting as a blank piece of paper (laughs).

I: (laughs) Suguwara, did you really explain the entire project with a blank paper?

TS: No, each page had a head title. “Scrum Debate” was one, for example. And did the explanations with just that. Judging by the participants’ reaction, the overall tone of the meeting was “What the heck is going on here...?” (pained laughter).

I: And after all these hardships, you settled on the Psychocool theme. What was the deciding factor here?

KK: We started putting some actual thought into it, notice how hard it would be to deal with a desert setting, and decided the American part wouldn’t work. At the time I was considering given a more adult image to it, so we decided on Psychostylish. But we didn’t go very far with this theme, did we?

SS: I don’t think we did.

KK: So, the players who experienced DR1′s Psychopop in their teens grew into adulthood with DR2′s Psychotropical, and now cooled down after their growth... That’s why V3′s theme became Psychocool.

I: So it had a more mature image.

YT: But us changing themes 2 or 3 times before made things hell for the graphics team, since we wouldn’t settle on a direction already.

SS: Because before we decided on the Psychocool theme, the designers had already started working with no design concept. Kodaka already some ideas in mind for a ruined school with growing vegetation and some machines in it, but without any concrete direction, they had to redo their work multiple times.

I: I’ll ask about the design concept in more detail in the designer team interview. The next question is about the story. Is “what could be a lie” something you think about in the earlier plot planning stages?

KK: Include some lie elements back in the plot planning, but there’s nothing that was always meant to be interpreted as a lie. It all started in a project meeting where Sugawara said “I want to use lies”, but without any concrete idea of would that be implemented into gameplay. Later, when I started planning the plot, I was looking back at the project file and the discussion notes, scavenging for content I could use and found that I could use lies to fill the gaps in my plot. And so was born my liar character, Kokichi Ouma.

I: Usually the characters make the plot, but sometimes the plot can make a character.

KK: They are just robots instead of characters, but the same goes for the Exisals. They came from a joke idea told in the project meeting.

TS: We mentioned the Exisal as a mascot replacement for Monokuma. “Next mascot should be a monkey” (laughs).

KK: But not having Monokuma as the mascot feels wrong to me. Yeah, we were rebooting the characters and the setting, but I think changing too much does more harm than good, so I decided to keep Monokuma as the mascot without a second thought.

I: About what you just mentioned about Ouma, did you create all the characters as you were planning the plot?

KK: Yes. I thought 16 was the perfect number of students, as it was in DR2. Before I had any plot, I asked Komatsuzaki for some designs based on his impressions. I was planning the plot as I was receiving the designs and came up with the details along the way, I think.

I: At what point did you decide on the dual protagonist scheme with Kaede Akamatsu and Shuuichi Saihara?

KK: I can’t remember when exactly I decided that it was doable, but I’ve been wanting to do it from very early on. I was thinking that if I could do it, it would make for an awesome chapter 1.

I: The Ikebukuro Namjatown had a poll to guess who would survive. Harukawa was first, Saihara was second and Akamatsu was third, so I thought the fans saw it coming.

KK: I was also weirded out by how high Saihara was, but then I heard about the unfortunate hatless Saihara sprite visible in the PV. Since the ahoge is the symbol of the Danganronpa protagonist, I’m pretty sure this spoiled the twist.

YT: You didn’t notice it when the PV came out?

KK: I didn’t. Sasaki told me about it later and I was like “Oh no, really...?” (laughs).

YT: I see, because it very early on in the video.

SS: It was. What a shame...

KK: That said, a lot of characters were predicted wrong. Our survivor Himiko Yumeno got the very last place.

YT: She reestablished balance.

I: Yeah. Just look at our presented protagonist Akamatsu. While there were a lot of people thinking she was safe because she’s the protagonist, there were also a lot suspecting even the protagonist could die.

KK: I think the majority was predicting Akamatsu would die. But I think that as they watched the PVs and play the demo, a lot of them noticed how we made all the Class Trial assets for her and started thinking “Yeah, of course she wouldn’t die”. At very least, I think not many people predicted she would be executed as the culprit in the Class Trial.

This is how the 16 students watching the new Class Trial were born

I: In this interview for Danganronpa 2, you mentioned that Fuyuhiko Kuzuryuu was supposed to die along the way, but as you were finishing your plot he became a survivor. Did V3 also have a character like Kuzuryuu?

SS: I’m pretty sure no character was changed. Though I vaguely recall we changing the order in which they died as the murder tricks demanded.

TS: When Kodaka was thinking of the murder trick for chapter 1, he asked me “What SHSL should we kill off?”. I answered “Killing the detective would be a shocker”.

KK: For context, I wasn’t too sure if it was ok for Saihara to be the Super High School Level Detective. Because Detective Saihara would mean a protagonist title ripping off Kyouko Kirigiri’s. But I ultimately accepted the idea of him being a detective.

I: I see. So this didn’t have any big changes like DR2 had. Was there any student talent or character trait that you decided on based on their murder tricks?

KK: I always plan the characters and the tricks at the same time. And this time I planned part of the tricks along with Kitayama. Whenever we discussed, I just told him “This is the culprit, this is the victim and this is the type of case I want” and he would come up with the details for me. Otherwise none of us would know what to do with his murder tricks.

I: If any other character had their characterization changed along the way, like you said Ouma did, tell us about it.

KK: I changed Harukawa’s title after seeing the finished desing. I kept her title as Super High School Level Child Caregiver, but made her actually an assassin.

SS: I remember you going with Bounty Hunter Harukawa before you changed it to Assassin.

KK: You’re right. She looked so out of the ordinary in that illustration that I thought she would work out as assassin and changed it, if I recall right. I tend to change my plot points a lot, so that’s why it’s always better to do all part of my work at the same time.

I: Is Kodaka always this nonchalant when talking about major plot changes?

SS: Yeah, he just comes out of nowhere and “I made Harukawa an assassin”.

TS: The script still wasn’t finished at the time, so even I didn’t know the reason for the change, I could say is “Really?” (laughs).

SS: Though I like her a little better as an assassin than as a bounty hunter.

I: Yeah, that’s not a situation where you can say “no” for no reason (pained laughter). By the way, Ouma and Harukawa are super popular. Did you expect them to this many fans?

KK: Sure, Harukawa got a lot of attention on the first teaser visual, and she’s a tsundere character very easy to understand, so I thought she would be popular. And Ouma is remarkably “Danganronpa”. When he is doing so much work to get things his way and getting many big scenes in the process, it’s no surprise he would get popular.

I: I think Kaito Momota got even more big scenes than he did. Not to mention his story role was pretty important.

KK: Momota was a character I was much more unoptimistically hoping to be popular. Because in the previous games I never had any characters as super friendly as him and Gonta Gokuhara. When I was writing the script, Sugawara or Sasaki told “This cast is our tightest group of friends so far”. Now that I think about it, I guess this strongly influenced my decision to put Momota as the leader. Byakuya Togami from DR1 would be constantly on the edge if he was there.

I: He sure would (laughs). Opposite question now, what character did you think was less popular than you thought they would be?

YT: Less than expected? I guess Ryouma Hoshi? Just my personal opinion though, I understand it’s because he died too soon.

KK: A lot of people I know love Hoshi. 

TS: I know lot of Hoshi fans too.

KK: To me, the most unexpectedly unpopular character was Korekiyo Shinguuji, not Hoshi. I mean, his uniform is awesome and his unstable relationship with his sister feels like a classic underground movie. Shinguuji is one of my personal favorites and I thought he would be popular. But the people playing the game called him “gross” (pained laughter).

I: Shinguuji, one-of-a-kind as he is, he’s really not for everyone.

KK: Meh, whatever, I don’t wriite characters trying to make them popular. Be it for Momota or for Shinguuji, I was thinking I would personally love if they became popular but that was not the goal. In fact, the only character I wrote with the popularity polls in mind was Miu Iruma, and the goal there was to get her the last place! I think this gave her strong character quirks, not mention that trying to make everyone popular makes the cast weird and lacking in variety. 

I: I see. Speaking of Shinguuji, I felt that while his motive was quite unrelatable, most of the other students had sympathetic motives. Was that on purpose?

KK: For the motives, I was just trying to avoid a repeat of what happened with Mikan Tsumiki. Yeah, I know Shinguuji’s was close. But this time most of the motives were based on their murder tricks. The first thing I did was give a definite theme for each murder trick: chapter 1 is the protagonist being the culprit, chapter 2 was a fusion of murder trick and magic trick, chapter 3 was a new death during the investigation, chapter 4 was the culprit not knowing that he is the culprit, and chapter 5 was the culprit and the victim working together. That makes chapter 2 the only outlier. I just really wanted to use the twist that Kirumi Toujou was the Prime Minister. I also absolutely wanted to have piranhas in my story (laughs). 

I: (laughs) Another big difference I notice is that I couldn’t predict the culprits based on the murder tricks.

KK: That part was very intentional. I really didn’t want any moments of “I don’t know the trick, but the culprit is this guy” the best I could. Chapter 3 was easy to figure out, but I think chapter 2′s clever hooks did a lot better.

Kodaka is Barack Obama!? The personality felt by Megumi Hayashibara.

I: Sayaka Kanda voicing Akamatsu was a highly discussed topic. How exactly did you decide that?

KK: The initial was to have (non-voice) actors playing the role of the two protagonists. After many twists and tuns, we had only Kanda voicing Akamatsu.

YT: She had a great performance as Junko Enoshima in Danganronpa THE STAGE. I invited her to the Akamatsu with high expectations, not only because she obviously a very talented actress, but also because she is so associated with Junko Enoshima that it would give the fans a lot to speculate about. 

I: Another big surprise was the other protagonist Saihara being Megumi Hayashibara. Hayashibara is not someone most people would imagine voicing a boy...

KK: Hayashibara was my personal request. It looked difficult at first, but ultimately she accepted it. She might have been initially wary but then felt it was okay because she shares a lot of history with Ogata and Takayama, who voiced the previous protagonist.

I: I see. Not that you mention it, in a previous interview Hayashibara made a comment about you: “He’s like President Obama”. She didn’t elaborate on that, so please tell us why!

KK: When we were recording chapter 6, Hayashibara asked me “Does Danganronpa always ends like this?”. I answered “It’s not always like this.” and the conversation continued from there. After I created Danganronpa, many other stories with death games started appearing. I know death games are exciting and easy to employ, but so many of them didn’t think their endings through or were just the using the game as a sadistic system to kill characters. Then, as I was analyzing what it means to “truly escape the death game”, I reached the conclusion that it’s the characters upsetting the death game itself. As I explained to her how I made that ending because I had to take responsibility for creating Danganronpa, Hayashibara said “Wonderful!”...

I: And where does President Obama come in? 

KK: Hayashibara talked about one time when President Obama dismantle bomb facilities in the US to say “It’s important to take responsibility for what you make”, so I answered “Then I’m Obama?” (laughs).

I: (laughs) What a conversation.

KK: Hayashibara seemed to be very convinced by this explation, seeing how she put even more power into her chapter 6 performance.

I: Saihara’s chapter 6 voice acting was indeed on fire. Speaking of chapter 6, I was really surprised by the twist of having the DR1 and 2 characters there. Was that decided from the start?

KK: I didn’t even considered it when I was planning the plot. The idea came to me only when I started writting chapter 6′s script.

YT: That’s pretty late into the process.

KK: I was thinking that just Tsumugi Shirogane’s cosplays would be too weak to express the mastermind’s threat level. As I was thinking on how could I make her a character on par with Enoshima, since the ending was going to be that, I had my epiphany: “She should cosplay every character before her!”. And if I want a perfect cosplay, I would need the real voices. When I talked to Terasawa about how awesome she would be if she could cosplay even voices, and how much of a visual punch it would be to have all previous characters, his reaction was “Wait a minute...”.

I: I can see how he wouldn’t be ready for that.

KK: I was doing the recordings for the DR3 anime at the time, so I was naive enough to believe asking for just a couple additional lines would be enough.

YT: Life is not that easy (laughs).

I: (laughs) But everything worked at the end.

KK: I have to admit, I did some emotional blackmail there. Saying “I already started the script, I can’t go with any other twist now”. I had already resigned to the fact that we couldn’t have everyone, but in the end, the entire cast came to the recordings.

I: Impressive work, Terasawa.

YT: After Kodaka’s blackmail, I had to do my part, too. The result was splendid and very meaningful to the game, but we can’t use that in promotional material, so, from a cost efficiency standpoint, it was really bad (pained laughter).

KK: But one problem I would want to fix if I had a chance is how this made her total dialogue really long. I could have made it all a lot more concise, but you know, leaving one character with only two lines who be such a waste.

I: That said, I think the result was splendid. Just as you wanted, it made Shirogane a lot more awesome, in my opinion. On the topic of Shirogane, was making Super High School Level Cosplayer the mastermind talent decided from the start?

KK: Yes. The mastermind being a cosplayer came first from that ending punchline where she asserts that their entire world is part of her cosplay. Also because I really wanted to have a cosplayer character somewhere.

The Love Hotel was born from a cancelled game mechanic!?

I: Our next topic will be the setting and the special scenes. Starting from how the Kibougamine Academy was rebooted into the Saishuu Academy. Tell us how the academy was created.

KK: I think didn’t put any school name on the project pitch. The thing is, V3 is a project initiated under the idea of being something of a culmination of the series, of putting an end into everything, so we went with the name Saishuu, which carries the nuances of both “final” and “talents being locked up”. Another neat detail I only noticed now is that it’s kanji form is pretty easy to write (才囚).

I: You’re praising yourself too much (laughs).

KK: I love Saishuu Academy’s name, but I like its emblem just as much. The design includes a subtle prisoner aesthetic and a Monokuma. Though I wonder, how will the localization handle this? (pained laughter).

I: That’s a good question (laughs). Then, how was the academy’s design decided?

KK: I only asked them to make the wall. The wall was my utmost priority.

TS: I remember that this wall got its birdcage style because I suggested to include a jail or birdcage motif. V3′s school has a prison atmosphere, but prisons still have sports grounds and whatnot, you know? Because of this, we decided to make the Saishuu Academy with explorable areas outside the school building.

I: The Saishuu Academy has a lot of strange areas. A casino is already bad enough, but it has even a love hotel...

KK: Whose idea was the love hotel again?

SS: It was based on Sugawara’s idea of nighttime raids, from the project pitch.

TS: Oh yeah, at the time we had a set rule where you could only solve the academy’s mysteries at nighttime. The idea was to explore the academy at night and investigate the mysteries, but you could also peek into the students’ rooms.

YT: Yeah, I was thinking of making an investigation game like this. 

KK: The problem was that this was going to make the game too lenghty, so we left the parts where you enter the students’ for dialogue as the Love Hotel.

SS: Yeah, and since we thought it would be nice to have an element where you can flirt with the characters, they became those erotic scenes...

I: I see (laughs). Did you write the Love Hotel scenes, Kodaka?

KK: I gave the Love Hotel scenes to a substitute writer. Except their version were really not acceptable, so I had to rewrite them myself (pained laughter).

I: What an interaction to have. Enough about character scenes. We also had many new secret routes in the Class Trials.How exactly were these secret routes created?

SS: The secret routes exist because we wanted to incorporate the Lie Bullet into the story, not only the gameplay. But lying is something we kind of needed to convince most players to do. You know, we needed to add moments where the player would want to lie. And all thanks to Sugawara, we could do it.

I: You wrote the secret routes, didn’t you, Sugawara?

KK: I was too busy with everything else. Since already had semi-done scripts for the proper route, I let Sugawara have his ideas based on that.

TS: That said, I was also piled up with other jobs, so I had other developers do some bits, like pointing me out where I could lie. Some pointers I followed straight, while others I had to rethink. I tried to include as many secret routes as I could, but this was a work I couldn’t get done in time for the voice recordings.

I: I think making secret routes is hard even when the proper route script is complete...

TS: It was relatively easy to make the new content for the secret routes. The difficult is how to get back to the original route.

KK: I tried not to touch on Sugawara’s scripts too much, but I did edit some character word choices or some parts where the topic got too long.

I: How did the fans react to the secret routes?

KK: I didn’t hear much about it.

YT: I often check Twitter for fan opinions, but that’s never really tweeted about.

TS: I think a lot of people don’t notice where they can lie to get a secret route. I did make them change the song for the Debate where you can do Perjury, but that’s not listed or hinted in any tutorial, so...

KK: Not to mention it’s a really minor change, so I find it pretty difficult to notice on your first go.

The mystery novelist Kitayama adds even more well polished murder tricks

I: Since we are talking about Class Trials, I would like to ask about the murder tricks. First, tell me how Kitayama joined the party.

KK: Once I knew I would have to work on this and the DR3 anime at the same time, I thought I would have to ask someone for help, since the time I would have on the scripts would shorten. I thought that if I could smoothly get all the murder tricks decided, I could handle both scripts just fine, but unfortunately the discussion went for much longer than I expected. In the end I didn’t gain any time from all this, but thanks to Kitayama joining me, we boast higher quality.

I: How was your work?

KK: I told Kitayama the trick themes for each chapter and had him come up with the howdunnit. With that, Sugawara and Sasaki’s developer team can plot out the trick, then I check it all and put it together as the script. 

I: Was there anything big you had to fix?

KK: Depends on the chapter. For chapter 1 I pretty much used Kitayama’s idea exactly as it was. Even the “I tossed away what I was holding” descriptor was left exactly as Kitayama wrote it. On the other hand, chapter 2 was very different from the initial draft. 

SS: The chapter 2 trick was the water slider instead of the ropeway using the floating tube, right?

KK: Yeah, that one. Lining up a lot of floating tube to make the corpse slide on them. Then she would only have to cut the rope connecting them and that would leave just countless floating tubes on the pool. I fought finding the tubes during the investigation would be a fun idea, but when it came the time to script it, I got a lot questions. “Is this really enough water pressure to make a corpse silde?”. “Won’t she get wet from the water on the gaps between tubes?”. “Are sure the corpse can enter the fish tank?”.

YT: I’m a physics major, so this bothers me a lot. One little detail like this can ruin the whole case for me, so I made sure to comment everything I noticed.

KK: Yeah, so I had to change to the whole water slider trick into a ropeway trick. Sasaki, you’re the one who argued the most against this, weren’t you?

SS: I was (laughs). I had to plot the trick for chapter 2. So when Kodaka told me “The water slide won’t work”, I was like “Really...?”.

I: The script is where you start to notice the problems.

KK: More exactly, the plotting stage doesn’t put all that attention to detail. Because the workload for plotting a trick as a lot bigger than it sounds. And we’re definitely not gaining any time if I happen to see plans before they’re ready...So, the issues only start showing up when I’m doing the script.

SS: In chapter 2, even my idea to gather all the students together, the Insect Meet-and-Greet, caused some back-and-forth.

KK: Yes, I let the developer come up with the finer details, like for example the reason why all students gathered together. So, for this one I was like “What’s an Insect Meet-and-Greet even supposed to be?”.  Then he explained to me that the group would be assembled to look at Gonta’s insects, but I still had no idea why they would do that. I still wanted to do it, it was a fun idea, so I implemented Gonta’s Insect Meet-and-Greet on the form of Gonta kidnapping the students under Ouma’s orders.

I: Do you have any other case of struggles to connect a trick’s dots?

KK: Chapter 3, handled by Sugawara, also took a lot of time.

TS: I used Kitayama’s idea for the main trick using the seesaw, but we needed to change all the steps that lead to the crime, and that was the time consuming part. 

KK: Oh yeah, we changed the seance ritual.

TS: At first, the trick was that the students would all hold hands and sing Kagome Kagome together, while the culprit would stomp the floorboard. But if that were the case, when the culprit stomped the floorboard, the people holding his hands would feel the movement, you see...

I: And that’s why you had to edit. Next is chapter 4, how was it?

KK: Chapter 4 also had a murder trick by Kitayama, but it was a trick using a rope. Since we changed chapter 2 into the ropeway, that would make chapter 4′s a repeat. While we were thinking of how to make a ropeless trick, one the developers gave the looping world idea, so I created the trick using the loop.

I: Chapter 4′s trick was an idea that made a really good use out of the game world. Was there any reason to change the characters’ visual into the chibi models?

KK: I was born because we wanted to make a game inside a game. At first, we wanted to make a fully 3D world.

YT: You were calling it “VR”, weren’t you?

TS: But then its main gimmick became the loop trick, so we had to give up because a loop would be too hard and far too costly to portray in 3D. 

SS: We also considered using the bonus modes’ 8-bit sprites, but the consesus what that those were too visually unimpressive, so we made new ones, if I recall correctly.

KK: Also because to make the trick work we need to make the game in 2.5D, not 2D. Most of us thought it would be difficult to use the 8-bit sprites under that circumstances.

I: And for the chapter 5 trick, the twist where the victim and the culprit were in cahoots was very original, and I honestly couldn’t tell which of them was the culprit until the very end.

YT: That one is the hardest to figure out.

KK: I’m glad I could put the Exisal to good use in the 5th trick, with the victim and the culprit switching places. Also, I loaded chapter 5 with a large amount of information to distract you from the truth, so you being confused about it is exactly what we wanted.

The feelings imbued in the shocking finale. And an intriguing plan for the future!?

I: From this part on, I will be asking about the controversial chapter 6 and your plans for the future. I was told that when you were writting the chapter 6 script you added many extra animations and cutscenes of the school being destroyed. 

KK: At the plot planning stage, the only thing I had planned for chapter 6 was the endgame. Only when I actually reached that part in the script that I saw I didn’t know how lead the path to that. In DR2 I prepared some surprises to thrill the fans, like Kibougamine Academy appearing and whatnot. I wanted this game to have an element like this. And that’s when I arranged a meeting with all of Sasaki’s developers. I said “I put Kibougamine in DR2′s finale, so now I want V3 to have a set up as good as that”.

SS: Everyone agreed we should have one, of course.

KK: And that’s where I suggested we should explode Saishuu Academy. With Ki-bo appearing to help us around at the tightest moments, fighting the Exisals and all that. I talked with Sasaki’s team to ask if they could do it, they said “I think we can” and I answered “Nice” (laughs).

I: (laughs) That said, I think that was hard on who was managing the budget and schedule...

YT: You get me. There was suddenly a lot more to make.

KK: But we weren’t behind on the deadlines, were we?

SS: That’s right, we weren’t.

YT: That’s not how it works! (laughs)

Everyone: (laughs)

I: Chapter 6 had a lot more animated cutscenes too, hadn’t it?

KK: I wasn’t expecting that. You know that scene where Ki-bo first appears, flying to the glass? I was think that was going to be just some CG, not a fully animated cutscene. So it was a good surprise, like “Are you really making him this cool? Thank you!”.

YT: And his cutscene was quite a long one, at that.

SS: A CG would be too weak and unconvicing for this. We decided we should have this animated to give it the impact it deserved.

I: And I assume the same goes for all the add cutscene. Was the idea of slapping away the block-pathing debris conceived and added for the same reason? 

SS: It was. Honestly, there was so much more we wanted to do but didn’t have time to...

KK: To be completely honest, I was thinking chapter 6 was going to be a lot more visually simplistic than that. But once we started we didn’t want to stop. I’m glad the finished version is this much better than I imagined.

I: Speaking of chapter 6, can I ask Kodaka to explain the ending? 

KK: I went with that ending because I wanted to change where the player stands in V3. In 1 and 2 the player was an outside observer to the killing game. But in V3 I wanted the player to experience the same shock as Saihara and take part in the debate from the same position as him. Then, as Saihara is shocked to learn “This world was fictional. The Akamatsu and Momota I believed in were all fiction”, the player would also be hit with the fact “Everything I played so far is fictional”. But it’s a fact that everything you played so far still resonated with you and you gained a lot from it, so I was hoping you could synchro yourself with Saihara and take his side in the argument after he gets back in his feet. I was thinking that it if the player and the characters could outgrow this fiction, it could even create a new relationship between player and game.

I: I see. So that’s what you were thinking.

KK: I prepared a lot of tricks to make it easier for the player to sync up with Saihara, like Ki-bo’s “Do you want to save?”. Just empathizing with the characters was not enough for chapter 6, I want to share their point of view. That why, to make it harder to insert and emphatize in one specific person, I shuffled the POV with everyone.

I: I think the finale intentionally avoids stating what’s the truth and what is a lie. Do all of you in the production staff share the same answer to this mystery?

YT: Kodaka might have the answer on his mind, but I think we don’t need to know. We don’t even know if we can take everything Kodaka says as correct. See, the real right answer is the answer you came up with yourself.

I: You mean you just want everyone to think of the answer with their own personal interpretations?

YT: Also, I want to take this moments to tell all the fans that we never had the slightest intent to tarnish or insult the past games. We still think of Danganronpa 1 and 2 as our very beloved children. We love all 3 games from the bottom of our hearts.

I: Kodaka said before that V3 is a culmination and an end to everything, but will the Danganronpa series continue?

YT: Like with the first two games, we are completely burned out after finishing it, so, honestly, we don’t have any solid plans for a next game yet. However, as a producer, I want to answer to the fans’ support and expectations. I need to think long and hard about the future of Danganronpa.

I: What could this future be holding for us...?

YT: Who knows. DR1-2 Reload and Ultra Despair Girls will be ported to the PS4 this year, so I think we’ll get many new fans. If something in this trend incites Kodaka’s desire to write, we could be having a new game. Or at least that’s what I expect. I hope our fans expect the same.

I: I’ll be looking forward to it. Now, one message from all of you to the fans.

KK: Thank you for buying this artbook. How about replaying once more now that you know the game better? Or even better, buy another copy of the game and the book!

TS: I think there’s always something of value, be it good or bad, in someone playing a videogame for the first time. So the words I want to say here are the same words of gratitude said since the old days: THANK YOU FOR PLAYING.

SS: I saw a lot of intense critical commentary both for and against this game, so I’m very happy that this game managed to make this many people feel something about it. I believe leaving you wanting to talk about of you felt is one of the more characteristic traits of Danganronpa, so I love that you can enjoy exchanging your opinions.

[precuredaily]

Precure Day 141

Film: Futari wa Precure Splash Star The Movie - Tick Tock! Escape in the Nick of Time! Date watched: 11 July 2019 Original release date: 9 December 2006 Screenshots: https://imgur.com/a/2vJnPUD (over 200 pictures, so enjoy!) Project info and master list of posts: http://tinyurl.com/PCDabout

this is about the closest we get to a movie form

This movie really demonstrates what the series is capable of. The animation is gorgeous, fluid, and very dynamic. The fight scenes have the characters moving all over the place and the character expressions are wonderful. It’s going to be hard for me to go back to the series after this (although I do want to pick up the story of Michiru and Kaoru). There’s so much quality in this, it really proves what you can do with animation. But I’ll elaborate on my thoughts after I put them in context.

The Plot

Saki and Mai are planning to enter a karaoke contest, but Saki oversleeps and is almost two hours late meeting Mai, who has wandered into a nearby clock shop to wait. Saki is annoyed that she wasn't at the meeting point and hurries her along. They take a shortcut across a river, but are stopped by a strange man who inquires about a very old clock. They direct him to the shop they just came from and continue to the contest. However, at the registration desk they're told that they're too late to enter. They apologize and beg to be allowed in, and the staff relents and puts them in the last spot. Saki is happy that everything worked out but Mai reminds her that she was late and that they are only being allowed entry out of kindness. There's some friction developing but they both try to put their best foot forward and continue. They prepare silently in the dressing room, with Saki putting on a monkey kigurumi and Mai dressing as a poodle. Eventually it's their turn to perform, but seeing the crowd gives them massive stage fright and they freeze, silently begging for time to stop.

Then time stops. They take a moment to collect themselves and try to figure out what happened when they see two spirits land near them. They follow the spirits back to the clock shop, where they are transported to the Land of Clocks, and the spirits named Hours and Minutes explain that an evil man stopped the Infinite Clock. Surprise surprise, it's the man who stopped Saki and Mai earlier, who introduces himself as Sirloin from Dark Fall, and they transform into Precure and battle him. Unfortunately, he can keep up with the girls and he even tricks them into attacking each other before he sucks them and all the fairies into a maze.

When the girls regain consciousness they find they've been separated from Moop and Foop, and they argue over whether they should prioritize getting out of the maze or finding the fairies first. They wander around for a while but ultimately they get fed up with each other and Bloom storms off, only to come running back when she hears Egret getting attacked by an Uzainaa. By the time Bloom arrives, however, she can't find Egret, and the monster punches her back across the desert. It turns out Egret was actually nearby but she was trapped behind a disappearing door, unable to call out to her partner or do anything to get her attention before the door faded away and they were separated. Being separated causes their feelings and strength to waver and the two wind up detransforming. 

They wallow in their doubt for a while but Hours and Minutes encourage them to make up with each other, so they each start looking for the other. Saki is yelling Mai's name, and Mai calls back, but their shouting attracts unexpected company: Moop and Foop with a bunch of clock spirits, and the Uzainaa, who swoops in to attack the girls. The monster stops them from transforming but they realize there is a double door on its head: the escape! Saki and Mai each jump to grab a handle, at great personal risk, and the Uzainaa dissolves as everybody is sucked out of the maze and lands back in front of the Infinite Clock, while Sirloin just looks confused.

He commends them for escaping before trying to crush them in a pillar of sand, but Saki and Mai finally come together, hold hands, and apologize to each other. They slowly begin to transform into Cure Bright and Cure Windy as they explain how much they value each other's friendship and declare how, when they're together, they can save everyone and there's nothing to be afraid of! They break free of the sand and fight Sirloin again, and this time they manage to break through his barriers and dodge his attacks, defeating him before embracing each other.... until he transforms into a giant red bull. He yells out that he wants to stop time so he can be alone, but the girls counter that life is more fun together and they won't let him destroy everyone's lives. They perform Spiral Star Splash as he fires his own beam of sand at them, but despite him seeming to have more power, Hours and Minutes contribute their energy, all the clock spirits give strength, and the Infinite Clock itself comes to life as the animals of the zodiac, carved into its border, shine and burst out to surround the Precures. They add their energy to the attack and then they charge Sirloin one by one while the girls yell that even if he's more powerful than them, when they're together, they can do anything, and that's why Pretty Cure is two people! All together they manage to finally destroy Sirloin, and restore the flow of time. The first credits roll past the screen as Hours and Minutes reaffirm their own friendship by holding hands like the Precures, and then Saki, Mai, and their fairies are all instantly transported back to the moment they left as time is fully restored. The music has stopped, so the MCs restart it and Saki and Mai dance to Ganbalance de Dance.

The Analysis

This movie is beautiful in every sense of the word. Beautifully animated. Beautifully written. Beautifully paced (okay maybe that could use a little work...). It shows the truest sense of what Splash Star can be, and that long, non-stock transformation while Saki and Mai talk out their feelings may be one of the best things ever put to film in this franchise. Interestingly, the upgrade in animation means there’s less use of spirit power, as Bloom and Egret fight much more physically than what we typically see in the series. And the motion! The first battle with Sirloin has everybody moving around extremely rapidly, with none of the lag that commonly plagues the show’s attempts at dynamic motion. The final battle is similarly spectacular, with the addition of some creative ways to use the moon and wind powers. Plus, the scene of all the zodiac animals coming out of the clock and aiding the Precures in their attack is really cool! Some of them are only represented very briefly, which makes me appreciate the effort all the more.

There are some moments of less than stellar animation and drawings but those shots are still on the level of an average TV episode.

I adore the message about two people coming together. Obviously, teamwork and partnership are at the root of Precure, but the movies especially give them a chance to shine a light on what it means and why. Despite Sirloin being stronger, the heroines are fighting together! Their bond is their strength, and when they aren’t perfect, when they can’t do something alone, they have help from each other, and help from everyone around them! That’s why Hours and Minutes lend their strength, and all the zodiac animals on the clock appear because of the power of their partnership. Their journey through the film cements this. They had a conflict, it weakened them, but even when they separated, when they were at their lowest, they still cared about each other and wanted to apologize, and that is where they started to rebound and become stronger, strong enough to defeat Sirloin.

I found the plot to be a little uneven. It’s similar to the second Max Heart film in broad strokes: the two girls have a disagreement that causes friction between them, which impacts their ability to fight, they are separated from each other but eventually reunite and make up, and with their resolve now stronger than ever, they overpower the villain, proving that their bond is strong enough to overcome any obstacle. The big differences between the two lie in the approach. MH2 began with a pretty minor offense and there was fairly equal blame to go around, while in Splash Star it’s pretty clear-cut that Saki’s extreme tardiness and subsequent lack of consideration for the burden she imposed on everybody else as a result is the problem, and Mai getting irritated at her for this is perfectly reasonable. It seems like the narrative wants you to say “Saki was late but Mai wasn’t where she was supposed to be so they’re both at fault” but I can’t really agree with that. This doesn’t break the movie, but it affects the perception of the resolution. Instead of Saki apologizing for being late and inconsiderate, they both apologize for their own faults. This is not bad, and it’s true that Mai has some issues to apologize for throughout the film, but treating the two as equal just.... doesn’t quite make sense to me. Saki was almost two hours late to meet Mai, which caused them to miss the deadline to sign up for the event that Saki wanted to do in the first place, and she gets pissy at Mai for not being at the exact meeting point when she finally shows up, and again when Mai reminds her that she inconvenienced the registration folks. Frankly she’s lucky Mai had confidence in her and didn’t just go home.

Additionally, the pacing feels a tad rushed in the middle. This movie is 50 minutes, the shortest of any Precure film period (the Go! Princess triple feature counts as one movie, fight me), when they’re normally about 70-75 minutes. They didn’t necessarily need another 20 minutes, but I think a further 10 minutes exploring the maze (especially separately) might have helped the resolution feel more earned. Them feeling remorseful almost immediately after they sit down and think about their fight makes sense, but have them work harder to reunite! Have them really desperate to find each other for that little bit longer, and it would be better to me.

That being said, there’s a particular sequence I like, when Saki and Mai are walloing in their doubts, they both flash back to the night they met as children at the carnival, but in each of their flashbacks, they are their current age looking down at the younger version of the other, who acts uncertain and runs away, visualizing their fear of separation.

There’s a bit of distortion, like a soft fisheye or something, that really sells the unease.

When I was first getting into Precure back in the early 2010s, the people I chatted with described the Splash Star film as exceptionally gay, and in particular were fond of describing the slow transformation as essentially an open declaration of love. Love is much less of an overt topic in this film compared to the Max Heart films, where Nagisa’s romantic frustrations were at least shown, or outright contributed to the plot. In this movie, Kazuya is only shown once, sitting in the audience with the rest of Mai’s family, and absolutely no allusion is made to Saki’s crush on him. However, is it there beneath the surface? All I can say is that it’s an understandable read of the film. The text of it treats them as good friends who care deeply for each other’s well being, and want to rectify their wrongs to each other. Fundamentally, that’s what love is, but they never quite spell it out to the audience for multiple reasons, so what you’re left with is subtext. After my MH2 review, I had a discussion with @punk-mahoucore who pointed out that the writers gave themselves plausible deniability about the intent of the romantic subtext in that film by the inclusion of a male love interest, so it’s interesting that they don’t even have that here. You can choose to see them as close friends, or as girlfriends, and there’s nothing but heteronormativity to really say you’re wrong.

Veering away from the heavy subjects, I have a few minor things that don’t merit paragraphs of discussion.... starting with Sirloin.

Okay, sure, the movie is probably not canon, because it’s hard to fit it into the quest to revive the Fountain of the Sun, but Sirloin flies in the face of Dark Fall’s objectives, since he wants to stop time for everyone, eternally, and this would undermine Akudaikaan’s rule. It makes much more sense for him to just be a rogue villain as he doesn’t fit in with Dark Fall thematically, aesthetically, or in motivation. I don’t know why they chose to do that. Also, it’s such a silly name, I legitimately laughed out loud the first time they said it in the movie. I wonder if it was meant to be a pun with a title, Sir Loin, like Miss Shitataare. As it stands it’s just a strange name until he reveals his bull form. Also he’s voiced by Aizen from Bleach so that’s neat.

Hours and Minutes are a fun batch of movie-only mascots. They’re a bunch of references in one: Hours is shorter than Minutes because the hour hand is shorter than the minute hand, they are a turtle and a rabbit respectively because turtles are slow (like the hour hand) and rabbits are fast (like the minute hand), and they also represent the fable of the tortoise and the hare. They manage to not be particularly annoying! In fact I really like them! They’ve got a fun dynamic, with Minutes being more sentimental while Hours is a bit more aggressive, but he’s nice at heart and very open about how much he cares about his partner in time. Also, they don’t speak with a vocal tic, a rarity for fairies in this franchise, and that’s a plus. They’re brought to life by a couple of veteran seiyuu, Tarako as minutes and Kikuchi Misami as Hours.

The Land of Clocks itself is a pretty interesting place. It’s got lots of rock formations with various rocks shaped like numbers just scattered about, as well as grassy fields with lots of clocks laying there. The Infinite Clock is a giant hourglass inside aperture, with some gearing and weights. The disc that it’s in is shown to have illustrations of the zodiac animals on it, although the reason for this is never made clear.

Saki and Mai also get some really lovely outfits for this movie. Saki has a yellow belted dress or coat that has rolled-up sleeves and her cat emblem on the left hem of the skirt, with a pink long-sleeve shirt underneath, and she’s wearing dark gray pants with tan boots. Mai’s attire is a light pink shoulder-cut sweater with a darker pink collar and waist, worn over a white button-down shirt. She wears a blue skirt with tan hose or leggings, light blue pumps, and white leg warmers with a blue bow at the top. They’re outfits that evoke cool weather, which makes sense as this movie was released in late fall/early winter.

I want to move on to the opening and ending. I really love how the opening wordlessly tells the story of how Saki is desperately running late and Mai patiently waits for her, and it also showcases just how gorgeous the animation is going to be in this film. Take a look!

As cheesy as it is I’m especially fond of Saki rolling down that hill.

The ending, meanwhile, is “Ganbalance de Dance - Saki & Mai ver.” and while it plays in-universe, they don’t actually sing (weird for a karaoke contest), and most of the footage is external stuff. I do like the shots of Saki and Mai dancing with both of their alter egos, though, that’s pretty cool.

In conclusion, this movie is excellent. The Precure movies so far have all been strong. I don’t think it passes MH2 as my favorite movie but it’s a close second for sure. Some minor issues with pacing in the middle keep it from its full potential but it’s in the upper echelon of series films due to its strong characters and wonderful animation.

Finally, I want to note for the record that Kenta is present and has a few lines at the beginning of the film, but none of the other major cast members have any dialog. Mildly strange. Also, the judges for the karaoke contest are two real-world people: Uchiyae Yuka and Mukai Aki.

Uchiyae Yuka (on the left) sings the opening song, so her inclusion makes sense, but Mukai Aki has no involvement with Precure except for this part. I looked her up and she seems to be a TV actress and talk/variety show host from the late 80s and 90s, who has continued to make public appearances. I have no idea why they tapped her for this movie but I guess she fills the minor celebrity quota.

Next time we resume our normal activities. It’s Kintolesky and Dorodoron’s turn to attack, and Michiru and Kaoru get to celebrate their reunion with their friends! Look forward to it!

Pink Precure Catchphrase Count: 1 Zekkouchou Nari!

[biopsychs]

What I Learned From University (2nd Year)

See what I learned in first year here

Adjust how you study → I have a different study method for each class. Even if the content is similar to another class or you’ve had the prof before, you have to personalize your learning.

You can skip class sometimes → My introductory microbiology class was the worst class I’ve ever taken and I love microbiology. The prof sucked and I found I could just catch up on notes on the bus and have extra time to sleep in. I rarely skip class but I realized my time was much better spent working on other things. Only skip classes if catching up on notes is more efficient/a better use of your time than actually going to lectures. Also, don’t be afraid to take a day off (when you can) if your mental or physical health is suffering.

Group projects suck → I knew this already but nothing could have prepared me for what I had to deal with in my one semester long research methods class. I wish I had talked to my TA  or prof earlier to explain what was going on and how I could fix it. (Side note: Use Google docs for group projects!)

Mentoring programs are a great thing to be involved in → I got involved with a mentoring program for women in stem at my university and it has been such a valuable experience! I have access and connections to upper year students and women working in academia and industry who are there to provide help and guidance. My only regret is that I was too timid to ask for help at the start -- take advantage of the opportunities you have!

Get larger projects like reports and essays done as soon as you get them → My organic chemistry lab reports always took so long to write so I would delay working on them. However, I eventually got into a routine of finishing my lab report (or at least 95% of my report) on weekends (my labs were on Fridays) and it made my life so much easier! Just get it done and you won’t have the looming stress of a big project or report hanging over you.

Go to social events on and off campus → You can be social in so many different ways at university! Find something you’re comfortable with or go just outside your comfort zone. I went to a pizza party for psych majors and it was chill. I also went to a pubcrawl and it was so much fun. If you’re hesitant, drag a friend along the first time but make sure you talk to new people!

Apply for summer jobs early → Lots of good summer jobs for university students are posted early! I check my university’s job board and also look for jobs that are meant for students (where I live the government will provide funding for summer students to certain organizations). Make sure you send in your applications in as soon as possible too! Even if the deadline to apply is in two weeks, some places will get in touch with applicants (and could potentially hire someone) before that deadline. Find out if your uni has a career advising office (or something like that) and check it out, if you need help with resumes, cover letters, interviews, etc.

Leave your options open  → If you’re unsure about your major or career path, leave your options open as much as you can! Use the time you have now to explore what you really like. Last year I made the decision to do a double major in biology and psychology, because I wanted to go to med school but also wanted to leave the option of research (in bio or psych) open. Now, I’ve decided to major in psych and minor in bio, with the intent to pursue clinical psychology. I took classes and got research experience that helped me make an informed decision about what I really like and want to do.

Get involved in research and use your connections → Get research experience as early as possible. This will help you figure out if you actually want to pursue research or not, and will be so helpful with applications if you end in a position where you’re doing your own research! I have found it much easier to get involved with research by having connections (like talking to a prof, grad student, or upper year undergrad student who is already involved with a lab) rather than sending out cold emails to profs and hoping they’ll reply. If you are sending an email to a prof/lab you don’t have any connections to, make sure your personalize it -- mention any prior experience you have and why you’re interested in that lab specifically.

Check your email constantly → As a general rule, you can never check your email too much. Make an effort to reply to emails as soon as you get them, because otherwise you might forget about them. In general, reply to emails within 24 hours anyways.

Take a summer class → I took a summer class on the psychology of motivation and it was totally worth it. I knew I would have to take a summer class at one point and I knew I would prefer to do it earlier in my degree (taking a summer class in my last year does not sound like fun). It was refreshing to see how well I could do when one class was my only priority and I was able to learn/retain the content so much better. It was also nice that I was able to take an upper level course (my previous psych courses had been only 1st or 2nd year level) by itself so I could get used to the increased demands. One thing to note is that summer classes go by really quickly (in my case 3 lectures were equivalent to 3 weeks of classes) so make sure you’re keeping up with the material.

Find your optimal level of stress → One thing I learned in my motivation class is that we all have an optimal level of stress. Think of it as an inverted U shape, with performance on the y axis and stress on the x axis. The highest point, the top of the U, is your optimal level of stress, where stress is helping you perform to the best of your ability. If you move past that point (either less stress or more stress) your performance is going to decrease. If your stress levels are high and anxiety-causing your performance is going to suffer. I found my optimal level of stress when I was studying for my first motivation midterm -- I was cramming the night before but because I had no other pressing responsibilities (like 4 other classes) I was able to feel stressed without feeling panic or test anxiety also. Find your optimal level of stress and see how well you perform. Remember that feeling when your stress levels are rising so you have a baseline to get back to.

Don’t get stuck as “premed” → Being premed is completely okay but don’t close yourself off from other options. I know so many people who are premeds and are also biochemistry majors. Some of these people don’t even like biochemistry but stick with it because they think it will make their application look better. Please study something you’re actually interested in. Med school is a great option but just make sure you have a plan B (and a degree that is going to suit this plan B). I know someone who graduated with their biochemistry degree and regretted it -- by the end of their degree, their plan was no longer med school and they wished they had done a general biology degree, w classes they liked, while taking a few biochem classes they liked. I used to consider myself premed but I realized clinical psychology is a much better fit for what I actually like/am good at. Just make sure you want to be a doctor for the right reasons is all I’m saying.

Morning classes are actually kind of okay → Everyone talks about how bad morning classes are, but I actually prefer them. I have a hard time paying attention in later classes and it’s really nice to have all my classes done by mid-day. Just make sure you keep a regular sleep schedule (i.e. try to go to bed/ wake up at reasonably early times so your body can recover better on the nights where you get less sleep) 

Always come prepared → This applies for so many things. Bring a snack, don’t forget your charger, do your readings. You’re never going to regret being prepared but you may regret not being prepared.

Be ready to register for classes → Know your time and date to register for classes and be ready to click register right at that time! I always make multiple schedules b/c often the lab times or classes I want to take are full. If a class is full, make sure you know what to do. Register on the waitlist. If there isn’t a waitlist, find out who you need to talk to (usually the prof or department head). Check back a few times a week to see if spots open up in classes, because a lot of people change their schedule. Don’t wait to talk to an academic advisor if you’re not sure which classes to take or have any concerns.

Quizlet is a blessing  → Quizlet is an app/website that lets you make flashcards and view other people’s flashcard sets. Study flashcards while you’re waiting in line for coffee or on the bus. You may also be able to find flashcards from people who took the same class as you -- use those! If you make your own flashcards be a nice person and share them with your friends :)

A bad grade is not the end of the world → In one class I got 35% on my first midterm and never managed to get a midterm grade higher than 68%. I was absolutely destroyed when I saw that mark on my first midterm and was ready to give up. Please don’t give up! I talked to my prof and was able to have my other midterms weighted more and I used my lab reports to bring my mark up. If you show your profs you’re working hard they’ll do what they can to help you out. It’s really easy to feel like your hard work is not making a difference, especially if you’re continually not getting the results you want -- this doesn’t mean you should stop working hard, it just means you may have to study differently, review material daily, and ask for help! If you fail you need to remember that you will have to work harder -- you have to keep up with the new material and relearn the old material. I wasn’t overly happy when I saw my final grade in the aforementioned class but, when I compared it to my first midterm and my feelings of utter confusion, I was satisfied with my grade because it showed my progress and improvement (and I also used it to motivate me to never let it happen again).

Realize that everyone is at university for different reasons → Some people have big goals, some people are still figuring it out, and some people just want to get their degree as soon as possible. There’s nothing wrong with being any of the above, just don’t expect everyone to have the same goals as you.

Know the deadlines for dropping courses → Even if you don’t think you’ll be dropping or changing any courses, write the dates down in your planner. My friend waited a few days too long to drop a math class that turned out to be extremely difficult and, even though she passed it in the end, she was stressed out all semester and her performance in other classes suffered as a result.

You’ll always be meeting new people and making friends → I lived off campus first year and felt like I had missed my chance to make friends. I shouldn’t have worried so much. Second year was much better in that there were a lot more familiar faces in my classes and I got to know other people much better through smaller classes and labs! Other people are always happy to make friends so just take the first step by starting a conversation :)

You can’t give 100% all the time → Some of the best advice that I was given this year was that you can’t give 100% all the time. You only have so much time and energy (mental and physical) you can give. For some tasks, the outcome from 70% effort and 100% effort may not be too different. Figure out what tasks those are so that you have enough energy to give 100% when you really need it.

[random-imagines-blog]

First to Love {Diana Prince x Reader Oneshot}

Requested by: Anonymous Wordcount: 4532 Prompt: can you write a one shot with Diana Prince and a reader who has feelings for her but thinks she never has a chance with Diana because she’s well... Diana, while she’s this shy/introverted/slightly awkward type, but she finds out Diana feels the same for her by having them be in a situation where Diana becomes very jealous? please? thanks!            

You had put together exhibitions before, but only the smaller ones - not that anything at the Louvre would ever be considered miniscule, art or event alike. Pulled from the best museums in the world, the Love exhibition held so many dazzling pieces of artwork that it was a tough task to put them all together in the best possible positions to get the full effect of what the exhibit was trying to portray. Perhaps it was fate that brought you to this certain project that Diana had wanted you on, considering so many of these paintings reflected the dreams that you had about her. Those ones that you would put into your diary but never act upon or think would ever come true. But those were just nighttime fancies - during the day, you had to bury them deep and act professional in front of the beautiful woman that you had come to care for over the years.

You’ll start off the morning with a small cup of your favorite warm beverage - usually forbidden from the hallways of the Museum, but you were allowed since everyone knew how careful you were - and look over the paperwork, often signing off on things that Diana had handed to you since she didn’t have the time to look them over herself. How you got through the mountain, you never really knew, but time went by quickly and then you could proceed with a quick trip through the maze that was the famous French museum and get a feel for how things were looking. That’s how the morning was, then you would grab a bite to eat - sometimes with Diana, but usually not since she was an integral part of the Museum. Not that the afternoon would be any less busy, but instead of paperwork, it was guiding the workers into putting the art in the correct places, and not mixing up the fifteenth century art with the sixteenth for that would surely be a cultural disaster.

Realization that you were in charge of something to large, so fantasized, so famous always made your mind go into a spiral. All that you had wanted was to be close to something larger than yourself, and you found that in the art. The different pieces all made you feel different things. Slithering away for your afternoon break, you went to stand in front of your favorite piece of work that was here, the painting of Juliet by John William Waterhouse. He had painted someone who looked so much like the famous lover, that it incited a heartache in your chest that only could be soothed by one person in particular.

You knew that it was Diana. You knew all along that it had always been Diana - but it was not meant to be, of course.

Yet, whenever the two of you were together in the office, or out to lunch, or at an opening - you could never fully set aside those feelings. You couldn’t help but marvel in how she was so charismatic, so charming in manner rather than depending on the Goddess-like face that she had.

“Pardon, can you sign for this?” A man asked you. “Have you a pen though, I lost mine.”

“Ah-” You said, and felt for your pockets but found that you had no writing utensils on you. “In the office, do you think that you could follow me?”

Not for the first time, you entered the office that you shared with Diana, and found that she was in there, sitting behind her desk and doing some research on a piece that had recently come into the Louvre’s collection. It’s not the first time either that an errand boy had caught sight of her and nearly drooled himself dry.

Footsteps brought her attention to the two of you, but the only movement that she gave at the moment was a smile towards you. Paranoid that the man might think it was for him, you picked a pen off of your desk, scribbled something that half looked like your signature, and sent him on his way back to the exhibit before sinking down into your comfortable office chair to take a deep breath. The smile was enough to send your blood into your cheeks and you cursed yourself for being so shy in the presence of Diana. But still - she was such an amazing woman, who could blame you for feeling the way that you did?

When the door closed behind the delivery boy, Diana closed her laptop and turned all of her attention towards you. Fear trailed up your spine as you thought that perhaps you were in trouble for something, but another smile reassured you that this was not the case. Overcome with relief, you smiled back.

“At last, almost done?” Diana asked. You nodded and took a deep breath, then ran the back of your hand against your forehead. Blackness sometimes played at the edges of your vision from stress, that’s how hard you worked here but every single bit of it was worth it - you couldn’t wait to see everything come together.

“Moment left, mere moments.” You said. “Then everything should be set up and done, before the deadline even. Then we can finally let the public in to see everything.” Only the small things were left such as the menu planning, which the caterer was putting together for the official opening. You’ve requested some finger foods with aphrodisiac properties, like chocolates and oysters.

“Your work here might earn you a promotion, though I don’t want to lose my favorite assistant.” Diana said. Angry with that prospect, you hid it behind a laugh, trying to focus on the positive aspect - you were her favorite assistant. That said something.

“No, you won’t lose me.” You insisted. “What would I do without your guidance, Diana? Isn’t there more that I can learn from you? I don’t think I’m ready to move on, not yet.”

“I’ve got a feeling that you would do just fine.” Diana responded. A moment passed where she was examining you and you felt even warmer under her gaze. Sir Elton John would probably even be affected by a woman such as Diana - she had a way of making you feel extremely important when she looked at you. “His deliveries arrived safely, right?”

You were confused for a moment, until you realized she was talking about the delivery boy from earlier. And then another minute to recall what his delivery probably was.

“What he delivered better be safe, or else the insurance company is going to have a field day.” Kneeling in front of the men in their business suits, begging for forgiveness for a ruined piece of art worth millions of dollars - that didn’t sound like your idea of a fun time. “My trust in them is strong though, I’m sure that all is fine. To be safe, I hired a company that we’ve worked with many times.”

Dressed in a blue dress, Diana stood up and all of the other colors in the room were sucked dry in the presence of her golden skin against the blue. Perhaps it was just your imagination but the art on the walls and the books on the shelves all seemed muted. But it was probably just you.

“Y/N, I was meaning to ask you - do you have anyone that you want to bring to the opening?” Diana asked, one eyebrow arching up, her eyes sparkling with delight.

“I’d thought about bringing my mother but she’s out of town, so I’m going to have to bring my back up.” You said with a shrug. More often than not, you had brought in a parent or a relative to the openings because you knew, without a doubt, that they were proud of your work and would appreciate being invited. It wasn’t possible this time around, not for your big day, which was unfortunate. You had your good friend Ralph Dibney coming in from Central City, however, so you wouldn’t be alone. You’d never brought him to something like this before, and you had to hope that he wouldn’t embarrass you.

“Of course,” Diana said, averting her eyes. “It is unfortunate that your mother can’t come - I always liked her.”

“My mother? The one who drinks five glasses of champagne then asks the bodyguard to sneak her out a Van Gogh?” You laughed. But you did love your mother, she was always the life of the party. Thumbing through the pages of your life, you never compared to her in that aspect. Ghosts of her personality traits were inherited by you - such as your passion for art, but while she was extroverted, you tended to be a lot more introverted and preferred blending into the background. Ghosts only. But the two of you ended up becoming good friends and Diana got along great with her as well.

“Her sense of humor is always very interesting.” Diana said with a laugh, the sound reverberating through the office. The laugh brought one to your lips and you chuckled along with her, knowing that it was true. “She will be missed on opening night.”

“The party won’t be the same without her, but I hope that her replacement will fit in just as well.” A hope swelled in you that Diana may like your friend Ralph, and that he wouldn’t embarrass you too much, considering the fact that he often spoke without thinking. With the art that was going to be on display, he was sure to make a lot of nudity jokes.

On the night of the opening, you spent more time on your appearance than you normally would - simply because the whole theme was romance, and perhaps with enough champagne, you might be able to convince Diana to give you a hug. No, maybe just a handshake or a brush of arm against arm, you would settle for that alone. You wore the most luxuriant and expensive garment that you had bought specifically for this purpose. Just for tonight, you would wear red, something that you normally avoided because it was so ... so ostentatious and you usually preferred to fit in. Had you of gone shopping by yourself instead of with a good friend, you might not have picked it out for yourself but they had insisted, and it fit like a glove in the fitting room.

Or maybe you should go with something understated, you didn’t know. You were feeling all sorts of confused but when the car pulled up to your house, you didn’t have time to change into something black as you normally would, but were forced to walk outside in the Paris streets to go into the black town car that Ralph had taken to pick you up.

“But the plane ride across the ocean was fine, thanks for asking.” Ralph said, getting rid of the silence the moment that the car door closed behind you. You laughed, missing his easy sense of humor and leaned in for a hug.

“I was going to ask eventually.” You chuckled, and gave him a peck on the cheek. Best to make sure that he is happy or else it was going to be nothing but negative wise cracks all evening. “I think you look amazing in suit, why don’t you wear one more often, Digby?”

“What, and feel like a monkey all the time?” Ralph asked, preferring his more casual jackets and long sleeved shirts to this suit and tie combination. What wouldn’t be do for you though, since you offered him this trip to Paris. “If I look good though, you’re going to be stealing the show, look at you all dressed in red.”

“But are you sure that it isn’t a bit too ... much?” Just as the familiar feelings of insecurity started to bubble up inside of you, Ralph shut them down with a quick shake of his head. “As an American, I’m not sure I should take your opinion on style, anyhow.” You teased. Instead of getting offended, Ralph just laughed.

“To me, there’s nothing better than an entire denim outfit or underwear with the American Flag all over it.” You laughed even harder at that, and as the car pulled up in front of the Louvre, you were in high spirits. Yet, seeing the amount of people who were going in - high up museum officials, investors, charity groups, artists and local celebrities, you felt your nerves going a little high again.

Sliding towards the door, Ralph paused before opening it, and looked at you. “As I am always a curteous date, I got you something.” You stared at him blankly until he reached into his inside pocket, delicately plucked what was tucked inside and held it out to you. A rose was now in his hand where before there was nothing - like a little street magic show.

“God, you’re such a dork. How did you even get this - you came straight from the airport?”

“And that’s a secret that I’ll never reveal.” Ralph said with a smug look on his face. You stared at him, not blinking, knowing that he would give in. “There was a florist at the airport, come on, you’re smarter than this.”

“You might just be smarter than your face would give you credit for.” Ralph smiled, despite it being a backhanded compliment and finally opened the door to the car and slid out. You took hold of his hand and stepped out of the car as well, using his grip to help you to your feet. You smiled at the photographers who were around - the press was just for the local magazines, newspapers and the museum’s webpage. No doubt, they would only be publishing the pictures of Diana for she would always appear to be the star of the show.

Of course, she spotted you before you spotted her which seemed to be the case. She hurried over to you, and you took her appearance in with wide eyes and stunted breath. She looked absolutely stunning, not that she normally didn’t, but she went all out. Diana’s Burgundy gown made you suddenly feel like you were just a kid playing dress up compared to her.

“Let’s look at you! How beautiful you look!” Diana said, putting an arm around your shoulders and looked you over. You noticed that she didn’t even look at Ralph, which was strange because she was always so outgoing and happy to meet new people. Reflexively, you blushed and looked down at the cobbled tiles that you were standing on.

She continued admiring you for another minute, then gave a side glance over at Ralph who adjusted his bow tie and gave a grin to impress. He hadn’t laid eyes on Diana before and he was smitten, like all other people who set their eyes on her. “A beautiful night for art, isn’t it? What a pleasure to be in Paris! I am Ralph Dibney, y/n might have mentioned me?”

Life wasn’t seeming real as Diana brought her face in close to yours and smiled for the photographers. As Ralph was being ignored, he put an arm around your waist and smiled his big ol’ smile as well, trying to at least get some of the attention. And once the photo-ops were finished, Diana started to lead the way into the museum.

Suddenly, you were able to see how everything had come together. She had given you the power to execute your plans the way that you had wanted to and everything with the new exhibit looked better than you had dreamed. You grabbed yourself a glass of champagne from the server that was going around with a tray of them and sipped at it slowly, taking in the splendor of all of your work.

Something for everyone was here - even Ralph found himself attracted to some of the works despite his idea of art being cheeto Elvis or something of the sort. Oh, he kept looking at the nude works of art, of course that was him, but you obliged by following him around and smelling the flower that he had given you when he was busy admiring the work. He had already forgotten about Diana’s brush off but you hadn’t.

She followed the two of you around, you noticed, and looked at the flower that you were holding. She questioned you about it with only a glance and a raise of the eyebrow. “He picked it up from the airport, isn’t he sweet?” You said, holding it out for Diana to smell.

“My perfume is overwhelming it,” Diana denied, politely. “That’s nice of him, though - does he come to visit you often?”

But your attention was called away from Diana by another server coming around with hor d’oeuvres. Diana and yourself took a little piece of chocolate each, and smiled at the server. “There’s a first time for everything - usually I have to go over to America to see him.”

“Only you go to see him? There is ... unfairness in that.” The beautiful woman said. Wrote under the paintings surrounding you were quotes from famous literature which seemed to correspond with the art, and you stopped to read one, then replied to Diana.

“Deep down, it does upset me a little that I have to do all the traveling, but I have more than just him back in Central City. Even just these couple of days are nice.” The smile on your face was genuine - you did miss a lot of your friends back in the United States, and seeing Ralph brought back nothing but good memories. Some were more silly than others, but they were all good.

Everybody seemed to have a good time, you noticed. Silently after the conversation, Diana had drifted away and Ralph returned back to your side and linked his arm with yours proudly. But your eyes kept going to the beautiful woman in red.

Ralph was on his best behavior throughout the night, and it was something that you greatly appreciated. Why, before the official tour would start, you even gave him a peck on the cheek.

And then the rest of the night got a little bit odd. It started when Diana returned to you after greeting the head curator, and she stayed on your other side throughout the evening. The fact that she was so close did excite you somewhat though it did make your cheeks turn nearly the same color as your dress when took your hand to show you something. In time, the group came to the painting that reminded you so much of Diana, and as you looked at her in her profile, you wondered how it could have compared at all in your mind. The bone structure of Diana was so much stronger and aesthetically pleasing than any brush could put to words. At the mention of Juliet, your mind replayed all of the fantasies that you had about this woman and how, just by her holding your hand, some of them were coming true. It was odd, you thought, but enjoyable nonetheless.

The rose transfered from being tucked into your sleeve to your hand whenever you didn’t have a drink with you, and you did take sniffs of it every so often and smiled at Ralph to thank him for such a gift - it wasn’t very much like him but appreciated nonetheless.

The exhibition went extremely well - after the tour was over and the last of the food was being handed out, you were complimented for your hard work by more people than you thought that you would be, even by the head of the museum. He shook your hand and said that he would make a note of your name for future considerations.

“Not only have you done some great work here but everyone has said that you are pleasure to work with, keep it up.” At the President’s words, you started to feel a little better about yourself, and when you turned to look over at your company for the evening - Diana and Ralph, they were both beaming at you.

“I thank you from the bottom of my heart for the opportunity,” You told the President, who then moved on to talk to some of the patrons and investors who were getting ready to leave.

“Where are you going after this is done?” Diana asked, approaching you with a half-drunk glass of champagne delicately held in her long fingers.

“On my way home, I guess.”

“Yes, I’ll be taking y/n straight home,” Ralph interceded.

“You are?” Diana asked, looking at Ralph and then at you. “And you will excuse us for a moment, please, I’d like to talk to y/n in my office.”

The smile on Diana’s face looked a little more forced than usual and so you were more than motivated to go with her to see what was the matter. Ralph took it all in stride and said that he would go make sure that the car was ready while you two spoke.

You walked with Diana away from the remaining guests, through the maze-like hallways to the office that the two of you occupied. For privacy’s sake, you closed the door behind the two of you, then went to your desk, putting the rose in the vase that usually held your pens. “So Diana, are you okay?” You questioned when she was silent for a moment. Your currently theory was that perhaps she was feeling a little insecure for showing up to this alone when just about everyone else had a date.

“So who is Ralph?” What you were expecting was far from that. Maybe she liked him - that might break your heart a little bit but you would support your friends no matter what.

“Ralph, like I said, is a friend of mine. I met him when I lived there for a couple of years.”

Diana crossed her arms and approached you, her eyes shifting from the hem of your garment up towards your face. “He is just a friend?” The question sounded more like a statement coming from her lips, and you wondered where her confusion was coming from. Join the club - you were getting confused now as well.

“Of course he is just a friend.” You told her, backing up against your desk until you could go no further unless you wanted to actually sit down on it. “Are you feeling alright Diana? You’re acting .. strange.”

Diana came closer, even as you had backed away, and her hard expression had turned to a soft one. She laughed lightly, eyes downcast before flicking back up to yours. “I had thought... for a moment that you two...”

This time, you had joined her in the laughter. As lovely as Ralph could be on the rare occasion, there was absolutely no way that was going to happen. You had thought about dating in the past, but you had thought that it would be cruel to give anyone hope while your heart hopelessly belonged to Diana. “No, nothing like that has ever happened, nor would it.”

But the confusion came back to you once more, and you ventured to ask, “Would there be a problem if it was?”

“No, I would be happy for you.” Diana swallowed. “But seeing the two of you did make me feel jealous. I had wanted to ask you to come tonight with me.”

Your brain couldn’t comprehend the thought of her having any sort of want for a date with you. It never even crossed your mind that it is what she could have meant. “I’m sure many people would have loved for you to ask them - you don’t need to bring your assistant.”

“I do not want to bring anyone else, and I didn’t want to bring you as my assistant. I wanted you as my date.” The beautiful woman said, running her tongue against her ruby red bottom lip. You looked away for a second and laughed to yourself, much like Diana had done earlier. She must clearly be joking.

The fact that Diana was still looking at you when you brought your gaze back to her made you doubt that for a second, but only for a second. She rested a manicured hand on your shoulder, smoothing out the sleeve of your garment. “But you brought him, and it made me feel jealous. I had to get you alone to tell you how I felt as soon as possible.”

Her confession did give you a bit of hope. Did the president have a camera rolling in here as part of a joke show? If so, they were going to get exactly what they wanted because all of your dreams had lead you to this point. You were falling for it.

“Diana, if you had asked me first ... I never would have brought anyone here. I would have picked you everytime.” You admitted, since now seemed to be the time for the truth to come out. “I never thought in a hundred years that you would ... want me to go with you. You could bring anyone, you know that.”

“You should move on from those childhood insecurities.” Diana said, moving her hands up your neck to rest on both of your cheeks. “I see how you hide yourself, you should not. You are strong, you are powerful, you are beautiful. More than you think that you are.”

You could feel parts of your body starting to fall asleep as all the blood rushed to your face in that moment. Your mouth opened to take in the air, and Diana’s eyes went to your lips. She moved in slowly, and you knew that it was because you could stop her if you wanted to this way. But you didn’t want to stop her.

In the dark office, with only lights coming in from the window, you shared your first kiss with Diana. It didn’t have the fireworks, or the drama that you had come up with in your daydreams about this moment, but it was perfect nonetheless. And when she finally moved away, her fingers moved to your lips to wipe away some of the lipstick transfer.

“You’re admitting all this because I made you jealous with Ralph?” You asked, once you caught your breath again. You let out a shaky laugh as she nodded. “I’ve got other friends, I can bring another one to the next event if that means you’ll kiss me again.”

Diana laughed, took your hand and squeezed. “Don’t you dare. You’ll either accompany me as my date, or I won’t show up at all. No compromises.”