#realistically i know that he is really not THAT much more underdressed than in any of his other outfits

[notmoreflippingelves]

Wardrobe Appreciation

↳ Esteban Flores (Elena of Avalor)

[bucksangel]

A Love That Lasts

a/n: this is a REPOST from my old account @losaslut​ since i’m deleting that blog i’m reposting it here

Pairing: Hank Loza x Reader (non descript reader but if i missed anything please let me know)

Inspo came from this post by @withmyteeth 💕💕

Warnings: none except for tooth rotting fluff and so much love it’ll kill you

Word Count: 2.8k

Moodboard made by me

It’s nearing two in the afternoon, you’ve been cleaning and re-cleaning for about three hours now to distract you from the fact that Hank got called to go to the clubhouse. “It’s an emergency” is all he told you. Never mind that today is your anniversary, you’re more upset because it’s Saturday, a day both you and Hank agreed that nothing would get in the way of your time together. But, you understand, you’re always understanding. If the club needs him, then he’s there. But as understanding as you are it still doesn’t take away the ache in your chest from not having your boyfriend home with you.

Hence why you’re cleaning. It acts as a good enough distraction but you’re quickly derailed from your tasks by Bishop calling you, and concern is all you feel now. With the ‘emergency’ that’s happening at the clubhouse, your thoughts are spiraling, but the one at the front of your mind is that Hank is hurt, he must be.

You’re quick to answer the phone, fingers shaking and your heart pounding. “Is Hank okay?” You ask, demand really. You’re already shoving your shoes on before Bishop even speaks.

“You should get to the clubhouse, sweetheart.” Bishop’s voice is calm, almost melancholy, and you’re pushed into even more of a worry when the call cuts out.

You can’t help the tears that pool beneath your eyes, nor the shakiness of your hands as you fumble with the keys. Nor can you help the absolute dread in your heart at the thought that Hank could be hurt. He can’t be, your brain tells you, he can’t do this to you, not today. So, you rush out of the house, shoes untied, and make the ten minute drive to the clubhouse. Those ten minutes feel like ten hours, every red light only serving to aggravate you further, but it gives you time to think. Think, really, is not the right word. Worry is more like it. You spend those ten minutes worrying yourself into a panic, preparing for the what if’s.

And when you do finally make it to the clubhouse, you barely have the car parked before you’re tripping over yourself to run up the stairs and slam open the doors, searching frantically for Hank. You don’t find him though, in fact, no one is in the clubhouse. And if you weren’t in such a rush to get to your boyfriend you’d realize that none of the guys’ bikes are out front either. Looking around the room, your confusion triples. Hanging along the walls are fairy lights, meeting in the middle of the roofing to create a canopy that surrounds the lone table in the middle of the room. The lights have been dimmed, a single candle along with two plates of what you assume is Hank’s cooking (you’d recognize the smell anywhere) and an empty vase sit on the table.

You don’t have much time to figure what this could all be about before Hank comes out from the back, stepping into the light and wearing clothes he definitely did not leave the house in. He’s in his nicest pair of jeans (the only ones without grease stains), a simple black button up with the sleeves pushed to his elbows (swoon), and most notably: he’s not wearing his kutte. Now, you’re more amused than anything. It’s clear this must have been a set up, that Hank must have faked the emergency to set all of this up. For what, you’re unsure of. You could be pissed that he lied to you, pissed that he put you through the worry, and you are, sort of. Yes you’re mad that he tricked you, but you’re more in awe over the fact that he put this together for you, like something from a fairytale.

Hank is the first to step towards you, one arm is behind his back while the other reaches out to you. He takes slow and deliberate steps, and you take only one towards him before his hand grasps yours and you’re pulled into his chest, his arm wrapping around you. During this hug you recognize two things. One being that his heart is beating at a rapid pace, it thumps in his chest where your cheek lies. Two being that, with the way your arms are wrapped around his waist, you can feel flower stems. Now, it should be said that you’re not the most intuitive, but you’re starting to suspect this has to do with something bigger than just an anniversary date.

Before you know it, Hank has placed a gentle kiss to the top of your head and pulled back to really look at you. You’re starting to feel underdressed in just shorts and one of Hank’s shirts tucked into it, but with the way your man is looking at you, you can’t help but feel like the most beautiful person in the world. Your arms travel from his back to smooth over his sides and run up his chest, one hand placed behind his neck and the other one fiddling with the top two buttons of his shirt that are undone.

And you smile, you’re smiling so wide it hurts but you don’t care, all you care about is how Hank is staring at you. So much adoration pouring out of him that it makes you want to cry (but you’re using all your willpower to not, you’re going to save your tears for the end of the night). When Hank pulls the flowers from behind his back, four light pink roses (one for every year you’ve been together), you laugh. You’re not sure what else to do honestly, you’re filled with so much happiness and love for your man that it bursts out of you in a laugh that Hank swears is the most beautiful sound in the world.

“Baby-” You’re cut off by Hank kissing you, not too deep, not what some would call passionate, but a soft and slow kiss that lets you know that he’s here, he loves you and he wants you to know it. When he pulls back, your head is spinning for a different reason, spinning with love and thoughts of wanting this to last forever, until the end of time. “What’s all this about?” You breathe out, the wind almost knocked out of you while your brain tries to catch up to the situation.

Hank’s smile widens, and he lets go of you so he can walk over to the table and place the roses in the vase. Turning back to you, he extends his arm again, and once you’re close he lifts your hands up and presses a kiss to your knuckles. And once again, you’re swooning, heart so filled with something you’re sure is greater than love. “You didn’t think I would actually leave you alone on our anniversary, did you?” Hank chuckles softly, kissing your hands again before stepping to the side and pulling out a chair for you to sit in.

“How long did it take you to put this up?” You ask, looking around at the beauty that surrounds you, still in awe of it all.

“Well,” Hank chuckles again, “It was supposed to take an hour at most, but you know how the guys are with getting distracted.” Both of you laugh at this, because it’s true. You wouldn’t doubt that Angel and Coco were probably causing more of a mess than actually helping. Hank sits next to you, and takes your hand in his again. “But I will admit, this has been a few weeks of planning.”

Four years together and Hank still knows how to take your breath away, he still manages to surprise you in everything he does. But you don’t get a chance to speak before he’s pushing your plate closer to you (not his BBQ for once, but an alfredo pasta dish that you’re starting to recognize as the same dish he cooked a few weeks ago, and then again last week (probably preparing and perfecting the recipe)). So, you don’t say anything, you both dig into dinner while throwing glances at each other like teenagers going on their first date, and it’s perfect.

Dessert comes next, Hank goes to the back again and reemerges holding a pie that he definitely made himself (he’ll deny it if you tell anyone, but he does happen to be a pretty solid baker). Through dessert, you’re talking softly about anything and everything. You’re both just happy to be close and together that you don’t bother with any heavy topics. At one point, Hank makes you laugh so hard you throw your head back and snort (something that’s never happened before you met your boyfriend (because that’s how happy he makes you, so unable to control your reactions)).

And when you look up at him, ready to tell him about your adventures yesterday while visiting your mother yesterday, your voice cuts off. Hank is moving towards the bar where, how did you not notice it, a stereo rests. He’s quick to press a few buttons and a soft tune fills the air. It must be something from a symphony, with how melodic and peaceful it is. He returns to your side to pull you from your chair, and you don’t even have time to think when suddenly Hank twirls you around and pulls you into his chest. And the next thing you know, you’re being twirled all around the room, Hank’s hand covering your hand that rests on his chest and his other arm wrapped around your waist.

You’re giggling almost the entire time, both of you gazing into each other’s eyes and smiles so soft that if anyone were to see you, they’d probably be sick with how in love you two are. The songs flow into each other, and you dance for what feels like hours (realistically it’s probably been twenty minutes), no words spoken besides whispering I love you’s periodically. When the songs finally end and you’re both dizzy from the spins and the dips, you both step back from each other and again, the clubhouse is silent. It’s not an eerie kind of silence, but a pleasant one. Being with Hank has taught you that you don’t always need to talk to be able to understand what someone’s feeling. And what you’re feeling right now is an emotion so overwhelming, you do cry. You’re not sobbing, just letting out a few tears from the happiness that flows through your blood.

Hank wipes away your tears, presses a kiss to each cheek, and whisks you away to the back porch where, again, you’re caught off guard by the sheer beauty of it all. More lights are strung up on various boxes and around chairs. The fire pit is lit and the flames dance upwards, filling the space with light and warmth. It’s not until you turn around that you notice blankets and pillows piled together to create a make-shift bed. In front of the set up is the side of the clubhouse, empty. Your thoughts as to what this could be about are answered as Hank steps away from you to turn on a projector that’s sitting on top of a crate, a laptop next to it. You watch as he fiddles with the machines and when you turn back, the projector comes to life, casting light to the otherwise blank wall. When the opening credits of Little Women start playing (because let’s be real, it’s a cinematic masterpiece and the scene with Jo in the attic makes you cry every single time) you don’t bother to wait for your boyfriend while you rush to the pile of blankets (and wow does it feel like you’re on a cloud).

If you could see Hank, you’d see the nervousness plain as day etched into his face, you’d see how his hands shake ever so slightly, you’d see how he gazes at you with a love that even he can’t quite wrap his head around. But soon enough, he joins you in your own little paradise. He wraps you in his arms and lays you against his chest and kisses your head, and you know. You know that this is what heaven feels like. Laying in your man’s arms, feeling his feather-light kisses placed anywhere he can reach, feeling his love radiating off of him and getting absorbed by your mind, body, and soul.

You’re maybe halfway through the movie when Hank shifts and reaches into his pocket (trying so very hard to be stealthy so as to not alert you to what he’s doing (he does, but you don’t say anything)). When you’re both finally settled and the movie continues on, you don’t even realize Hank is fiddling with your fingers, nor do you realize the sudden cool metal that slipped onto your ring finger. It’s not until a whopping eight minutes later (Hank was counting) that he pulls your hand up to his lips and places a delicate kiss onto your knuckles. You turn in his arms, leaning your head back and using the hand that he was holding to rest on his cheek, and pull him down to meet your lips.

The kiss is soft and slow, like you’ve got all the time in the world to just sit here and relish in each other’s love. You move to deepen the kiss and then all of a sudden Hank’s pulling back, grabbing your left hand again, and placing another soft kiss to your knuckles. Only then do you realize why he’d been so focused on your hands, specifically your left one. Because on it rests the most beautiful ring you’ve ever seen. Small diamonds line a gold band, with a slightly larger diamond in the middle. It’s simple, and with the lights all around you it glimmers with every twist of your hand.

You’re too stunned to speak, too in love with Hank to express how your heart is ripping apart and is being replaced by everything him. You’re staring at the ring, mouth open and tears now heavily pouring down your cheeks. And when you finally get your wits about you, you scramble to turn and face Hank, straddling him and placing both hands on his face, eyes searching desperately to find any sense of humor, any sign that he’s joking.

But you don’t find any of that. You find tears gathering in his eyes as he leans you forward to press your forehead against his. His voice is soft, almost afraid to speak too loud and ruin the moment. “Amor,” He stops, taking a deep breath before speaking again, “You’re my everything, my heart and soul, you’re the courage I need to take on anything and everything. You’re…” He pauses again, and a stray tear falls out of his left eye. He pulls you back a fraction so he can stare deep into your eyes, one hand holding your waist and the other takes your hands from his face so he can kiss them once again. “You’re the best thing to ever happen to me. And I hope you keep happening to me for the rest of our lives. I’m pleading, make me the happiest man in the world and say you’ll marry me.”

Hank barely gets out the last word as you smash your lips to his, it’s a little messy, and you do miss his lips at first, but it’s perfect. You’re unable to sustain the kiss for long with how heavy you’re breathing, so instead, you peck his lips once, twice, and then one more time. And then you’re pulling back, and Hank will swear to the end of his days that you’re glowing, shining so bright as you stare at him, and he wants to make you feel like this always. He wants to make you so happy, he wants you to feel the love that he feels, the love that has consumed his entire being.

“Ask me,” You breathe out, lips curved up and shaking from the sob that’s threatening to burst. Hank looks confused at first, so you continue, “You have to ask me first, then I can say yes.”

Hank laughs, he tilts his head back to rest against the pillow behind him and looks up at you with the softest smile to ever grace his beautiful face. “I guess you’re right. So, will you marry me?” And this time, you laugh.

You’re giggling from the sheer happiness of it all, so much that you’re barely able to get out your answer, “Of course I will, handsome.”

The movie’s ended, but you and Hank are still lying wrapped in each other’s arms, content to spend the rest of your lives like this. And you’re hoping with everything in you that this love doesn’t fade, that you’ll be this happy and this in love when you’re both old and gray. But you also know that it won’t. The love you feel could never fade even if you wanted it to (and by the grace of god, you’ll never want to stop loving him).

And while you’re there, in your slice of heaven, you’re already planning the wedding in your head, too excited to become a Loza.

[matsuokaparadise]

Rin Matsuoka relationship hcs

This is quite the hefty post, since I’ve tried to cover as many aspects of the relationship as possible (both SFW and NSFW), but if any of you liked a particular (set) of hc(s), feel free to hit my ask box and I will elaborate on it/them with a drabble or maybe even a full-sized fic (if your patience is otherworldly). 

where does one even begin

this relationship would be full of everything from extreme sap, to extreme drama to extreme romance to extreme steam- literally nothing missing, aka you just can’t possibly get bored

you better expect this boi to go to the ends of hell for you because that’s exactly what he’s going to do and if you’re not ready to do the same for him you may walk yourself out the door, sir

also, a relationship with a world-class athlete ain’t easy- you have to brace yourself for a whole lot of time spent apart, not only because of his competitions and whatnot, but also because of his incessant training- an integral and necessary part of his career

but not only do you have to prepare yourself mentally for the long-distance-despite-not-being-long-distance aspect, you have to remember that he is constantly under massive pressure too 

being super clingy and complaining all the damn time is a massive no from your girl here 

but to get into the actual relationshippy things 

this boi would absolutely love the idea of matching jewellery 

you know the way he’s always wearing some sort of bracelet or necklace

yeah he’d totally get you two a bracelet or something after a good while of the relationship because-

-he’d also be the kind to take everything slow 

so he’s super passionate as we all know, but he’s not really a rash person 

he’s definitely grown a lot and I feel that many people actually keep labelling him as the dude he used to be when he was 17 and was a teeny tiny bit of an asshole 

however, he really thinks things through and realises the importance of pacing in a relationship

I mean yeah if you’re good with it early on it’s not like he’d wait 3 months to have sex or anything 

I just mean that he wouldn’t be throwing in unnecessarily grand gestures like saying I love you at 1 month and a half, especially if you haven’t even known each other that long, like you were just classmates or something for a year or so and then decided to date

in fact, during the relationship, he wouldn’t really drop the 3 words all that often I guess

it’s not really because he just gets flustered sometimes-he’s not 15 anymore-it’s actually because he strongly believes in their meaning and doesn’t want to trivialise it

I guess this is part of his Japanese side that hasn’t changed at all despite the foreign influence from early on in his life and also at present, at university

so when he says it, it’s a really important moment

that, or he’s just pent up so much love towards you that he just had to express it directly 

he’d be very good with words, though

as he still has this tendency to express his sentimentality rather indirectly, he has mastered the technique of making you feel things with simple words, but carefully chosen ones 

also, he’d be real big on affectionate gestures

this boi would really be the kind to gift you random things for absolutely no reason and buy you flowers

when he’s in public with you he wouldn’t really do more than hold your hand and occasionally give you a peck or something, 

but when you two are alone he’d really enjoy either lounging with you combing his hair with your fingers while he’s lying on your lap

or hugging you from behind when you’re doing random things just to surprise you and see your reaction

couple workouts! but fear not, not the cringe yoga and him doing push-ups with you on his back kind of workout- rather, him lending you a hand, sometimes jogging together and just generally the two of you doing your own thing together 

bonus: Rin stealing some appreciative glances at you amidst your intense workout session, which can either lead to a candid, loving compliment, or would trigger some ;;;;;) moment in him which will catch up on you unknowingly later during the day (or, should I say, night ;;;;) )

bonus x2: seeing him sweaty, panting and gawking in awe at his perfectly sculpted muscles which are flexing before your very eyes... damn 

one of his best looks would be his black tank top with a pair of sweats, a look he generally wears around the apartment and which, despite being as casual as you can get, is a genuine gift from God 

nevermind all of his very well coordinated looks which make all the lasses turn their heads on the street 

which brings me to-

-shopping dates and him helping you choose what to wear when you’re going somewhere

even though you’re not together at that moment, if you’re in a quandary as to what to wear for a specific event, snap him a few pics of the outfits, or just ask him directly (yes, he remembers what clothes you have- a scarily good ability) and he’ll give you a whole ass run down of why this one’s good but that one’s better etc etc

also, since we’re on the topic of pics;) 

this boi would LOOVE taking selfies with you! just imagine: two dorks making peace signs in the most adorable selfie ever 

he’d be a bit shy about using cute filters but you’d end up taking cat whisker selfies with him in no time 

but also

since the relationship involves so much time apart 

texting (and sexting) can be a really important part of your relationship (here you can read my Rin texting headcanons)

he’d make you feel like a goddess most of the time, because he really appreciates your hard work 

but whenever you’re in a slump he’d be your number 1 source of motivation

it’s really different when you see someone you don’t really know who becomes successful and whatever, but when the man you know so intimately and who you’re so close to is that person, achieving your goals really becomes more realistic 

after all, sometimes you need motivation from external sources too, there’s nothing wrong with that

a very healthy relationship indeed, you two would psych each other up and be there for each other, teach each other things and be an inspiration to one another 

but hey lemme give you some NSFW because I know you were looking for this part

i’m just gonna say this, Rin is a whole ass dom who really loves pleasing

and teasing 

so don’t expect anything without at least a little bit of teasing 

enjoys positions in which he can see you (and your facial expressions) properly, positions in which he can kiss you, nibble on your earlobe, you got it

not to say that he doesn’t enjoy taking you from behind

actually, do expect some nice desk/table/kitchen counter action 

he’s not vanilla but he’s not necessarily kinky either 

so he’d be up for the occasional roleplay, the occasional tying you up, occasional cosplay, you know

things he usually does include: biting (your neck, collarbone, ear, lip, thighs, sides of your abdomen), edging, breath play if you’re really into it, a lot of goddamn whispering in your ear and around your neck, does it make sense if I say suave dirty talk? like he wouldn’t use curse words, he’d just say things in such a manner that he’s using rather sweet words which end up sounding sexy and a bit indecent 

sex with him would definitely feel more like lovemaking rather than a good fucking if you get my gist 

aka imagine less of whatever porn scenario you have in mind with very rough handling and imagine more of a really jazzy kind of thing, even when you’re spicing it up with different things

actual rough sex with him would occur, but really not often at all

i guess i can narrow it down to passionate and extremely sensual 

the boi really gets off to your being extra pleased, so expect long sessions

get ready to be worshipped, you goddess, both in and outside of the bedroom

he probably won’t let this show too much, but he’s the kind who would be absolutely ruined if you broke up with him or things weren’t working well

but you’d never see that, because he’s matured a lot and he knows how to pull through difficulties

he’d cook for you super often! whether you know how to cook or not really doesn’t concern him because you bet he’ll wine and dine you all the freaking time 

and he’ll cherish whatever you cook, even if it’s some underdressed salad, or slightly overcooked eggs with toast

he really deserves all the love that he can get

the relationship definitely won’t be smooth, but it won’t lack in anything and it would only get better and better with time- it’s literally impossible to end up complacent with him because there’s always something new 

even the medium amounts of drama that arise only add to the amazing things this relationship has to bring 

kissing the tears off each other’s cheeks, frantic embraces, sometimes over-the-top, grand displays of affection after a long time of not having seen each other, or even small gestures that end up moving either of you to tears 

this would only be a glimpse into how the relationship would feel like with this absolute babe and sweetheart of a man

i could go on forever so please do ask for more of these

[george-mackay-macfine]

The Interview

REQUESTED

Synopsis: George and Y/N are doing press for their new film when George lets a personal detail slip. 

Wordcount: 1,000

“Okay, so the way it’ll work is Matt will come in, ask you guys some questions and then you’ll have an hour for lunch, then we have more interviews until three, then we’re done for the day.” Frank the head of promotion for mine and Georges new film white picket fences rattled as we walked into the room that’d be set up for the promotional day. “Any questions?”

“No,” We spoke in unison. He grabbed me by the shoulders walking me to the first chair, then going back for George and sitting him beside me. 

“Do you want to watch a movie tonight?” George asked me as we sat on the set chairs waiting for the interviewer. “Maybe after we can have a bath.” 

“Don’t you threaten me with a good time Mr MacKay.” I whispered, grabbing his hand to fiddle with his fingers. “Because I might just need to take you up on it.” 

“I promise to give you back massages in the bath.” 

“A wet and suddsey George, and it isn’t even my birthday.” George chuckled and shook his head. 

“He’s here.” A voice crackled over Frank’s radio. I let go of George’s hand and straightened myself in my seat, noticing George out of the corner of my eye fiddling with his crutch. 

“Problem.” George glared at me crossing his legs over to hide the obvious bulge in his jeans. 

“Send him in.” He spoke into it. “Alright. He’s got twenty minutes, then you’re free for lunch.” Frank announced as Matt walked into the room. He was an interviewer from LadBible and was underdressed in comparison to George and me. 

“Matt.” He held his hand to George, shaking it, then mine. 

“George, this is Y/N.” 

“Pleasure.” He sat on the chair opposite us. “So LadBible is a super relaxed platform, so we’re looking for people to also be super relaxed, don’t feel you need to put on a front.” He began. “Were looking for the real you.” 

“Sounds great.” George clapped his hands together. “We love to relax.” 

“I bet you do, especially after this film.” Matt laughed. 

“And we’re rolling.” A voice behind Matt called, Matt nodded his head and looked at George first. 

“Thank you so much for sitting down with us George, Y/N.” He cleared his throat. “Now your new film is called white picket fences can you tell us a little bit about the film, and what drew you to the project?” George turned to me, urging me to begin. 

“The film is about a girl, who's about twenty-three and her internal struggle with turning against something she’s believed in for so long. My character, Nina has been pro-life for as long as she can remember, and there’s this cataclysmic event that changes her life and sends her for a massive tumble, and really makes her question pro-life, and pro-choice.” I tried my best to avoid giving massive spoilers to the film. “She experiences new relationships, and basically see’s a whole new side to the debate and spends the film working out if she still believes in pro-life, or if that’s changed.” 

“And what drew you to it?” 

“The story itself is really confronting, and our writers didn’t shy away from anything. They did an amazing job, they didnt’ demonize anyone, they didn’t force pro-life, or pro-choice down anyone’s throats they really wrote a work that speaks as a singular story, but also a story that so many women around the world can relate to, and the fact they didnt’ just focus on the abortion fight but also on Nina’s relationships really tipped me over the edge for wanting to be a part of it.” 

“And what about you, George?” 

“My character Eddie is the opposite of Nina, he’s very pro-choice, and as a male, it’s interesting to see that perspective because so often people think of men being so pro-life, not pro-choice so to be able to play someone who is so entirely for woman's rights was monumental for me.” George cleared his throat. “As Y/N said, our writers did an incredible job, and I wanted to do this because I know many women who have had to go through this process, and I really wanted to show my solidarity with them as best I could and show them how I understood them and heard them.” 

“Well it is an amazing story, phenomenal performances by the both of you, but you know I have to ask you about that scene.” George and I shared a look. “You know the scene.” 

“Do we?” I chuckled, cheeks heating up rapidly. 

“Like you said Y/N, your characters journey show’s her progress in friendships, and relationships and that includes George’s character Eddie, and the sex scene you guys share...” He let out a low whistle, fanning himself with his cards. “I have to admit to you, it has got to be one of the most realistic, intense sense I have ever seen.” 

“Thank you.” George chuckled. 

“I’m serious, it’s so tastefully done, but it is so realistic. The whole condom vs pill debate, it's a real thing that happens, and the fact the writers choose to include it... it made the film so much more real to me.” 

“We had the best writers.” I agree. “And we wanted it to be real, we spoke with Greta our director, and we had a conversation about how we can make this seem so real, what do couples do... How can we make this seem like a real couple, having their first time.”

“And passionately having their first time too.” George added. 

“I’ll put my money on it when people see it they’re going to think it’s even hotter than those in fifty shades of grey series.” He let out a low breath. “How quickly in the film did you guy’s film that?”

“We shot that particular scene towards the end of the shooting, perhaps the last three scenes to be shot.” I looked to George for confirmation. 

“Yeah, it was towards the end so we’d gotten to know one and other, and became friends and very comfortable with one and other before the shooting actually happened.”

“How do you do a sex scene that intense? How do you cope and go about doing that? Shooting a scene like that, Because you George do appear to go down on Y/N.”

“Wasn’t too different from our real-life really.” George blurted, “Fuck.” He whispered… George, Matt and I all stopped. Unable to process quick enough exactly what George had admitted. 

“What he means is…” I stuttered. “He’s trying to say…” Suddenly Matt burst out laughing unable to keep a straight face. 

“Holy fuck.” He chuckled. “I can’t believe that happened.” He shook his head, I turned and hit George’s arm. 

“I can’t believe you said that.” George began laughing. “I’m serious.” I tried to hold in a laugh. 

“You heard the man, we leave fifty shades of grey looking tame.” George laughed harder.

“So just so we’re on the same page, you two are dating?” Matt asked.

“Or are we just friends?” I raised an eyebrow. 

“Bedfellow’s maybe?” Matt countered. 

“What if we’ve never shared a bed?” George pondered. 

“So you’re saying you two aren’t dating?” 

“I wouldn’t say that.” I offered. 

“So you are.” 

“But we wouldn’t say that.” George chuckled. 

“I’m extremely confused, and running out of time with you both,” Matt chuckled looking between us. “We’ll leave it to the viewers to decide.” He looked at me. “Y/N amazing performance, Same for you George, I smell Oscar nominations that’s for sure.” He held his hand out shaking both of ours. “Pleasure to meet you both.” 

[cxllardgrxxns]

@sundayybest​

“Til death to do us part,” the famous line from all the movies and tv shows about marriage, the one people knew more than anything to expect at a wedding: a vow to spend your life with someone that somehow, Mickey and Babs had broken. There’d been no lack of faithfulness between the two of them, no begging for forgiveness or falling in love with someone else. They simply grew as individuals, and in doing so, their marriage fizzled out. It crushed him to think of it that way, really, when it had once been something so certain and true that he knew it could withstand any test that time may throw at it. It was supposed to be that way.

But Mickey knew, realistically, that he was as much to blame for the loss of their marriage. He refused to think of it as a ‘loss of love,’ not when Barbara O’Shea was the only person who he’d ever been able to see himself spending an eternity with. Even now, he loved her from his core. He wasn’t sure how much she had changed, or really even how much he’d changed, but he knew he loved her. For all of his days, Michael Montgomery would always, always love her.

Mickey hadn’t been expecting company, and the knock at his door had him rolling his own eyes at the thought of another salesman for a company he didn’t need services from, or worse, a religious group looking to share their good news. He stood from his spot on the couch, hit pause on the remote and made his way to the front door, hands smoothing over his shirt as he opened it and prepared to deflect whatever questions were about to come his way. The moment his eyes landed on Babs, though, he felt like his heart stopped in his chest. It was silent for a moment, Mickey afraid that speaking would shatter whatever dreamlike state he’d fallen into. His mind whirled, convincing him that this wasn’t possible and that Barbie couldn’t be standing before him, not here in Atlanta, not today.

Oh, but she was.

Hearing her speak, Mickey’s lips tugged upward into a slight grin. The confusion written all over his face was still there, but softened. “Shit, Barbie,” he said softly, reaching out to take her shoulder in his hand before he gently pulled her to his chest. Was one supposed to greet their ex-wife with a hug? Mickey didn’t know, and quite frankly, he didn’t care. He held her tightly to his chest, breathing in the scent of her and remembering the way she’d always seemed to fit so perfectly against him, even when he was a teenage boy growing too fast for his own body to know how to function.

“Come on in,” he finally said, releasing the woman and holding the door open for her. He was suddenly aware of how underdressed he felt, but she’d seen him in much less, so he tried not to care. After all this time, he still wanted to impress her, which made absolutely no sense on paper. The ink on their divorce papers was well dried by now, and they’d both been living entirely different lives, states away from each other. Mickey wondered to himself about how it was possible to feel so incredibly in love with someone he didn’t actually know, but he knew it was true. He loved her, regardless of who she had become.

“What are you doing here? Not that,” he held up both hands innocently, shrugging, “not that I mind, because I don’t. I don’t mind one bit. I just didn’t think I’d see you in Atlanta any time soon.” He gestured toward the kitchen awkwardly before running a hand through his hair. “Do you want something to drink? I’ve got water and sweet tea.”

Goodness, how could I have forgotten how good he feels.

Truthfully, Barbara wasn’t likely to fail recalling the things that made Mickey uniquely him. For they were the very things she’d fallen in love with. But there was a difference between living in the memories of forgotten trinkets and recollections from years prior compared to actually breathing it in. Her body molded to his larger physique with such a natural ease it felt as if the time they’d spent apart was insignificant. There is the hug of gentle arms that still gives the space to breathe; then there was his embrace of strong arms that told everything she was - body, mind and soul - that he was with her. No one’s arms felt quite like this, Babs snuggled in, “Language” was her gentle chastise, smiling into the folds of his shirt. In that moment, with her toes grazing the ground, she felt his arms squeeze a fraction tighter and Babs breathed more slowly. Her body melting into his as every muscle lost its tension to the spring air.

Just like old times.

Being smothered in Mickey’s warmth was never long enough for Babs. Her worries disappeared like rain on summer earth. In that embrace she was cocooned better than any butterfly-to-be. As she felt his arms receding she inhaled one last whiff of his essence and the smell of freshly laundered clothes before schooling her features. She followed after him, gripping the edge of her sundress to calm her nerves. She couldn’t help but scan the vicinity looking for signs of…what exactly? Someone else? Some lingering presence of someone that might be permeating his existence. Someone he might be missing. Someone that wasn’t her. She knew the last time he wrote of an significant other was only to reveal the end of said relationship. Babs was still ashamed of her relief. But coming to see Mickey without warning was an impulsive action on her part and she dreaded interrupting some budding affair.

“Sweet tea is fine” she finally answered, simultaneously satisfied and mortified by her thoughts. Why wasn’t some girl feening for Mickey’s affections she wondered. “Its my company, they’re expanding and I was asked to oversea the process” she took a seat at his kitchen island. “Look like we’re going to be living in the same city from now on, ain’t that the darndest stroke of fate” She watched his expression, wary of his reaction to the news. She wasn’t sure how she’d be able to cope if he was in anyway dismayed at her arrival. “Got myself a nice place in the heart of the town, call me a city slicker now”

[the-desolated-quill]

Quill’s Swill - The Worst Of 2019

Congratulations! You’ve made it through another year! You’ve faced many obstacles and overcome many adversaries to arrive here, at the dawn of a new decade. So as we prepare to leave the 2010s and make our way into the 2020s, lets take a look back at the challenges and hardships of 2019. And by challenges and hardships, I of course mean shitty fiction and media.

Yes, it’s time for yet another edition of Quill’s Swill, where we mark the absolute worst stories that the industry had to offer over the past year and proceed to tear them to shreds. Think of it as like voiding your bowels before the New Year.

As always remember that this is my personal, subjective opinion. If you happen to like any of the things on this list, that’s fine. More power to you. Go make your own list. Also bear in mind I haven’t seen everything 2019 has to offer due to various other commitments. So as much as I really, really want to, I can’t put Avengers Endgame on here. I know what happens. It sounds fucking terrible, but I haven’t seen the film, so it wouldn’t be fair of me to put it on the list, even though it would most definitely deserve it.

...

Seriously, read the synopsis of Endgame on Wikipedia some time. It’s like fanfic written by a nine year old. It’s truly shocking. And now it’s the highest grossing movie of all time? Give me strength.

All In A Row

Don’t you just hate it when you’re expected to parent your autistic child? Like actually show love and care and consideration to your offspring. Look at him, expecting you to treat him like a human being. Selfish bastard! If only there was a play that explored the horrors of having to be a decent person to your own flesh and blood and how objectively awful it is. If you’re one of those people, then the play All In A Row will be right up your street.

Premiering on the 14th February at Southwark Playhouse in London, All In A Row was a total shitshow to say the least. The playwright, Alex Oates, claimed to have ten years of experience working with autistic children, which you wouldn’t have believed if you saw the play as the autistic child at the centre of the play, Lawrence, seemed more like a wild animal than a person. In fact two of the main characters compare him to a dog. And if you thought this wasn’t dehumanising enough, Lawrence isn’t even a child. He’s a puppet. Yes, it’s as bad as it sounds.

All In A Row seems to place all of the blame for the family’s predicament on the autistic child, who’s presented as barely functional, bordering on bestial. There’s no effort to really make an emotional connection with Lawrence (how can you? He’s a puppet!) as the play instead focuses on how this kid has effectively ruined this family’s life because of his autism and aggressive behaviour. Speaking as someone on the autism spectrum, I can say quite confidently that this play is fucking despicable. Badly written, badly conceived, insulting and downright mean spirited. I wouldn’t want Oates looking after my autistic children, that’s for damn sure.

Anthem

EA is back and this time they’re dragging the critical darling that is BioWare down with them.

Anthem was a desperate attempt to jump aboard the ‘live service’ bandwagon, trying to replicate the success of other video games like Overwatch, Destiny and Warframe. They failed spectacularly. The game itself had more bugs than A Bug’s Life, loot drops were often stingy and unrewarding, loading times were farcically long, and the story and worldbuilding was fucking pitiful. Oh yeah, and if you played it on PS4, there was a good chance it could permanently damage it. Thankfully I have a uni friend with an Xbox One and they allowed me to play the game on that. It was a crushing disappointment, especially coming fresh off the heels of Mass Effect Andromeda, which didn’t exactly set the world on fire back in 2017.

It didn’t help that EA’s reputation was in tatters thanks to the lootbox controversy of Star Wars Battlefront II and having to try and win back the trust of fans, but worse still reports began to service of what went on behind the scenes at BioWare during the game’s development. Apparently the game’s story and mechanics kept changing every other day as the creative directors and writers didn’t have the faintest idea what kind of game they wanted to make, and the developers were often forced to work obscenely long work hours in abusive crunch periods to get the game finished for launch. It got so bad that, according to an article on Kotaku, some members of the team had to leave for weeks or even months at a time to recover from ‘stress casualties.’ 

To think this was the same company that gave us Mass Effect, Dragon Age and Knights Of The Old Republic. Thank God that Obsidian Entertainment is there to pick up the slack on the RPG front because I think it’s safe to assume that BioWare won’t be around for much longer at this rate.

The Lion King (2019 remake)

Here we go. Yet another live action remake of a Disney classic. Excpet it’s not live action, is it? Well... it’s live action in the sense that Dinosaur was live action (remember that film? Don’t worry if you don’t. No one does). Real locations but CGI characters. Millions of dollars spent on cutting edge tech to create photo realistic animals... and the film ends up duller than a bowl of porridge that really likes trainspotting.

It’s not just the fact that The Lion King remake is yet another soulless cash grab from the House of Mouse, it’s also the fact that it’s done really badly that upsets me. The Lion King works as an animated film. Bright colourful images, over the top song and dance sequences and vibrant character designs. As a ‘live action’ film, it just looks awkward and stilted. None of the animals are very expressive, leaving it up to the poor voice actors to carry the film, and to cap it all off the CGI isn’t even all that convincing in my opinion. At no point did I look at Simba and go ‘oh yeah, he looks like a real lion.’ It’s so obviously fake. In fact it reminds me of those early 00s movies like Cats & Dogs or Stuart Little where you see the jaws of the talking animals moving up and down like some messed up ventriloquist act or something. And here’s me thinking cinema has evolved past this.

BBC’s The War Of The Worlds

Remember Peter Harness? That guy who wrote that Doctor Who episode about the moon being an egg? Yeah, he’s back and he’s doing an adaptation of H.G. Wells’ War Of The Worlds. And guess what! It’s fucking ghastly! :D

The three part BBC mini-series was without a doubt some of the worst telly I think I’ve ever seen. It’s staggering how clueless Harness is as a writer. For starters he managed to achieve the impossible and somehow made a Martian invasion of Earth boring. I didn’t even think it was possible, but somehow he pulled it off. Then he sucks all tension out of the story by revealing the ultimate fate of the Martians at the beginning of the second episode, so now any threat or danger has been chucked out of the window because we know that the main female protagonist Amy at least would survive. And then finally he takes a massive dump over the source material by having humanity weaponise typhoid to kill the red weed rather than just having the Martians die of the common cold like in the book. Because God forbid us Brits should be presented as anything other than heroic and dignified.

So what we’re left with is a poorly realised allegory with ineffectual horror tropes full of OTT progressive posturing in a pathetic attempt to make Harness and the BBC look more liberal than they actually are. There’s no effort to really explore the themes of imperialism and colonialism outside of casual lip service, and we barely get a glimpse of the dark side of humanity. Everyone is presented as flawed, but basically awesome or, in the case of Rafe Spall’s character, utterly gormless. Our TV license fees help fund this shit, you know?!

And if you think this was bad, just wait till New Year’s Day where we’ll get to see Steven Moffat and Mark Gatiss’ butcher Dracula. Can we stop giving these beloved literary icons to these hacks please?

Glass

I liked Split. It wasn’t an amazing movie, but it was entertaining with some good ideas, a great performance from James McAvoy and was a true return to form for M Night Shyamalan. That being said, I wasn’t keen on the idea of it taking place in the same universe as Unbreakable. I feared it would be a step too far and we’d end up having something like... well, something like Glass.

On paper, Glass isn’t a bad idea. The idea of superpowers being a delusion is legitimately intriguing and could have been a great post-modern deconstruction of the superhero genre. Except Shyamalan never actually does anything with it. The first act drags on and on with absolutely nothing happening, none of the characters really grow or change over the course of the film, Bruce Willis in particular is basically only here for an extended cameo as his character does pretty much nothing for the majority of the film, and then the entire film is undermined by that stupid Shyamalan twist. Turns out superhumans are real and there’s a big cover up. Oh great! So not only does it render the entire film pointless, it also undoes what made Unbreakable and Split so good. They’re no longer people capable of extraordinary feats via rational means. They’re just superhuman. They can do anything. Sigh.

Shyamalan... maybe it’s time to give up the director’s chair, yeah?

Cats

Oh come on! Don’t act surprised! Did you honestly think I wouldn’t put Cats on this list?!

Cats, without a doubt, is the worst film of the decade and, yes, the CGI is terrible. Not only are there these sub-human cat mutants running around, we also have mice and cockroaches with child faces, James Corden coughing up furballs, Taylor Swift trying to give the furries in the audience boners, Idris Elba looking disturbingly underdressed and Rebel Wilson being... well... Rebel Wilson. It’s a disaster of a film. And really, should we even be surprised? We all knew this was going to suck. And no it’s not because of the CGI. I thought the CGI in Pokemon: Detective Pikachu was creepy as well, but at least it had a decent script and good performances to back it up. No the reason why Cats sucked is because... it’s Cats. It’s always been that bad. No amount of ‘advanced fur technology’ was going to change that. It was still going to be a confused, plotless mess with one dimensional characters and bad songs.

The only consolation I had was that I didn’t waste money buying a ticket. A friend of mine snuck me into the premiere and we watched it in the projector room. The plan was to make fun of it and have a laugh, but we didn’t even do that because honestly there’s nothing to really make fun. There’s only so many times you can take the piss out of the CGI and honestly the film was just boring more than anything else. It doesn’t even have the distinction of being so bad it’s good like Sharknado or Tommy Wiseau’s The Room. It’s just bad, period.

I just hope we don’t see something similar happen to Starlight Express. Just think. Anthropomorphic, singing trains on roller skates. Shudder.

Star Wars: The Rise Of Skywalker

Finally we have yet another cynical cash grab from Disney.

I confess I didn’t exactly go into The Rise Of Skywalker with an open mind. I was never all that keen on a sequel trilogy in the first place, and neither The Force Awakens nor The Last Jedi ever convinced me otherwise. Admittedly they weren’t bad movies. Just derivative and painfully uninspired, and I was expecting more of the same for Episode IX. What I got instead was quite possibly the worst Star Wars film since Attack Of The Clones. Yes, it’s that bad.

This film is very poorly made, filled with plot contrivances and logic holes galore. I lost count of the number of times the protagonists got into a dangerous situation because of Rey constantly wandering off like a confused toddler lost in a shopping mall. Oh and we finally find out who her parents were and it was quite a twist, but only because it was really stupid. Of course we didn’t see it coming because nobody would have guessed it would be something that moronic. I feel JJ Abrams’ stupid ‘mystery box’ philosophy is to blame for this. It’s derailed countless franchises before such as Lost and Cloverfield, and now Abrams has fucked up Star Wars because he’s obsessed with mystery for the sake of mystery and Disney are so lazy that they couldn’t be bothered to plan an actual trilogy out properly beforehand. Instead they just wing it, making it up as they go along, which led to Rian Johnson ‘subverting our expectations’ and left Abrams desperately trying to pick up the pieces. 

In fact a lot of The Rise Of Skywalker seemed designed specifically to appease people of both sides of the wide chasm The Last Jedi had created. The roles of characters of colour like Finn and Rose were significantly reduced, Poe and Finn don’t end up together because of homophobia, but we do see two women kiss in the background of one two second shot that could easily be cut out when they release the film in China, Kylo Ren gets his stupid redemption even though he hasn’t fucking earned it, Lando Calrissian shows up for no fucking reason, Rey is given ‘flaws’ relating to her parentage in order to combat those accusing her of being a Mary Sue, but they’re the boring kind of flaws that don’t have any real impact on her character, and that ghastly ship Reylo is made canon even though it makes no sodding sense in the context of this movie, let alone the whole trilogy. They even go to the trouble of baiting us with a FinnRey romance before pulling the rug out from under us. Then, just to add insult to injury, the film retroactively ends up making the entire original trilogy completely pointless. All because Disney wanted more dollars to put in their Scrooge McDuck money bin.

The Rise Of Skywalker, and indeed the entire sequel trilogy, should serve as a cautionary tale against the dangers of hype and nostalgia. The reason The Force Awakens was successful wasn’t because it was a good movie (because lets be brutally honest here, it really fucking wasn’t). It was because it gave gullible Star Wars fans warm fuzzies because it reminded them of A New Hope whilst tempting them with the vague promise that things might get more interesting later on. And when that didn’t materialise, quelle surprise, the fanbase didn’t take it very well. I would love to think that this will serve as an important lesson for the future when people go and see Disney movies, but who am I kidding? I guarantee at some point we’re going to get Episodes X, XI and XII and we’ll have to go through this sorry process all over again.

So there we have it. The worst of 2019. May they rot forever in Satan’s rectum or wherever it is stories go to die. Tomorrow we’ll take a look at the other end of the spectrum. Yes it’s the Quill Seal Of Approval Awards! The best of the best! Who shall win? The suspense is killing me! Ooooh, I can’t wait! You’ll be there tomorrow, won’t you? Of course you will. How could you not?

[magioftheseas]

Day 1 - Reserve

Written for @the-hinata-project 

Prompt: Reserve Course Student Hinata

Rating: G

Warnings: Lowkey manipulation and insecurity, but other than that, not much.

Notes: Alright, so I’m still in the middle of these, but like... Here’s the first one! They’re all going to be pretty short, around 2K but I’m gonna do my best to finish all of them so wish me luck...! And this first fic is gen. No ships. Next ones won’t be so gen. It’s also pre-HPA. Kind of.

***Alternate Ao3 Link***

Commission? Donate?

The last wish he made on New Year’s was a simple one.

I want to get into Hope’s Peak.

But of course that  would never happen.

“Can’t you dream more realistically, Hajime? Do you have any idea how expensive Hope’s Peak actually is? We can’t afford that.”

“I... I know that, but...”

“If you know then why are you burdening us with this? Please. Just think about other people besides yourself for once.”

“...sorry.”

His mother sighs, but ruffles his hair in a show of affection.

“You current high school isn’t so bad, right? You can make good friends here, and it’s a fine school.”

“I guess it’s...decent,” he mumbles.

“Just don’t even worry about Hope’s Peak anymore,” she tells him. “It’s impossible, and it can’t be helped. Keep your chin up. Okay?”

“...fine...”

Because he knew, after all, that she had a point. They couldn’t afford it. And he wasn’t talented. It was a pipe dream to attend. Nothing more. Nothing less.

Still...

--

For his birthday, he was given a new laptop to replace the old. It was a fairly recent model. Pretty expensive. Likely compensation. He can’t say he didn’t like it.

He wasn’t ungrateful. He doesn’t think so.

It’s just that I admire Hope’s Peak more than anything.

So much so that he finds himself on the forums first thing.

>Does anyone have any idea who’s going to be in the upcoming batch?

>They haven’t finished scouting, right? Oh, but I just saw on the news that an actual princess was accepted! Hope’s Peak really can get in anyone!

>Wow, actual royalty?!

>There’s this photographer I follow. She’s getting in, too, I’m pretty sure.

>I just saw Saionji Hiyoko-san’s performance last week. I’m positive she’s getting in.

>I’m more interested in the princess. Can you imagine how lucky it would be to meet an actual princess?

>>They’ll be running the lottery in a month or so. What I would give to have more of a chance...

>Wow, they’re doing that again?

>With how much getting into the reserve course costs, you probably have a better chance with the lottery...

>But if you win the lottery, you’re actually considered talented. Reserves are just...y’know, reserves.

>But you’ll get to meet the princess, potentially. I think the money’s worth it, even if all I can do is steal a glance!

>Still... Seems so lame that you can just pay your way in...

>But brand name recognition is pretty powerful...

>>I heard you can actually get into the main course from the reserve course if you do well enough.

>No way! That’s a pipe dream! Maybe if you paid like, twice as much!

>Must be nice to be rich, huh...

Hinata stares, wondering what to type, but also letting the thoughts swirl around in his head.

>>I would do anything to get into Hope’s Peak. But my family just can’t afford that.

>Yeah, mine neither. Who actually can?

>You’d be surprised... They’re getting a lot of enrollments.

>You can’t like...get a scholarship or anything? It’s not like you need to go to college after attending Hope’s Peak.

>Well the golden gates can’t open that wide, I suppose...

>It’s for the best. If just about anyone could get in, it wouldn’t be that special.

Hinata bites his lip, picking at the peeling skin with his teeth.

>>Still. I want to get in more than anything.

>If you aren’t talented, it can’t be helped.

>>I would give anything.

>Pffft. No kidding. I’d give an arm and a leg, probably.

>>I would give anything.

>A lot of people would.

>You’re like a super fan, huh. Well, I am, too, but still...

>>Getting into Hope’s Peak has always been my dream.

>Everyone wants to be special, man.

>But if everyone was special then no one would be special.

>It can’t be helped. You’re either born talented or you aren’t.

>Right?! I must have spent hours drawing but there was always that one person I could just never compare to. It’s hopeless!

>You shouldn’t say hopeless on the Hope’s Peak forums!

>Haha, sorry!

>>I’ve never been talented. There’s not one thing I’m particularly good at.

>Normie...

>>But I want to get into Hope’s Peak Academy... More than anything.

>Give it up. For your own good. Wishing for the impossible isn’t healthy.

>Hey, don’t tell him that! What if he ends up winning the lottery?

>Yeah, right!

>>I’m not particularly lucky, either.

>Luck’s not a talent anyway.

>Are you sure? I’ve known people who get ridiculously lucky while gambling...

>If they gamble too much, that luck’s bound to run out. And I bet they’re not that lucky, they just brag a lot.

>That might be true... Still it would be nice just to get into Hope’s Peak by chance...

>Whoever wins that lottery probably is ridiculously lucky considering how many people are participating. We’re talking like, every high school student in their first year in the country.

>Sucks to be other countries, huh.

>Maybe someday but for now, I like not having that much competition.

>Still a ridiculous amount competing...

>I bet it’ll be someone who can afford the reserve course if they haven’t already enrolled.

>No fair! That kind of thing should disqualify you immediately!

>>I just...want to get in...

>Yeah we all do. But it’s impossible.

>Impossible.

>Totally impossible.

>Pigs will fly first.

>I heard some Ultimates actually can make some crazy shit. We might see flying pigs pretty soon.

>That’s terrifying.

>>I just want to get in.

>You should get offline.

He should. He really, really should.

Is it really impossible?

“Of course it is,” he can practically hear them murmur. “Not only are you untalented, you can’t afford it! And you’re going to win the lottery, either!”

Hinata buries his face into his hands, shuddering.

I just... I just...

--

To his surprise, he later receives a DM. Shivering, he clicks it open.

>Would you really do anything for Hope’s Peak?

He doesn’t recognize the name of the sender but...it looks official.

>>Yes. Of course. Why?

>There actually is a program you can sign up for that will get you in without having to pay a coin.

Hinata blinked once. Twice.

It’s way too good to be true.

But he’s desperate. Beyond desperate.

>>What is this program? How can I sign up?

>Here’s the information.

--

What he’s about to do is how people get themselves abducted, he’s pretty sure. But right now, he’s desperate and... If it really was someone associated with Hope’s Peak, how bad can it be? What’s the worse than can happen?

I already have no chance getting in. I know that... But...

His heart was pounding as he took the train. He stared out the window, at HPA’s towering buildings in the distance, getting closer and closer, and he sucks in his breath.

It’s so shining that it hurts to look at.

Shining like a dream...

--

“Ah, Hinata-kun, you made it after all. So you have the necessary information?”

“Uh... Yes...” Truth be told, he didn’t understand most of it. There were a lot of words that were hard to read and pretty...advanced. “I just...well you said you couldn’t explain everything in just files, so...”

The other looked pretty professional. Sharply dressed and smiling in a way that at least seemed pretty welcoming. But...still pretty intimidating, considering the circumstances. Hinata ducked his head, feeling rather flustered.

“Yes, it’s meant to be kept very tightly under wraps, you see,” they laugh. “I need to assure confidentiality before explaining, Hinata-kun. Surely you understand.”

That’s...weird.

But it made his blood thrum with excitement to be a part of.

“I... Y-Yes, of course. Absolutely... Of course...”

“Sign this form, then, promising that.”

“O-Of course...!”

He scribbles down his signature without a second thought. The other smiled more, pleased. Hinata squirmed in his seat, and tried to keep his posture straight.

With that, the other sat across from him, polite and yet...expectant.

Ah... Hah...

“So you’re willing to do anything for this school,” they say, voice almost light but also dense with significance. “Might I ask why?”

“It’s...as I said on the forums,” Hinata mumbles, fiddling with his tie. Even dressed professionally for this would-be interview, he feels underdressed. “I’ve always admired this school. Always. It’s always been my dream to...to go there...”

The other nods, expression unchanged.

“And why do you wish so badly to go there, despite not having a talent that can be cultivated?”

Hinata flinched.

“T-That’s...! I...” He hesitates, but he soon finds the words just spilling out. “I just want to be someone I can be proud of. Someone who can stand tall. Be confident. Be significant. Isn’t that what I deserve?”

“Isn’t that what everyone deserves?”

Hinata’s nails dig into his palms.

“I admire Hope’s Peak...more than anyone. I will give whatever I can...and then more than that...if I have to.” His teeth grit. “Whatever it takes... W-Whatever it takes...!”

Even though I know it’s selfish and impossible, I just...!

He just wanted to be someone. Someone other than...this.

Unimportant. Unremarkable. A faceless, meaningless part of the mass. The idea of being consumed by mediocrity and insignificance for the rest of his life, never to matter, never to even be remembered, just to disappear, just like he never even existed—

“I’ll do...w-whatever...it takes...” He’s shaking, eyes wide and crazed. “Whatever it takes... Whatever I can...and then more than that...if I have to.”

“Ah. I see.” An easy smile. And yet, the atmosphere felt so heavy that it was near suffocating. “Very well then, Hinata-kun. That’s exactly the kind of attitude we’re looking for.”

Hinata lit up.

“R-Really?” He dares to let hope slip into his tone. “D-Do you really mean it?”

A nod.

“Hinata-kun... If you could be reborn from the faceless body of a miserable nobody into the world’s hope... Would you?”

“That...sounds too good to be true...” His heart really was racing, but he was flushed with excitement. “But... Y-Yeah... I... Of course...”

“Then, allow me to tell you about how that can be possible. If you agree, you’ll be accepted into the school, free of charge, no talent necessary. In fact, it’s even essential that you be talentless.”

I...don’t understand.

He doesn’t understand but it just sounds so incredible that he can’t help but be swayed.

“...tell me.”

“Very well.”

A folder of files is placed before him. They look too important to grasp. And the stamped out letters of CONFIDENTIAL stare back into his wide-eyed, shimmering gaze.

Fingers trembling, Hinata actually slices his finger open as he flips it open.

He doesn’t even feel the sting, as engrossed as he is in the text.

“I...”

The words swirl around in his head, over and over until he drowns in them.

“Do you need time to think about it?” the other asks him kindly. So kindly that Hinata is struck cold. “Tell you what... You can still get into the reserve course. You don’t have to say yes right away, and the deadline will be in a few months from now. You can attend classes here until then...and then make your decision on whether or not you’re willing to stay. Okay?”

“I... O-Okay.” Hinata swallows. “That’s... I’m okay with that.”

I said I’d do anything. And I do...want to do anything. But...

His hands are shaking while still gripping the files.

I can’t...let this chance slip by...even if it’s something like this. This is everything I ever wanted. Why am I even hesitating?

“It’s alright,” the other says reassuringly, taking the files away with ease. “Hinata-kun, I know you’ll make the best decision for yourself.”

For...myself. Myself...

“I...yes.”

“I’ll have them send in your acceptance letter and uniform.” His hand is shook, the grip warm and calloused. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Hinata-kun.”

“A-A pleasure... Yeah.”

Just like that, Hinata was stumbling out of Hope’s Peak, trembling and falling to pieces with every shaky step.

I have to do it, he can’t help but think. I have to do it, for...for myself...

This was going to be the year his life changed irreparably. He was sure of it.

[lausscribbles]

‘I’m a cute psycho killer, isn’t it obvious?’ x Dan Howell

yes, this is a halloween one shot, YES I KNOW IT’S ONLY SEPTEMBER LEAVE ME ALONE. anyway, enjoy xx (side note : Y/F/N = your friend’s name)

You never were a big fan of dress up parties, especially when they were Halloween themed. All the fake blood, open gushing wounds and other way too explicit make-up just made you nauseous. And all the people who decided to be an absolute douche and dress up as a killer clown, didn’t make it any better. But, you never had a choice when it came to whether you’d go or not go to a party. Your best friend, [Y/F/N], just knocked on your door, basically threw an outfit in your face, and dragged you along. (That was one of the reasons you always made sure your phone was on full battery in the evening in the weekends.) Tonight was yet another one of those nights. [Y/F/N] had texted you, saying she would be at your apartment in ten minutes to pick you up for some Halloween party somewhere on the other side of London. And now you had to improvise some sort of Halloween attire. Something that wasn’t too obvious, since you weren’t really about going all out with costumes. So you decided on wearing simple jeans, some boots and a shirt that had an embroidered text on it, saying ‘cute but psycho’. A small bow clip in your hair and some plastic knife with red stains made your outfit complete. But when you saw [Y/F/N]’s outfit, you immediately felt quit underdressed. ‘Oh, c’mon, [Y/N],’ she sighed, rolling her eyes that looked plain white because of the contacts she was wearing. ‘Couldn’t you try a little harder?’ I raised the knife I was holding in my hands, grinning sheepishly. ‘You know I’m not that into Halloween.’ I shrugged, and then looked, a bit disturbed, at the fake blood that covered half of [Y/F/N]’s face. ‘The only thing I like about it is that I can watch ‘Nightmare before Christmas’.’ ‘I really don’t get why we are friends,’ [Y/F/N] sighed, but then smiled, which looked really upsetting because of her ripped mouth. ‘Let’s just go, maybe I can convince you to get some fake blood here and there.’ ‘Not going to happen.’ You smiled at her, taking your phone and keys, and following her outside. You had no clue how someone got away with a house party in a London suburb, but they had made it happen. Loads of people were dressed from head to toe, fake blood was seen on almost every visible body part, and there was a wide range of creepy masks. And, of course, those damn killer clowns. You suddenly wished you had brought a real knife, just to feel a bit safer around the pale faced and red painted lips demons. And the pounding music that seemed to raise your heartbeat even more, didn’t quit help with the whole situation. So, you quickly followed [Y/F/N] inside, avoiding eye contact with everyone while clinging tightly onto your plastic knife, that felt really stupid compared to the really realistic looking torture instruments. Why couldn’t people just dress up as cats and pumpkins like in the good old days? The music only got louder as you got closer to the house, and it seemed almost unbearable once you were inside. But you couldn’t tell if it was really the music, or the nauseous making smell and creepy faces staring at you. (Or that was what they did in your imagination. In reality, they were all laughing, drinking, and dancing. An odd combination with the masks and make-up.) [Y/F/N] handed you a blue cup, smiling. ‘Drink up, I know how nervous you are. And don’t worry, I’m not drinking so we’ll get home safely.’ You smiled thankfully at her and took a careful sip, glad that it was one of your favorite drinks. ‘I’m going to say hi to some people, you’ll be okay?’ You just nodded and smiled again. You’d became pretty good at being alone at parties this big. But this was better than to tag alone with [Y/F/N] and have to go through all the awkward introductions. And she knew you preferred staying behind. With a quick wave, she disappeared in the crowd of dancing costumes. You found a good spot in the kitchen, right next to the snack table, where the music wasn’t too loud. And you didn’t seem to be the only person that was searching for company in food. He was awkwardly shoving a handful of crisps into his mouth, when you made eye contact. He looked to say at least horrified that I had ‘busted’ him, and wanted to say something, but when he opened up his mouth, half of the crisps fell out his mouth again. You tried really hard to not laugh at him, but it was kinda hard not to. ‘I’m sorry,’ you said, apologizing for laughing at his awkward moment. He quickly munched away at the remaining crisps, while walking over to you. ‘That’s okay. Guess we’re in this together huh?’ He grinned, pointing at his ‘outfit’. He was wearing a black jeans, along with a black, long sleeved shirt. ‘Are you dressed as an emo kid?’ You frowned, looking at his hair that clearly once used to be a fringe. ‘I guess,’ he shrugged. ‘And you are?’ ‘A cute psycho killer, duh.’ You said, dangerously swinging your plastic knife around, while pointing at your bow in your hair. ‘Obviously,’ he chuckled. ‘Hi, I’m Dan, the emo kid. And what is your name, cute psycho killer?’ ‘[Y/N],’ you smiled. ‘What’s your excuse for not wearing a costume?’ ‘Partly didn’t get the memo it was supposed to be a dress up kinda thing. Kinda played video games until the last minute and got too lazy to put on something else. You?’ Dan smiled, rolling up his sleeves ‘till they reached his elbows, leaving some left over crumbs of the crisps on his sleeves. ‘I don’t really like Halloween.’ ‘What?!’ Dan said, gasping dramatically. ‘But the Spooky Season is the best season! I’m sorry, but we really can’t be friends.’ ‘Spooky Season?’ You laughed. ‘That sounds way cuter than Halloween really is. I mean, look at the people around you. They all look like they are murdered, or are about to murder someone. That’s not spooky anymore. That’s straight up psycho.’ ‘Says the girl dressed as a ‘cute psycho’.’ Dan grinned, pointing at my bow. ‘Damn, you got me there.’ You laughed. ‘Anyway, if you hate Halloween, why are you here?’ ‘Because my best friend basically drags me to every party. I know what you’re thinking, what a cruel friend, but otherwise she’d go alone, so I’d rather go with her so at least I’m here if she does something stupid.’ ‘That’s actually really nice of you, … For a psycho killer.’ Dan added, laughing. You just roll your eyes and take a big sip of your drink. ‘It doesn’t look like you’re having the best time either.’ You raised an eyebrow at him, and quickly glanced at the dancing crowd, to see if [Y/F/N] had returned yet. ‘Once again, kinda in the same situation.’ Dan smiled, and then looked behind him when someone shouted his name. ‘It looks like my friend is ready to go. But hey, give me your number. Maybe I could convince you that Spooky Season in fact is very fun.’ ‘I’d doubt you could do that, Dan, but I’m willing to give you a chance.’ You laughed, motioning him to give you his phone so you could add your number. ‘I’ll text you,’ Dan said, winking and snapping his fingers at you, in an obvious ironically way, making you laugh. ‘Don’t kill to many people, cute psycho.’ ‘And you don’t cry too much over My Chemical Romance. Watch out, or I will play that one note.’ ‘Nice one,’ Dan laughed, going for another grab in the crisps bowl, waving with his other hand, while walking away. And of course, he stumbled against someone, spilling all the crisps on the floor. You chuckled, while he looked back at you, hoping as if you wouldn’t have seen it. He shrugged and then quickly walked out of the house. ‘Hey! You okay?’ [Y/F/N] stood suddenly in front of you, smiling. ‘Yeah, I’m okay.’ You smiled back at her. ‘What happened?’ She asked, looking suspiciously at you. ‘Nothing special.’ But you couldn’t stop smiling for some silly reason. And when you felt your phone violently vibrating in your pocket, that smile was there to stay. Maybe ‘Spooky Season’ wasn’t that bad after all. If you’d count out the creepy clowns, bloody make-up and masks, and kept in the awkward, tall, emo guys.

[dickie-gayson]

Hello! Request: one of the Batboys faking sick to get out of something (my first thought was a gala/party but anything you can come up with is fine). Bonus points if it spirals out of control a bit and everyone is worried so they're benched from patrol / forced to rest for several days.

Thank you for the request! Sorry for the wait, here it is! Idk which batboy you were hoping for but I chose Luke Fox bcus he never gets any love lmfao tho the others do pop up, specifically Jason and Tim.

Luke Fox hated galas. He hated damn near everything about them, from the boring music to the too-expensive food and the elitists and sycophants crawling all over the place. Bruce Wayne's galas? The Worst. There was never more an ostentatious and wasteful display of wealth than when Bruce decided to play up the 'Brucie Wayne' role. Luke knew Bruce hated galas just as much as he did and would much rather spend both his time and money on more useful endeavors, but he needed to keep the charade up. That was why Bruce was throwing some sort of event tonight. Luke was determined to get out of it.

Could any really blame him? He's had more than his fair share of galas growing up as the son of Lucius Fox, friend of Bruce Wayne himself. One would think the annoying patrons would overlook Luke in favor of Bruce, any of his wards, or Lucius, but one would be wrong. See, Luke was a world-famous boxer and mma fighter, not to mention an early graduate of MIT with double degrees. Anyone with working eyes and even half a brain cell could see the potential in the man. So, they all but attacked him with fervor only found in those looking to climb the social ladder and elevate their status. He hated that.

It was a real test of self-control not to knock them all out. Luke doubted Lucius or Bruce would appreciate that. Or Gordon, come to think of it. After all, Luke technically was considered a living weapon due to his extensive, and public, physical training. Hell, Alfred might even be disappointed, and that was something he couldn't stand to do to the aging butler. So, instead of resorting to suplexing someone through a table as he would like to, he figured he'd just not go. Only problem was, his father was expecting him to be there. His father and the various members of the bat-clan who were also forced into going to the hellish event. So, Luke would have to get crafty.

Coming up with a plan was simple enough. He'd just fake sick. Executing that plan was trickier, given the fact that he was surrounded by fucking super-geniuses and detectives. Luke was betting none of the other bats and birds were going to let him off the hook so easily. If one suffered, they were all suffering. He could think of it as a sort of training exercise. If he could fool them, then he was doing great. If he failed? Well, he'd be in for some shit. But hey, the reward outweighed the risk in this case.

Tampering with the thermometer was childs play. When it was to be used, it'd display a temperature between 100.3 to 101.4; sick but not hospital-worthy. The fluctuation in temperatures helped keep the act realistic. He made up a list of symptoms to keep him down and out without being too worrying. Once they all left, he was homefree. It was just a matter of making it all believable. His only real godsend was that he didn't spend too much time around the others for them to know how he acted when ill.

As the time ticked closer to the gala, he knew it was time to get the show on the road. Luke laid on his couch, just in case someone decided to spring through his window because no one knew how to use the damn door. He was forced to get up, however, when there was a knock on his door. With a drawn out groan, the hero shuffled his way to the door, already getting into the role.

When he swung the door open, he was met with the site of his father, dressed to the nines, and staring at him critically. That was definitely unnerving. The Bats weren't the only geniuses. Lucius was quick as a whip and observant as all hell. Not to mention, he raised Luke. Tricking him was a feat. A feat he's completed before, but a feat nonetheless.

"And why aren't you ready for the gala? Don't tell me, you're sick."

The arch of his brow and deadpan stare Luke was getting let him know just how little he was fooling his father. Well, he better amp up his game then. He's fought harder fights than this. Luke made sure to make it seem as if he were shivering despite the warm temperature. He swallowed thickly then winced as if in pain. When he spoke, he tried to make it scratchy and quiet to really sell the whole 'sore throat' bit. Damn, maybe he should have went to Juliard, he was a natural.

"Yeah, sorry dad. I woulda called but I was sleeping. This is one hell of a bug, I don't wanna get you sick."

Lucius just made a low 'mhm' sound as he looked Luke over head-to-toe. The hero kept his posture somewhat hunched. Before his father could interrogate him, Tim appeared next to the older man, dressed to impress. He too looked over the clearly underdressed vigilante with intense scrutiny. There was a sharp look in his blue eyes that said he was not letting Luke get away if he was lying. That made Luke gulp, but for an entirely different reason than faking a sore throat.

"Sick?"

Luke gave an affirmative noise, not wanting to talk more than necessary. Sometimes less was better and all that jazz. That dissecting look only intensified as Tim took in his posture, rumpled pajamas, and 'shivering'. The senior hero gave him an almost cocky tilt of the head as he spoke.

"We should take your temperature, just to be sure it's not too severe."

'Check and mate.' Luke moved slightly to let them into his apartment. Tim made a beeline for his medicine cabinet. The fact that he didn't need to tell Tim where his medical equipment was kept was only moderately unsettling. Luke shifted and then shuddered. To say he was nervous was an understatement. Fooling both Lucius and Tim would be worthy of a damn trophy in his opinion. Only a moment later, Tim was back, thermometer in hand.

It was the moment of truth as he stuck the thermometer in Luke's mouth. What Luke didn't count on was Tim checking his pulse as he waited for the readout on his temperature. Well, shit, that wasn't part of his plan. Tim only made an ambiguous hum before taking the thermometer and reading it.

"101.2, slightly elevated heart rate, a mild cold sweat. Alright, I guess you can sit this out."

Tim gave him another critical stare. Huh, for once his nervousness actually helped him out. No one pointed out that Tim was technically the youngest in the room and Luke didn't need to take orders from him. Luke could pay respect where respect was due, and Tim definitely earned it. Not to mention, he clocked more hero-time than Luke, giving him seniority in that field. Instead, he just gave a grunt.

"Great, thanks. Can I go back to sleep now?"

Both Lucius and Tim looked him over, as if searching for any hint that he was lying. Really, Luke couldn't blame them. One of them was always looking to get out of these events. It was like a competition to see who could bust the most and drag them to suffer with the rest. The two shared a silent look before saying their goodbyes. He gave them weak goodbyes as he made his way to his bedroom. It'd be at least half an hour before he was in the clear. No doubt someone was perched outside, watching like a creep, waiting for him to slip up by going about normally.

So, he laid down and mentally reviewed the new upgrades to his Batwing suit. In his personal opinion, the Batwing suit was sick as hell. Tights were not his thing, thank you. When he was relatively confident everyone else was gone, he got up, ready to have some actual fun.

 To say the night sucked would an understatement and a half. Dick had to separate Damian from the guests three times to keep him from making any of them cry. Jason was hiding in the study after he stole a full tray of hors d'oeuvres and two bottles of champagne for himself. He already made one person leave after 'accidentally' spilling a glass on their suit. Okay, maybe it was two glasses. Or three. Really, who keeps count of that sort of thing? The asshole deserved it, the way he ogled Cass. She was busy charming the socialites with her graceful way on the dancefloor, so Jason decided to defend her honor without actually shooting anyone.

Tim arrived at least thirty minutes late with a look on his face that said 'I would rather be in a ditch somewhere than here'. Maybe the guests were just idiots, because they definitely loved to flock him. Almost as much as they flocked to Dick, poor guy. If there was an award for most ass-grabs avoided, he'd win it, hands down. How he managed to laugh and act like he actually liked being there, none of them could fathom. They chalked it up to his natural showmanship, because he sure bitched about the event as much as the rest of them.

Steph and Harper got passes on the event as they weren't in the public spotlight like the others. Kate just straight up refused to come and no one wanted to try and force her otherwise. They liked their jaws intact. Jason was lucky and could get away with being seen as only a family friend. Sadly, there were too many pictures of him with the others not to be known to some degree. Duke seemed damn near overwhelmed in the crowded ballroom. This was certainly not something he was used to. Dick and Jason both remembered being in that position. None of the three were from any degree of wealth, so it was definitely a culture shock to some degree. Luke was nowhere to be found. According to Tim, he was out sick. The others called bullshit.

It was around the fourth hour when everything got even worse. Apparently Scarecrow and Poison Ivy decided to team up and combine their scientific minds to create a toxin to poison the citizens of Gotham with. Bruce figured one of the rogues would try and cause a problem that night. Why wouldn't they? Oracle was on standby, ready to call in the big guns in case things got too out of control. Thankfully, Batwoman, Spoiler, and Bluebird were on call and managed to control the situation before things got too crazy. Seeing as Jason had already snuck away, Red Hood managed to make an appearance in an attempt to help.

What made it particularly troublesome was the toxin. It presented itself as a fast-acting sickness akin to the flu. Only, it was highly communicable through the air as well as bodily fluids and if one attempted to take medication, it would react negatively, sending the victim into anaphylactic shock. It could cause serious damage or even death if handled improperly. Even worse, it caused vivid delusions and high energy in its most infectious stage, urging the host to run about and spread it further. This was going to be a long, long night. What none were expecting was the worried look Tim cast Bruce.

"Bruce, Luke was sick earlier. It's possible he was infected. Initial symptoms align with how the toxin presents itself in the early stages. Shakes, cold sweat, elevated pulse, lethargy, sore throat."

Well, that didn't sound good. As Bruce worked on an antidote to distribute, he sent Tim and Jason to swing by Luke's to see how he was now. It was still unknown if the host would turn volatile if confronted and it would be better to have back up against one of their own. Especially one of their own who was very well-known to punch really, really hard. The others were tasked with trying to quarantine the sick citizens and prevent further outbreak.

Tim made sure to wear a rebreather to prevent accidental infection. Jason had his helmet that naturally filtered the air he breathed. What they definitely didn't expect to see was Luke dancing around to Ariana Grande in nothing but his boxers, socks, and a button up shirt with a pair of sunglasses on. The two heroes paused in surprise as Luke continued to really get into the music. Jason made a mental note to add 'good dancer' to his hero biography. Who knows? It could come in handy. 'Good singer' could safely be left out, however. Without wasting any more time, they crept into the apartment to confront the man.

 Luke damn near had a heart attack when he turned around, mid-note, and noticed Jason and Tim in his apartment, staring at him. He made a mental note to ask Oracle to look over his security because what the fuck. He immediately resumed his sickly stature, even though it was way past obvious he was fine. What can he say? He's committed. It was the rebreather Tim was using that made him hesitate. Rebreathers usually meant bad stuff.

"Uh...I can explain?"

Instead of answering, Tim took out a small needle from his harness. They wanted to take a blood sample. Alright, something was definitely up. Jason edged toward him with caution. Both of their postures suggested they were waiting for an attack.

"Seriously, what's going on? Why do you have those masks?"

He was growing more and more nervous with each second. Jason finally spoke up.

"Ivy and Crane poisoned the city. You might have been infected."

Oh. That certainly explained things. Of all nights for Luke to fake sick, those two maniacs decide to attack like this. Great. He was going to get poked and prodded for hours now. Can't a guy enjoy music and dancing in his underwear anymore? Ariana Grande was his shit, and now he had to go to that dank, depressing cave because some people just can't let others live.

"Guys, listen, I'm fine. This? It was all a lie. I just didn't feel like going to the gala. If I was sick, I definitely wouldn't be dancing around."

He straightened his posture and took off the sunglasses. There was no trace of his 'illness' anymore. Neither Tim or Jason looked convinced. Instead, Tim shook his head slowly, clearly worried.

"Delusions and manic energy. We gotta get him to the cave, fast."

They both moved, ready to knock him out if necessary. Rather than having to deal with that massive headache, he just sighed in defeat. There was no way he'd be able to take Jason and Tim in a fight. Hell, he was in his underwear. Jason pulled a surgical looking mask from one of his many pockets and shoved it toward him. Luke just groaned in slight aggravation as he put it on.

"I'm telling you, I'm not sick."

Instead of responding, Tim radioed to someone, probably Bruce, that they were bringing him in. Jason stood at the ready. What, did they think he was going to go ballistic and try to murder them? He wasn't suicidal, thanks. At least they let him put on pants before they dragged him to his impending doom. Either they'd find out he lied to get out of the gala or they were convinced he was sick and dying. No matter which way Luke looked, he was royally screwed. The worst part was being forced to sit in the quarantine cell for fourteen hours while they ran test after test and worked on a cure for the city. It was somewhere around the eleventh hour that Luke developed a cough. He just groaned and let his head fall back against the wall. Well, this was great. Next time, he was just going to go to the damn gala and let someone else lie.

[simplyoriginalcharacters]

KORNELIUS "NILS" HENRIK HOPPE

Dear SOC team, thank you for re-opening the floodgates :) I’m looking forward to seeing all kinds of characters on my dash again! I’m still working on my Zoomorphism Counter-Curse task force, and I would like to submit another member - the viewpoint character, I thought, but currently I’m not so sure. He might have to share. Please help me figure out if there are any dangling questions and missed opportunities with this character!

(Full profile and critique under the cut! -K)

APPEARANCE

Nils is in his late twenties, tall but gangly, filled with nervous energy. His gesturing hands and pointy elbows sometimes seem not quite under his control. He makes up for that with freakishly quick reflexes - if he elbows a mug off the table, most of the time he will catch it before it shatters.

His skin is pasty with a greenish tinge when he’s sleep-deprived or under the weather, and oddly placed freckles. He wears his mop of curly blond hair short around the ears and longer on top, and he fiddles with it constantly. His other noticeable nervous gesture is popping his joints, to fill sudden silences. His fingers are long, with pronounced joints, and his palms are always a little cool and clammy. His face is mobile and expressive, with a wide mouth made for smiling. He licks his lips a lot when he’s preoccupied, they’re always a little raw. His eyes are muddy green, like the sun seen from the bottom of a pond.

Nils has an adolescent’s aversion to anything resembling formal clothing. In summer he’s usually in jeans, t-shirts and sneakers, and he favors cheap sunglasses. In winter, he tends to underdress and shiver in the thin jacket he thought would look cool going out. He is the one who will complain about the Kevlar vests, he hates to have his movements restricted.

PERSONALITY & SOCIAL INTERACTIONS

Nils is cheerful and enthusiastic, loud and hard to overlook. He talks a lot, sometimes to himself. He would like to be cooler than he is, and he thrives under attention. He needs to be seen, he’d rather be screamed at than ignored.

His core strength is that he genuinely cares about people, which endears him to them despite his brashness. It’s also what makes him a good detective. He is intuitive and good at recognizing patterns and connecting the dots but he tends to overlook details. He has a competitive streak and a strong sense of right and wrong, which often leads him to make quick judgement calls. He has trouble submitting to authority. Emotions cloud his better judgement and he abhors anything that smacks of victim blaming.

In a social setting, he wants everyone around him to feel comfortable and included. He can be a surprisingly good listener but he isn’t great at keeping secrets. Recognition means a lot to him. He doesn’t quite know how to accept affection gracefully but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t appreciate it. He has a nerdy sense of humor; he likes puns, history jokes and useless facts.

He avoids physical confrontations if at all possible - his hindbrain still recalls being tiny and squishable. The trouble is that he gets mouthy and provocative when he feels defensive. How he reacts to pain is directly proportional to how cool he looked while getting hurt. Another remnant of his time as a frog is an irrational fear of snakes and, to a lesser extent, storks. Digs at his past get to him, as hard as he tries to rise above them. His unhealthy love for gummi worms does not help at all.

DAY-TO-DAY LIFE

JOB:

Nils is a detective on the newly founded Zoomorphism Task Force. He leads investigations, interviews suspects and witnesses, and gathers evidence for arrests and convictions.

He became a police officer because he knows how a curse takes years off your life. He wants to get the victims justice, and he enjoys the puzzle-solving aspect of his job. He prefers the more exciting parts of police work and puts off the dry, repetitive tasks as long as possible. Despite moments of immaturity, insolence, and a tendency to be late he is a good detective.

HOME:

He lives on the first floor of a four-floor apartment building in the inner city, in a spacious flat he could never afford on his own. He enjoys the short commute and the high-end consumer electronics his flat mate likes to splurge on, though his bedroom is furnished with focus on comfort, rather than design. He’s quite content with his MALM bed and PAX closet. What he likes best is coming home to another person instead of empty silence. He has befriended most of their neighbors, especially their old landlady on the ground floor. Without him Esben, with his frequent complaints and odd hours, would have been kicked out many times over.

HOBBIES:

He needs people and conversation and social validation to unwind. He likes pubs, the more intimate and grubbier the better, and he is the one who drags his colleagues out for a drink after a case.

To burn off nervous energy he used to play fast-paced video games. In the police academy, he started running instead. He takes part in the Stockholm Marathon every year and finishes comfortably in the middle third.

During his reoccurring bouts of insomnia he reads trivia blogs, makes ill-considered internet purchases and marathons TV shows - comedies, classic American action-adventure series, and anything with robots. He believes that the technological singularity is approaching, and he has claimed naming rights for any household electronics ‘that look like they might have a soul’.

BACKSTORY

Nils was the child of an affair his barely-of-age mother had with a married man. By the time he was ten she had almost entirely disappeared from his life, leaving him to grow up with his grandparents. They did their best but they had become parents quite late in life, and especially his grandfather was in fragile health. Nils was energetic, resourceful and a trouble-maker, he did not deal well with their need for peace and quiet. He constantly challenged authority, until he sassed the wrong teacher - and ended up as a frog.

That time blurs in his memory. He very clearly remembers the day he met a girl in a large, lily-covered garden pond. Instinct made him crawl into her hair while she swam, and when she got to her room and discovered him, she threw him against a wall in disgust. His curse broke. He was sixteen, newly human, his head hurt and he had never seen anyone so beautiful. He fell instantly in love.

She didn’t, she screamed for her parents. The van Steegs were kind, they took him in until he got his life back on track, but Lily kept avoiding him. In the end, he was very gently advised to give up on their daughter and move out.

Nils threw himself into the student life in Stockholm. It took him five semesters to tire of living from party to party. He applied for the Police Academy twice before he got in, and his experience with a zoomorphism curse was a consideration. He got assigned to the Spellcraft Crime Authority almost straight out of training.

He tried to file charges against the witch but nothing stuck. (Prosecution of such crimes is still in the fledgling stages.)

RELATIONSHIPS

FAMILY:

Nils’ relationship with his grandparents is strained. The older generation still tends to think curses educational, and to a certain extent, they seem to believe he deserved what happened to him. Recently, they moved to an assisted living facility. Nils phones them sporadically. Sometimes, they have news about his mother - she lives abroad, she seems to have found some stability at last. He doesn’t really care to know. He never got to meet his biological father.

He did not keep in contact with the van Steegs, he thought they might prefer it this way, but he sometimes wishes he could have.

FRIENDS:

Nils makes friends easily but after the curse, he had a very big secret to keep, and most friendships stayed superficial. He met Esben in a chatroom, drawn by someone who understood and shared his experiences. After the van Steegs, Esben was the first person he told his whole story. They met in real life because Nils insisted after weeks of chatting that they needed to go out for beers like normal blokes, a concept that put off and fascinated Esben in equal measure. They got roaring drunk together, and decided Nils should move into the huge, half-empty flat Esben was financing with his father’s guilt-money. Despite their glaring differences they cohabitate well: Esben is quiet and keeps to himself, Nils is laid-back and accepting. At work, they balance each other.

RELATIONSHIP STATUS:

Single. He tried dating, quite aggressively when he first moved to the city and a little less desperately and with more success a few years later. Nothing ever went anywhere – he is still hung up on Lily, probably always will be. It might be because she’s his curse-breaker, or he’s just unluckier than most. Since she took over the task force, he tries not to let it interfere with his work, with varying success.

Hello again! I'm really psyched to see another character from this story in my inbox - I think I've mentioned this before, but there's nothing I love more than fairy tales when it comes to fiction, and I'm really fascinated by the way you're using and rewriting them. Let's get to it!

One of the things I genuinely enjoy about your characters is how realistic they are. There are a ton of details in this profile, much like in the profiles you submitted for Esben and Felice, but they all fit together beautifully to paint a picture of the kind of person Nils is. In this specific profile, I really do get the sense that Nils is the sort of person who never quite made it out of adolescence, but is doing his best anyway. He comes off as a bit of a "class clown with a heart of gold" type, and I dig that. I'm interested to see how his flaws might impact your story!

Something I definitely want to touch on is how brief and vague Nils's backstory is in comparison to Esben's and Felice's. If this is going to be your viewpoint character, you're going to want to work on the connections between his backstory and his personality. Where we've been always affects how we make decisions going forward in our lives. One specific place I'd like to see you put work in is Nils's craving for validation from others. Where does that come from? Does it go back to his mother's neglect? To his grandparents not being able to keep up with him? To Lily? Additionally, while you mentioned that older generations see curses as a viable method of teaching a lesson to people, I'm not sure Nils really learned much from his time as a frog. It doesn't seem to have had a huge impact on his personality, other than making him averse to violence and conflict. I'd really like to see some more thought on that incorporated into this profile, too. Tell me more about how Nils became, well, Nils.

That'll help you out with my next point, too. I'm not getting a good sense of where Nils's story is going. It almost feels like his story is over after reading this profile, and that makes it hard for me to imagine him as the viewpoint character. I'd like to get a better sense of where Nils is going, developmentally, or of where you'd like to see him go. Right now I'm not sure what the plot of his arc is, but I'm at least curious about it, so you're going in the right direction.

Lastly, let's talk about Lily. She's mentioned briefly a few times in this profile, but I'm not getting nearly enough of a sense of her to justify how important she still is to Nils. We know that she broke Nils's curse (by throwing him against a wall - was that a reflex? Was it deliberate?) and that he thinks she's beautiful; we know that she avoided him while he was living with her family. And...that's it. I'd like to see more about whether Nils tried to woo her and how she responded, and whether he ever has conflicting feelings about her treatment of him. Unrequited love can be interesting, but you've got to find the emotional hooks in it to really get it to tug at peoples' heartstrings - and in this case, I need to see how it's affecting Nils's decisions and impacting his story.

Looking at this profile as-is, right now I'm not sure that Nils is a viewpoint character. He feels like a side character to me. This is another solid profile, but it does need some work compared to the other profiles I've seen from you already, especially if you want to tell your story through Nils's eyes. Because I have seen your work before, though, I'm confident that you'll put in the effort and bring Nils up to scratch. He has a ton of potential - he just needs a little spit and polish to bring it out more fully! As always, if you'd like to revise Nils and send him in for another round, or if you have any more characters from this story you'd like to see critiqued, I'd be delighted. For now, good luck, and I hope this helps!

-Kyo