#my guy out here fucking around and finding out since time immemorial

[theeminentlyimpractical]

I love that, given the new [spoiler] info, Crowley has evidently been monkey’s paw-ing himself since before Time began.

2008 Crowley: shuts down cell phone network 2008 Crowley: hey Siri, call Aziraphale 2008 Crowley: FUCK

Angel Crowley: convinces God to change her Great Plan to an Ineffable Plan to extend the life of the Universe Angel Crowley: So we're cool right? I get to stay in Heaven for my role in this Ineffable Plan? AngelDemon Crawley: FUCK

[madamtrashbat]

A couple of thoughts

We doin' okay, Cats family? We're good? Good. I have one last thing to add.

This is kinda about pro- and anti-shippers, but it's really more about fandom culture in general and just my experiences. You can read it, if you want, or not.

Up to you.

I've been doin' this for a while. A good fifteen years at least, closer probably to sixteen. I've been doing things in fandom for longer than some of my mutuals have been alive.

(Oh Jesus)

And there's something I gotta tell you guys, both as a person who has been doing fandom-y stuff for years and for someone who literally has college degrees in English Literature and Creative Writing.

Being an anti is not normal.

And I know that comes across as harsh and mean and it sounds unreasonable but I'd like to explain what I mean by that.

I can trace back being an anti to two main sources: Voltron and Star Wars. I was never into Voltron or really even around anyone who was but I remember the screaming and fighting over the ships, and I remember the hellish crusade that began when people dared to ship Rey and Kylo Ren together. It was nasty, guys. It was absolutely insane that suddenly people were doing this over fictional ships, that people were being sent actual abuse and hatred because someone wanted the broody shitlord man and the unwashed desert scrounger to smooch. Like... imagine that in real time.

I was not, nor have I ever been, a Reylo shipper, but you know what I did, when that ship began, and I didn't like it? I ignored it and went about my day. Because that's how I was taught. Nothing in the fiction world was worth fighting over. It was not worth getting into arguments over. What was the point?

Then the antis got bolder, started branching out, and when people like me started standing up and saying, "Hey, stop being a dick to people!" someone hired the world's best PR machine and suddenly people who were not antis were pedophiles and abusive and incestuous.

How's that for some whiplash.

This anti movement of berating, bullying, harming, and threatening has been their MO, and it's dangerous. And now, they all buy their own bullshit. They actually think people like me are all out here twisting our mustaches like Snidely Whiplash and diddling kids. Without a shred of irony, they believe this.

Proship only labeled itself that as a response to the antiship, and antiship, make no mistake, named itself first. It was not anti-pedophile. It was not anti-incest. It was not anti-abuse.

It was all about disliking fictional ships that other people enjoyed, and thus attacking people over it.

And it's pointless. It's driven a child to suicide. It has gotten people fired. It has ruined careers, livelihoods, friendships. For nothing. For a boogeyman that doesn't exist.

Sex experts across the board all agree that what gives us our jollies is not at all what we want in real life. There's some wild statistic like 70% of women have had a sexual fantasy about rape at least once in their lives. About rape! That act that most AFAB people have a deep ingrained fear of! And we've used it to get off! Because sexual fantasy isn't that deep. Our brains are idiots. And since time immemorial, we as humans have written just the most fucked up shit.

It's even in the Bible. Humans have been nasty forever. And it doesn't mean shit.

It's in the TV shows. It's in our movies. It's in our books. It's in our music, our podcasts, everything. Being an anti is not the way of humanity at all. Ever. Except for like... maybe the puritans but they sucked so who cares about them.

Antis believe a lie. They believe a lie and they hurt people for it. I am not in any way, shape, or form exaggerating when I say I am fearful for those who regularly interact with me, because I am worried that one day the art they make or the "clout" they carry isn't going to be enough to save them from their friendship with me and antis will tear them to shreds. Because that is how they behave. They may not think they're bullies, and they may think they're in the right, but I want you to look up the Youtube RPF kid who killed themselves over anti harassment. Look at that horrible ask I just got. This is how they behave.

And that is what proshippers stand against. It's a stance against bullying, harassment, threats. That is it. There are plenty of proshippers out in the world that would never, ever think of writing anything involving someone underage, or between relatives, or involving anything gruesome. Because that's not what it's about.

Antis are new in the world of fandom, and they are the absolute root of toxicity. I do not exaggerate. They waste the time of agencies actually trying to eradicate CSAM by sending them art someone drew of a teenage character that isn't real. They've driven people to suicide. They've outright admitted to not caring about actual humans as much as they care about fictional ships. They have shown time and time again that they are not above abuse, vitriol, and bullying. There are blogs that post stories from ex-antis who say they were afraid to say anything different than their anti friends for fear of righteous backlash.

I repeat: I am legitimately afraid that my friends are going to get dogpiled and harassed because they dare to be my friend. That fear is not baseless. And it's all because of the way antis act.

I am liberal with the block button. I try to maintain boundaries because I don't want to see any of that shit as much as they don't want to see any of mine (though only a very scant few actually block me back, which is a joke in and of itself). But it still slips through. And I hate it, every time I see it.

Because this is not the way we're supposed to be. We are not supposed to be at odds with each other. We are supposed to share and have fun and be joyful about some people in lycra.

But because some people wanted to put on the pilgrim hat and play Morality Council to someone who's been doing this for years, I gotta tiptoe around people that think I'm actually out in the world diddling children. Do you know how fucked up that is. Do you know how that feels? To not only have someone make that judgment without any evidence, but to tell it to other people who don't know me either?

When someone finally snaps and starts biting back, it's not out of nowhere. And antis never, ever see themselves as doing something wrong. But they are. They are wrong.

Can I let you in on a little secret?

Seriously, just between you and me, come here.

If you think it's wrong to bully someone because of fiction, then you're proship. That is the long and short of it. No more or less. I hate to break it to you, but that is the only definition, and anyone who says it's something else is lying to you for their own gain.

And sure, there are lots of people who try to hide behind the proship label as they do shitty things. But antis do the same. Humans being assholes and trying to blame it on something else is not new.

The fact that people have come to me and told me that the antis have made them feel uncomfortable, that they're afraid if they do something they might view as negative they might receive hate, that people are actually AFRAID of people in this fandom, is not okay.

There was a fandom I was involved in where one of the prominent people actively hated me and I was never afraid of what she would do. I am afraid of the antis in this fandom, though. Because they have teeth and they like to use them.

Fandom isn't supposed to be like this. Nobody should be screaming at teenagers for talking to adults in fandom, infantilizing them like they're not a whole autonomous human. Nobody should be telling someone to kill themselves because they ship Tuggerstrap. Nobody should be afraid of the other people in their fandom.

Antis, if any of them even read this (I doubt it, but just in case), I want you to look around. The people who are neutral are not afraid of what the proshippers will say to them. They are afraid of you. You and your ilk are the ones causing the damage, and you are the outliers in the entire world of fiction. You're a loud minority that thinks it knows better when it knows absolutely nothing.

Ruminate on that.

My blog is still a safe space from bullying, abuse, and nastiness. If someone is being mean to you, you will always find a friend here. And if you can't say the same, then what's wrong with you?

Be excellent to each other. Stop making people afraid.

And sit down and ask yourself what it is you really want when you make vague posts about people and tell people vicious, awful things. What are you hoping to gain.

[nightswithkookmin]

You mentioned jk "witholding" his affection for jimin and how it would be jimin's request? 1. I guess it's hightime you accepted that, everyone noticed it last year and it wasn't a hot and cold situation either, it was full on nonchalance. 2. JM would never ask that of him. Never. The same way he wouldn't ask JK to tone down his interactions with other members, he wouldn't ask him to publicly not care for him. JK makes choices and when people don't like them, suddenly those choices are JM's?

Me trying to sneak past this Ask. Lol

I just don't know what to do with it honestly. I mean I don't think you are being rude or anything. But I also don't know what to do with it....

I guess it's hightime you accepted... it was full on nonchalance.

I'm not sure if this is in reference to JK not posting for Jimin on his birthday or the moment on the couch in the Grammy reaction video.

Because only one of those two instances is up for debate where I'm concerned. I think I have said several times now that from time to time JK does switch off his humanity around Jimin and the others. It's weird. You'd think he lost his daylight ring or summin. Lol.

And I think I have said that's exactly what he did on the couch in the Grammy reaction video?

And I said that's not the only time he's done that? I think I mentioned how he did the same in Soop when they were playing sport at midnight and he shoved Jimin?

I mean it's a whole meme now.

RM: Keep ya eyes on the ball.

JK:

Lol.

It's the why he behaves like this is in certain moments that is up for debate most times I think. And I think it all depends on the context, setting and a whole other factors.

So yes, I agree he was 'nonchalant' in that moment on the couch. I think that's a fact not an opinion or theory. I don't think anyone is disputing that.

And since you didn't state any theory to counter my theory on that moment or explain why you think he was being nonchalant on the couch in that moment- unless you meant to say you believe he was nonchalant because he doesn't care about Jimin; I'm just going to assume you meant he was full on nonchalant in not posting for Jimin's birthday and to that my response is-

I think it's hightime you accepted JK doesn't hate Jimin.

This guy? Jeon Jungkook? You tried it. Lol.

I understand if you don't think Jikook are a couple and your comment is just to ridicule persons such as myself who believe they are a couple.

But I think it's a free world and I have the right to believe whatever I want to believe and I believe Jikook is real not because I believe them to be real but because they are real. Period blank purr.

'Jikook gay' 'Jikook married' lol.

You mentioned how JK withholding his affections for JM and how it will be JM's request. JM will never ask that of him:

First of all, I agree with you because I never said that. What I did say was JK not posting for Jimin on JM's birthday and how that would have been at JM's request.

I think you took that bit out of context.

For context that bit alludes to my theory on Jm's birthday saga and the subsequent seemingly less publicly displayed affections between them in the aftermath- from the Be official promos to the hits 97.3 interview straight to the Grammy reaction video and the Grammy VLive itself.

I think my general theory on all of that has been that Jikook was required to be 'professional' throughout the Be era because that project was a personal project for and by all 7 and Jikook couldn't monopolize the shine like they tend to do in official BigHit content- a theory I still stand by.

I think it's long been established that BTS since time immemorial would rather Jikook be kept a secret and have had moments where they had actively tried to neutralize, cover up and even physically stop Jikook from doing certain things that could potentially expose their relationship.

JK hugging JM at Mama 2019 being high on that list and the 2020 September 1st Vlive being the climax of such moments as their neutralization tactic had directly resulted in the entire fandom questioning the truthfulness of Jimin's utterances made that day concerning JK, with some crazy fans going as far as to call Jimin dishonest and a liar.

I fail to see how this same group would not find JK posting on JM's birthday objectionable. Especially since Jk hadn't posted for any member in a year. I said I felt JK posting for JM on his birthday would have been tantamount to outing their relationship and that wouldn't have sat well with the group including Jimin.

I also said, and it's a known fact, JK gives zero fucks about others' opinions of him and wouldn't mind at all posting for JM if it's something he really wanted to do. The decision then would be Jimin's to make because JK cannot out their relationship without his permission.

And I don't think Jimin would ask JK to out their relationship in that way. Not if it went against the interest and collective will of the group. He is the one who brought up the members complaining about JK not buying them presents on their birthdays during festa in the first place.

He is equally the same person who run to JK to inform him Jin wasn't too happy with him choosing JM's bag over his bag.

I don't think it's far fetched for me or anyone to think JM would actually worry about how JK posting for his birthday and not for the other members' on theirs would make them look bad or how that will impact the feelings of the members.

I don't think it's far fetched for me to think JM would worry about the backlash JK would have received from toxic fans and antis in the aftermath of such incident had JK actually gone through with it and posted just for him and not the others.

As for that Grammy reaction moment, like I said, I feel Jikook are required to keep things on a low and be professional in certain contents post dynamite era- for whatever reason.

If you think about the trouble, the hustle the members went through to try to keep Jikook a secret and not make their BB VLive about Jikook- the omissions and choppy narration that marked that Billboard VLive, I don't think it's a stretch to assume they had asked Jikook to 'keep it professional' in that Grammy video too, to not give fans reasons to make that moment about their relationship.

And if that was the directive given, by their peers nonetheless, then I think the choice would have fallen on JK and JM to obey it or not. And again, I believe the only reason JK will obey such directive is if JM wanted him to.

The fact JM was super excited and instinctively turned to hug JK but stopped himself and sat his ass right back down speaks his obedience to me and the fact he later decided to throw caution to the wind and go to his man for his hug but for the knee that got in his way- that speaks defiance to me.

Jimin can be bold and defiant sometimes...

Now I'm not going to share my thoughts on JK in this conversation because I don't want to come across as 'defending him' and making excuses for him- which is something I get accused off most of the time...

So now I ask you, do you still think all this is a stretch?

JK MAKES CHOICES AND WHEN PEOPLE DON'T LIKE IT SUDDENLY IT'S JM'S CHOICE?

This... this right here.

I see what you mean and I get it. But how are you gonna say Jikook are a couple but then not expect them to act like a couple, make decisions like a couple, make choices for eachother as a couple or even expect us to treat them as a couple?

I don't understand.

'Jimin and I will sleep here'

Listen, I am a Jikooker. A KookMiner. I never think of Jikook as separate units. It's not in my vocabulary. I think and see them as a unit, a couple- one and the same. You are me. I am you. JM is Jk, JK is JM.

If JK makes decisions and choices, yes they are JM's decisions and choices too. If the members refer to them as a unit why shouldn't I?

That being said, I get what you mean. JM is always being scapegoated in this fandom. People will always look for an excuse to jump on him and I don't think that's right.

But I also don't think that is what I am doing here simply because there is no blame to assign in this situation. I keep saying JM's needs are as valid as JK's needs. JM is not wrong for his needs and neither is JK.

Couples do take eachothers needs into consideration when making choices and decisions. I don't think JK will make a decision of this nature without taking JM's needs into consideration.

I don't think he will 'nonchalantly' not post for Jimin without taking JM's needs into consideration.

Not after this.

'Jimin I'm sorry. You know my heart'

I think Jimin knows JK's intentions more than anyone. More than me, more than you.

At the end of the day, your opinion is your opinion. You are entitled to it as I am to mine.

Or maybe I missed the point of your Ask? I don't know but I hope this answers your question. Stay safe. Purple hearts.

Signed,

GOLDY

[sleepylixie]

Never gone, my love

Demon-Hunter!Changbin x Demon-Queen!reader  (Fits the Halloween moodies, me thinks)

2.8k words, Fantasy Angst Oneshot.

Warnings: Strong Language, gore, blackmail, murder by decapitation, a healthy dose of violence overall. An obsessive romance? 

A/N: HELLO! Tis me! Before anything, the inspiration for this fic comes entirely from the amazing fic (My love is Come to me) written by @silverlightqueen​- Oof, what a queen! Reading that piece had me lowkey mind blown and itching to give it a spin myself and so, Never gone, my love was born. Guys, no joke, I enjoyed writing this fic so insanely much. I’ve been missing from Tumblr for the sole reason of not having the inspiration or the guts to write and post anything anymore. Recently, I’ve been learning and making changes to that attitude of mine, so HERE WE ARE! I’m here to bug everybody with my fics and writing again!!

ONTO THE FIC!!! Hope y’all like this!

What is a queen without a king? Unhinged. 

What is a queen with her king? Unleashed.

The silver rings on my fingers glinted wickedly, winks of light reflecting off them from the hellfire blazing outside. Being queen was no mean feat, even if the queen in question was of part- noble blood to start with. Not everybody was happy with Satan’s oldest heir being a daughter- if anything, they expected me to take to my mother’s path and become a low-rung sex fiend, running errands day-to-day, begging for a good fuck. Imagine their horror when I turned out to be my father’s daughter instead, the woman that is begged for. Holding power came to me as naturally as playing the seductress and it was only a matter of centuries before my father and his court relented, finally giving me an ascendancy to my own realm of Hell.

If power is currency, I am a feral tycoon, trading in smiles, sex and savagery. I played the game I wasn’t expected to play and here I sit, on the Fifth circle’s throne, dripping in authority and gemstones.

No, I’m not the type to dress so frivolously every day. It was the coming of All Hallow’s Eve and my subjects were all too happy to enjoy the lines thinning between our world and the mortals’. The air was electric, alive with the sounds of fear, lust, anger…. Sin. It was a symphony to my immortal ears. While my people revelled in their festivities outside my castle, I had my own celebrations well underway.

“I know you’re outside, my love!” I called out, elongated canines flashing against the smirk on my blood-hued lips. “Why don’t you join in the festivities,” I grinned wider, “it’s all for you anyway.”

If I had breath in my lungs, it would have been knocked out of me by the man who stepped into my throne room. Jet black hair, sharp chin and sharp eyes narrowed as he took a step, and another into the chamber. He was dressed like any other of his stature would be- comfortable fighter’s clothing over his muscled physique, harness over his shoulders, thighs and waist with weaponry all over his frame and disdain on his face.

“What is it going to take for you to leave me alone, Y/N.” Seo Changbin wasn’t the type to mince words and oh, how I loved that about him. I let my smile grow further into a snarl, baring teeth. “You know the answer to that too well, my love.” I cooed, allowing myself a flash of satisfaction at the way his jaw gritted in annoyance.

My demon hunter love. Oh, what has that curse done to you.

“Cut the bullshit, Y/N.” His eyes bore hateful holes into my own as he looked me up and down, wrinkling his nose at the sight of my royal regalia. “You know that’s never going to happen. When are you going to stop with your infernal games?”

I clicked my tongue, standing and walking down my throne’s podium, jet black smoke and orange sparks trailing behind my dress.

“You loved these infernal games more than I did, darling. When will you stop depriving yourself of what’s truly yours?” My stilettos clicked against the black marble floor as I made my way closer to where Changbin stood, ramrod straight in front of the double doors. “When hell freezes over.” He snarled back, watching my every movement.

I knew how I looked to him, a vision in debauchery, a shining beacon of temptation dipped in black corseted silk and silvery green gemstones. It is exactly what he hated about me- what he was cursed to hate about me. “I’m sure I can arrange that fairly easily if that’s what you wish, my love.”

My cold, beautiful love. Oh, what has that curse done to you.

He was the strongest, cruelest son of a Hell’s prince, smitten by my power and I, by his strength. We were inseparable, indomitable, bonded by mischief big and small until he was taken away from me.

He sucked in a breath, momentarily thrown off-guard before regaining his bearings. “You’re not strong enough for that, sweetheart,” he spat out the endearment like a curse. “You’d have done that a long time ago if you could.”

I looked him in the eye, unfazed by his argument. My heavily braceleted hand rose, palm first, wreathed in a ball of hellfire. Fire that blazed so hot, it was almost white. I let it burn bright between the both of us, illuminating the previously shadowed chamber around us.

There was an almost disappointed- no, frustrated look in Changbin’s eyes as he took in the utter carnage around him. Body after mortal body lay on the floor of my throne room, all limp, pale and unmoving.

“You- They said it was one dead body!” Changbin spluttered, his angry expression giving way to horror as he took in his vicinity. “This is just the beginning of what I can do. What you could do. You reveled in this debauchery as much as I did, darling.” I responded nonchalantly, allowing the hellfire to light up the chandeliers above us. “I’m sure you remember that one All Hallow’s Eve when we went on a rampage like this.”

“There is nothing fun about MURDERING INNOCENT HUMANS.” Changbin exclaimed and I shrugged, delighted at finally getting a rise out of him. “But you don’t know them. You don’t care about them. What does it matter to you? They’re just more souls for my people to feed on.”

“This is basic human empathy, Y/N!” He snarled at me and oh. There it was. The otherworldly strength that even the curse couldn’t take away from him. It set my nerves aflame, my body singing in it’s presence, it’s familiarity. “There is nothing more abhorrent than the way you keep killing and killing like these people don’t matter.” His voice rose in volume, raspy in it’s pitch. “What will it take for you to understand that I am not. YOURS. There is nothing under this godforsaken world that will let your devilish hands take over me, or the mortals on Earth-”

“What do you care about Mortals?” I screamed back, the fire in my nerves sparking into a wildfire at his words. “You’re NOT MORTAL.YOU’RE LIKE ME. YOU’RE MINE.YOU LIE TO YOURSELF. ”

Silence stretched between us as he stared at me again, stunned by my outburst. But then again, this isn’t something he hasn’t heard before.

The race of demon hunters is an abomination come to life. That coming from a demon princess is the highest order of abhorrence. Even more so because.. My love is the first, and worst of them.

The elders in the first mortal civilization felt the need to find a way for them to bring demons from the thralls of temptation and make them immune to the point where they can slay their kin to protect humankind. I was there. Trapped and in pain because of my childhood innocence , forced to watch as those infernal mites plunged my love into the light that turned him away from me, since time immemorial until now. Forced to watch as he rose from the flames, eyes alight with hatred as he plunged my father’s dagger into my chest.

“Admit it, my love,” I purred, stepping closer to him, leaning closer to his ear. “You miss being mine, as I missed being yours. You missed sitting on that throne, as King. Some part of you misses this.” I turned around and threw my arms out, encompassing the massacre in front of us.

I let out a velvet laugh as I made my way back to my throne. “This was all yours, until you walked away.” Taking my seat, I looked down at where Changbin stood, having moved from the doors to the middle of the room. “All I ask is for you to return to where you belong.”

“Maybe if you die for more than a few hours after I kill you, I’ll consider it.” Changbin snarled at me, looking for all the otherworld like a king without a crown.

I forgot what loss, pain and heartbreak felt like after that day, all those millennia ago. That is, until I found him in my chambers again, bristling with human weaponry and the need to kill me thrumming through his veins. So began our cat-and-mouse game, him wanting to sever his last connection to the Otherworld and me, savoring the sheer frustration I left him. You see, I forgot loss, pain, heartbreak- but I didn’t forget possession. He was mine, for glorious centuries, until he was taken away from me. I vowed to bring my Changbin back again and Satan’s daughter never goes back on her words.

“Or what if hell freezes over?” My pleasant question stopped Changbin short, head cocking to the side in slight confusion. “You see, darling, I might be Satan’s daughter, but I made my way here from the bottom.” I picked at my fingernails, looking like I didn't have a care in the world- which, of course, I didn’t. “ After you left, I gave and took many more favors to get to this fine evening. They call me Hell’s Whore, for all the things I was willing to do that even low-grade scum wouldn’t. You see, the darkness owes me a favor,” The color draining from his face stoked at the ice-cold fire burning in my mind. “And the darkness never fails to deliver.”

“What did you do,” Changbin breathed, his hands going, almost unconsciously, to the knives sheathed at his thighs. I smiled my sweet sinner smile at him, crossing one leg over the other as I leaned back on my throne. “Oh, nothing. Just asked for hell to freeze over Earth on All Hallow’s Eve night if you don’t agree to turn back.”

The curse was very simple. The only way my love would ever come back to me was if he chose to make the Turn himself. It was a clever ploy, because immunity to temptation was rooted into every demon hunter’s veins from the moment they are created. Luckily for me, I wasn’t beyond playing dirty.

“What the fuck?” Changbin exclaimed in rage, his feet carrying him of his own volition up the steps to stand over me in front of my throne. I continued smiling at him, not a hint of remorse on my face as I looked up at him. “You have a few minutes to decide, my love.” I purred, not breaking eye contact. It was that split second of uncertainty that flashed through his face, which urged me to move, pushing him down onto the twin throne that sat beside mine, empty for centuries without it’s true owner.

“And I’d suggest you make yourself comfortable.” I whispered, my lips mere inches from his face. The glare he levelled at me was one for the books, raging wild fury and utter desperation all wound into one.

“Stay where you are, darling, or I’ll butcher these precious mortal bodies one by one.” I grinned as I straightened up, sauntering back down the stairs to nudge my foot against one of the bodies closest to the throne. “I’ll have you know that none of these mortals are dead,” I giggled. “Only unconscious from the fear of the Otherworld. Delicate creatures, these mortals. It’s a wonder why you want to be associated with these weaklings.” A growl ripped out of Changbin’s throat as I stifled another laugh.

“How do I know you’re not bluffing? About the darkness?” Changbin shouted behind me, still rooted to his spot on the podium. I didn’t respond, only humming softly as I picked my way through the many bodies, looking for all the world like I was frolicking in Eden’s Garden. The singing of a blade flying through the air brought me out of my fake reverie, spinning and catching it by the handle just before it pierced my skin.

“Tch. You really didn’t think I’d make it this easy for you to kill me.” You wagged the knife point first at Changbin, who was still on the podium- what a sight he made. He was made for the throne, but his entire form bristled like he was seated on hot coals instead of opulence. “You don’t know if I’m bluffing until Hell actually freezes over, my love.” I responded, just loud enough for him to hear. I pulled up one of the limp bodies I stood amongst, a young girl who barely looked 16.

Changbin’s knife twirled in my fingers as I gripped the handle, moving the blade almost sensuously over the skin of her throat. “Maybe the massacre should start with her.”

It was a soft prick of pleasure that slid through my veins at the look of panic that danced across Changbin’s eyes. “You wouldn’t dare.” He growled. I did nothing but stare him in the eye, allowing the point of his knife to dip slightly into the child’s neck. Drops of ruby blood blossomed at the wound and the scent. Oh, the scent of human blood. What a magnificent feast.

“You have 3 seconds left, my love.” “What-” “Three,” “What the-” “Two,” “No, wait-” “One-”

“OKAY. FINE. FINE. STOP.”

“What was that, darling?” I cocked my head, pretending like I hadn’t heard him. “I’ll do it.” He sighed in defeat.

Oh. “Do it then,” I urged him, still having the knife pointed edge down into my young victim’s throat.

“You’re a fucking menace, Y/N .”Were the last words I heard before his eyes closed and his body slumped back into the throne, his face deliciously blank.

Did he Turn? The stabs of curiosity danced across my spine as the moments of silence stretched ahead, one, two, ten. And then he stirred. First he sat up, cracking his neck from the awkward position he’d fallen back in. His hand brushed back his hair and then, he opened his eyes. Bright red eyes, twin to my own.

I stared at him in barely veiled disbelief and he stared back, the glow in his eyes fading from neon to ruby. Then he smiled, and I knew. There was only one person in the Otherworld who had that smile of ice and terror. I couldn’t help but throw him a grin of my own, canines bared in an amused snarl of unholy victory. Like he was never gone, my love.

The knife twisted in my hands and went clean through the mortal girl’s throat, twisting away as her head fell off of her body in a shower of blood. But I couldn’t care less about the bloody mess on my arms, shoulders and cheek because I was walking my way back to the twin thrones. Changbin watched my every movement with a predator’s gaze, leaning back onto the throne-his throne, with a sense of stone-cold authority as his ringed fingers tapped the velvet on the arms of the chair. He was made for the throne, my love.

Soon, I stood in front of him, a snap of my fingers bringing forth the cold-iron and obsidian crown that was a male contrast to the feminine tiara that rested on my brow. “My King, my love.” I whispered, setting the crown atop his head. He was meant for a crown, my love.

“My Queen, my love.” Changbin’s smirk sent a jolt of wicked familiarity through my body, a thing of fiendish beauty. He took one of my hands into his own, raising it to press a gentle kiss onto my knuckles, the red eyes never leaving my own. When he tugged at my hand, it was with a sense of belonging that I allowed my body to fall onto his lap, uncaring of anything and anybody else. He nuzzled his nose into my neck, tongue darting out to taste the splatter of mortal blood that had found its way onto my skin. A low groan fought its way out of his mouth at the taste. He was never the type to hold back, my love.

“Oh, how I have missed the taste of human blood.” He rasped against my ear, a shiver making it’s way down my back at the proximity I’d missed so much. “Almost more than I felt the lack of you.” I hummed, placing kisses from his cheekbone to his ear. “Not as much as I missed you, I wager.” I murmured against his skin, nipping softly at his ear. His grip on my waist tightened as I pulled back, smirks mirroring each other. “What would you have me do to prove you wrong, my Queen?” Changbin’s expression was nothing short of vicious excitement as he matched me stare for stare. He was always a fierce one, my love.

“Rule over Earth with me.” His eyebrows raised, almost imperceptibly. “So you’re truly Hell’s Whore?”  I chuckled, capturing his lips with mine for a brief yet passionate kiss. “No, my love. Darkness is mine.”

Changbin laughed, the deep sound ricocheting off the hollow space in me that he had left empty for the past centuries. “For you, my Queen, my Love….gladly.”

It was like he was never gone, my love.

[sourwolfstories]

Hey! Do you have long fic recommendations? Can you involve some soulmate fics but AU are welcome too Long like 50k, 100k+ but really ill read anything

Soulmate fics (at least 50K)

When the Universe Comes Knocking (It’s Polite to Open the Door) by isthatbloodonhisshirt (wasterella)

It was like a door he’d nailed shut in his brain suddenly exploded open, all of his past confusion and anger and hurt and adoration flooding out at once. Stiles? Was it actually Stiles?!

Stiles, the guy he’d had a crush on for fucking years growing up. The guy who’d been an absolute dick to him their whole last year of high school.

The guy who’d told him he loved him in a dirty men’s bathroom on prom night while drunk and upset because he thought Kira was Derek’s girlfriend.

That Stiles? But it couldn’t be!

Marks and Mics by DLanaDHZ

Hale siblings Derek and Laura have been hired to run security for Stiles Stilinski's music tour. Business as usual, except someone is trying really hard to prove they're incapable and hurt Stiles. Derek finds himself curious about Stiles' bitter attitude and a strange illness that plagues the singer. And on top of that, Derek's soulmate remains elusive.

Written Can’t Be Denied by lookslikenico, winglesswarrior

Since time immemorial the story of ‘soulmates’ has persisted. In short, the idea that somewhere out there is your perfect match, the one person who can complete you and with whom you can find total happiness.

The story goes that, the first time you meet your ‘soulmate’, the universe will give you a sign in what should be the most obvious way - somewhere in your immediate vicinity the word ‘soulmate’ will appear. If reports of ‘soulmates’ are to be believed, rather than being written of as hopeful delusions, then this ‘obvious’ signal is anything but, fleeting as it is. The word seemingly only appears for a matter of moments and only when two people first meet. There is no guarantee that they will be looking in the correct direction to see it, nor that they will have any idea who their supposed ‘soulmate’ actually is.

A fact that causes havoc the day that up and coming actor, Stiles Stilinski holds up a bottle emblazoned with the word 'soulmate' in the middle of a press conference where Derek Hale is working as a photographer, in the middle of the worst day of his life...

Connected by readridinghood

After the death of his wife, Stiles finds himself left alone with their three children, struggling to keep from being sucked into a void of grief and despair that her death left him with. Knowing his children are safe in the pack's arms under Derek's watchful eyes, he struggles to regain his footing. What do you do when the world keeps tumbling over you and what you've thought of as fact no longer holds true? As the world comes back into focus, so does the love for Derek he thought he'd long since conquered and now with his eyes open, what he thought was the end of him, is only a new beginning. A decade after he fell in love with Stiles, countless days of keeping himself restrained while building a friendship with him, Derek finds out with absolute certainty that Stiles is his mate. You only mate once in your life, so how is it that Stiles was mated to Sophia, his wife and mother of his three children, the woman he is grieving the loss of at the same moment that Derek makes his discovery.

Three Marks by sanam

"And then there was pain again, but this time it was in only three places—his arm, below his clavicle, and next to his heart, all on the left side. It felt like the skin was being sliced apart, ripped open, flayed off— And suddenly it was done. Derek looked across the room and saw the boy on the floor, looking about as bad as Derek felt."

Derek and Stiles learn that bonding is probably best done with ridiculous amounts of video games and maybe a little bit of time.

Other fics (at least 50K)

Rich Man, Poor Man by TyReed

During a first date gone horribly wrong, Stiles Stilinksi realizes that the snarky guy he's been asked out by is actually Derek Hale, an heir to Hale Industries, one of the most profitable companies in the entire world. Who is, for whatever reason, interested in the son of a teacher and a cop, a loser who spends all weekend watching movies in his pajamas, and who is also possibly one of the biggest dorks on the Internet.

At the same time, after screwing up their first date horribly, Derek Hale realizes that the funny guy he's asked out is Stiles Stilinksi, the warmest and kindest individual he's ever met in his life, with a family just a loving and caring. Who is, for whatever reason, interested in a guy who screws up everything he does, lacks any semblance of a backbone, and who is possibly one of the biggest history dorks in all of the United States.

These rich and poor men will come to experience a taste of each other's lives, and learn where the real blessings in the world can be found.

Feel it like a fever, burning through the night by LunaCanisLupus_22

“That was my favourite fern,” Deaton declares and Stiles glances at Scott for clarification that such a ridiculous statement just came out of his boss’ mouth.

“You could have just told me not to touch it,” Stiles points out sensibly, squirming inside with something he refuses to believe might be guilt.

Not about the dumb plant, but the instant devastation he’s currently overwhelmingly and inescapably capable of. He can destroy with one touch now.

This is going to complicate things so much.

Or the one where Stiles tries to do the noble self-sacrificing thing: gains a new power, a spectral skin colour and basically ruins his own life. 0/10 would not recommend.

It’s (Not) a Cult by lhr111

“Well Stiles, you told me a few weeks ago that you thought Derek was leading a cult.”

At that Derek whipped his head toward Stiles in shock. “You thought I was a cult leader?”

Stiles will not be shamed. “Well, either you or Peter. Peter made more sense, but since he deferred to you that one time I was a little unsure. I mean, what else could I think with all the weird shit going on. You, hanging out with random high school seniors, doing secret things, ordering them around like you are their parent, them actually doing what you tell them. It’s really weird, okay?”

“Are you familiar with Harry Potter?” Derek asks.

Talk about a non sequitur. “What? What does that have to do with anything? And, of course I know Harry Potter!”

“Well to quote Sirius Black, ‘Once again you’ve put your keen and penetrating mind to the task and as usual come to the wrong conclusion.’"

The Sheriff starts snickering, and Stiles is both insulted and also a little in love.

Call Me (Cliché) by SomewheresSword

When the sheriff's sister ends up in a wheelchair for the duration of summer, Stiles' dreams of three months full of pack bonding, late-night video games and bro-time with Scott come crashing down. He's temporarily relocated to Redford, a three hour drive away, and he can already tell he won't be getting many visitors.

Sure the pack will forget about him while he's gone, Stiles is determined to make the most of his summer of isolation, training his body and mind - and his magic - so he can come back with a bang, and maybe catch a certain Sourwolf's eye.

Then Derek shows up at his window one night with a flimsy excuse about needing research done. Suddenly, his summer away is looking a whole lot more interesting.

There’s No Escape for the Potato Man by isthatbloodonhisshirt (wasterella)

“Who is this? Where’s Erica?”

“Wrong number, asshole!”

“Stop calling me an asshole,” the man on the other end snapped aggressively.

Stiles could understand. He’d be pretty aggressive too if he’d murdered someone and texted a wrong number to ask for help burying the body. This guy obviously failed How To Be a Serial Killer 101.

“What kind of idiot thinks I murdered someone?”

“The kind of idiot who got your text messages, you fucking dumbass!” he retorted hotly. “Maybe double check your contacts before sending a random stranger details on your nefarious plans to dispose of a freshly cut up body!”

“What?!” the guy on the other end demanded, crossed between horrendously confused and livid.

---------------

If you want more soulmate fics you can check that tag here

you can also find more long fics here and here

Happy Reading :)

[irie-kun306]

Deux Mondes

Chapter I

"how did I get here, how did it all end up like this?"

"ah! yes! I remember, that woman who thinks she knows everything! She got me into this and now I don't even know where the hell I am!!!!"

"Although... now that I remember it well.... it's my fault too... I was so damn distracted by... agh, fuck it! Forget it, better forget it. I didn't even stop to ask him what that device he had invented was all about... I just remember he said something about traveling to different places in different time... or something like that?"

"well that doesn't matter anymore...what's done is done...but.... where am I..."

.

.

.

.

TIME BEFORE THE FAILURE OF THE EXPERIMENT...

The sun peeks through a window the thin rays of its white light, the person in the room stirs in his sheets, the sun has hit his face directly, it is 5:30 AM, he gets up heavily, goes to the bathroom and takes a cold shower, he let the jets of cold water hit his body, the water slid down his soft and somewhat tanned skin, changing the temperature of it.

She comes out of the bathroom, she looks at herself in the mirror, her hair was still dripping, she only used a towel around her waist, she takes another towel from the closet and gently dries her hair, she decides to wear her usual clothes, but with a difference, today she will not wear the armor, in front of the mirror she puts on the remaining clothes, she has finished, still in front of the mirror she looks at her face, He swallows thickly and exhales heavily, it is the day, he has decided, he has thought about it for a long time, now everything is clear, he will tell her, he will tell her what he has felt for so long since he saw her, he will finally tell her what he had denied for so long, "his feelings".

He slides the glass door and takes flight, he will go to that place, that place where so many times he used to meet him to train, that place where he saw them get carried away by the emotion of the sound of their fists colliding on the opponent's skin, that place where they seemed to be themselves, without ties, without regrets, without anyone else but the two of them, a universe in which they were the only inhabitants.

But this time it was different, this time it was he who summoned him to that place. And there he was, waiting for him, something very rare indeed, he is not usually very punctual, but there he was, he turned when he felt his presence and gave him a smile, this accelerated a little more his already agitated heart.

He slowly steps forward until his boots touch the grass, he slowly approaches and the other does the same.

-Hello vegeta!!!" he says naturally as every time he sees him.

-Kakaroto- he says, trying to disguise his nervousness a little, he can hear how his heart beats, <<how noisy>> he thinks, but he doesn't take off his typical mask of "I don't care about anything", that mask that has helped him since time immemorial since he can remember.

-It's strange that you asked me to come to train, it's more common that I'm the one who asks you to come," he says a little surprised. But he plays it down, "Well, let's get started then," he says, getting into a fighting pose.

-I didn't call you for that," he says coldly.

Goku leaves his battle pose and with a big question mark looks at him puzzled.

-So?" he asks.

-There's something I have to tell you..." Now you could notice a bit of his nervousness, he took a long breath and looked away.

-y... What do you have to tell me?" curiosity had invaded him.

-Kakaroto... I... I've realized that you are a formidable warrior, it's hard for me to admit it, but that's how it is..." he was still looking to the side.

-Goku didn't say anything, he was stupefied, Vegeta saying that he was a formidable warrior? That was something strange, it was even scaring him a little, maybe this morning he had woken up in an alternate world or maybe he was still asleep.

-You are very childish and innocent sometimes, that was something that bothered me, I couldn't believe that there was a benevolent sayajin who fights just for fun. For a while I hated you with all my strength, I focused that all I felt for you was hatred because you always surpassed me in powers, my pride is something I have put before all things, and I stayed on earth with the excuse of wanting to surpass you, but I have realized that was a lie... I was lying to myself, now I know it. I realized it in that battle with Majin Boo- he was still looking at the horizon, but now he turns and looks at him with great decision in the eyes.

-Now I know what I feel for you," he says looking at Goku, who was still without saying a word but was looking at Vegeta with great attention, even though he couldn't believe what his ears were hearing.

-And you better listen well because I won't repeat it, insect," he closes his eyes, takes a long breath and slowly lets it out and opens his eyes, "and- ... I love you Kakaroto... I love you," he blurts out with great decision and without hesitation.

Goku's face was like "What?" the poor guy didn't believe it, then he thought, << Vegeta sure is joking... if that must be... it's the most logical thing>> is then that he laughs as only he knows how to do it, now Vegeta was the one who had a face of complete surprise.

Goku straightened up and looked at his eternal rival, he looked him in the eyes, those deep black eyes that made him feel so strange, now that he thought about it, he never hated the prince, in fact, he always liked him, even when he was his enemy, his intention was never to kill him or anything like that, he was always the only one who he could always face almost as equals, the only one who seemed to understand him, the only one who never judged him or forced him to do something he didn't want <<like working for example>> but. ... Could it be that what she feels for him... that nervousness, that inexplicable happiness she felt when she saw him coming... but then came to his mind the memory of Gohan, Goten and Milk, his family, he couldn't just leave her, now that he had some time with Milk he could understand the meaning of some things, and the fact that Vegeta loved him meant that if he loved him back he would have to leave his current family. No! he couldn't leave his family for something he didn't even know if he really felt, and thinking about that he decided.

-Vegeta... I don't love you... I don't see you that way... you are... my friend and I can't see you as something else... but, I want us to keep training as usual... so... how about if we pretend this never happened? Yes?...- he said even a little hesitantly.

The answer for Vegeta was like a bucket of the coldest water that could exist, he felt how ice daggers pierced his chest, Goku's words gave no respite to his broken heart, it was broken, the sound it made when it broke sure could be heard even on the other side of the continent, and then the very synical one comes out with

"but I want to keep training with you so... how about we pretend this never happened?"

Vegeta stood there in silence looking like he was gathering anger, hidden even in a surprised face.

-Well Vegeta... if we don't train today then let's train tomorrow..... well then bye- he said seeing that Vegeta didn't react, he put his fingers on his forehead and saying bye he gave him a last smile and teleported home.

He was left alone there... with his heart shattered, he had opened up to him, he showed him his feelings and put them in his hands, and what did he do? He squeezed those feelings as if they were nothing and threw them on the ground and then trampled on them as if they were nothing but garbage, the stabbing pain in his chest, a lump in his throat and endless tears that he did not let go because his pride came out at that moment, his pride that is what always kept him out of this danger that not even all the powers of the world could defeat. Now he would cling to it.

-Then you want me to forget it.... don't you?"-his voice threatened to crack, but he clenched his fists tightly, and looked straight ahead,-then so be it..... - he blurted out angrily.

Vegeta flew back to capsule corp. He got into his room, took off all his clothes and got into the bathtub, he wanted the hot water to take away all those memories, he wanted the relaxing smell of salts and oils to penetrate his thoughts and cloud everything until nothing was left, he looked at the white floor of the bathroom, as if he was looking for the meaning of life, his look was sad.

She sank into the large bathtub, a few minutes passed, holding her breath was something of the simplest.

When he got out he went to the closet and put on some black spandex, a white tank top, this one was a little loose and the fall of it marked the hips of its user in an extremely sensual way, he also put on some Nike air Jordan type flight sneakers, but he didn't

He was not entirely comfortable, "stupid shoes" he said "why does Bulma have to buy me this kind of shoes? I like my usual boots better."

So he exchanged them for his white boots and then put on some leather fingerless biker gloves.

He went downstairs to train in the gravity chamber, surely training with all his strength would make him forget, he always did.

Bulma was in the laboratory, she was making a new invention, this time she would try to win that international fair of scientists, she would surpass all those illusions that did not believe that she deserved that blessed prize.

Her invention now consisted of a machine that would make people travel through time, but it was not like the other machine she invented, this one would not only make them travel to another time but also transport them to other universes at the same time.

But she felt that her calculations might be wrong, something did not fit, maybe some algorithm was wrongly written, but she had to test it, she had to test the machine to clear these doubts and find the problem that did not let her move forward, but with whom? With whom?

It is then that the answer to her prayers passes by her door, Vegeta who was passing by to go to the gravity chamber to start training, was interrupted by the voice of her friend.

"In this case Bulma knew that Vegeta was not with her for love, but for the fact of taking responsibility for his actions << Trunks>> but the earth woman had endeared herself to the sayajin prince, not in the way she wanted but she had managed to make a space in his heart, she had managed to become his friend, so she had been content to at least be that in the prince's life."

-Vegeta!" the woman calls him.

-What do you want, woman? Can't you see I'm busy," he said a little tired, he was not in the mood to talk to someone.

-Come on, Vegeta, don't be like that... I just need you for a moment... I won't keep you long.

It is then that Vegeta looks at her and looks around, he sees that there is a new machine, it is then that he understood, "so you want to try that, don't you?" it was then that without listening to the woman he crossed his arms and went straight to the machine and at once he entered it.

-Hurry up woman, I don't have all day," said Vegeta in the machine.

It is then that Bulma runs to the computer, inserts coordinates, prepares the machine and looks at Vegeta.

-Well Vegeta, the purpose of the machine is to take you...".

-Yeah! -Woman... Just get on with it and get it over with," says Vegeta, interrupting her, already a little tired.

-What a genius..." says Bulma, but why get into an argument, when he gets like that there's no one who can beat him.

Bulma closed the door of the machine, went to the front of the PC and started to look at the logarithms, graphs and everything and then put on some protective glasses.

Everything seemed to be going well, the portal would be next to the machine as Bulma had planned... but.... something went wrong, the PC began to fail and the data and coordinates to distort, the machine began to crumble and everything began to spark, Bulma wanted to stop everything but could not, Vegeta inside the machine only saw how everything began to get chips, Vegeta tried to get out but when he wanted to touch the door the machine exploded, during the explosion Vegeta closed his eyes due to the light, Bulma during the big flash only managed to see how Vegeta fell into the portal next to him and it closed with him.

-Vegeta!!!" shouted the woman, she ran to the PC and almost fell off the desk, she put it back in its position and tried to turn it on, but it wouldn't turn on, she was totally desperate, where did he send Vegeta, did he kill him, did he send him to an unknown dimension, did he leave him lost in space time, could he come back?

Bulma couldn't stop thinking about where Vegeta could be... the only thing she remembered, or rather the only thing she could see was Vegeta falling into the portal and disappearing with it.

Trunks arrived a few minutes later, he had heard the explosion from far away and a little closer to home he heard his mother's scream.

-Mom," said Trunks.

-Trunks...- Bulma approaches the little boy and hugs him, the youngest still doesn't know the cause of his mother's sudden behavior.

Then he looks at the whole mess, he doesn't know what happened, he starts to analyze, he remembers he heard his mother shouting his father's name, he thinks they fought.... but no... that would be something strange... his father would not destroy the laboratory, but where was he then?... he wanted to locate his ki but he could not find it, it is then that he separates from his mother and asks.

-Mom... Where is daddy? I can't feel his ki....

.

.

.

PRESENT TENSE

As he sits in a meadow surrounded by white wildflowers, he notices that he is on the earth, but something is different... it feels and looks like the earth but it is different... something is wrong.

"how did i get here?"

Hey... hi everyone, this is just a test, something just to see if you were interested in this story, this crossover fanfic.

Comment if you liked it and if you expect one more chapter.

[toothpastecanyon]

Noie’s Brother, Chapter 10

Thanks to @feferipeixes for helping to beta read this chapter :D

Fate sometimes rhymed, but Alcor felt like this one was a little on the nose. A newborn Mizar fading away in the hospital and a loving father pleading to him from behind a circle of candles.

Fate sometimes rhymed, but Naomi Argenta just wants this stupid vampire to stop harassing her brother. It's making him go... weird.

See most updated version on Archive of Our Own.

________________________________________________________________

                               “I need your help.”

               Noie stood there for a moment, staring up at the towering figure of the angel before her. This thing... needed her help? Seriously?  Before she could put her questions into words, the angel spoke again.

                               “I see you are bound.”

               “Huh?” Noie frowned as she watched an officer start to fiddle with her handcuffs. “Oh, yeah… you did that.”

                               “I did not bind you.”

               “What? You did - you know, with the whole possessing two dudes to drag us up here?”

                               “Possession?” There was a gentle laugh. “No, no, you misunderstand my methods. A demon possesses; an angel merely guides.”

               ‘Guides’? Really? Noie fought to keep the skepticism off her face, but the angel seemed to pick up on it; both the officers cleared their throats and swiftly continued:

                               “It is much better. It is not a subjugation of will; it is a request, one they can simply deny if they are not willing. I guide them towards a goal, but I do not puppeteer their bodies like demons do - why would I, when humans are reasonably capable of performing my tasks under their own volition?”

               Noie heard the angel chuckle again. There was a click, and the cuffs around her wrists came loose.

                               “Yes, sometimes they perform it in a less than optimal way, but possession is so unnecessary, so crude, so… controlling, and I do not like to use it on my chosen people.” The officer drew back from Noie, absently fiddling with the cuffs in their hand. “I prefer you to be free.”

               With that, the angel fell silent. She rubbed her wrists, still frowning, still feeling like something was terribly, terribly off… but where to even start?

               Dipper was still sagging in the other officer’s grip; she shuffled closer to him, and cast her eyes around the whole classroom.

               “Where’s… where’s everyone in my class?”

                               “I evacuated everyone in the building for this discussion. They will return when it is concluded.”

               Noie made a face. “Why’d you do that?”

                               “For their own safety. I wanted to minimise any potential human casualties that could occur.”

               “Um, what?” A startled laugh came out of her. “What on earth do you think I’m gonna do to you, dude?”

               Both the officers snorted at that.

                               “No, no, you are not capable of posing such an existential threat. Obviously I was not referring to you.”

               One pointed to the other, at the drooping figure of Dipper Argenta held firmly in his grasp.

                               “I was referring to that.”

               There was an edge to the Angel’s voice, there, a coldness that sent shivers down Noie’s spine. She watched Dipper groan, watched his head loll to the side, and she couldn’t help but notice how tightly the officer was gripping his arms.  Her heart sank at the sight of white knuckles, and kept on sinking as the angel continued.

                               “If your concerns have been sufficiently assuaged, I would like to enlist your help with a demon I have unexpectedly encountered while-”

               “He’s not a demon!” Noie snapped. The officers’ eyebrows shot up; the angel was clearly taken by surprise.

                               “Not a demon? Tell me what you mean when you say that.”

               “I mean he’s not!” She glared right at its true form. “He’s not! I don’t know what’s going on right now with everyone trying to tell me he’s some kind of demon - he’s just not, he’s a normal human guy! He’s my brother, my twin brother! How the fuck could he be a demon i-if- well, it just doesn’t make sense, okay!”

               Noie paused for breath, and noticed both the officers had started to smile. Her glare darkened.

               “What? What’s so funny?”

                               “The vampire.” As one, they chuckled and shook their heads. “I was confused about why you were jumping to such an unexpected conclusion, but now I see where you were mislead.”

               “Huh?”

                               “It would be patently ridiculous to suggest that your mortal brother is a demon in disguise. Of course he would be a normal human child.”

               Noie blinked. “But what-”

                               “Unfortunately - and this is why your family has gained some unwanted attention - his body is being possessed by an ancient and powerful demon.” The officers’ faces twisted into a grimace. “His name is Alcor the Dreambender, and he loves nothing more than to twist humans into his playthings.”

               “But… but he’s not-”

                               “I already told you, your brother is not Alcor. Your brother is not who I am referring to here. Your brother is normal; the Dreambender is a monster.”

               Noie just shook her head. She could hardly form words. “No, no, that’s… he’s not-”

                               “You mean to say his body is not possessed?” The officers crossed their arms. “I forgive you for denying me, but why do you deny your own truth?”

               “N-no?” She stepped back. “What? I’m not-”

                               “Then why do you deny what your eyes have seen, what your ears have heard? You are a smart young human, in possession of all your mortal senses; tell me, what do they say of Alcor the Dreambender?”

                               The yellow eyes. The magic headaches. Mabel Pines, all those wikipedia articles, and everything Lucy Ann said-

               No, wait! Stop it! Stop it!

                               All these thoughts were careening nonstop across her mind and Noie tried to block them out, tried to think of something else, anything else, but her mind was fixed on Dipper and her eyes wouldn’t stop staring at Dipper and her foot caught on the leg of a chair and she stumbled and the angel...

               The angel was there. Quick as a flash, an officer reached out and caught her before she fell. She yelped, pushed off his hands and backed away.

               He remained perfectly still, and Noie could see his expression had turned strangely solemn. When the angel spoke again, it was just through the one man, and it was quiet.

                               “I did not want to put you through that.” He said. “You must forgive me if this conversation causes you distress; this is not a situation any human would want to find themselves in… especially one already shouldering burdens she finds hard to bear.”

               He looked up at Noie, and her breath caught in her throat.

                               “You are young, child. But I see how old this life has forced you to become.” His face creased with sympathy, and he sighed. “The adults in your life, they have turned their eyes to the screen and not to their responsibilities, and you have stepped up in their absence. Because you needed to. Because your brother needed you to.”

               Noie didn’t know what to say; she managed a faint, “What?” and stared at the officer as he began to walk forwards.

                               “I see that all. I see how deeply it’s hurt you, and how wholly it’s blinded you to the problems you cannot fix: you have learned to ignore them, for if you cannot fix them, nobody will fix them for you, will they?” He stepped right up to her. “And a demon? A child like you cannot hope to stand against such a catastrophic force of evil. What is there for you to do but to simply put it out of mind, to deny the reality and thus the terror, to focus on the issues that are in your power to change?”

               With wide eyes, she watched him reach out, and put a hand on her shoulder.

                               “I can see all of this. I can see you, child, and… I am sorry. This is not the path you were meant to walk.” He shook his head, his brow furrowing. “No, I see this is not the first time the Dreambender has played his games with the ones you love.”

               Noie’s breath caught in her throat. Not the first time? What did he mean? She’d barely even heard of this demon guy up until now; when was this ‘other time’ he… oh.

               Oh, right.

               Oh, she did know what he was referring to.

                               “You don’t remember the first time, it seems.” His words dropped like stones in her gut. “You were too young.”

               “You’re talking about what happened with… w-with my father, right?” Her heart was pounding at her throat; she swallowed hard. “So Dipper was right, it was Alcor? O-or he had something to do with it? What happened!”

               He just gave a sad smile, and patted her shoulder.

               “Do you know what happened?” She watched him turn away from her. “Hello?”

               The officer walked up to Dipper, hands clasped behind his back. His boots were loud on the carpet.

                               “What happened in the past...” he started, and then paused. He stopped in front of her brother. He squared his heels. He cleared his throat, and spoke again: “...is not good for humans to dwell on.”

               With two fingers, he lifted Dipper’s chin, and turned his face from side to side as if examining it.

                               “I came here to set my people free from the past, to rid their world of evils that have plagued them since time immemorial… And I will free you, too.”

               “Free me?”

                               “Yes.” Dipper groaned; the officer took his hand away. “I will free you and all of humanity from the whims of this demon. His games of possession are twisted indeed, but they present an opportunity to bring about his downfall. I am already making the necessary arrangements; it should only take a couple of days before everything is in place.” His eyes flitted up to her. “But in the meantime, I do need your help.”

               Noie’s frown had been deepening as he spoke, and now she took a step back.

                               “It is nothing major, but it is important. The Dreambender is a powerful being, and were he to break out of his construct and uncover our plans, he would be… upset with us.”

               She made a face. “Okay? What am I supposed to do about that?”

                               “As I am sure you have noticed, I have a particular effect on victims of possession.” The officer paced around Dipper, but she found her eyes sliding over to the angel’s true form, standing motionless in the front of the classroom. “My presence stirs the demon within them; it invokes from their possessor such a primal surge of rage that they cannot help but distrust me. You can see, I am sure, how this would make it difficult for me to protect your brother from any threats that may arise before I am able to return him to a normal state of mind.”

               “Threats? Someone’s gonna attack him?”

                               “No, no, nothing quite so physical. But the mind here is… complicated. How would I best describe it to you?” For a moment, he seemed to grapple for an analogy. “It is as if the mind stands on thin ice. A vast darkness lurks beneath, and any reminders of that darkness would be like cracks beneath his feet. If it thinks too much of magic, of demons, of Alcor, your brother will fall through and be consumed.”

               Noie remembered the headaches he’d been getting over the past few days, the ever-present forehead rubbing he’d do whenever Alcor came up. She gulped, hard.

               “Consumed? So wait, he’d be-”

                               “And remember this.”

               Abruptly, he turned and fixed her with a look that sent shivers down her spine.

                               “Anything that calls itself a friend of Alcor is trying to destroy your brother. Think of that before you make any regrettable decisions.”

               At that he fell silent, just watching Noie. That expression he was wearing… nothing about it looked unpleasant, but there was something so inexplicably off-putting that it made her want to melt into the floor. She nodded, hoping it was an answer he was waiting on, and in the moments afterwards all she could think about was

                               An empty bunk bed. A lonely bus ride. A world without Dipper beside her.

                               Could you imagine that world?

                               Could you imagine what her days would look like? Who would she even talk to if she didn’t have her brother? Who would she have to rely on?

                               Could you imagine if she had to climb past his empty bed every night to go to sleep? Staring up at the ceiling, with nothing but her thoughts and the deathly silence where she used to hear him snoring… Imagine how long she’d lie there, missing him so much it would ache, torturing herself with all the scenarios where he’d still be with her, if only she’d just done something a little differently…

                               Could you imagine how that would feel if it was all her fault?

               Could you imagine!

Could you imagine.

               Noie didn’t notice she was being hugged until she blinked and found herself wrapped up in someone’s embrace. It wasn’t the officer - it was her teacher, her math teacher she barely knew the name of, and she realised she was crying when she felt her gasp catch on the lump in her throat. She was full blown sobbing and long past the point of holding it in and when the teacher squeezed her tight she wrapped her arms around the lady and buried her face in her shoulder and for a moment she didn’t even care how embarrassing this was, she wanted to stay hidden away here forever…

                               “Shhh, child, don’t cry.” Spoke her teacher in that same, dreamy tone. “I am here now.”

               Noie froze up.

                               “Do not worry yourself about this demon any longer. Let me fix what you cannot. Let me take care of this.”

               “I-I…” Her voice shook too hard to talk. The teacher gave another squeeze.

                               “In a few days, everything will be back to normal. I will send for you then. In the meantime,” she let go and stepped back. “You may carry on as if it already is.”

               Noie squinted her eyes at the light, then opened them wide at the sight of her classmates filing into the room. In an orderly line, they took their chairs, picked up their pens, and started scribbling down notes on their homework. She looked for Dipper, and found he’d been placed in his assigned seat; he was slumped over the desk like he’d merely fallen asleep.

                               “Take your seat, please.” The teacher flashed her a smile as she took her place by the whiteboard. “I thank you for agreeing to help me, and again, I apologise for this abrupt interruption to your schedule. I have taken steps to mitigate its effects - unfortunately, I cannot erase your brother’s memories, but I hope this is otherwise a seamless transition.” She waved. “Good luck with your studies, child.”

               With that, she uncapped a marker and turned to finish the problem left half solved on the board. The tall, glowing figure of the angel pulsed once, then winked out of existence. Noie stood there, staring at the space it had occupied, still frozen in shock.

               What… just happened?

               “Now x is- what is x?” The teacher’s voice - it sounded normal now - made her jump. “Can anyone raise their hand and… Naomi, why are you out of your seat?”

               Noie saw the whole class turn to her. She blinked.

               “Is everything okay?”

               “Everything…? Um, I- um...” She shook herself. “No, nevermind! Sorry!”

               Then she scuttled over to her desk. The teacher frowned.

               “Alright, then. Well, who can tell me what x is? Somebody else other than Audrey, please.”

               “No, wait, excuse me?” Audrey was sitting in the front row, nervously fluttering her wings. “Can I, um, can I go to the nurse, please? I don’t feel well…”

               Noie frowned at her textbook, already open on her desk. Her math book had today’s problems filled out in a handwriting so neat it looked like a font. She glanced over at Dipper and saw he was lying on a similarly arranged spread of pages, with his backpack zipped up and stashed under his chair.

               She wrinkled her nose. When’d he have the time to set up all that? Weird.

               This whole thing was just… just weird.

               Before she could think on that much more, the bell rang and startled her. Dipper jumped too; he clenched up tight, then spread back out with a long, painful groan.

               “Already?” Noie’s teacher made a ‘huh’ sound as she stood up. “Time flies. Well, everyone make sure you’ve turned your homework in at the basket - with your names on it, please! Tomorrow we’ll be going over…”

               Noie tiptoed over to her brother. He looked normal enough - clearly in the middle of a bad headache, yes, but still normal. Not a demon, not doing anything weird, just Dipper. His face was down on the desk while one hand rooted around his chair for a backpack, and she’d meant to ask if he was okay but the words didn’t come when she opened her mouth; she just stood there, staring at him, taking in this one moment of normality.

               After everything that had just happened, everything she’d been told… she could feel a lump rising back up in her throat.

               And that was when Dipper spoke. He muttered something she didn’t quite catch, so Noie blinked back a blurriness in her eyes and leaned forwards.

               “Hey, Di- ugh.” Her voice came out hoarse; she cleared it. “Hey Dipper! Morning, sleepyhead, um… how’s that book pillow feeling?”

               “I can’t believe you.”

               Noie heard that, and her blood ran cold. Her smile froze on her face.

               Oh… wow. He did not sound very happy, did he.

               “What do you mean, bro br-”

               “You know exactly what I mean!” He sat up, shooting her a furious look - and did his eyes flicker for a second there? “I told you we were gonna get in trouble taking that ‘shortcut’, I told you!”

               She backed away. “I-”

               “But you didn’t listen to me - no, it’s worse, you had to go and rope me into this and I…” Dipper paused. “Wait, are you crying?”

               “What? No!” She abruptly turned and started shoving textbooks into her bag. “We gotta go to history, Dipper. We’ll be late.”

               “History? Wait, we’re in… math class?”

               He sounded confused now; Noie glanced back and saw him looking around the classroom like he’d just noticed where he was.

               “But wait, we were… I thought we were getting arrested? How did we get back here? What happened while I was out?”

               Noie opened her mouth, then closed it and just shrugged. She tensed up at a hand on her shoulder.

               “No, seriously, what happened?” Dipper was frowning at her; she could see it from the corner of her eye. “Noie? Are you okay?”

               The concern in his voice made her cringe, even more than when he was shouting at her. “I…” She gripped her bag until her knuckles went white, then cleared her throat again. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

               Then she zipped it up and slung it over her back, ignoring Dipper’s startled “Huh?”

               “We off to history class yet?” Keeping her head firmly turned away from him, Noie tried for a weak smile. “I think we’re gonna have to run again. Boo. I’ll, uh, I’ll race you.”

               “Noie?”

               She started walking. “What’s that?”

               “Hey, wait, Noie!” Papers shuffled, and Dipper caught up to her with his bag half-open and his arms full of textbooks. “I just-”

               She opened the door for him. “After you.”

               “Oh, uh, thanks? Noie-”

               “I bet these would make nice drums.” Noie banged out the Nario theme on a row of passing lockers. “Dun dun dun dun-dun-dun, dun!”

               “Noie, can you stop for a second?” Dipper rubbed his shoulder. “What did you mean by… you don’t know what I’m talking about? You don’t remember - you know, there was a whole thing where you wanted to take a shortcut for some reason…?”

               He was looking to her face for an answer; she kept it blank.

               “No?” Dipper frowned. “Are you sure?”

               “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she repeated, then: “Hey, do you wanna watch me do a cartwheel?”

               “But if you don’t remember… and I just woke up in math class - so was that all a dream, o-or something?” He was so lost in thought, he didn’t notice Noie pull off a cartwheel right next to him. “It didn’t feel like a dream…? But yeah, why would we randomly go off on a shortcut and then… get arrested? That doesn’t make sense…”

               He trailed off, and Noie just watched him think it over, watched his expression sink further into an annoyed confusion - he could tell he was missing something, she knew, and that made her stomach twist a little.

               “Um,” she started. “Maybe it’s like that vampire dream you had?”

               “Huh, I mean, that… that might be it. It didn’t have her in it, though.”

               Noie could only shrug at that. They kept on walking, out the door and through the grassy courtyard, and finally, Dipper broke the silence with a sigh.

               “Noie?”

               “Yyyyyes?”

               “Um, I think that must’ve been a dream, then.” He grimaced. “I’m really sorry for shouting at you over it.”

               Noie blinked, then shook her head. “No, no, you don’t need to say sorry-”

               “Yeah, I do, I was all yelling at you about stuff that… well, didn’t happen, I guess.” Dipper tried to laugh, but it came out as a groan. “Um… that’s embarrassing, I’m sorry. This has been a really, really weird week for me.”

               She didn’t trust herself to say anything to that. After a moment of looking down at his shoes, he continued.

               “I just… I haven’t really been getting anywhere with the vampire thing, Noie. And new, random stuff like this keeps cropping up - it feels like it’s getting worse.” He rubbed his head. “I’ve been getting headaches for days now, but they don’t even seem to be related to magic anymore, they just… happen. Stuff’s just been happening lately, and I don’t know what to do about it.”

               Noie watched him out of the corner of her eye. She watched him yawn, watched him rub his reddened eyes and the bags, deep and purple, under them. She hadn’t really noticed how exhausted he’d been looking lately, but now it was all too apparent.

               “I just…” Dipper started, hesitated, and then sighed. “I don’t know. I don’t know, Noie.”

               He went quiet, and for a time their footsteps were the only sound to be heard. Noie ran through a million little words of comfort in her head, but they all seemed to come up so short, and came off so shallow in her head. Maybe it was because she already knew what she wanted to say to him; no other words fit so precisely than the ones she wasn’t allowed to say.

               After a time, she put a hand on Dipper’s shoulder, and tried out a pale imitation.

               “Um, Dipper?”

               “Yeah?”

               “I’m sure… I’m sure we’ll get to the bottom of this.” Noie gave him a thin smile. “Don’t worry too much about it, okay? I’m sure we’ll find a way to get you back to normal real soon.”

               He didn’t look entirely convinced. “Yeah, I hope that’s what happens. What if we don’t, though?”

               “Oh, I’ve got a feeling we will.”

               “You’re being… awfully optimistic about this. Even more than usual.”

               “Yeah, cause you’re being even more of a downer than usual - I gotta balance you out!” She ruffled his hair. “C’mon, everything’ll work itself, bro. Mystery Twins are on the case!”

               “Hah…” Dipper’s laugh cut short as she leaned on him. “Wait, Noie- Ow, ow, ow, Noie!”

               “What? Are you okay?”

               “Yeah, yeah, sorry, it’s just… my shoulder.” He rubbed it, frowning. “Did I sleep on it wrong, or something? Ow… ”

               Noie’s heart caught in her throat. Oh, right, his shoulder… Oh, shit, his shoulder, he was going to put it together any second now, shit shit shit-

               Fortunately for her, however, there came a noise from the building up ahead. Dipper looked up, and his eyes went wide.

               “Wait, is that the late bell?”

               “Yeah, sounds like it.”

               “Oh, shoot, Noie! We’re late!” He took off sprinting for the classroom, waving at her frantically with his good arm. “Come on! We gotta run!”

               Noie blinked. Then she followed after him, yelling, “Wait up, Dipper!” and thanking the stars for that little stroke of luck with the bell.

               Maybe she could keep this up for a few days. Maybe everything would turn out okay after all.

               Thoughts like those didn’t make the pit in her stomach go away, no, but it was nice to finally have something to hold onto.

[socratoteles]

Older than Cobain

It is safe to say that I am older than Cobain now. Looking back, as I exited the famed 27 Club, I can empathize with his pain and angst, the existential dread that come from the simple fact of existing in this unhappy world and sudden realization that one day I will perish.

There are no obligatory essays over the past two years because life had just breezed over at that period. Having your energy drained from just doing your job on a daily basis would get you that, no matter how close that job to your dreamed, idealized ones you have been obsessing over since those teenage years.

In a sense, it is not necessarily bad. I am kind of old enough to recognize that life is not all about fiery sparks and carpe diem and adrenaline-ridden moods every day. Most of our lives will be lived in a daily repetitive routine and it is not a sin to get comfortable with. At the end of the day, it is a tremendous blessing to have a roof over your head, a bed to sleep in and a job to pay for the bills.

But that siren call was proved to be dangerous. The death of the beloved B.J Habibie – Indonesia’s third president – had triggered in me a thought that should have always been lingering ever since I was out from my mother’s womb: that I am a mere mortal who bows to the laws of thermodynamics and one day death, sooner or later, will be the end of me.

It was precisely because life has been good in recent years it exacerbated that mortifying thought. What am I doing here? What have I done? How close am I to the goals I had aspired?

I remembered going to bed feeling fearful of not being able to wake up, such contrast from those early years when my mom used to say “If you can’t wait for tomorrow, go to bed quickly”.

A mess of words printed over papers or posted in the internet will be my legacy and proof of my existence until time immemorial but eventually I will be just a name inscribed in a piece of wood or stone while Earth will continue to orbit the Sun long after I died.

I wondered at that time whether it was worth it, all this hustle under a capitalist system. Amid warming planet, unending conflicts and other horrifying tragedies occurring on a daily basis on this pale blue dot, we are pretty much fucked anyway.

I remembered feeling utterly hopeless because if there is afterlife, I will go to hell for simply being not a faithful practitioner of my religion, if there isn’t any, life is already hell anyway. Such is the pain of existence; I did not ask to be here yet here I am. I would like to avoid death but I will die.

It was as if I am living under this great scam because other people seemed to be just fine and moving forward with their lives peacefully, while I sweated over to manage my mental health and utterly terrified for the future.

But the miracle in this internet age is to find out that you`re not alone in facing whatever problems that come to your attention. This excellent essay in Aeon brilliantly showcased similar feelings that I’ve recently experienced, which the author described as existential shock.

In his essay, James Baillie wrote a spot-on analysis that on the subject of death; most people thought of it as a fact that will happen to someone else, not them, which to me explained why only after 27 years the thought of dying, that precise moment when your soul leaves your body, brought shudders throughout my body.

The solution, or parts of it, was to know that all living beings are equal in a sense that they will die, that nothing will be spared eventually. At least that’s what I found out. Also, there was no use to obsess over and being insecure about the future because it will come anyway.

In addition, the oracles of Delphi got their mantra right. There is no harm to know more about myself.

Following that tough ordeal, I learned that the freest humans are those who live without regret since death will come for us eventually.

There are still things to be thankful for, that out of a gazillion alternate universes that exist out there I live within this specific version where I can watch Justin Vernon sang Skinny Love on stage and still be able to give and receive love from friends, families, and lovers are among the things to be thankful for.

That’s the side effect from my first major existential crisis during my 27th: it had me feeling grateful. Perhaps it showed that I can still feel things, after all. And it forced me to appreciate every passing moment because of its fleeting passage and it will unlikely be repeated.

All my life so far could be split into two different sides of pendulum. The first swing had me as wisdom-gathering, retreating hermit from all worldly affairs because sometimes it was overwhelming and hurts just to have feelings in this chaotic universe.

The second swing would catapult me into this outgoing, adventurous and impulsive guy who cared for nothing but the present because that is the true gift of life.

I recently spent too much time on the first swing. It took me around five years – essentially, the first term of Jokowi administration – to move on from bad breakup.

Perhaps it’s high time to go out and enjoy the world again so that the heart that beats will not waste away.

[formlesscopycat]

More than the Roses

A Kuroko no Basuke fanfiction

Summary: Aomine is not into romantic words and gifts. Kise tells himself that it’s okay.

Tags: Established relationship, domestic boyfriends, future fic

Read on Ao3

.

I’m  not one for surprises…

Because Valentine’s Day isn’t really our thing.

...

All I need is him.

.

.

Kise knows there aren’t any surprises waiting for him today.

No flowers.

No chocolates.

No cheesy love notes tucked on gifts carefully wrapped in fancy paper.

It just wasn’t their sort of thing, making a big fuss over the so-called day of hearts.

Daiki thinks it’s only a huge-ass gimmickry, the perfect ploy of flower shops and bakeries to wring out  bucks from people’s pockets, as if love can be stowed into something too ordinary and tangible, not to mention, something that’s store-bought.

“Besides,” Daiki tells him, midnight-blue eyes serious, unwavering, “...you always knew how I felt for you, these gifts are too overrated, anyway.”

So Kise learns to dismiss all sorts of expectations, when a dash of crimson sneaks into his periphery, a delivery guy bearing a bouquet of roses approaches his desk (guy’s been the fifth one to do so today, because Kise’s desk is closest to the office entrance).

No, it doesn’t affect Kise at all, that the person the delivery guy had asked for is his co-worker, Takao Kazunari, whose head had immediately perked up at the sound of his name. Seated from the far end of the room, Takao is quick on his heels, bouncing beside Kise to meet the delivery guy and claim his gift.

And Kise ignores the slight twinge of jealousy ripping in his chest when Takao sniffs the roses, pulls the note card out from the tiny envelope and claps a hand over his mouth to suppress a laugh at what he just read.

“What did it say?” Kise dares to ask, he’s only curious, and that’s just about it.

Takao turns to him, cheeks aflame, slate-blue eyes practically sparkling. “Oh, it’s just my prudish Shin-chan! I just find it too funny when he’s being sweet like this.”

With lifted chin, Takao shows Kise the message.

Happy Valentine’s Day, gorgeous. Tonight is all ours.

Kise lets out a chuckle, it doesn’t sound like Midorima at all, he probably chose from the message templates that the flower shop had offered, but still, Kise would give him props for being the thoughtful and sweet boyfriend for this occasion.

“Tee-hee, that’s the love of my life! Gotta thank St. Valentine, we get to experience the cheesy side of our emotionally-challenged boyfriends even for once,” Takao remarks.

Kise chews on the corner of his bottom lip and goes quiet with a nod. For years, Daiki and himself hardly do anything special during Valentine’s Day, it just kind of... got obscured by their daily routines and busy schedule, more so because Daiki has been duty-bound and is always on-call as a police officer. It gets to a point where Kise no longer cares about Valentine’s Day too, doesn’t give much thought to it, that it completely slips out of his mind, until he walks to his office today and notice the considerable number of flowers, balloons and other gifts adorning his co-worker’s tables.

It’s even worse when Valentine’s Day falls on his and Daiki’s workday, like today, for instance.  It gets ditched from their schedule altogether, in favor of other ludicrous activities such as getting groceries and stuff. Kise recalls not having to greet Daiki Happy Valentine’s earlier this morning before each of them left for work, he recalls that today will be spent just as ordinarily as the day before, there is nothing special, it’s just their laundry day.

So while other couples will be holding each other’s hands inside movie theaters later or having dinner at high-end restaurants or both, Kise can just look forward to... doing chores with Daiki.

How stupidly romantic and domesticated is that, Kise reflects.

Not wanting to be weighed down by such miserable thoughts, Kise schools his emotions just enough, lets up a forced smile to his lips as he turns his attention back to his friend.

“You know us, we just low-key celebrate because we’re both busy,” Kise tells Takao as he leans back against his chair, not quite sure if he just imagined the bitter aftertaste of the words in his mouth. “Just dinner at home and that’s it.”

“And wild sex,” Takao adds, casual and unabashedly audible, like they’re not anywhere near their other co-workers.

“Right, the sex,” Kise agrees, realizing that no one is paying attention to them. His friend is right, sex is his saving grace. That, at least, is something he can work on, bring Daiki into the mood and make him fuck Kise senseless tonight. With Daiki being a total beast in the sheets, maybe he’ll insist on using the handcuffs again…

“Now, now… I see your thoughts are seriously going astray!” Takao laughs, shoulders bobbing up and down.

Kise’s face grows warmer. “No, I was just thinking about what I’m supposed to cook for dinner.”

“You are the lousiest liar!”

“Am not!”

“Ahem!”

Kise and Takao both turn their heads towards their brunet co-worker, Oikawa Tooru. If looks could gut, both he and Takao will be bleeding immensely on the floor by now, Kise thinks.

“In case you two haven’t noticed, people are working here and we’re not interested in your sexcapades!” Oikawa hisses, a dour expression on his face.

“Talk to you later, Single’s Awareness Day hits some of us hard,” Takao whispers with a wink.

Kise watches as Takao sashays back to his desk grinning from ear to ear, admiring the rose bouquet he got.  From the corner of his eye, Kise steals a glance at Oikawa, the Salt of Valentine’s Day, already typing furiously on his computer. Smiling to himself, Kise thanks his lucky stars, he might have no gifts waiting for him today but at least, he’s got a boyfriend who can keep him warm tonight, unlike Oikawa who’s been on a prolonged sullen mood, having been single for almost half a year, all alone on the day of hearts.

Kise reverts his attention to his PC screen and gets himself to work. He skims through thick pages of printed documents, sends emails and makes several long phone calls to clients and other associates to distract himself.

However, time trickles away, unbelievably slow and harrowing, and the pensive mood grows, sinking deeper and deeper within him, it’s almost impossible to overlook.

Kise tries not to overthink these matters even as several more delivery guys came in with flowers or cakes for his other colleagues.

He tunes out the hushed words of affection from his co-workers, sweet nothings whispered over the phone to their significant others. Grabbing his own phone, Kise takes a selfie with the brightest smile he can possibly muster at the moment, sends it with a quick text to Daiki, I miss you so much.

Hours went by. Daiki doesn’t reply.

.

Then comes the biggest discovery of Kise’s day.

Intending to replenish his stock of paper clips, Kise walks into the supplies room and hears suspicious noises, rattling the shelves somewhere. And he knows he can’t be wrong, because right there behind one of the steel cabinets, there’s Oikawa, oblivious to the world around him, too busy making out with the tall, broad-shouldered guy from the IT department, Ushijima-san. If Kise’s memory serves him right, Oikawa has been bad mouthing the poor guy non-stop since time immemorial, and now this.

Careful as not to burst Oikawa’s little bubble of fun, Kise retreats quietly from the supplies room, biting his lips to keep himself from laughing out loud at the irony of it all. He can’t wait to share the juicy news with Takao.

And when Oikawa bounces back to his office chair a few minutes later, he’s humming a soft tune under his breath and he’s noticeably less catty--the sly little bitch is flushed pink, the glow in his hazel eyes unmistakable. Further observing the brunet, Kise feels genuinely happy for Oikawa and then somehow, feels himself missing Daiki even more. For the gazillionth time, he checks his phone for any message though he knows, he knows…

...Daiki is just not that kind of guy.

And for all of Daiki’s shortcomings, Kise still loves him, all of him.

To cheer himself a little, he pulls up the gallery app from his phone, browsing and swiping through the countless saved pictures of Daiki. Shortly after, Kise finds himself smiling, and he tells himself not to sweat over the trivial stuff.

.

.

When Kise’s shift ends, he’s surprised to see Daiki already waiting for him outside the office. Kise finds him leaning casually against his black vintage Mazda, arms crossed over his chest, the first three buttons of his police uniform undone, his sexy smirk well in place and it makes Kise swoon, heartbeat accelerating.

“Hey,” Daiki says, hooking an arm around Kise’s waist. His other hand climbs up and trails the side of Kise’s face, a thumb softly grazing Kise’s cheek and for a moment, Daiki pauses, an affectionate gaze pulling Kise into the depths of his midnight-blue eyes, before leaning down to catch Kise’s lips on his.

Daiki doesn’t bring him flowers but then, Daiki doesn't really need to...

Closing his eyes, Kise lets himself melt into Daiki, everything becoming clear as crystal as he savors Daiki's presence. In that moment, Kise feels thoroughly ashamed for dwelling over thoughts of self-pity, yearning for words, for gifts that mean so little compared to all the years they spent growing together, the moments in between their shared lives, Daiki always rooting for him, challenging him, seeing the best in him, always fanning the flames of passion in his heart.

All Kise has ever needed is right there in front of him.

Celebrating Valentine’s Day isn’t really their thing. They have their own version of romantic, only it’s not anywhere under the spotlight of typical couple venues, of fine-dine restaurants, movie houses or concert halls.

And Kise concludes, they’re never the typical couple, anyway.

Today is laundry day, he and Daiki are doing it together just as they did on the weeks before, on all the years since the two of them decided to move in under one roof.

At the laundromat just a short walk from their apartment, Kise slips a few coins into the money slot of one of the washing machines before pouring detergent and fabric conditioner into the drawer while Daiki sorts the soiled clothes on a nearby table.

“Whites first,” Kise says. Obediently, Daiki hands him socks and shirts, few pieces at a time, while Kise tosses them inside the washing machine. Kise bends his knees a bit, peering into the opening, one of his hands pushing several pieces of clothing further inside the machine. He gestures for Daiki to hand him more clothing, his free arm stretched out towards Daiki behind him.

“Towels now...”

And instead of soft fabric, Daiki has put something else on the palm of Kise’s hand. Turning his head, he sees that Daiki has given him—

A small white box.

Next, Kise’s eyes are blown wide.

A glimmer of something small and precious, a golden ring inside.

“What—” Kise’s heart stutters, as also his tongue; all  the words, the question, the awe remains trapped behind his throat.

“Roses are expensive, so I got you this instead.”

Taking one of Kise’s hands, Daiki gets down on one knee. Then Kise hears the words, the only words he never thought he’s  been longing to hear all his life until now.

“I want to spend every Valentine’s Day with you, the rest of my life with you. Will you marry me, Kise Ryouta?”

Kise revels at the rich, honeyed baritone of Daiki’s voice, and for the briefest of moments, a flood of emotions well up in his heart, bringing with it fond memories that he and Daiki had weaved together over the years, starting from the instant that the ball had hit the back of Kise's head during middle school. They sweep across Kise’s mind, and he lets himself be buoyed through the bliss, through the turbulence of being endlessly in love with Daiki.

“Aho. You could’ve picked out a finer place to propose to me instead of here,” Kise whines. Not that he's complaining, he just can't believe this is all happening right now. With his heart drumming so hard in his chest, he worries that he’s gonna fall, he's so sure his knees have already turned into jelly.

“I want to surprise you,” Daiki says, gently squeezing Kise's hand. There's a very visible shade of red on Daiki's cheeks which Kise finds too adorable, and Kise feels proud he's the reason Daiki is blushing like that.

“You did a great job.”

“So it’s a yes?”

Kise grips Daiki’s hand and pulls him up from the floor. “Yes, of course, I’ll marry you, aho! In this life and in the next and the next!”

“You’re a cheesy shit.”

“And you want to marry this cheesy shit!”

As soon as Daiki slips the ring around his finger, Kise wraps his arms around Daiki’s neck, pulling his soon-to-be-husband by the nape, colliding their lips together in a kiss.

The ring grows infinitely warmer against Kise’s skin as he feels Daiki smiling in his mouth.

[moonwaif]

Snow Over Insomnia: ch. 2

Pairings: Gladnis, promptis

Theme: snowed in

Summary:

Once a year, Shiva blesses Insomnia with snowfall. This year's snow day finds four friends in transition. There's Noctis, who's trying his best to enjoy freshman year. With his best friend Prompto enrolled at a different college, it hasn't been easy. When a particularly controversial lecture puts Noctis on the spot, he says some things he regrets. Can he make amends before their friendship freezes over?

Meanwhile, there's Gladiolus, who's finding it increasingly difficult to deny his feelings for coworker and friend Ignis Scientia. The appearance of a mysterious figure from Ignis's past might just be the sign that it's time to come clean. Will Gladio make a move, or will he let the opportunity melt away?

PT. III: 15:45 hours    

Noctis could tell his uncle was back the second he got off the elevator; the muffled music vibrating through the hall announced his presence. He gave the door a light push, already knowing what he’d find within: Ardyn draped over the couch, wearing a long, raggy house coat and drinking wine straight from the bottle. His head lolled back against the arm of the coach, eyes closed and oblivious to his nephew’s arrival.

Noctis walked straight to stereo and punched the “off” button. The sudden silence roused Ardyn from his stupor.

“Well, well. If it isn’t my dearest nephew!”

Noctis slung his backpack from his shoulders. “I’m your only nephew. How long you staying this time?”

“A few days, a few weeks - who knows.” He took a long drink from the bottle, swallowing with a grimace. “This last tour left me feeling particularly uninspired. I need time to re-channel my creative energies. Where better to do just that than Insomnia, my home?”

Normally Noctis liked having his uncle around. It didn’t happen extremely often. Ardyn was usually in the hospital or on tour with his band. On the occasions that he did pop in for a visit, it always felt like having an eccentric older brother slash next-door neighbor. It also meant putting up with his uncle’s neediness and extravagance.

Today, Noctis wasn’t really in the mood.

“Can’t you rechannel in your own apartment?” he groused.

“That’s not very neighborly of you, Noct.”

Noctis ignored him, heading toward the kitchen. He pulled a soda out of the fridge and gulped down such a large mouthful that his chest burned.

It was no coincidence that Ardyn and Noctis were neighbors. In fact, it was the only reason Regis had allowed Noctis to move out of the palace in the first place - well, that and the fact that Iggy had agreed to be Noct’s roommate. With the entire apartment building belonging to Ardyn and security guards posted around every corner, it was hard for Noctis to get up to much trouble without the Citadel hearing about it.

He took another drink of soda.

“Sorry,” he muttered gruffly. “Long day. Lots of classes.”

“Oh yes; I forget, you’re a ‘college boy’ now. Are you enjoying my alma mater?”

“I guess.”

“I hope they’re teaching you children to be good, obedient little civilians. What do they have you majoring in, anyway?

An image of Ignis at the podium flashed across Noct’s vision. “Political science,” he ground out.

“How dreadful. Still, you’re better off than I was. To think, back then I actually intended to become a doctor. Laughable.” The bottle sloshed noisily. “By the way, when does that little chef friend of yours get home? I'm famished."

Noct's jaw tightened. He returned to the living room, plopping into an armchair across from the couch. He glanced at his uncle, dismayed to see the heavy bags under his eyes, the sallow complexion of his cheeks.

“Should you really be drinking during a flare-up?” he asked, eyes flickering toward the half-empty bottle.

Ardyn laughed drily. “If you’re going to act like my doctor, I hope you don’t plan on sending me a bill.”

“Uncle.”

“I’m fine,” he said pointedly. “They call it chronic it for a reason, Noct; none of this can kill me.”

Noctis frowned, but held his tongue. His uncle’s condition had been a touchy subject as far back as he could remember. In fact, all the Lucis Caelums tended to be tight-lipped about the health issues that plagued their line. After all, it wouldn’t do for the public to see the royal family as feeble or sickly, not when kings needed to be virile and strong. Even Ardyn, who turned a middle finger up at most courtly conventions, rarely commented on his own health in public.

Noctis didn't want to think about it.

“Anyway…” Ardyn rolled over onto his side, propping himself up on his elbow. “It’s obvious something’s troubling you. Spill the beans.”

Before Noctis could even attempt to answer, his phone rang. He answered immediately.

“Dude, I just saw your text! What happened?”

Noctis felt his shoulders relax. “Hey, Prom.”

He could hear raucous laughter on the other end of the line. Something clattered loudly in the background.

“Sounds like there’s a party going on over there,” Noctis noted, smiling.

Prompto laughed nervously. “Oh, y-yeah. Sorry about that. We’re at the karaoke. My buddy Dino Ghiranze’s birthday.”

Ghiranze? As in, the "Ghiranzenator"?

Noct's smile fell.

“Kind of early for a birthday party, isn’t it?” he asked, shifting in his chair. He could feel Ardyn watching him closely.

“Yeah, well, they’re just hanging out here until the clubs open, then everyone’s going bar hopping.”

“Heh. You, uh, never mentioned you had other plans.” Noctis scratched his ear, struggling to find the right words. “You gonna join them?”

“Of course not! We’re getting snowed in at your place, remember?”

“Yeah, but...it sounds kinda fun. We could go too, if you want.”

‘And, I don’t know, maybe you could actually introduce me to some of your other friends for a change,’ he thought to himself.

“No way!” Prompto exclaimed quickly - too quickly. “And miss up on the opportunity to kick your ass at King’s Night? Hello no, I’ve been looking forward to that all week! Besides, you hate going out, and the weather is supposed to be total shit. That's a no for me. But dude, back to your text. I wanna know what happened with Iggy! You sounded pissed off.”

Noctis sighed. He let his head fall back against the chair.

“It was just really weird. He started talking about this anti-monarchy stuff in class today for no reason, but he never really -”

“WHAT? Sorry can you say all that again, I didn’t hear you!”

“He started talking about anti-monarchy stuff,” Noctis repeated loudly. Ardyn snickered.

“What?! Dude, that IS weird.”

“I know, right?! I wish you would’ve been there Prom. It was like he was actually trying to defend these guys -”

“Yeah. Uh-huh. Look, dude, give me a sec, I’m on the phone.”

A muffled voice was yammering on in the background. Noct's lips thinned. He wondered if it was Dino.

“Sorry about that Noct!” Prompto shouted, returning to the phone. “But yeah, that definitely sounds wild. Did you talk to Iggy about it yet?”

“I mean, I asked him a few questions in class,” Noctis admitted, trying not to sound as annoyed as he felt. “He just dodged it all with some academic mumbo jumbo.”

“Really?" Prompto sounded doubtful. "That doesn’t sound like Ignis. He’s like, the most thoughtful guy I know. I don’t think he’d say something without having a good reason for it. Plus, he works for the Citadel, so...maybe he's just trying to teach you guys -”

A burst of laughter exploded in the background, drowning out the end of Prompto’s sentence. Noctis’s grip tightened around the phone.

“Teach us what?” he demanded. “That people who’d like to waste thousands of lives and destroy all of our infrastructure in a civil war should get an equal say?”

“Noct, you know that’s not what I - Six, Selphie, can you watch where you’re swinging that thing?! Look, just hang on a sec, I’m still on the phone...Noct. Hey, Noct, can you still hear me?” He was practically bellowing now, voice raised over a roaring chorus of ‘For He’s a Jolly Good Fellow.’

Noctis didn’t answer.

“Look, Noct, I just think you gotta try to see it from Iggy’s point of view! He’s probably just, I don’t know, trying to broaden your horizons or something! Dude, stop, I told you stop swinging -”

For the second time that day, something in Noctis snapped.

“Are you kidding me?" He leapt to his feet, too indignant to stay still. "He was talking about radical terrorists who’d like see me and my family dead. Don’t you realize how fucked up that is? I can’t believe you’re actually taking his side!”

“Easy, Noct,” Ardyn murmured. “You’ll disturb the neighbors if you keep shouting.”

“Noct, I’m not taking anyone side!” Prompto’s tone was pleading. “I just think that Iggy -”

“Forget it. My uncle’s here, I gotta go.”

“Noct -”

“Enjoy the party.”

He hung up and threw the phone down on the coffee table.

“My, my. What a temper! Is that really what’s got you so worked up?”

Ardyn’s smile was sardonic, but his gaze was surprisingly tender. Noctis didn't answer. He was too busy already regretting his outburst.

“People have despised those who rule since time immemorial, Noctis. You shouldn’t let it trouble you.”

“You don’t get it.” Noct's voice was raspy with anger and frustration. “I had to defend our family by myself, in front of the entire class. And they just  laughed  about it like my life is some kind of joke.”

"What life? To them, you’re the prince, not a human being. You exist to serve  the people, or did you forget, your majesty?”

The last words were spoken softly, almost pityingly. Noctis clenched his fists.

“But Ignis and Prompto aren’t ‘the people.’”

Ardyn raised himself from the couch, emitting a single, brittle laugh. “True friends are hard to come by for men of no consequence such as you and I, Noct,” he said, strolling over and resting a hand on his shoulder. “I’m afraid that’s something you’ll learn in time.”

The hand fell away, leaving Noct weary and cold. Ardyn strode to the door. “Call me when dinner’s ready.”

Noct listened to the creak open, then thud shut. A few seconds later came the ding of the elevator as it whisked Ardyn away to his penthouse suite. He suddenly realized he’d been sweating. He ran a hand across his forehead, glancing at his phone on the coffee table. Part of him hoped that it would vibrate with another call from Prompto.

It didn’t.

It was then that Noctis remembered. He hadn't asked Prompto about the presentation.

PT. IV: 16:10 hours  

The only thing worse than having a crush on your best friend was having a crush on your coworker. The only thing worse than that was a nosy little sister who knew about it.

“What’s wrong with you?” Iris demanded, interrupting what had up til then been a mostly silent car ride. “I’ve been playing Catoblepunk ever since we hit this traffic jam, and you haven’t complained once!”

“Sorry,” Gladio muttered, glancing in the side mirror. “Just got a lot of stuff on my mind.”

“Stuff on your mind, huh?” Iris flashed him a devilish grin. “Stuff like Ignis?”

It was a good thing the car wasn’t moving, because Gladio’s foot slammed so hard against the brake pedal that it definitely would have caused a pile-up.

“Not funny, Iris!”

“Sorry, sorry.” She snickered behind her hand, not sounding sorry at all. “Looks like I was right though, huh?”

Gladio made a low, grumbling sound. She was kind of right. He hadn’t been thinking about Ignis exactly. Instead, he'd been thinking about Ravus. The prince had been heading in the same direction as Ignis’s office when they’d ran into each other at the department. In fact, if he kept going he’d walk right by it. He wouldn’t have gone back to talk to Ignis, right? Not after that awkward exchange they’d all been forced to experience. But even if he did, Ignis would be able to hold his own.

Wouldn't he?

Iris patted his arm soothingly.

“Aw, Gladdy. You got it bad, don’t you?”

“Iris, I swear to -”

“Just tell him how you feel!”

“It’s not that simple." He had to raise his voice over his sister's trash playlist. “We’re colleagues, Iris.”

“So?”

“So, it wouldn’t be professional. Besides…” His hands tightened around the steering wheel. “Iggy’s my friend. I don’t wanna mess that up.”

“Maybe it wouldn’t mess it up, though. Maybe you’d sweep him off his feet and live happily ever after!”

A vision of a rosy-cheeked Ignis pressed against his chest rose to Gladio’s mind. The car felt suddenly claustrophobic. He cracked a window.

“Seriously, I don’t get you!” Iris crossed her arms with a pouty frown. “Normally, you’re so gross and flirty it’s embarrassing! What happened to all that confidence?”

“Because it’s not just anyone, Iris!” His voice was practically a roar inside the SUV. “It’s Ignis Fucking Scientia!” He broke off with an exasperated sigh. “Look, I’d really prefer not to talk about this kind of thing with you, okay? Save the gossip for your little girly friends.”

“Hmph. Fine. But roll your window down some more. Your gym bag stinks!”

“Roll your own window down!”

“It’s too cold!’

Gladio lowered the driver’s side window.

“You sure can be annoying.”

She jerked her head in his direction. “What?!”

Thankfully, Gladio’s phone chose that moment to ping. He snatched it up from the ashtray.

“Hang on, just got a text.”

“Didn’t anyone ever tell you not to text and drive? Let me see it.”

Not wanting to set a bad example, Gladio unlocked the phone and handed it over.

“Don’t open the message yet,” he cautioned. “Just tell me who it’s from first.”

“Prompto. Should I open it?”

“...all right.”

“Okay. It says, ‘Just got off the phone with Noct. Sounded upset. My phone is dying by the way.’”

Gladio heaved a sigh. “Looks like our precious prince is still throwing a temper tantrum. Tell Prompto not to worry, just let Noct cool down for a while.”

“Okay. Message sent!” Iris returned the phone back to the ashtray. “So Gladdy, what’s going on with Noct? Is everything ok?”

“If you’re so worried about him, go ahead and give him a call,” Gladio suggested innocently. “I’m sure hearing your voice would perk him right on up.”

The tips of her ears were beet red. “Shut up!”

“Oh, I’m sorry; did I strike a nerve?” Gladio chuckled, his own troubles momentarily forgotten. “My bad.”

“You’re such a meanie!”

“Yeah, yeah; I know.”

Iris grumbled something under her breath that Gladio chose to his ignore. His eyes drifted to his phone sitting in the ashtray.

First Ignis and Noctis, then Ignis and Ravus. Whatever was going on with Iggy, Gladio hoped it would all work out soon.

TBC...

[analogscum]

DON’S PLUM (2001, d. R.D. Robb)

Why is it, my dear Scumbags, that forbidden fruit is the sweetest fruit of all? Why is it that, when we know that we can’t have something, it only makes us want it that much more? This applies to any number of life’s pleasures, but especially to movies. Just think of the number of films that are out there, just waiting to be viewed, but because they’ve either been lost to time, or the powers that be have locked them away somewhere, we may never get to experience. London After Midnight. The Day the Clown Cried. Until recently, anyway, The Other Side of the Wind. Well, tonight, thanks to the magic of illegal YouTube uploads, I’m here to tell you about some of that forbidden fruit. We’re going to talk about a film that its stars do not want you to see (if you live in America or Canada, that is), a film that to this day they continue to try and bury via any legal shenanigans they can. So get ready, because it’s time to take a big juicy bite out of Don’s Plum.

To start, we must talk about the nineties. In the nineties, two big things happened that allowed Don’s Plum to come into existence: the advent of low-budget Indies with cool kids talking in verbose, provocative lingo (see: Pulp Fiction, Clerks, Reality Bites, Kids, etc.), and the teen heartthrob coronation of Leonardo DiCaprio. As an infamous New York magazine profile from 1998 established, young Leo ran with a gang of fellow young thespians who would be immortalized as “the Pussy Posse.” The modus operandi of the Pussy Posse was…well, you can probably guess what it was. These guys were all about scoring chicks and getting loaded and not tipping waitresses, and they lived like goddamn boy kings. Leo was the leader, with his two best friends Tobey Maguire and Kevin Connolly on either side of the pussy throne. Other members of the Pussy Posse included David Blaine, Lucas Haas, and R.D. Robb, who you undoubtedly remember as the kid who played Schwartz in A Christmas Story. Anyway, around 1995, Robb had a boffo idea: if I could get my hands on a camera and some black and white film, I could shoot my friends doing what we do every night, just hanging out acting like douchebags, and somehow this will magically congeal into a smash indie hit. So Leo and Tobey, who were allegedly under the impression that this was just going to be a short film, gave Robb a bunch of money to make this thing, which he did, casting Leo, Tobey, Kevin Connolly, and a bunch of their other friends, shooting on and off for a two year period, with the young actors improvising almost all of their dialogue. And with that, let’s get into the finished film itself, shall we?

Los Angeles. The mid to late nineties. Everything is in black and white and super fuckin’ suave, because, again, it’s Los Angeles in the mid to late nineties. Jeremy Sisto is driving a pickup truck with leopard print seats. He kicks a hippie chick out of the passenger seat, mumbling something about “I need…pleasure. And…I need…to know that with…BRUTE FORCE, I got you out of my life, mmkay?” So, uh, right off the bat, um, that dialogue. Yikes, right? The hippie chick, for her part, gets very angry and yells, “You were supposed to take me to Vegas!” Don’t worry, we never find out why she was going to Vegas in the first place, or who Jeremy Sisto’s character is, because he then promptly drives out of the movie. Bye, Jeremy Sisto! Beep beep!

Cut to Tobey Maguire, who looks like he just finished going through puberty roughly five minutes before Robb called “action!” He’s got a dopey look on his face, and an unfortunate bowl cut/chin scruff combo that makes him look like Shaggy from Scooby Doo. He’s sitting in a moody mid to late nineties café, drinking a comically large cappuccino, and half paying attention to the absolute worst goddamn music I have ever heard in my life. The end credits describe this band as “acid jazz,” but I think a more accurate description would be “music to try and swallow your own tongue to.” It’s like a fiendishly unlistenable combination of free jazz, ska, Tom Waits hobo wailing, and beat poetry, and it should’ve been left back in the nineties where it belongs, alongside Olestra and the Kosovo war. Tobey is trying to pick up some ladies to bring to hang out with his friends later, but oddly enough none of these women want to hang out with an arrogant sad sack who has all the charisma and sex appeal of Uncle Joey from Full House. Meanwhile, there’s like a full-on burlesque dance number happening to accompany this zoot suit cacophony, and the director only occasionally cuts to it for a few seconds at a time. I guess, who needs to see a big splashy musical number when you can watch a comic relief wet blanket who just got his first pubes strike out with every woman he talks to, right? Luckily, the café waitress takes pity on him and agrees to accompany him to meet up with his friends, and then does basically nothing else for the rest of the movie. Occasionally the scene will cut to her to remind us that she’s there, but, like, is she really there, though?

Jenny Lewis from Rilo Kiley is sitting facing a dude who is showing his bare ass to the camera, because that’s how real fuckin’ life just is, maaaaan, not everyone always wears pants, dude! They apparently just had sex, even though she’s fully clothed, and they get into a philosophical argument about nothing and everything, as if they’re in the worst deleted scene from Slacker. Even though they clearly hate each other, the dude, Brad, invites Jenny Lewis to come meet up with his friends, and she makes some overly hostile joke about how he didn’t make her cum earlier, because low-budget indie movie. Next we see Kevin Connolly driving down the street in his Jeep, when he encounters the hippie girl from the beginning of the movie, like a couple of star-crossed blabbedy blahs. Finally, FINALLY, we’re introduced to Leo, when he borrows a comically large mid to late nineties cell phone from this little hood rat kid who insists on telling him some boring story about a brawl at the Viper Room even though Leo is CLEARLY trying to use said comically large mid to late nineties cell phone to call up every fine young female he knows to meet up with him and his friends. This makes the little hood rat kid very very angry, and its supposed to be funny, I guess? Anyway, like they were all fated since time immemorial to do, all of our leads finally converge down at the titular greasy spoon eatery, Don’s Plum.

Now, have you ever been at a restaurant, and you find yourself sitting near a table of people who are so obnoxious, so vapid, so relentlessly annoying and unpleasant, that you can no longer enjoy your food, and just find yourself eavesdropping on every improbably stupid thing that these goddamn condom leaks are rattling on about, slowly being pulled further and further into their vortex of suck? You have? Well, then, congratulations, because that experience is the rest of this fuckin’ movie. Jenny Lewis and Brad are the first to arrive, and what do they do? They start playing a goddamn harmonica. Um, no. Hell no. I’m trying to enjoy my meal in relative peace and quiet, you know what I don’t need? Your shitty ass John Popper impressions, ok? Get that shit all the way outta here. Then, just to really up the insufferability factor, Jenny Lewis starts opining about Bob Dylan, but she only calls him Bob, which, you can take that one away from here right away, and then launches into the following diatribe...

“You know what I’m so sick of though? All that fucking commercial grunge crap. It all sounds alike. It’s like the record companies that are promoting sterile music. I mean, I love Nirvana, don’t get me wrong, but they weren’t the Beatles.”

WOOF. Mercifully, Brad interrupts her to tell her that he loves her, even though it’s their like, first or second date. She’s reasonably creeped out by this, and just by how earnest and dark and brooding Brad is in general, until thankfully Tobey and the waitress show up, soon followed by Kevin and the hippie hitchhiker. Leo gets his own grand entrance, checking himself out in the reflection of an aquarium while some mid to late nineties boom bap hip hop blares on the soundtrack, natch. For the next hour or so, the group basically just chain smoke countless cigarettes (remember when restaurants had smoking sections?), harasses their waitress, Flo (hey, it’s a mid to late nineties indie movie, were they supposed to NOT name the waitress Flo?) and talk shit endlessly. They also say the word “bro” a lot. Like, a lot a lot. Like, way too much. The world’s most date rapey frat dude would tell them to relax with how much they say the word “bro.”

Suddenly, in between all of the cigarettes and “bros,” a morbidly obese lady walks past the table, and Leo mocks her for daring to be morbidly obese. The hippie hitchhiker takes umbrage with this, and Leo, charming guy that he is, calls her a “squatty piece of hippie shit cunt.” This escalates to the point where the hippie hitchhiker storms off, throwing her Birkenstocks at Leo, and then smashes Kevin’s windshield with a bat that she found…somewhere? Anyway, she’s out of the movie now, and replacing her is Jenny Lewis’s friend Constance, who they just happen to run into. So more bullshitting and chain smoking unfolds. Female masturbation is discussed, because mid to late nineties indie movie. They play Never Have I Ever, and Kevin doesn’t understand the rules, which is kinda endearing. They almost get into a fight with some creep in a mechanics outfit and Buddy Holly glasses. A horrible ska cover of the “Menomena” song from The Muppet Show pops up for a minute of your life that you’ll never get back. Leo sends the group into more turmoil when he outs Brad as bisexual and gives Tobey shit for being vegan. He also gropes Jenny Lewis’s breasts countless times, but no one seems to mind. They all fight about this for awhile, but eventually apologies are offered and they’re bros once again. However, upon learning that Brad is into both girls and guys, Jenny Lewis begins freaking out about AIDS, because ugggh. Then she and Constance start making out for absolutely no reason other than mid to late nineties indie movie. At one point, the film fades out for no reason, and then fades up again on the exact same scene just in time to hear one of the ladies ask the table, “do you guys bathe every day and, like, wash yourself with soap?” Meanwhile, the film will occasionally cut to short vignettes of the characters each saying non-sequiturs into the restroom mirror. Why? Again, because mid to late nineties indie movie. DUH.

The absolute weirdest scene occurs when Kevin Connolly notices a lady producer whom he auditioned for the previous week. He calls her “Spielberg with a pussy,” because of course he does, what else would he call her? The rest of the table convinces him to go talk to her. To both our surprise and his, when he tentatively approaches her at the bar, she’s like, Oh my god, Kevin Connolly! It’s so good to see you! I’m sorry you didn’t get that part you auditioned for, but get this, I was just watching your tape again the other day, and I want to cast you in the lead in this other movie that I’m doing! Not only that, I have to admit, I find you and your Cub Scout haircut and thrift store bowling shirt to be super fucking sexy, and later on tonight I wanna fuck your brains out so hard, so take my number and call me, hot stuff.

WHAT?!?! Like, is this supposed to be a fantasy sequence? Is it? If it is, you have to tell me, movie! Shellshocked and erect, Kevin returns to the table and recounts the whole thing, including the line “bro, it was crazy, bro! She was on my dick so hard!” Leo, meanwhile, is wearing some fake redneck dentures, talking in an exaggerated Southern accent, and eating his own boogers. This is all real, you guys, I promise.

Anyway, some more shit happens, and everyone is yapping about some stupid, possibly offensive nonsense when suddenly a lady at the next table over slaps the guy that she’s with. Hard. Slaps him really hard. Our heroes get quiet for less than a second, before remarking on the slap that just took place. Holy shit bro, that bitch slapped that guy so hard bro, bro bro bro bro, etc. When things get back to normal, Leo is suddenly quiet and sullen. Kevin notices, and tries to coax it out of him the best way he knows how, which is by asking, “you fuckin’ thinkin’ about something, bro?” Leo starts giving all of these cagey, mysterious non-answers, and before long everyone at the table wants to know if he’s fuckin’ thinkin’ about something, bro. Leo takes a deep drag off of his cigarette, and tells everyone, “my dad committed suicide bro.”

WHAAAT?!?! I’ve gotta say, I honestly did not see this coming. In a mood, Leo storms off for the back bar. Jenny Lewis follows him, and tries to make him feel better by relating her OWN familial sob story: “My dad is gone. And my mom is a junkie. She sells her ass on the corner.”

WHAAAAAAT?!?! All of these sudden dollops of soap opera drama, man! Good gravy. For whatever reason, this turns Leo on, and he tries to bang her. She rebuffs his advances, and they get into an overwrought screaming match that plays out like a Level One improv exercise at the world’s shittiest acting school. Meanwhile, back at the table, Tobey gets mad at Kevin for pushing Leo to reveal the truth about his dead dad, and this escalates into a full on fist fight! BRO!

Now, holy shit, you guys, the last five minutes of this movie. Jenny Lewis runs into the bathroom, and begins lamenting into the mirror about how she let a “perfectly good fuck” get away. As she’s saying all this, she pulls some tinfoil, a straw and a lighter out of her purse and just straight up starts FREEBASING CRACK COCAINE.

WHAAAAAAAAAT?!?! Kinda makes all that AIDS talk seem kinda hollow, huh? Then, oh my god, she starts crying and launches into this fucking after school special monologue, screaming into the mirror about how “I was the one that came on to Uncle Jerry! I was the one that was curious!”

WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAT?!?! Excuse me, waitress, but it seems you got drug abuse and child molestation in my mid to late nineties indie movie! What is ANY OF THAT doing in here?! And in the last five goddamn minutes of the movie, no less! So now Tobey and Kevin’s bro fight has spilled out onto the street, so Leo goes and breaks it up, he and Kevin do a very intricate secret bro handshake, everyone has a good laugh, Brad lights Kevin’s bowling shirt on fire, everyone goes prancing down the street, and the movie ends.

Now, imagine that you’re Leonardo DiCaprio and Tobey Maguire. It’s late 1997, or possibly early 1998. One of you is now the biggest movie star on the planet, thanks to a movie about a big-ass boat. You’ve just seen this Don’s Plum movie that your little buddy R.D. Robb made. First of all, it’s a full-length fucking movie, not a short like you both thought it would be. Second of all, both of you are in there saying terrible things about women, doing terrible things to women, and oh shit, the majority of your fans…wait for it…are women! Bro! But worst of all, our little buddy R.D. Robb, who we thought was our friend, our fellow Pussy Posse member, our BRO, is shopping this fucking movie around to distributors? This fucking movie that could possibly end our careers if anyone ever sees it? Tell me, if you were Leonardo DiCaprio and Tobey Maguire in late 1997 or early 1998, would you do everything in your power to make sure that Don’s Plum never saw the light of day?

Well, according to a lawsuit filed in 1998 by one of the film’s producers, David Stutman, that’s exactly what Leo and Tobey did. Interestingly enough, according to court documents, apparently it was Tobey who was more concerned with how his performance in the film would negatively affect his nascent stardom, and therefore enlisted his much more famous best friend to help him carry out “a fraudulent and coercive campaign to prevent the release of the film.” I mean, Leo comes off as WAY more of an asshole than Tobey, who mainly just mopes around and eventually bro fights with Kevin Connolly, but in any case, both parties eventually reached a settlement in which Stutman agreed that Don’s Plum would not be released in the U.S. or Canada. It premiered at the Berlin Film Festival on February 10, 2001, and quickly faded into Hollywood lore.

Every few years, talk of this wild, black and white, mostly improvised movie with some big celebrities before they got famous will pop up again. Most recently, back in early 2016, another of the film’s producers, Dale Wheatley, uploaded the film to Vimeo and posted it to his website, freedonsplum.com, where anyone could watch it for free. Within days, Leo and Tobey’s respective legal teams had the video removed. You would think that after more than twenty years, with Leo now a respected Oscar winner, and Tobey having brought Spider-Man to life on the big screen, they’d be willing to let bygones be bygones. But it seems that they’re still legitimately concerned that they would stand to lose their vaunted place amongst the Hollywood elite if North American audiences ever got to see Don’s Plum. They still fear it. They still think it’s dangerous. In reality, it’s just embarrassing, which isn’t the same thing.

Truth is, there are a million movies out there just like Don’s Plum. There are a million other overly earnest, needlessly vulgar, navel-gazing indie movies made by overly earnest, needlessly vulgar, navel-gazing young people about the lives of overly earnest, needlessly vulgar, navel-gazing young people out there. I mean, I went to film school, fer chrissakes, I can say with some level of authority that Don’s Plum is the sort of project that my classmates and I poured our hearts and souls Into, only to be embarrassed by its messy, guileless sincerity later. The only thing that distinguishes Don’s Plum from the horde of other cringeworthy embryonic efforts like it is, as I said before, its status as cinematic forbidden fruit. Will its two stars ever allow the audience that it was made for to have a taste? Somehow I doubt it, bro.

[theeminentlyimpractical]

Hell is only understaffed because they keep killing the Eric-class demons send post

[maverick-werewolf]

Just some werewolf (and writing) thoughts

I had another moment tonight. I get these moments sometimes. This one actually stems from my writing.

Why can’t people take werewolves seriously anymore?

I’m going to just clip this here because this is going to get very long and inane and now you’ll find out why I’m going to have to just tag some posts as “rambling.” Keep reading if you’re curious as to what’s bothering me. But if you don’t want to drown (seriously you will drown, I didn’t hold back) in unorganized walls of text, wait for this Wednesday’s werewolf fact instead.

Whether werewolves are from the beginning or turn into one, they’re jokes. Whether the person telling the story intended it or not - jokes. Ha ha, dog jokes. Sometimes that’s fine. I enjoy it, I even dabble in it myself. I’m not completely innocent of that, and I’m not completely bashing everything that does it. I think it’s fun and it can be really super cute and entertaining. Especially if it’s reached at a point later in a story or a relationship (I know some of you you know what I’m talking about).

But the problem is that werewolves have been degraded into just something funny, or something average. They’re just one of those monsters you randomly throw at your players in a tabletop session, or they’re a boss fight in a video game. There’s an evil pack of them your heroes have to slay. By default, no one takes them seriously.

Where’s the depth? Where’s the meaning? Where’s the horror, the torment? The challenge?

That’s another thing. They’re almost “normal” by the standards of a lot of settings they’re in. It’s “normal” for a guy to turn into a horrible man-beast that eats people. Yeah, that’s not really that scary, I’ve seen those before and killed like half a dozen. It’s not too uncommon out here in [insert setting/region], the only hard part is figuring out what werecreature the person is turning into while they’re seizing around in throes of desperate agony.

Let’s fight something bigger, badder, scarier. Werewolves are so blasé. And it’s not a setting they’re in, it’s werewolves as a whole - in popular culture. It’s part of the reason why we see all these people trying to “change” them in some way or another, to try to make them “different” or “unique” - and we’re back to bigger, badder, scarier.

Say for example you run a zoo. Someone sells you a tiger. A TIGER? But tigers are NORMAL! We’ve all seen tigers before. These enormous, endlessly majestic animals that can easily kill a man with a single effortless swipe of its massive paw, with teeth longer than your forefinger, whose tawny hide has since time immemorial stricken a primal fear into anyone who sees it - as it should. Yeah, those are boring. They’re not good enough anymore.

Let’s genetically engineer dinosaurs and bring them back instead. Tigers are so blasé.

Only then dinosaurs aren’t good enough anymore. A fucking tyrannosaurus rex? That’s not very scary. We’ve seen those now. Let’s amp it up a little more. Let’s genetically engineer a big freaky albino auto-cloaking horror monster dinosaur straight out of your nightmares because we’ve reached a point now where, to modern audiences, a T-rex is normal, and we need something - what? Bigger, badder, scarier.

And as for werewolves, where’re they? Down there on the bottom of the totem pole somewhere with the “lowly” tiger.

(note: this isn’t a dig at Jurassic World or its plot, I’m just using that general idea as an example :P)

Anyway, I love Jurassic Park with all my heart and soul and that isn’t even a very good comparison as to what exactly is bothering me.

So what do you mean, Mav? What’s got you so upset tonight?

I’m upset because I feel like no one will ever take werewolves seriously again. Not really. Yeah, some things might try, but they won’t get very far. Because in the end, werewolves will always be relegated to what they are now.

Werewolves are essentially one of the most primal and terrifying concepts that have captivated the imaginations and nightmares of mankind in some way or another for the entire existence of humanity, even since the days of cavemen. Throughout our collective history and across every single region of the world, we have werewolves.

But now the average person struggles to care about a story if it focuses on werewolves. What a silly, cheesy fantasy thing. Tell someone your story has werewolves in it and you’ve probably already lost them, because to them, the word “werewolf” carries a lot of connotations and assumptions that are premeditated and inescapable thanks to this greater hive-mind conception of them shaped over the years by overwhelmingly bad media, with far too few diamonds in the rough to change most anyone’s opinion about anything.

Because, to the average person, what are werewolves? They’re B-movie monsters. They’re old news (despite never really being much news at all). They’re some shirtless romance model. They’re a random encounter, or just that one boss fight earlier in the game.

They’re paranormal romance novel material or something similar that serious authors won’t touch with a ten-foot pole, because the second you have a werewolf in your story that isn’t just a one-off, lame, monster-of-the-week creature (hi, “Silver Bullet”), your story acquires a very, very specific audience and becomes one of four things: a young adult paranormal novel ala Harry Potter, a romance novel ala Twilight, a standalone horror quick-read, or a book no one wants to read because you can’t quite fit it into any of those specific boxes, and those are the only boxes in which werewolves are now meant to exist.

Oh yeah, or straight-up comedy.

Bring up werewolves in a conversation - what do you get? Any number of, or all of, these responses: Oh yeah, I saw [insert horrible movie here], it was really funny. Haha, [dog joke]. Hey what about were[whatever]s. Let’s talk about all these other wacky werecreatures and make endless jokes about those instead. How about wereannelids and werehumans? Oh I’m sorry, were you trying to have a serious conversation? Well then how about you answer this completely off the nut question instead? What would happen if a werewolf swallowed silver? Wouldn’t that be funny!?

What about discussing them in relation to some particular setting? Oh yeah, it’s just that ONE setting that treats them that way, right? No. No, it’s not.

My whole life, I’ve just wanted to find some way to encourage people to take werewolves seriously again. I don’t know why or how this became my passion, but that’s what it’s always been.

This blog has actually helped a lot. So thank you all.

But here’s my problem. And now things are about to get personal and move away from broader territory. I’m about to talk about writing fiction.

My primary means of showing the world that werewolves can be awesome, I had always planned before, was to write some novels about them and attempt to tell a story as deep, as moving, as powerful, and as emotional as I think one could tell with a werewolf protagonist. Those novels were going to be called The Prophecy of the Six, set in my world, Wulfgard. And my protagonist? My once favorite character I’ve ever made, Tom Drake. But now I’m struggling to love these things again, to the point of being deeply and emotionally upset with myself.

Because in my mind, he isn’t even “the werewolf” anymore. He’s barely even a scary monster anymore. Which, in my world, he is supposed to be all of those things. He is my ultimate werewolf, and beyond that he is the ultimate monster. Or at least he was/is in theory. For quite a while now, he hasn’t been. There are other werewolves, and for some reason or another or in some way or another, they’re better at being werewolves. They’re, put simply... better werewolves.

And I have to be reminded time and time again that werewolves “aren’t even that scary.” Which I know is a statement bred in the pop culture we have to work with today, and it’s statements like that that should - and sometimes do - spur me on to work even harder. But when I’m down, it’s hard to deal with. And there’s not really much to stop all of these things from coming close to breaking me. Breaking my spirit, in terms of the werewolf thing, and breaking my heart, in terms of my personal issues with Tom right now.

So next time you leave a comment on some story you read online that you really enjoy? Thank the writer simply for writing it. It’ll mean a lot to them. It’ll mean the world to them.

Being a writer can tear you apart. Being a writer is very, very hard.

And on top of that, next time someone talks to you about something that they’re truly and deeply passionate about, no matter what that thing is, do me a big favor...

Don’t shoot them down.

Even if, yes, their passion is trying to prove to the world that something as “silly” as werewolves holds a much deeper and more profound meaning than your average direct-to-DVD horror flick is going to convey.

[idsuwon]

heyheyhey thanks for the welcomes! i’ll do my best to keep everything short: i’m dan, this is suwon, and all other details that u will possibly need are under the cut. pls plot with me!

here’s her app just in case btw but anywho

been singing since she was 5

parents never found a reason to discourage her so suwon just kept going at it until she was working towards a degree in vocal performance

graduated from university and had been preparing for her musical theater debut when her beloved voice teacher passed away

hit a slump and then had to call it quits, took a year to slowly come to terms with the death

got randomly spotted by an mm agent; coincidentally enough, just around the time she wanted to have a fresh start

auditioned, got in, trained for about 10-11 months because her dancing sucked ass before being slotted for nightmare

had a bit of a culture shock upon officially dipping into the idol scene but by now she’s more or less well adjusted. the cynicism bug hasn’t bit her yet

a real vampy lookin’ bitch since time immemorial so it’s safe to say she owns the group’s concept like a real motherfucker (as far as appearances go) 

just trying to be optimistic? free? she’s done with being sad and pessimistic okay so if ur not down for that kinda vibe gtfooo please and thank you we’re planning to stay chill 

if she doesn’t like you (which that in itself is rare, indifference is more like it) she probably is just gonna pretend you don’t exist simply because engaging in tomfoolery is just too much work 

and if there’s bad blood then at that point ya’ll have probably stopped talking all together anyway lmao so 👋

but otherwise frank with what she wants and doesn’t want!

rarely gets angry and/or has violent outbursts, but her ability to stay eerily calm does its job when it comes to intimidation 

a social drinker at best, and only ever with close friends

knits, plays pc games, and does hot yoga to de-stress in her free time

would probably die for beyoncé and stevie nicks in this life and the next and the next after that

some plots these are pretty malleable, just lmk how you’d like to adjust them! i’m also more than happy to brainstorm if that’s your style. suwon’s pretty flexible so we’re down for really anything...hmu

nightmare girls...come to me

friends to share cocktails and gossip with

fellow company colleagues

fellow former trainees 

fellow former classmates from high school and/or university

the bad cop to her good cop

you guys hooked up once and maybe it could’ve been more except it wasn’t all that deep on her part so as sza likes to put it: ♪ why you bother me when you know you don’t want me youuu dumb piece of shit ♪

“so you’ve gone to college? had a normal life for the first twenty years of your life? what the fuck fam lmao” 

someone who’s surprised or just plain unimpressed that she debuted so late

you’re both stuck having to deal with some creepy older male idol on a variety show and it’s the absolute worst

two friends just fucking around on the internet out of boredom only to end up finding a very explicit fanfic starring both of you as the pairing and it’s either extremely awkward or ridiculously funny

[italicwatches]

GAMERS! Episode 03

Okay, sliding back towards center. It’s GAMERS!, episode 03! Here we GO!

-Opening! And what comes with an opening? Why, game references out the complicated love shape, of course! Number two on our list, a wild looking side scrolling shooter, can only be one thing… Gradius? No, Parodius! Konami’s long-running shmup series, it is a literal parody of their main shooters and other such franchises, notably Gradius and to some degree its chief competition in the market, R-Type. Gradius, and thus Parodius, are known well for the power-up bar system, where each power-up item you get moves the selector one section up the bar. You can get things like speed-ups and options and powerful weaponry, but be careful, because one wrong move and you might lose it all…And one bad combination, or one too many Speed Ups, could spell your doom! Also they haven’t made a new one that’s an actual game and not pachislot since, uhhhh…1997! Congratulations, Parodius, your newest actual game is old enough to drink the pain away. Konami: Ruining childhood dreams they themselves built, since 1969.

-DAY 03: Hoshinomori Chiaki and StreetPass Communication

-We begin in the morning, with a young lady having to keep her short skirt from showing her panties to us the viewer. Gotta be careful, lass. Then it’s to Keita, switching to his inside shoes, when Tasuku comes up…And he’s not super happy. The hell was that free-to-play game, man?! It sucks and just wants his money! And how the hell does a horror game turn into a fishing game exactly? And the ending was shit! Tasuku even slams his hand into the wall next to Keita’s head…

-They’re parodies, Tasuku, parodies! That’s the joke! Also all the girls are seeing stylish tough guy Tasuku having scrawny small nerd boy Keita pinned to the wall and are starting to ogle. And the farce continues to build.

-Once they’re in class, Keita admits that yeah, the games that guy makes are kind of…a mess, looked at straightforwardly. They’re fun because the bad parodies are funny, like mocking a crappy movie, you know? It’s like a matter of the heart! A single virgin does not get to compare things to matters of the heart with a guy who’s actively dating. …Harsh, Tasuku. Very harsh. And have you even done anything with her?!

-Um er well you see THAT’S NOT THE POINT how are things with you and Karen? Because she wants you bad. He’s…Not really had the chance to get into any real contact with her…Are you dumb or just stupid, Keita? Reach out you damned fool. Don’t just keep passing her by…

-Passing her by…You mean like StreetPass on his 3DS? Is this a comedy routine or are you just that dense?! And then Keita’s got another assistance request from Mono-san. Hold that thought he’s gotta bail out his comrade. Fine. Fine, but think about what he said.

-And so back to MMOs, as Tasuku notices that Keita’s username is “Tsucchie”, which has no connection to anything but sounds like a real-person nickname, not a username…Yeah, it’s actually from his mother’s maiden name, Tsuchiyama. He doesn’t like using anything connected to his real name, but didn’t want something too chuuni, so he just took that and simplified it down to Tsucchie, or Yama-san when they want something less cutesy. So who’s Mono there?

-Longtime MMO friend. They’ve been guild bros since practically his first day in the game! Uh huh. Well, Tasuku’s gonna have to work on this if he wants to get to watch a farce…You’ve got a lot of work to do if you’re gonna get anywhere with Karen. You’re right, he does suck. …Okay quit that. You just need to get out of this loner mode of thinking. YOU ARE SO KIND TASUKU!

-So, first way to start is by learning how to be more comfortable around young ladies…And their best in for that is gonna be what you’re passionate about! Which means they need a girl who’s into RPGs and weird parody games and shit…

-But, BAM! Right after school, Tasuku takes Keita over to another class…And bam, Hoshinomori Chiaki. Another loner who needs a friend. Keita protests, not liking the idea of sorta hitting on this girl. Too bad, Tasuku decided already. Now GET YO ASS IN THERE.

-And that’s when Aguri finds them and Tasuku you were going to spend time with her today, not your uke! Right. So he’s got to go, and you’d better make it happen, Keita! Fare thee well~

-Which is about when Keita realizes he’s been standing in the doorway long enough that people are noticing. And then his stomach lets out an unpleasant rumble. Oh dear.

-And then we’re where we left off with yesterday’s after credits scene. With Karen having a giddy haze, and then Eiichi from the club spotting Keita and hey, what’s up? Did you need Karen? Karen’s head pops up because KEITA WHAT WHERE, but Keita awkwardly claims he’s got no business with her and Karen just turns to stone. Oh, that is painful. This whole scene is gonna be rocky, isn’t it? (OH GOD THE PUNS ARE COMING OUUUUUT)

-So she crumbles to dust, and is blown away by a mournful wind, as Keita admits he’s here to talk to that girl over there…Oh, and he steps in the dust that once was Karen, for a scene that makes absolutely zero literal sense but tons of metaphorical logic, as he makes it over to Chiaki’s desk, and she…Has no idea he’s there. She’s too busy playing her PZ Vivio with her headphones in.

-Karen, recovering from her brief time as a symbol of the folly of man and the decaying powers of time immemorial, tries to get Keita’s attention…And hears it right from him that he’s here to see a girl. Ouch. B-But knowing you, it’s something managerial, some class business or something, surely! Right? TELL HER SHE’S RIGHT KEITA SHE NEEDS THIS.

-Nope he’s here to…Fuck it, all in. To work up the courage to come here and make friends with this girl as a fellow RPG lover!

-Guys I think Karen just died.

-And then Keita catches her when she collapses and EVERYONE GOES WILD, as Karen tries to get out a word, any word, and finally calls him a sleaze ball before fleeing at top speed!

-And Chiaki finally looks up and realizes things have happened and oh god there’s a strange boy looking at her what to do what to do?! She shrinks away as small as she can, in raw unyielding fear of the unknown…And that’s when he sees that she’s playing Aegis VIII. Aegis Vee plus Aegis Three equals…Aegis Eight! Aegis In Space! (Did I stretch for that Simpsons reference? Yes! Do I care? No.)

-But she realizes that he knows the game and that short-circuits the fear of Boys into just plain old confusion…Which soon leads to them at the bus stop. At far, opposite ends of the bench, as he finally introduces himself properly. And she’s…Oh she’s a nervous wreck and this conversation is totally dead, but she can only assume that he’s in the game club and is here to recruit her like Karen and Eiichi!

-Wait wait wait, he’s not in the game club! You’re not? He’s not. Oh. She, she went to watch one day when Karen invited her, but…

-But it wasn’t what you wanted at all? It was the same for him! They’re cool, but way too intense, right? Yes! She doesn’t want to be the best at anything, she just wants to have fun! YES! And Chiaki’s face finally comes out of shadow, as the two clasp hands, realizing they have finally found kindred spirits…!

-Over the next few days, the two became close friends, exchanging numbers and hanging out. They even got on a first-name basis, which isn’t nothing. They were even secretly texting in class…All as Karen watched, turning more and more into a horrifying little goblin of misery and woe…

-But then, THEN! They had a moment, of shared gushing over the Aegis series. And the best part of that series is, same time now…

-The music!

-The characters!

-A rift has opened between them. As they both suddenly feel so deeply, deeply betrayed.

-Commercial break!

-And we’re back! It’s after class and Tasuku is hearing how Keita got into a huge argument with Chiaki. Over games. Over philosophies! Shut the hell up with that overwrought bullshit. And he admits that she was far more of an actual friend than him…Oh don’t give him that. What happened?

-She…She said games don’t need appealing moe characters to be good! Are you stupid or just an idiot, Keita? He doesn’t care if she’s a cute girl who kind of looks like the Curse Freak from the much-beloved Satchél Creatures series, he will never compromise on this! So idiot, then. But fine, fine, take a few deep breaths and you two can talk it over calmly later. Okay? Don’t let a good friendship go because of this one little—

-Hard cut to the argument staring anew! Keita think of how the industry has already taken moe too far! There’s lolicon and imoutos in what were once mainstream games now! The foreign game industries are running laps around them with cinematic stories and tightly polished gameplay! The force of moe is stifling Japanese game development, you narrow-minded shrimp!

-Hold on there! Haven’t you ever played a foreign game and wished it had cute girls, instead of roid-chomping muscle men working for the military?! You…You seaweed head!

-WHAT DID YOU JUST CALL HER YOU MOTHERFU—

-Tasuku cuts in, argument stops now or he starts cracking skulls. How is it that Tasuku now feels like the only sane man? I assume we are only two, maybe three episodes tops from Gakuto being the only person with a rational thought in his FPS-addled brain. The only question in my mind is whether it’ll be because of actual logic, or because things have devolved so far that “teabag them all and let God sort it out” becomes a sensible approach to the situation.

-Anyways Tasuku wants these two idiots to just chill the fuck out and get along, they clearly care about each other…And Chiaki gets all blushy about the idea and Keita thinks she’s getting a crush on Tasuku like all the other girls. So you’ll fawn over a stylish, handsome guy like Tasuku here, but won’t accept moe?! What kind of hypocrite are you?!

-Hey. HEY. Tasuku cuts that all down. Everyone cool your fuckin’ jets. And don’t go making shit personal. …Even if Keita really is a shrimp.

-But soon he’s making them both sit down and, hey, Chiaki, weren’t you talking about where you were in the new Aegis game? …She was in the elven hideout…

-That’s where Keita just got to this morning! It’s one of the best maps yet! The look, the layout, the way they show off the elvish hatred for humanity! Yeah, yeah! Chiaki gets all hype again as her anger fizzles in the wake of getting to talk about her new favorite game with someone who gets it…

-But the best part for Keita and the worst part for Chiaki is the downright lewd pose of the elf girl in the center! Everyone else in the room promptly takes their chance to run like hell, as the argument starts right back up…! But Tasuku is on the ball this time, and cuts it right off, and can’t you both just fucking let this shit go?!

-You don’t get it! Actual quote: “We’re lonely gamers with nothing but our inflated egos.” Okay first of all Keita I fucking saw you just subtweet me right there, and second

-Of course, both of them consider this compromise simply UNACCEPTABLE…But for Tasuku, the worst part is that Aguri is on the other side of the locked door, giving him the horrifying-little-goblin face. Damn, she’s got an intense aura. Okay, time to call it short. You two have good hearts, don’t let one disagreement wreck a good thing. And Chiaki, don’t let Keita’s shit get to you. You’re cute in your own way. The messy-hair thing works for you. And now Chiaki doesn’t know what to do and Aguri is about to shatter this door with her sheet wrath and fury.

-So, okay, they’re all gamer buddies now, right? They should enjoy it. And Keita realizes how much this looks like a romance between these two, as Tasuku idly comments that if Chiaki does want a change, maybe she could try the short-haired look? She’s got the face for it, and she’d look cute as hell with it! Oh god that damned idiot…Because over at the door, Aguri has collapsed much like Karen earlier.

-Speaking of Karen, she and Eiichi are over at the window, watching this whole proceeding…And she needs to know what kind of relationship those two have! Eiichi has no idea but they seem to get along really well. OH GOD THEY GET ALONG REALLY WELL?! WHAT DOES THAT MEAN! He has no idea please quit shaking him.

-Cut to Tasuku and Aguri walking home, and Tasuku notices how quiet Aguri is…And has to try and figure out how to explain what she saw. He was mediating a fight between two friends, is all. And Aguri gets all down, because she feels she’s being lied to, and the only thing she doesn’t know is if her boyfriend is leaving her for a weird nerdy girl, or a weird nerdy guy. Oh dear…

-Cut over to Keita writing up a post on that least parody game. Which was fun, but maybe played it a bit too safe…Still, he posts a positive comment. One that gets noticed by the creator and gets a thanks sent his way! But something seems off for him…

-The next day after class, Tasuku’s more stylish friends are wanting to figure out this rumor of this really cute girl that just showed up in school out of nowhere, and Tasuku’s trying to figure out who the hell it could be…He didn’t hear about any transfers, so did someone pull off a weekend makeover…? Keita comes up and hey, want to go hang out? He would, but he’s waiting for Aguri. …Is something up, Keita?

-He’s…Worried about Tasuku and Aguri. What? Why? Tasuku doesn’t even think Keita knows Aguri…But before that subject can go any further, up come footsteps, and a very nervous Chiaki who has gotten a redo into being the bluenette from the OP and ED! And Tasuku stares, as a crowd starts forming, and Keita is the one who realizes it. That specific way it curls, like dried seaweed. WHAT DID YOU SAY YOU MOTHERFUCKER

-And Tasuku realizes oh shit it’s Chiaki. And she suddenly looks…Really cute. And oh jeez. He just got himself into a mess, didn’t he. If Aguri finds out what he said led to this…

-Of course Aguri hears it and has a freakout so bad she turns into a sketch. And Keita quietly realizes he’s in hell…But also he sees Aguri stagger off and oh jeez, as he steps away to go make sure she’s okay. And Tasuku realizes several seconds later, as Keita is off looking for Aguri who managed to pull a runner…When he runs into Karen! Karen great timing! OH GOD KEITA um er that is hi. S-She’s sorry for her misunderstanding about the other day and, um…

-Huh? Never mind that, time is of the essence. Have you seen Aguri?

-Do you just like making her suffer? Are you into S&M, is that it? Should she get one of those masks with the zippers?

-But, she saw a ditzy, cute pink-haired girl looking deeply depressed and heading for the entrance and wait tell her, exactly, why you’re looking for this girl! Relationship drama thanks bye! And Karen collapses in Keita’s absence…

-When Keita catches up to Aguri at her locker and oh, it’s the weird guy who wants to fuck Tasuku. Wait WHAT that’s not…Okay. Okay never mind. Listen. …Do you want to go have tea?! And Aguri is very, very confused, even as they end up at a little cafe, and Keita wonders when the hell this became his life, hitting on every girl around him… (YOU DAMNED FOOL CAN’T YOU SEE WHAT WAS RIGHT IN FRONT OF YOU)

-Of course, it’s VERY awkward at this cafe, as Aguri is down in the dumps and just making bubbles in her drink. And Keita tries to talk to her about what she saw and what happened. But her Tasuku said that bluenette was super cute! If he’s even her Tasuku anymore…Yeah, but that wasn’t…It’s not…He’s not into her like that. Besides, he was just talking about you and how cute you are. He definitely has strong feelings for you! just give him a chance to explain and clear the air, and Keita promises you, it’ll work out…

-And Aguri starts to perk up, as she decides to go get a fresh drink, feeling all warm and bubbly again…And Keita just relaxes at last, as he pops out his phone and sees an MMO event. Well, maybe he’ll jump into some battles, invite Mono-san, and just be able to clear his head, let everything go back to normal…When he hears the sound of a tray hitting the ground.

-And finds Aguri just standing there, locked up. Because across the street, Tasuku and Chiaki are all cuddled up WHAT THE FFFFFFFFUUUUUUUUUU

-Credits!

UUUUUUUUUUUU

[optiprimus]

lost light #7, or: i’m suing for whiplash because that’s the fastest i’ve ever gone from loving an issue to...NOT

All of the spoilers under the cut.

Breakin’ in the sideblog with a reaction to lost light 7! It’s a shame I fucking hated it. 

I liked the first...fifteen pages--I liked everything Rodimus did, I liked Magnus’s actually really tragic not-breakup with Megatron-who-is-no-longer-around. I liked Tailgate’s teen drama reaction to Whirl’s news! It’s exactly the kind of silly, over-the-top solution I’d expect from him (and, let’s be honest, most of the rest of the crew.)

The ending? Did not like that. For anyone who’s interested, here’s why. TL;DR at the end.

COMPARABLE DEATHS OVER THE COURSE OF THE TRANSFORMERS: MORE THAN MEETS THE EYE (i.e., deaths of one half of a romantic relationship where the other half is left alive to mourn)

REWIND AND CHROMEDOME. This is the O.G. Dead Gay Robot Tragedy; I wasn’t around when it happened, but I hear the outcry was so great that we, uh, got Rewind back. Because killing off one of your two canon gay men at the time is not a particularly progressive storytelling choice. And I’m glad James has no problem fixing his mistakes--hell, in this issue we get another reference to the whole “estriol positive” gendered sparktypes situation, specifically to hammer it into the ground that just kidding, that was a poor decision on my part and I apologize for it. But I digress.

Rewind’s death was INCREDIBLY fucking sad. I cried. My high school friend who knows absolutely nothing about trans formers cried. But narratively, it was satisfying. Rewind dies as a heroic sacrifice; he dies saving all his friends and the person he loves, and while that is tragic, it makes you feel proud of him. His last act is selfless, which is, in my opinion, the best note to end on.

The romantic nature of his sacrifice (romantic in the “idealized view of reality” sense as well as “expression of love”) is somewhat undercut by the apparent brutal nature of his death--if we’re to believe Overlord, he got, uh, ripped to pieces and cried for help the whole time. Which, to be fair, is what I would be doing too.

From a metafictional point of view, Rewind’s suffering is a consequence of his choice to be a hero. While this isn’t fair, it’s an established convention, and it’s what makes “making the right choice” difficult. That’s why it carries the weight it does.

Also, he, uh, comes back to life. Although the “alternate universe version of my lover returns to replace the one that died” plotline is its own can of worms, the fact remains that at the end of the day, both living members of the couple are happy again. As happy as you can be in this sort of comic.

Carrying on.

SKIDS AND NAUTICA. Hoo, boy, this one makes me cry. I will be honest: I did not realize this was meant to be a romance until issue...fifty-two? Maybe? And then I went back and looked at the panels where they’re there in the background but don’t speak, and I was so impressed by the visual storytelling that I forgot to be sad for a few minutes.

But then I was sad again. I liked Skids. I really like Nautica. I want them both to be happy. I think they made a cute couple--but Skids’s death served as a necessary part of the story in so many ways. He gets a heroic sacrifice that allows his friends to stand firm in the face of seemingly insurmountable odds (although you could argue that their powerups were pointless; they are set to lose anyway until Megatron shows up, because it’s always about Megatron. Just kidding; I like that guy.) 

It’s a natural conclusion to his character arc, and although it’s a tragic one, it’s one I really liked, in the same way I liked Sunstreaker’s death in All Hail Megatron. It’s sad, but it’s narratively satisfying (there’s that word again), because at least when they’re dead, they’re at peace.

It serves Nautica’s development, in a way that’s incredibly reminiscent of the countless dead-girlfriend-in-fridge narratives we’ve seen since time immemorial. Skids’s death pushes her towards violence in an actually really sad nod to her ongoing desire to learn more “practical” skills. When they’re up against the personality ticks, she laments her lack of combat ability, and then outsmarts the enemy instead of punching it. With Skids, there’s nothing she can fight or outsmart--but at least she can get some revenge, and put his sacrifice to good use.

Skids gets the death of a romantic hero, and for what it’s worth, I doubt he’s gone forever. I doubt any of these guys are gone forever, given what little we know of the Big Plot of the comic so far. But we can’t assume, so for now, he’s dead; he just died well.

LUG AND ANODE. Who are confirmed girlfriends, to the surprise of hopefully no one. This one feels almost like it shouldn’t count, because we see Lug in almost every issue (even if she’s a brain ghost for a lot of those) but it fits the pattern.

Lug’s death and reincarnation are one hundred percent fodder for Anode’s character arc. Let’s get that out of the way now. She dies because of Anode’s reckless adventuring ways, Anode hallucinates her presence, Anode overcomes her fear of blacksmithing to resurrect her, and Anode’s grief is resolved. In this arc, she is a storytelling tool that serves to introduce Anode and what she’s like as a person.

I don’t think this is necessarily bad. Lug has a character of her own, even if she has no agency in this arc, and from now on she gets a chance to have her own angsty plotlines. I’d be on edge of Anode were, you know, a dude, but she’s not, so this is something I’m willing to give the benefit of the doubt...on. about. I don’t think that works

Lug doesn’t die a hero’s death. Her death is an accident, resulting from someone else’s carelessness; it’s not a conscious choice on her part, which means it’s also not her fault. The story doesn’t blame her for her own death. It’s not the inspiring sacrifice we get from Rewind or Skids, but that’s okay; not every death is like that, even in fiction.

And again, she comes back. Which we sort of knew would happen, given what Anode used to do for a living. In the end, everyone who’s, you know, alive doesn’t have to be alone. It’s perhaps a bittersweet ending, but it’s a happy one.

And now the main event.

TAILGATE AND CYCLONUS.

Here’s a fun fact: I don’t think Tailgate is actually dead. I think he’s going to make it out, one way or another. I don’t know how long he’s going to be gone. We lost Rewind for upwards of a year; I don’t want to do that again. Either way, this is written with the assumption that he’s perma-dead, because as of right now that’s what we’re being led to believe.

Here’s a fun fact: if one of these two had to die, I would have preferred Cyclonus. In a heroic sacrifice. Yes, I know he wasn’t the one scripted to die way before this. No, I don’t want either of them dead. But if any character would be one hundred percent satisfied and at peace dying to save someone he loved, it’s that guy.

But instead we got this.

Tailgate dies a horrible death as a result of being a dick (apparently due to powers that...make him lash out at people and be a dick. If I’m reading that right.) You can argue that Fangry (who had such a good name, man, why did he have to be a throwaway villain. Assuming he is one) was justified in what he did; personally, I don’t think he did his due investigative diligence. Also if he was helping Kaput with this project wouldn’t he have heard him mention that Tailgate’s aggression is due to his magical girl powerup? Digression.

Here’s what the order of story events is. Tailgate breaks up with Cyclonus in a teen drama esque scene complete with a very sad visual callback to issue whatever is the one where he does bomb disposal. Cyclonus leaves and is sad. Whirl comforts him. Tailgate says “please Doc remove my dangerous superpowers so I can not die and also finally get together with the boy I like.” Doc says okay I’m going to irradiate the fuck out of you. We bury Tailgate in what is transparently a coffin a BIG BOX and then Fangry shows up and says “enjoy death fucker.” Some flowers grow. The end.

Tailgate gets revenge-killed...because he wanted to be alive and happy with the person he loved. Within the story, that’s of course not how it went down, but narratively, his death is a consequence of wanting a happy ending.

If he hadn’t had the audacity to want that, he wouldn’t have been in a position to be murdered. From a meta point of view, he is responsible for the situation and for the motivation of his killer, because he had weird superpowers and liked a boy. And he had weird superpowers because...oh. Because he liked a boy.

Maybe he’s not really dead. Maybe he escaped the death box! Maybe he’ll come back like so many others have. But even if that’s the case, I don’t understand the point of this fakeout. I don’t get it! What emotion is this supposed to engender in me besides disappointment? I’m not concerned for Tailgate because I have no way of knowing if he’s survived and I doubt I’ll find out either way for a while. I’m sad for Cyclonus, because uhh yeah I’m sad for Cyclonus, but I’ve been sad for Cyclonus since like the first issue! This isn’t new!! Anyway.

TL;DR: Every other couple split up by death has had the death be a heroic sacrifice, or not a direct result of the dead person’s mistakes, and most of them came back. Tailgate died because he beat up a dude (bad) maybe because of his magic powers (not his fault)--and because he asked Kaput to fix him so he wouldn’t die or kill anyone else and he could stay with his not-boyfriend. He died because he asked for a happy ending. Even if he’s not dead, I don’t see the point of the cliffhanger; if he’s dead, he’s dead, and we’ll be wondering indefinitely if he’s going to come back. If he’s alive, we spent [x] issues being needlessly anxious about him. That’s not a fun cliffhanger.

Drama thrives on conflict. Them’s facts. But some conflict feels good to read, and some just makes you feel sick, because it’s scary or unfair or hits a little too close to home, and I don’t know about you, but I read this comic about space robots that turn into cars for fun. Not because I want another story about “life isn’t fair” where good people die in horrible ways and bad guys get away with being bad. And if you dare to ask for a happy ending, with the person you’ve been fighting to be with for sixty issues, you suffer for it.

It’s pain for the sake of pain. It’s pointless. God knows we have enough of that already, thanks.

P.S. holy shit sorry to all the people who were invested in megs/mags that SUCKS and I feel for you