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jewelleria · 6 months

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I don’t usually talk about politics on here, if ever. But it’s been almost six months since the conflict in the Middle East flared up again, and I’m finally ready to start. Here are some of my thoughts.

I say ‘flared up’ because this has happened before and it’ll happen again. Because, even though what's currently going on is absolutely unprecedented, those of us who live in this part of the world are used to it. Let that sink in: we are used to this. And we shouldn’t have to be.

But I use that term for another reason: I don't want to accidentally call it the wrong thing lest I come under fire for being a genocidal maniac or a terrorist or a propaganda machine, etc., etc.—so let’s just call it ‘the war’ or ‘the conflict.’ Because that’s what it is. Doesn’t matter which side you’re on, who you love, or who you hate.

This post will, in all likelihood, sit in my drafts forever. If it does get posted, it certainly won’t be on my main, because I'm scared of being harassed (spoiler: she posted it on her main). I hate admitting that, but honestly? I’m fucking terrified.

I also feel like in order for anything I say on here (i.e. the hellscape of the internet) to be taken seriously, I have to somehow prove that a) I’m “educated” enough to talk about the conflict, and b) that my opinion lines up with what has been deemed the correct one. So, tedious and unnecessary though it is, I will tell you about my experience, because I have a feeling most of the people reading this post are not nearly as close to what’s happening as I am.

How do I explain where I live without actually explaining where I live? How do I say “I live in the Red Zone of international conflicts” without saying what I actually think? How do I convey the fear that grips me when I try to decide between saying “I live in Palestine” and “I live in Israel”? I don't really know. But I do know that names are important. I also know that, due to the various clickbaity monikers ascribed to the conflict, it would probably just be easier to point to a map.

I haven't always lived in the Middle East. I've lived in various places along America’s east coast, and traveled all over the world. But in short, I now live somewhere inside the crudely-drawn purple circle.

If you know anything about these borders you probably blanched a bit in sympathy, or maybe condolence. But in truth, it’s a shockingly normal existence. I don't feel like I've lived through the shifting of international relations or a war or anything. I just kind of feel like I did when COVID hit, that dull sameness as I wondered if this would be the only world-altering event to shape my life, or if there would be more.

I've been told that, in order for my brain to process all the horrific details of the past six months, there needs to be some element of cognitive dissonance—that falling into a sort of dissociative mindset is the only way to not go insane under the weight of it all. I think in some ways that’s true. I have been terrifyingly close to bus stop shootings when my commute wasn’t over; I have felt my apartment building shake with the reverberations of a missile strike; I have spent hours in underground shelters waiting for air raid sirens to stop.

But. I have also gone grocery shopping, and skipped class, and stayed up too late watching TV, and fed the cats on the street corner, and cried over a boy, and got myself AirPods just because, and taken out the trash, and done laundry on a delicate cycle, and bought overpriced lattes one too many days a week. I have looked at pretty things and taken out my phone because, despite it all, I still think that life is too short not to freeze the small moments.

So I'd say, all things considered, I live an incredibly privileged life—compared, of course, to those suffering in Gaza—one filled with sunsets and over-sweetened knafeh and every different color of sand. One that allows me to throw myself into a fandom-induced hyperfixation (or, alternatively, escape method) as I sit on the couch and crack open my laptop to write the next chapter of the fic I'm working on.

But there are bits of not-normalness that wheedle their way through the cracks. I pretend these moments are avoidable, even if they’re not.

They look like this: reading the news and seeing another idiotic, careless choice on Netanyahu’s part and groaning into my morning coffee. Watching Palestinian and Jewish children’s needless suffering posted on Instagram reels and feeling helpless. Opening my Tumblr DMs to find a message telling me to exterminate myself for reblogging a post that only seems like it’s about the war if you squint and tilt your head sideways.

These moments look like all the tiny ways I am reminded that I'm living in a post-October seventh world, where hearing a car backfire makes me jump out of my skin and the sound of a suitcase on pavement makes me look up at the sky and search for the war planes. They look like the heavy grief that is, and also isn’t, mine.

Here's the thing, though. I know you’re wondering when the ball will drop and my true opinion will be revealed. I know you’re waiting for me to reveal what demographic I'm a part of so that you, dear reader, can neatly slap a label on my head and sort me into some oversimplified category that lets you continue to think you understand this war.

No one wants to sit and ruminate on the difficult questions, the ones that make you wonder if maybe you’ve been tinkered with by the propaganda machine, if you might need to go back on what you’ve said or change your mind. We all strive for our perception of complicated issues to be a comfortable one.

But I know that no matter what I do, there will always be assumptions. So, while I shudder to reveal this information online, I think that maybe my most significant contribution to this meta-discussion spanning every facet of the internet is this:

I am a Jew.

Or, alternatively, I am: Jewish, יהודית, يَهُودِيٌّ, etc. Point is, I come from Jews. And, like any given person, I am a product of generation after generation of love.

I'm not going to take time to explain my heritage to you, or to prove that before all the expulsions and pogroms, there was an origin point. If you don’t believe that, perhaps it’s less of a factual problem and more of an ‘I don’t give weight to the beliefs of indigenous people’ problem. But, in case you want to spend time uselessly refuting this tiny point in a larger argument, you can inspect the photos below (it’s just a small chunk of my DNA test results). Alternatively, you can remember that interrogating someone in an attempt to make their indigeneity match your arbitrary criteria is generally not seen as good manners.

Now, let’s go back to thathateful message (read: poorly disguised death threat) I received in my Tumblr DMs. I think it was like two or three weeks ago. I had recently gained a new follower whose blog’s primary focus was the fandom I contribute to, so I followed them back. I saw in my notes that they were going through my posts and liking them—as one does when gaining a new mutual. Yippee!

Then they sent me this:

I tried to explain that hate speech is not a way to go about participating in political discourse, but the person had already blocked me immediately after sending that message. Then, assured by the fact that I surely would never see them complaining about me on their blog (because, as I said, they blocked me), they posted a shouting rant accusing me of sympathizing with colonizing settlers and declaring me a “racist Zionist fuck.” Oh, the wonders of incognito tabs.

Where this person drew these conclusions after reading my (reblogged) post about antisemitism…. I'm not actually sure. But I greatly sympathize with them, and hope that they weren’t too personally offended by my desire to not die.

For a while I contemplated this experience in my righteous anger, and tried to figure out a way to message this person. I wanted to explain that a) seeing a post about being Jewish and choosing to harass the creator about Israel is literally the definition of antisemitism and b) that sending a hateful DM and refusing to be held accountable is just childish and immature. But I gave up soon after—because, honestly, I knew it wasn’t worth my effort or energy. And I knew that I wouldn't be able to change their mind.

But I still remember staring at that rather unfortunate meme, accompanied by an all-caps message demanding for me to Free Palestine, and thinking: the post didn’t even have any buzzwords. I remember the swoop of dread and guilt and fear. I remember wondering why this kind of antisemitism felt worse, in that moment, than the kind that leaves bodies in its wake.

I remember thinking, I don’t have the power to free anyone.

I remember thinking, I’m so fucking tired.

And before you tell me that this conflict isn’t about religion—let me ask you some questions. Why is it that Israel is even called Israel? (Here’s why.) Why do Jews even want it? (Here’s why.) But also, if you actually read the charters of Islamist terrorist organizations like ISIS, Hamas, and Hezbollah (among others), they equate the modern state of Israel with the Jewish people, and they use the two entities interchangeably. So of course this conflict is religious. It’s never been anything but that.

But I do wonder, when faced with those who deny this fact: how do I prove, through an endless slew of what-about-isms and victim blaming, that I too am hurting? How do I show that empathy is dialectical, that I can care deeply for Palestinians and Gazans while also grieving my own people?

There's this thing that humans do, when we’re frustrated about politics and need to howl our opinions about it into the void until we feel better. We find like-minded souls, usually our friends and neighbors, and fret about the state of the world to each other until we’ve gone around in a satisfactory amount of circles. But these conversations never truly accomplish anything. They’re just a substitute, a stand-in catharsis, for what we really wish we could do: find someone who embodies the spirit of every Jew-hating internet troll, every ignorant justifier of terrorism, and scream ourselves hoarse at them until we change their mind.

But, of course, minds cannot be changed when they are determined to live in a state of irrational dislike. In Judaism, this way of thinking has a name: שנאת חינם (sinat hinam), or baseless hatred. It's a parasite with no definite cure, and it makes people bend over backwards to justify things like the massacre on October seventh, simply because the blame always needs to be placed on the Jews.

So when a Jew is faced with this unsolvable problem, there is only one response to be had, only one feeling to be felt: anger. And we are angry. Carrying around rage with nowhere to put it is exhausting. It's like a weight at the base of our neck that pushes down on our spine, bending it until we will inevitably snap under the pressure. I’m still waiting to break, even now.

I wish I could explain to someone who needs to hear it that terrorism against Israelis happens every single day here, and that we are never more than one degree of separation away from the brutal slaughter of a friend, lover, parent, sibling. I wish it would be enough to say that the majority of Israelis (which includes Arab-Israeli citizens who have the exact same rights as Jewish-Israelis) wish for peace every day without ever having seen what it looks like.

I wish I could show the world that Israel was founded as a socialist state, that it was built on communal values and born from a cluster of kibbutzim (small farming communities based on collective responsibility), and that what it is now isn’t what its people stand for.

I wish the world could open their eyes to what we Israelis have seen since the beginning: that Hamas is the enemy, Hamas is the one starving Palestinians and denying them aid, Hamas is the one who keeps rejecting ceasefire terms and denying their citizens basic human rights. Hamas is the governing body of Gaza, not Israel. Hamas is responsible for the wellbeing of the Palestinian people. And Hamas are the ones who are more determined to murder Jews—over and over and over again, in the most animalistic ways possible—than to look inwards and see the suffering they’ve inflicted on their own people. I wish it was easier to see that.

But the wishing, the asking how can people be so blind, is never enough. I can never just say, I promise I don't want war.

When I bear witness to this baseless hatred, I think of the victims of October seventh. I think of the women and girls who were raped and then murdered, forever unable to tell their stories. I think of the hostages, trapped underneath Gaza in dark tunnels, wondering if anyone will come for them. I think of Ori Ansbacher, of Ezra Schwartz, of Eyal, Gilad, and Naftali, of Lucy, Rina, and Maia Dee, of the Paley boys, of Ari Fuld and of Nachshon Wachsman. I think of all the innocent blood spilled because of terror-fueled hatred and the virus of antisemitism. I think of all the thousands of people who were brutally murdered in Israel, Jews and Muslims and Christians and humans, who will never see peace.

My ties to this land are knotted a thousand times over. Even when I leave, a part of me is left behind, waiting for me to claim it when I return. But when I see the grit it takes to live through this pain, when I see the suffering that paints the world the color of blood, I look to the heavens and I wonder why.

I ask God: is it worth all this? He doesn't answer. So I am the one, in the end, to answer my own question. I say, it has to be.

Feel free to send any genuine, respectful, and clarifying questions you may have to my inbox!

EDIT: just coming on here to say that I'm really touched & grateful for the love on this post. When I wrote it, I felt hopeless; I logged off of Tumblr for Shabbat, dreading the moment I would turn off my phone to find more hate in my inbox. Granted, I did find some, and responding to it was exhausting, but it wasn’t all hate. I read every kind reblog and comment, and the love was so much louder. Thank you, thank you, thank you. 🤍

Source Reading

The Whispered in Gaza Project by The Center for Peace Communications

Why Jews Cannot Stop Shaking Right Now by Dara Horn

Hamas Kidnapped My Father for Refusing to Be Their Puppet by Ala Mohammed Mushtaha

I Hope Someone Somewhere Is Being Kind to My Boy by Rachel Goldberg

The Struggle for Black Freedom Has Nothing to Do with Israel by Coleman Hughes

Israel Can Defend Itself and Uphold Its Values by The New York Times Editorial Board

There Is a Jewish Hope for Palestinian Liberation. It Must Survive by Peter Beinart

The Long Wait of the Hostages’ Families by Ruth Margalit

“By Any Means Necessary”: Hamas, Iran, and the Left by Armin Navabi

When People Tell You Who They Are, Believe Them by Bari Weiss

Hunger in Gaza: Blame Hamas, Not Israel by Yvette Miller

Benjamin Netanyahu Is Israel’s Worst Prime Minister Ever by Anshel Pfeffer

What Palestinians Really Think of Hamas by Amaney A. Jamal and Michael Robbins

The Decolonization Narrative Is Dangerous and False by Simon Sebag Montefiore

Understanding Hamas’s Genocidal Ideology by Bruce Hoffman

The Wisdom of Hamas by Matti Friedman

How the UN Discriminates Against Israel by Dina Rovner

This Muslim Israeli Woman Is the Future of the Middle East by The Free Press

Why Are Feminists Silent on Rape and Murder? by Bari Weiss

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f1crecs · 2 months

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Fic Rec List - Lando/Oscar (Part 2)

if your fic is on this list and you don’t want it to be, please let me know and we will remove it immediately, no questions asked. we have contacted most of the authors on this list, but sometimes people fall through the gaps - just pop us a message🤍

have a pairing you want us to do next? please read the faqs and then head to the inbox.

don’t forget to give the authors featured on this list some love in the form of kudos, bookmarks, and comments!

you can find part 1 here

nsfw: fly the ocean (in a silver plane) by @settsplitt | E | 2.6k Lando and Oscar are fighter jet pilots who share a room on base. Oscar doesn’t seem to think much about the risk of what they do, but it consumes Lando. This is an excellent character study and builds such a big world out of very brief moments. “Hot” and “existential worry” hold hands in a circle around this fic.

He’s practically fucking useless in the briefs and debriefs. He just feels his brain slipping away, to the sky and the seas and angels 10. He knows other people are noticing, but honestly, if they want him to be normal they should fucking put him back with Oscar. None of it matters, anyway, because Lando never has any control.

nsfw: Keep Talking by @wanderingblindly | E | 2.7k This is such a beautifully written fic! The trust and comfort here is really moving - it's a soft, syrupy sort of story, that unfolds beautifully. Love it!

With practiced hands, he slides his fingers into Lando’s curls and scratches lightly at his scalp. It shoots like lightning down Lando’s neck, ringing in his ears.

no proof, not much (but you saw enough) by @ipleadbritney | T | 3.5k Soulmates. Lando and Oscar are pulled aside by the FIA, suspected of an illegal soulbond. What I liked about it: The character voices in this story are absolutely spot on. It's Oscar's point of view and his anxiety about the situation underlying his calm demeanor is a delicate balance this author depicts beautifully.

“Yeah?” Oscar wonders which version of Lando he'll get. Will it be the one who's hyper focused on every tiny detail, including the curls of his hair? Will it be the one who's living proof why some kids deserve to be leashed? Or will it be the Lando who flirts as much as he breathes, one step away from launching his OnlyFans account?

nsfw: Reasons Why Lando Norris Might Be A Werewolf by @fenesacha | E | 3.9k Oscar, a werewolf, starts to notice small things about his teammate that may mean Lando is a werewolf too. (He's not.) What I like it: This fic is funny and breezy with great dialogue and an Oscar perfectly happy to shift gears and take it in stride when he realises Lando isn't a werewolf, but he is something else Oscar hadn't expected.

“Your dick comes off?” Oscar blurts out before he can stop himself. Lando stares at him like he’s stupid, which makes a change. “I don’t have a dick, Oscar. It’s a packer.” Right. Oscar’s not entirely sure what a packer is, but he’s got the gist of it all. “No dick. Okay. That’s cool.” “Is it?” “Yeah, mate.” Oscar’s not a bigot, he’s just having to mentally correct every fantasy he’s had for the past God-knows-how-many years. “You’re trans, then?” “Yeah, but it’s not common knowledge, so don’t go telling all your friends.” Lando turns his head so that he’s looking at Oscar, then frowns. “Wait, so you’re not trans?” “Uh, no?” “Huh, thought you were. You give off those vibes.”

worth the trouble (it was an honour) by @maaxverstappen | G | 4.6k Oscar and Lando started something, knowing it would end. It's all sweeter than it is bitter. I'm absolutely entranced by this fic. The emotion comes across so clearly, such a perfect, gentle bittersweet feeling. I don't re-read fics often, and this is one i've found myself returning to regularly.

They were always good at that, talking without words. Sometimes, and Oscar would never admit this, he would think cough twice if you hear this, being both surprised and relieved when Lando stayed quiet.

nsfw: you signed up for this by @strawberry-daiquiris | E | 6.9k This is a wonderful magical realism au where older!Oscar time travels back and teaches Oscar how to treat Lando properly. I think writing the same character twice and all that separates them is time gone by is so impressive. it really shows great writing skills and characterisation. The smut was obviously so well written but what I loved so dearly about this is how philosophical it was, so much growth for these characters within a single evening. A true must read for the landoscar community!!

He’s looking at himself, like some kind of fucked up mirror at a funfair. It’s him, but there are lines he doesn’t recognise, a heft to his upper body he can’t feel. His face looks older, and his teeth annoyingly, a little straighter. Oscar finds, to his horror, that this is him but hotter. Less hair though, at least there’s that. “Hello.” Not-him-but-him says, with a little wave and a sideways smile. Next to him, Lando giggles, and when Oscar turns to look at him he’s returning the wave, wiggling his fingers and letting the sheet he’d pulled up to his neck drop to right below his nipples. “Stop flirting with him!” Oscar exclaims, then reconsiders his point. “Or me. Or... alright, actually mate, who the fuck are you?”

force majeure by debrief | T | 7k Oscar and Lando get bodyswapped. The author absolutely nails the voices of both characters, Lando's chaotic way of speaking versus Oscar's more measured tone. Its largely constructed as a series of text messages until the last act, which is an inspired way of showing when a character is freaking out - Lando's messages in particular get more incoherent and full of typos when he's upset. The way they gradually draw toward one another as their situation isolates them (anyone else they confide in is erased from existence after), being one another's strength and comfort and support, is really beautiful to watch unfold.

craving for caprficns sn caprin sc capri sus suns capri suns and like so theyre usually on the lower shelf in ther corner i kown cause i alswasy get then here even tho theyre pricier priceri pricier and like they werent there and i double checked i asked the emploeye that was stocking the shelves in the next aisle and she sad said she dones t know what a capri usn is?? she even asked me if it was a zodiac sun zodiac sign shit i cant cry over caprin sun osc

nsfw: love along the way by @gaslybottoms | E | 10k AU, sex work/adult entertainment. Oscar is a videographer for an adult entertainment studio. Lando is one of the performers. Oscar sees Lando struggling emotionally after intense scenes and wants to help him. Lando, though, is very reluctant to accept it. This is a wonderful fic - Oscar is hurting so badly for Lando and is desperate to comfort him, but he can only be brushed off so many times before he gives up. He is so worried for Lando that he misses signs of distress in himself, which ends up bringing about a resolution to the situation in a way nobody (including me!) expected.

It’s cheesy. A line literally straight from a porno, and one Oscar has heard so many times over the last year or so. He shouldn’t find himself hating the way it sounds, curling around Jenson’s tongue as he chases his release. He’s not even a bad guy. Outside of filming, Oscar likes him. He’s always up for a laugh, and he makes an effort to get to know about all the people that work in the agency, not just the actors he’s supposed to do scenes with. He’s always supportive, offering advice from a mature point of view. And yet. Right now, Oscar can’t stand him. The way that he gets to take care of Lando in a way that Oscar can’t, because Lando doesn’t open up to him the same way. The way of telling Oscar how he feels, not how he might open up around Oscar’s -

the sun (in your eyes) by @wisteriagoesvroom | M | 11.3k Lando stumbles upon a flower shop. Oscar's flower shop, to be precise. This is a wonderful florist!Oscar au. What I love so dearly about this is that the author has taken the lyric/concept of "you don't have to say i love you to say i love you" and applied it to flower language. How creative and clever. I love how throughout this fic Oscar and Lando really become what the other person needs, they are always there for each other. All of it just feels so safe and comforting. The dialogue is witty and fun and the descriptions are really well rounded. And as the cherry on top, this was written For Me so its wonderfully perfect.

Home. Home is pine needles and Ribena and his first car and a return ticket to Heathrow and taking your seat at your local cafe and the baristas knowing your name. But home can also be this: an open door, a room full of flowers and green and life. A cup of your favourite tea and a snack you’ve come to associate with the word comfort. A conversation with a man who offers you a safe harbour, with no conditions to be anything other than to be what you are.

nsfw: you're burning up, i'm cooling down by @foggieststars | E | 12.3k Lando and Oscar have an understanding, Oscar doesn't get to come until Lando decides he's been good enough. This fic is so good and it might be my most reread f1 fic ever at this point. The dialogue is amazing and feels so real and on point for both Lando and Oscar. Their dynamic is so fun and sexy and well written and it makes so much sense for them and what I feel like landoscar would be. I lack the words to accurately describe how good this is: the writing, the plot, the sex are all phenomenal.

He teases Oscar about it, sometimes. How badly he wants it - to win, to be good. Lando asks him if he ever gets hard in the car out of some twisted desperation to please people. He loves thinking about Oscar’s muscled thighs clenching together in the car, vibrations running through his whole body, sparking little points of contact. So Lando lets the little game drag on into the race build-up sometimes, when Oscar is okay with it.

under my skin by @lellabellawrites | M | 16.8k An AU in which Oscar and Lando are serial killers who have a meet cute while dumping bodies, and fall in love. This fic absolutely floored me with how good it was, how this pair of incredibly dangerous people managed to focus all that intensity on one another. Their devotion to one another is absolutely touching, even if you can never forget what they do for fun. Oscar is methodical and calculating, Lando is more impulsive, which is perfect characterisation and shows how well they fit together, the Yin and Yang of it all. The ending left me breathless.

Oscar knows exactly who this man is now. The Quad County Killer sprung up last summer and has been on quite a spree lately. A handful of Oscar's kills have been attributed to him, which should be a relief from the extra cover it brings, but instead only pisses him off. This guy works recklessly, leaving his kills out in the open like he wants to be found out. Oscar would like the papers to give him a little more credit than that. "I work better alone." His disdain must be evident as the man relents with a sneer of disappointment. "Could you at least help me drag this down—" "No." "Fine." He takes one end of the duffel and heaves it over the curb with more strength than Oscar would have expected from his slender frame. "Did you sink yours or float?" "Sink. I'm not an idiot." "Alright. Rude."

you be time, i'll be space by littleplumtree | M | 50.8k Lando and Oscar are part of a space exploration team with the goal of finding sentient life outside of earth. why I like it: This author is a master of the details. Every piece, every detail, every action and reaction, they all serve to make the story richer and more vibrant. The characterization, too, feels comfortable and real. It's a joy to read.

With his eye to the microscope, Lando makes a heart wrenching little sound of relief. “Oh. Oh my god. There you are.” Oscar leans his elbows on the bench and stares into the tank. There’s nothing to see with the naked eye, but in that water is something that could one day, given all the time in the world, evolve into something like themselves. Maybe one day they’ll build pyramids and cry at sad movies and invent Tupperware and come up with a thousand different ways to insult each other online.

nsfw: Casual by @loquarocoeur | E | 95k AU, college roommates. Lando is perpetually horny and unlucky when it comes to hookups. He suggests that he and Oscar should just be friends with benefits, you know. Casual. Oscar agrees, even though he is madly in love with Lando and knows its a recipe for disaster. Lando gradually starts to realise the same. I am insane for just how good this fic is. It's not that the guys don't talk, they talk all the time and even communicate about their unique situation, they understand one another deeply and yet they still don't realise what space they occupy in one another's hearts. They are completely compatible in bed, if only they knew - Lando in particular is self conscious about the way he gets in bed and fights his very nature, all while not realising Oscar likes him that way. The angst is heavy but they get there in the end, while it has plenty of funny dialogue moments to lighten things. The characterisation is wonderful all round.

“So I stopped asking for sex and now we haven’t fucked in like five days which should be fine, but I don’t know, I’m getting desperate and he's just, like, fine, so maybe he doesn't need the sex, maybe he doesn't want the sex anymore, but he just can't admit it—” “Okay, Lando, I think you’re really overthinking—” “No! Because you see the fucking isn’t the only thing, the thing is that somehow we’ve sort of accidentally slept in the same bed for like a week and now we’re sort of fighting so I couldn’t sleep last night.” “Accidentally... For a week?”

#driver:lando #driver:oscar #pairing:lando/oscar #landoscar #mctwinks

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kohakurin8 · 3 months

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~ Elevator Hitch ~

What Does it All Mean!?

A brief theory on the symbolism and lore behind a really cool game

⚠️ WARNING ⚠️

This post will contain SPOILERS for the game and all 14 endings. If you wish to play Elevator Hitch before reading, you can download it for free at this link.

So, Where do we begin?

Elevator Hitch is a really cool isolated-loop surreal horror game. For those of you who aren't familiar with this concept, an "isolated-loop" is a time-loop scenario which only affects a single person, small group of people, single room, etc. — but does NOT affect the entire world or universe. This is where it's common to see things like acquiring an item in your inventory, getting murdered, then waking up again at the beginning of the day with the item still in your inventory.

This concept has been used in various different media, and to varying different degrees of complexity. But, honestly, I think this game is my favorite instance of it so far.

So our story revolves around Protag, a somewhat meek and nervous lil guy who comes to this office building to take an interview for a new job. All he knows is that his interview isn't on the first floor, so he gets in the elevator in an attempt to find it. Before the door closes, Coworker forces his way in, and the elevator suddenly shorts out and jams before you two can begin your journey. The rest of the game is your various attempts to exit the elevator (alive) which get increasingly bizarre — especially after Protag realizes that whenever he dies, time restarts to when they first entered the elevator!

Shame Coworker doesn't seem to remember anything, though...

Now, since the lore within the game is pretty cryptic, none of our questions about the situation ever seem to get totally answered. It's up to the player to theorize and surmise just what exactly is happening to Protag and Coworker, and that's exactly what I've come here to do.

Death and Clues on Every Floor...

Literally! Every floor is a single room containing at least 1 clue, and at least 1 possible death — including the elevator itself. But what's even more important than that is the lore that all of these scenes show you.

Interestingly enough, the lore all seems to revolve around who Protag is as a person, to the point that one of the floors is actually his childhood bedroom.

Kind of intriguing that everything about this environment is centered around him, huh?

Hold onto that thought.

Every room and scenario is increasingly more bizarre, featuring anything from Eldritch-esque beings to settings that could almost pass for torture chambers. Every puzzle requires something from a different floor, making it ridiculously easy to screw up and croak, meanwhile Coworker is so maddeningly unaware that even when he tries to offer advice it's just as cryptic as the situation itself.

It all feels a lot... Like Hell...

Not just as an expression, but actual Hell. Mind rending stimuli navigated through tedious puzzle solving, where the penalty is gruesome death and the only reward is more torture. A neverending loop of suffering and confusion. It's all quite hellish!

At first this feels a bit superficial. "Of course it's hellish, this is a horror game!" But, honestly, good horror like this game is rarely ever bizarre and incomprehensible for the sheer shock value. If all of these allusions were superficial, why would we have such a detailed and cryptic conversation with Manuel, the maintenance worker?

Why would every single "correct answer" to the puzzles have sinister undertones?

Why would the religious subtext in Protag's room be so subtle and yet so distinct at the same time?

So if we humour ourselves and follow this train of thought then that leads one to wonder...

Why would Protag be in Hell?

Good question! After all, he doesn't even seem to be aware of having any initial death!

But, we are given breadcrumbs to what sort of person Protag is through the various different scenarios that ensue. Some things are minor details, like his lack of remorse for feeding an innocent rat to a hungry black hole. Others are more intense and significant, like the clues in his bedroom...

Let's start with pointing out the obvious direction that Protag's dialogue trees nudge you in.

After all, this game is a visual novel, so of course there are points when your dialogue options matter and can very well change the outcome of the situation. However, most VNs have options that are distinctly "good" or "bad" for the story directions, often leading the player on a journey of teaching the protagonist how to be a better person.

But Protag.... doesn't become better...

All of his dialogue options are either:

• Confusion, Frustration, Disbelief

• Self-Deprecating, Meek

• Deceptive

• Lashing Out

Obviously some of these options are better for certain scenarios. Deceiving Coworker into giving you his lighter is a way better idea than trying to steal it and burning you both to death.

And deceiving your Doppelgangers into trusting you before your brutal betrayal is arguably better than trusting them and getting betrayed in return.

But none of these options point to Protag being a good person. As much as he learns to adapt to his environment, nothing he does teaches him how to be a better person than he started out as. In fact, some of them even lead him to commit murder himself!

Of course, this isn't saying that Protag is necessarily a bad person either. After all, his initial reaction to the Doppelgangers is to trust them and even show them pity.

We also get a lot of information about Protag from the floor that mimics his childhood bedroom. He was monitored constantly by overbearing and religious parents, to the point that one of the Bad Ends is his parents entering the room.

He couldn't sleep, plagued by nightmarish beings which he even made drawings of, and had to take sleeping pills just to cope (which may or may not have been hidden from his parents as well)

Considering this, and just the sheer amount of existential dread Protag has upon visiting this floor, it's very possible that his parents were abusive. His personality issues are probably a result of that abuse, meaning even though he isn't necessarily a good person, he also isn't inherently a bad one.

The Allusions of Suicide...

This should honestly come as no surprise, but this game does have a lot of potential allusions to suicide. Especially when taking into account what suicide means in Christianity...

I first noticed this in the dialogue on Floor 9 with Normal Guy, as well as the dialogue contained in Ending 13 (screenshot above). During the interview on Floor 9, Protag seems to struggle with answering most of the questions. When asked why he wanted a new job, all of the answers imply that he doesn't actually know why, and when asked why he left his old job, Protag states that "it wasn't a Real Job" or at least not one viewed as respectable.

Then, when attempting to leave the Lobby on Floor 1, Protag is blocked by an alarming figure who berates him. The figure taunts Protag with phrases he's likely told himself, like "you worked so hard to get here" and especially "you NEED this job"

Now, this game absolutely LOVES its workplace puns, and something about these ones just struck me as significant. Upon further reflection on everything going on, I realized that these phrases are almost synonymous with suicidal thoughts.

As someone who's experienced this myself, I understand that a lot of suicidal thoughts are rooted more in the desire for change, and not the desire for death. So consider this...

Protag isn't looking for a new job, he's looking for a new life. His old life didn't feel "real" or "respectable", likely because of whatever abuse he endured from his parents. After all, his childhood bedroom is described by him as his "old place", meaning he likely was living with his parents until somewhat recently.

So then when he finally passes the interview — passes this hellish elevator trial of self-discovery — and tries to flee, he's stopped by the thoughts of regret for taking his own life.

"You worked so hard for this new life, why are you throwing it away?"

"You NEED this change."

"You can't go back to what you were before."

Then there's the Sleeping Pill found in Protag's bedroom. It's not found in a pill bottle or any other typical storage, but rather it's under the bedsheets. This gives the impression that the pill either fell out of Protag's hand in bed, or that he was hiding the pills from his overbearing parents.

Then there's the fact that sleeping pills are a very common medium for attempted suicide.

This leads me to suspect that Protag either overdosed in an attempted suicide as a child, causing his parents to become even more protective.

Or... This is how Protag ended up at the office building in the first place...

Welcome to Protag's Purgatory

Yeah, you may have guessed it already, but I am in fact suggesting that Protag has committed suicide and is currently trapped in Purgatory. After all, if you consider the distinct hint at his religious background, it's not unlikely to be following the Christian belief that suicide will condemn you to Purgatory. In fact, the opening of the game, where Protag feels like the only one who doesn't know where he's going, is a reference to the nature of Purgatory.

Consider, also, the nature of the game. Everything you do in it is a sort of trial, and it all tests the nature of Protag's true self. Not to mention that Purgatory is an unchanging limbo, just as the game paints a picture of an unending time-loop on repeat.

Protag took his own life, and his penance is to be trapped in an unending trial of self-discovery. Floor 9 resembles Heaven, like Cloud 9, where Protag is administered one final test. Normal Guy gives Protag the option to have become a better person, and possibly pass on to a better afterlife, however our dialogue tree tells us that Protag hasn't reached that level of self acceptance yet.

Therefore, the only options are what appears to be working in Purgatory (possibly like Manuel), enduring the trial over and over again, or as hinted by the eerie staircase downward in Ending 14, descent into Hell...

You're probably wondering if this theory accounts for Coworker, and it certainly does. After all, he seems rather unperturbed by the events he's undergone. I suspect he also committed suicide, but didn't have the same background of religious guilt that Protag had growing up. Coworker knows that he's supposed to go to the top, that he's supposed to pass on. He's at peace with who he is and where he's going, therefore he doesn't endure the same personal torture that Protag does.

No matter what ending you get in Elevator Hitch, nothing truly changes for Protag, because he himself hasn't changed. It's possible that there is some sort of future where Protag can change and move on — in fact, Normal Guy even hints that speaking to Coworker more could be the key to his salvation — but this possible future is one we will never see.

Because that's not the point of the game. The point is to become immersed in the torture which Protag goes through, and to try and unravel the mysteries of who he is and what he's enduring.

So there's my thoughts on the game. I hope you all enjoyed reading, and I'd love to hear any comments or input you have!

#elevator hitch #studio investigrave #racheldrawsthis #indie horror game #game theories #analysis #itch.io #elevator hitch protag #coworker elevator hitch #normal guy #this took two days to write help

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astroismypassion · 2 years

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Astrology observations 🎀 🎀 🎀

Credit goes to my blog @astroismypassion

🎀 Leo Moons are often enamoured by idea of castles. If they could afford it, they would build a castle for their home. In other small cases they implement some sort of royal theme into their home. Like golden cutlery, a king sized bed, velvet or leather couch, some elements of yellow, gold and brown and so forth.

🎀 Gemini Moon can often experience similar feelings to embarrassment, because of their mother. Maybe because of how their mother decides to dress that looks sloppy or lazy, because mother doesn’t value hygiene and the home being always clean that much. It’s really in small details, but it’s there. Gemini Moon native can feel like their mother is too annoying for her to be accepted by her peers or that she is too often asking unnecessary “stupid” questions that makes her seem not well educated. They may not want to be seen in public with their mother that much.

🎀 Furthermore on Gemini Moon, the native’s mother might not really say “thank you” that often despite you thinking she would due to Mercury influence on the Moon. Instead, she often disregards the native, doesn’t thank them and even offers critique. The mother might want one thing one day and something completely ELSE right the next day. Also, if the mother of Gemini Moon native has two children, she will make big distinctions between them, like she will treat one very differently than the other.

🎀 There a small, but significant distinction between Virgo and Gemini Moon. Virgo is the real grinder, the hustler, the workaholic. Yet, Gemini Moon person might work just a part-time job or try to retire as soon as possible since they usually don’t feel accepted by work colleagues at their job, which leaves them feeling uncomfortable in a work setting. However, I would advise Gemini Moons to not COMPLETELY avoid work since you might create anxiety for yourself due to too much nervous, restless energy not constructively used. So you might seek unnecessary arguments within your family for that nervous energy release. All Mercurial Moons are meant to stay productive enough, because it allows them to have their emotions in check.

🎀 Sagittarius Moons are children of the world. They might not even have a home and put belongings in storage and just travel and stay at friend’s home, at the hotel. Or frequently change their home destination and even country. One day they are in London and the next day in Prague. They could live for a few months in many different countries.

🎀 Sagittarius Suns might really project an exaggerated sense of self and ego. They do that, because they always remember father’s words, truths, stories and they repeat that to themselves every time they don’t feel confident enough. So they repeat those words so many times, they end up with an exaggerated version of themselves, which they now present as their OWN TRUTH.

🎀 If you have Capricorn Moon or even just Capricorn degree Moon or Moon Saturn aspect there will possibly be a separation period with the mother (might be with both parents, but the mother is prominent). You might go off and marry somewhere else, live abroad or become a career person. There possibly could be a period where you won’t live with your mother or even see her on a regular basis for solid 10 years (or sometimes even more). So there will be a gap, after seeing her regularly after all this passed time, you will feel like you can’t truly understand her emotions, routine and habits she built, because of that years gap. There will be a feeling present like you are meeting a completely new version of your mother that you never knew before (Saturn).

🎀 I think we in astrology put too much emphasis on our IC sign being associated with family, especially mother and father. Your IC sign can show ANY ancestor in your family line of all time, it’s really not just parents or grandparents. It can be some of your ancestors (like a great great great grandfather or some sort of cousin) who was a merchant if you have Virgo IC and so forth.

🎀 Also, if you have Libra IC don’t mix love with money. Especially with this placement (even if you only have Libra degree IC) always keep your bank account separate from your partner’s! Because you probably carry a generational ancestral pattern of love zone turning into war zone. Think of Lady Diana and Prince Charles “great love” divided by Camilla, it’s that theme. I can’t emphasize this enough. Yes, you can still buy them gifts and treat them to something nice, just because you’re partners and in love we get it, but your bank account should always be your very OWN if you have this placement. And you know what’s even more surprising?? That your partner might be already doing this, while you still don’t. Even if it makes you uncomfortable hearing this, because you like harmony, balance and peace, don’t be too much in la la love land with Libra IC. So love is not equal money, remember this.

🎀 If you are a Scorpio Rising you might genuinely believe that you can master anything you put your mind to it, which is extremely good for you guys. Like you don’t even think in context of something being impossible, which is very admirable.

🎀 Leo Moon and Moon in the 5th house always remember their first love for their whole life. And might still find them beautiful even if they seem them again years after. They are also the type to be thinking about engagement while being 19. 😅

🎀 If your family members have Leo, Sagittarius Moon, you could seriously have a reality show, because just how you exist and behave is already entertaining enough to watch. And you probably naturally have good banter with your family members and siblings.

🎀 Mars in the 5th house and Mars in the 9th house hide a lot of pressure. They are often stressed out, because of wanting to take care of their whole family.

🎀 Mars in the 5th house, Leo Mars, Aries Moon, Aries Sun and Mars at a Leo degree could suffer from low iron or issues with blood pressure.

🎀 Aries IC are activists. They are always seen fighting towards something, injustice, social inequality, their own partner etc.

🎀 Gemini Lilith can be in and out of job often. Or they keeping changing jobs every 6 months or so. They have a hard time keeping a job steady.

🎀 Leo Moons can be known as playboys/playgirls. They might often have short-term relationships that are well-known or even be the third party in a partnership.

Credit goes to my blog @astroismypassion

#leo moon #astroismypassion #astroblr #astro community #astro theme #astrology #astro notes #astro observations #astrology observations #astrology observation #sagittarius moon #sagittarius sun #aries ic #moon in the 5th house #leo mars #aries moon #aries sun

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happylittleshrub · 3 days

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Rocket Plushie Review

My thoughts on Rocket plushies! I only own some of these so for those I'll go into a little more detail, but most of this is just based on vibes lol

This isn't in any sort of ranking or order

I love this one! His fur feels so soft and he sits on my desk and keeps me company. Reminds me of Pokemon's "Sitting Cuties" line of plushes. Sometimes he'll fall over a little but that's really only if he's sitting on a more uneven surface like a bed or sofa, on my desk he sits fine

This one looks like one of those Littlest Pet Shop toys. So many of the other Rocket plushies look good I don't know what happened here.

Sweet, sleepy boy I love to cuddle him ❤️ Both huggable and snuggable. My sleep has improved 120% since getting him 10/10 would recommend

This is my son my precious little child I love him I want the world for him he is the greatest thing in all of existence. He is so very soft and the perfect size to hug and to hold. ❤️

This is the first Rocket plush I ever got he is very special to me 🥹 I like the chibified design, very adorable! He does have a hard time sitting up on his own because of his disproportionately sized head, I usually have to lean him against something. His ears are velvety soft!

Tiny gremlin, an actual creature. He is full of bad ideas. I like that he comes with a tiny gun

This one looks kind of like a dog more so than a raccoon. Maybe it's just this picture. Idk he still cute tho

This one is good but something about his eyes feels a little off. I don't know if I trust him

Absolutely adorable! He has Animal Crossing vibes. I would buy him but he's over forty dollars 🙃

This one is cute but uh... this is legally distinct off-brand Rocket Wolf not Rocket Raccoon

He is 100% friend shaped I love him I want to give him a hug

"I can't believe I'm taking orders from a hamster." -Some Nova Corps Guy. I like this little dude, he's smol and squishy like a marshmallow!

This one is cute, but I do kinda wish his face wasn't so flat, otherwise no notes

This is so adorable wth you can carry Rocket around on your back like he's a sleepy little child I love it

Bro's lookin' like a finger puppet. He's very small and cute!

This Rocket looks like he needs some love. Well, that's all Rockets but especially this one. Looks like he'd be standing alone a street corner somewhere. Someone needs to bring him home and make him soup

I feel like this one should be the reference image next to the word Blorbo in a dictionary. This is the embodiment of blorbo and all other blorbos should bow to him

Shadow the Hedgehog wannabe. Gritty 90s reboot edgelord

This Rocket is smiling but I feel like he's screaming on the inside while this rando pulls on his ears

Football Head here stares into my soul. He can and will beat me up

Cute but not the best. I'd probably put him in a B-Tier (Shrub, you said you weren't going to do rankings!)

Adorable little guy! He has tiny magnets in his hands with which to hold batteries and other stolen items. You can also buy little outfits for these types of plushies so 20/10! During the colder months I let him ride around in my hoodie ^-^

This one is up to no good I love the mischief in his expression lol

I love Disney Tsum Tsum so this little peanut is an absolute winner in my book

"Until a second ago I thought you were a build-a-bear."

"MAYBE I AM"

He's so sweet and adorable would absolutely bring him home and love him forever (would be even better if he came with sound like some build-a-bears do)

WHO PUT HIM IN THE DRYER???

The way they did his eyes reminds me of Spiderman

He's a sweet boy he just needs someone looking out for him and to be his conscience and stop him from stealing batteries 💛

FERAL

Bro's got them sparkly anime eyes. Also sideburns

Alright I've reached the photo limit so that's all for now. If you read all the way down here thanks for checking out my silly ramblings!

#rocket raccoon #rocket raccoon plush #gotg merchandising #rocket raccoon plushie #rocket gotg #gotg rocket #guardians of the galaxy #gotg

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creedslove · 1 year

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HEARTLESS 💔 - PART SIXTEEN

Agent Whiskey (Jack Daniels) x f!reader

Summary: what happens when you break the cowboy hat rule? You and Jack finally spend much needed time together

(This is the sixth chapter of my HEARTLESS 💔 series)

• PART ONE TO FIFTEEN ON MY MASTERLIST

Warnings: fluff, romance, mentions of smut, teasing, dirty talk, making out, dry humping, sort of breeding kink, a little bit of lactation kink, thigh riding, smut (oral sex f!receiving, unprotected piv), mom!reader

A/N: I know we didn't have the cowboy last week and that made us all very sad, but personally, I think it was worth the wait, I hope you enjoyed it 🥰

5.9k words

The cowboy's heart beat faster and faster, his hands getting slightly sweaty to hold you tight against him, at the same time your words ran through his mind. You'd said yes, to marry him someday, to be his wife, to build a family with you. He couldn't even believe how happy and lucky he was.

You'd broken the cowboy hat rule on purpose, to symbolize how ready you were to be with him, of course he was excited about the sexual part, but it went further beyond that, it was about you and him and Wyatt and hopefully the kids you would have it in the future, about the chance he got from you. Jack was in a turmoil of feelings, only that this time they were good, positive feelings. The fear, the pain, the sadness were gone, ahead of him was just the happiness of having a family he wished for and craved through his entire life.

He looked down at you, wearing his hat and with a happy smile on your face, effortlessly beautiful, giggling at his touch as well as Wyatt who happily ran all over the place. For one split second Jack was sure he'd died on a mission and was sent to heaven, because that was his heaven: his family. But the kiss you placed on his lips was more than real, no heavenly fantasy would be able to reproduce the real deal. He knew those lips, he loved them, how soft they were, how good they tasted and how bad they could make a grown man cry.

You on the other hand, couldn't be happier about your cowboy and you; perhaps you had just low-key said yes to his proposal, but this time the consideration of marrying him didn't seem to be so scary, you would have to sit down with him and discuss things through, plan at least a couple of things for the future and sort out small details from your lives together, for example if you and Wyatt would permanently move onto the ranch and find a school for your son, for instance. But at that moment everything could wait, because the happiness you both were feeling was just too good, it wasn't like the old times with him - very often you had the habit of comparing situations - but instead, it was a new kind of happiness, the one you shared with your family. Even your son could sense how happy his mommy and daddy were, Wyatt had been having the happiest days of his life, but he was a sensitive boy and could tell when things were wrong, however, not this time, as he saw how his daddy held you tight and you giggled at him. He watched as you took his dad's hat and put it on your own head, how you stroked his cheek and kissed his lips, even if Wyatt thought those kisses were icky, it was cool to have his parents so united, maybe they could even become a big family, where the mommies lived with the daddies and their kids, just like he saw in the cartoons.

"Can I play in the inflatables, mommy?!" Your son suddenly interrupted your kiss, making you break contact with Jack and blush slightly to realize your son had been watching you two, of course he gave you the sweetest and most heartwarming puppy eyes you'd ever seen - courtesy of the Daniels' genes that ran in the family - and there was no way in the world you could say no to that little face. Clearing your throat, you nodded, chuckling at how he simply ran off, so excitedly to play some more. You turned your attention back to your cowboy, staring at him and taking in his handsome face. He'd gotten a little older with time, just like you had, but he was so handsome it made you go weak. Your hand ran through the side of his head, fingers burying into his fluffy hair, and running through it, before going a little south and stroking his cheek. Neither of you said a word, you didn't have to at that moment, because it was just you and him. The cowboy had a tight grip around you, he didn't let go of you for his dear life, you knew how much strength those hands carried and it was both assuring and arousing to know you were trapped in between them. Your body was pressed against his, he was always warm and if you rested your head against his chest, you could hear his heart beating. Perhaps it'd been the experience at the cemetery, or how you'd learned about his self-destructive behavior, but you were taken by a sudden fear of losing him. Your heart shattered just to imagine you could've lost him on different occasions and you looked down, letting out a sob before you could even realize it.

"Hey… what's wrong, sugar?" His voice was a soft purr, just as his touch: his fingers on your chin lifting your head up and making you look into his eyes. Jack Daniels didn't want to see his woman cry, whatever reason it was, he would do everything in his willpower to prevent that from happening. Now that you had said yes to him, that he would make you his wife, he wanted to shield you from anything bad in the world. He was terrified of losing another family in the same way, he would definitely have no reasons to keep going if that ever happened, so it was a scenario he didn't even like to think of.

"I-I'm sorry Jack… I got a little emotional. I just don't want to lose you, at all" you sniffed and dried your tears "I want our family to be complete, and I would like for you to also be careful when you go on your missions…" and you also wanted to tell him not to ever lose hope again, but you couldn't; his supposedly suicide attempts had been confided into you by Helen, you couldn't do that to her, at the same time you also didn't want your cowboy to be ashamed of what happened.

"Don't worry, princess… I'll take good care of myself because there ain't no way in hell I'll leave my family waiting for me back home" he winked at you and leaned in again, kissing your lips with a groan at the feeling of you tugging his hair.

Jack smiled between the kisses, his hand going towards your legs as the other sustained your back and he soon lifted you up, holding you in bridal style as you squealed surprised, wrapping your arms around his neck so you wouldn't lose balance

"What are you doing, Jack?!" You asked, feeling excited but also a little nervous. You had no idea what crossed your cowboy's mind, but you hoped he didn't have any crazy ideas, but he only chuckled and walked towards the inflatables, the two of you could see your son bouncing around, having so much fun but the moment he noticed the two of you, he frowned softly "mommy? What happened daddy?" He seemed puzzled to why his daddy was carrying his mommy, maybe she got hurt? But Wyatt didn't want to see his mommy hurt.

"Awe you huwt mommy?"

"Mommy ain't hurt, kid, but she was a little upset so I'm guessing she should jump a little and have some fun, don't you think?" Whiskey winked at his son, who clapped his little hands excitedly and opened space for Jack to get inside the bounce house, so thrilled to have his parents to play with him.

He finally put you down but Wyatt held your hand tight "jump mommy!!! Play with me!"

Perhaps you were still very emotional, but just the fact you saw your son's happiness all over his gorgeous face, the way his bright innocent eyes lit up with excitement at your presence melted your heart and made you tear up. You nodded at him and pulled him for a tight hug "of course my love, mommy and daddy will play with you my angel" you said taking Jack's hand into yours and the three of you bounced together, slowly at first, but increasing the speed as Wyatt had more and more fun. If someone ever told you one day you'd be playing in a bounce house with your son and his father after you jumped into his arms and told him that yes, you were willing to marry him, you'd have laughed your ass off, thinking they were just crazy to make up the most absurd story but there you were, enjoying every single small detail you could. Your future husband and your son. Butterflies in your stomach swirled inside every time you thought of it: marrying Jack. You wanted it, but you were also scared. The rational side of you wanted to take things slow and wait, but the other part of you, the one driven by your heart, that barely could contain your feelings, just wanted your happy ending as soon as possible.

Tiredly sitting down, Wyatt joined you, getting comfortable on your lap and sighing happily, while Jack joined the two of you and pulled you closer. You three caught your breaths, in a comfortable silence that said a lot about how happy you were at that moment. You felt Whiskey's hand on your hair, tucking a strand of it behind your ear in such affectionate way, he had always been careful with it, he'd always loved it, the way it felt under his touch, always soft and smooth, the smell of it, burying his face into it so he could have a peaceful night of sleep. He moved some of it away from your neck, leaning in and pecking it, sending goosebumps all over your skin at the sudden contact. He eyes his son and smirked at how distracted his little boy was, so he kissed your neck again, more intensely this time, his teeth nibbling it at the same time you bit your bottom lip so you wouldn't moan out loud in a fucking inflatable toy.

"Better catch your breath, sugar, you'll be doing a lot of bouncing tonight…" he whispered against your ear loud enough so only you would hear it. Smirking at you with a dumb smile while picking up his stetson that had fallen while you were all playing and putting it back on. You'd broken the cowboy hat rule and it was about time you rode your cowboy. Yet, his words sent a fire sensation down your core, one that unabled you from thinking and the only thing you could mumbled was your cowboy's name. He chuckled and kissed your neck a third time, his mustache tickling your skin at the same time he placed his warm hand on your thigh, stroking it softly and watching how affected you were by his simplest touch.

"I-I think it's time for us to get inside, daddy will help you open your presents and mommy will make us a yummy dessert, what do you say?" You ran your fingers through your son's hair, getting your shit back together and wanting to get away from that bounce house as soon as possible. Jack's touches were enough to set you on fire and you needed to step away from him for a little while so you could catch your breath and act normal in front of your son, besides, you'd picked a bunch of fresh peaches and you wanted to prepare your cowboy his favorite pie, it would always make him happy when you did so and you just wanted to show him how important he was for you.

There was also the fact you knew your son always behaved and obeyed his dad, which meant that if Jack told him it was enough bouncing for the day, he wouldn't whine or try his dirty trick of giving you the sweetest and saddest puppy eyes seen by the human race. Whiskey could keep Wyatt entertained inside with opening his presents and playing and hopefully he would be tired in a matter of time, being safely tucked into bed and giving his mommy and daddy some much needed alone time. Jack nodded at Wyatt, who pouted at first but agreed on exiting after the promises of opening his presents. As the southern gentleman he was, your cowboy helped your son hop off the toy and then helped you, smirking up and down at your body. You knew that grin, that heavy breathing and how he stood at the entrance, stopping you from getting out, holding you and pressing you down against the bouncing floor, his lips once more teasing your skin, kissing up and down your throat, his mustache leaving soft burns all over you. You bit your lips, looking into his eyes, his brown ones shooting you a burning gaze; you knew him, his hunger for you, it was so intense he could take you right there, but you also knew how patient your cowboy could be when it came to teasing his soft little prey. His heavy breathing against your chest now, as he pulled the fabric of your dress down just enough to expose your cleavage, spreading ghostly kisses all over it, his teeth nibbling you gently at first, at the same time you let out a soft whimper.

"Jack, you're teasing me…" you whined as your cowboy chuckled, his hands going to the hem of your pretty dress, lifting it up, exposing your thighs for his delight.

"You want more, sugar? I bet you missed your cowboy, didn't ya?" He saw as you nodded "you've been so dirty for breaking the cowboy hat rule, how about I fuck you here? You don't even need help to bounce on my cock, would you like that, sweetheart? Being pounded like a little slut in an inflatable toy? Sounds like you're a whore for my cock, are you, baby girl?"

"Mm yes, cowboy" you bit your lips, squealing as his lips went for your stomach, pecking it all his way down the hem of your panties. You instinctively parted your legs for Jack, feeling his hands going under your thighs, going up until your round ass, squeezing and rubbing your cheeks. He loved the pleasure little sounds that came out of your filthy lovely mouth. He knew what you were capable of doing with his cock, but he needed to be patient. If he'd waited until that moment to savory you, he wouldn't rush things up now, so he ran his hands to your sides entwining his fingers on the sides of your panties, pulling them down and not breaking eye contact with you at all.

"What are you doing, Jack?" You asked him, feeling your cunt clenching at nothing, being so turned on at the simplest touch; no man could ever do that to you but your cowboy. He knew you entirely, knowing just how to press your buttons and play you like his toy.

He looked down at your naked pussy and it took him all of his willpower not to touch you right there and then, but he had further plans for you. Taking your panties off he chuckled at you, showing you the wet spot on the thin cloth and smirked "barely touched ya and you're already wet for me, angel… now let's see if you're still as sweet as I remember" the cowboy whispered his words hiding his obscene intentions at the same time he took your panties to his face, licking the puddle of your wetness, groaning at the taste before shoving your delicate piece of lingerie into his back pocket.

"You're still the sweetest cunt I've ever tasted, no wonder you're my sugar" he placed his hands on his waist and watched as you pulled your dress down and looked at him in a mix of embarrassment and desire. You pulled Jack by the shoulders, kissing him as deeply and intensely as you wanted, tasting yourself briefly on his lips, you felt you could stay there forever, if it weren't for Wyatt's voice interrupting you.

"Mommy!!! Daddy!!! We need to open the pwesents!" He shouted excitedly from the front door and you managed to cover yourself even more.

"Coming, cowboy!!!" Jack shouted back and waved at his son, who giggled and ran back inside. Then, he extended his hand towards you, helping you up but snapping your hand away from his back pocket

"They're mine now, sugar, so you better behave as your sweet cunt is now exposed for me" he winked at you and made you blush softly.

•••

"What awe you doing, mommy?" Wyatt tilted his head curiously as he stood next to you, watching your every move attentively, loving the smell of whatever mysterious dessert you were making and warming your heart at the fact your son was definitely just like his daddy: crazy about his peach pie.

"I'm making grandma Daniels recipe, honey: peach pie… your daddy used to love this dessert when he was little like you, his grandma would make it for him almost every week, and when mommy and daddy lived together, I also used to prepare it for him and he loved it!" You explained to your son, loving how surprised and happy he got at that information. While Jack was in the living room, picking up the shredded pieces of colorful paper that once gift-wrapped Wyatt's birthday presents. Since your cowboy took care of your son, you went to the kitchen to prepare his pie, being too agitated to focus on anything or nothing at all, it didn't matter if you wanted to actually distract yourself or not: all you could think of was Jack Daniels.

The way he had barely touched you and yet your whole body was set on fire, or the simple anticipation for the moment you would share in a little while, after all those years apart from each other, couldn't contain the lust you were feeling for that man. There was no denying you couldn't resist to him, he was intoxicating, poisonous even, the kind of touch to linger on you and make your skin burn at the memory, even if you'd freshened up and changed to another cute and tempting summer dress - without panties, respecting your cowboy wishes - you could still feel the warm slick pooling between your folds each time you moved. After going over all the amazing presents your son got, you decided to hide away in the kitchen hoping you'd be able to think of something else, but it was no use: your memory took you back to the bounce house.

Wyatt's presence helped you snap away from your wet daydreams as you explained to him all about the new sweet you were making, he was very curious and his tummy was very happy to know he would be trying that delicious treat soon. You had never eaten peach pie again, not after you and Jack broke up, it was one the small little things that reminded you of him and it made everything even more painful, but now you had no reason to dwell into that puddle of sadness any longer, you and the cowboy were back together, your family was happily united and you were so ready to be railed by your cowboy until sunlight.

Only when your son fell asleep though.

And by the excited way he was chatting and asking questions, it seemed it would still take a while; you chuckled to yourself at the situation, Jack had insisted on having another child and yet you two couldn't even handle one. It was one of those sweet ironies of life and you wouldn't trade that for anything in the world.

"I thought you said you'd climb upstairs and change into your new cow PJs so you would show mommy you're a big boy now?" Whiskey folded his arm and stared at Wyatt with a serious expression only to soften up and open his arms to his son, who giggled and ran to his daddy's embrace. Someone had gifted your son a new pair of cow themed pajamas and he was really excited to put it on, wanting you to see he could do it on his own. Your heart clenched at pride of seeing your son was growing up and becoming an independent little child and also at the fact perhaps he was growing up too fast. However, you lost your track of thoughts the moment he disappeared into the second floor running as fast as his little legs allowed him in order to get changed and the cowboy cornered you.

Feeling his presence on your back, he held your hips and pulled your body against his.

"I like this new dress, sugar… aren't ya all fresh and sweet for your cowboy? You know I've been thinking of this sweet pussy the whole night, right? You've been such a filthy little whore, breaking the cowboy hat rule on purpose, and all for what? Leaving me with a hard on? Getting this tight pretty pussy soaked for me?" His filthy words whispered like a prayer into your ears was more than enough reason for you to press your thighs together. The knot of anxiety, anticipation and lust all mixed up together in your lower belly just made you want to ignore everything around and spread your legs so he could take you right there. You were so slippery all he would need to do would be slide into you into one single motion and have his way with you. Never in your life, you thought you would be aching to be Jack Daniels' cum slut again.

He trailed more kisses down your neck towards your shoulder, at the same time he lifted your dress just enough to reveal your named ass cheeks, satisfied to see you didn't have anything on underneath it, exactly the way he liked you. Pressing his crotch against your ass, you finally felt the damage you'd left on your cowboy's pants. He was rock hard, probably had been for a while, and it was pretty satisfying to realize he was as affected by you, as you were by him.

The two of you were a match and no one could state it otherwise.

"Feel it, sugar… this is what you do to me. There ain't no other like you in the world, no other chick would ever be able to make me this hard, no one would ever be as sweet as you are, I can't wait to feel you all over me"

At his words, you grinded against his crotch. The low groan escaping his lips was enough for you to do it again, your naked ass cheeks grinding against his boner, hands tightening the grip on your hips as his own met yours at the same pace, pressing you harder against it so it would apply more pressure. He threw his head back, loving how it felt to be humping you like that, he was throbbing under his pants, seeking relief and hoping he would last a decent amount of time when he finally fucked you.

"Don't forget your cowgirl boots tonight, sugar… you gotta be dressed for riding" he gave your ass one soft slap as unfortunately, it didn't last long as small steps were heard coming down the stairs, so he lowered your dress carefully and sat at the kitchen table, pretending nothing had happened the minute Wyatt walked into the kitchen.

•••

You couldn't even believe it when your son finally closed his little eyes and went straight to dreamland. It seemed it'd taken forever for it to happen. You'd had enough time to finish baking your pie, letting it cool down and only after a glass of warm milk and two bedtime stories, Wyatt finally fell asleep. You told Jack you'd tuck your son into bed, while the cowboy went to his own, you knew he was probably sorting some things out which again, shot another wave of anticipation down your body. It felt kind of ethereal to know you would be sleeping together in a matter of time, but you were so excited and willing to submit yourself whole to your cowboy, and you could bet he was feeling just the same for you. Kissing your son's forehead goodnight, you left his bedroom as quietly as possible and went to your own, wanting to take a look at yourself and make sure you were looking alright for him. You got your cowboy boots and put them on, checking yourself in the mirror, you decided not to put on any lingerie, just your short light dress and your boots would be enough to ride your cowboy. You just brushed your hair a little and went to Jack's room.

Your heart was hammering on your chest, and you felt quite anxious. On the one hand you were going to come back to the pleasure you knew, loved and craved; on the other hand, it was almost like you were as nervous as when you lost your virginity. You would be officially Jack's and he would be yours, much to your happiness, you were about to become one again. You knocked on his door and bit your lips, looking down at your own boots as he opened the door, and you could see in his eyes he had all the Whiskey in him; your sweet Jack was out of the room and entered the dirtiest man you'd ever met: Agent Whiskey.

His leather jacket was gone, but he stood in his full cowboy glory, with his riding boots, tight jeans and stetson on, enough to make your mouth water and you crash your lips against his, feeling the hunger for that man overwhelming your judgment and your senses. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into the room and locking the door behind you. His hands went immediately to your ass, squeezing them and dragging a moan from you. Jack chuckled in between kisses and nibbled your bottom lip

"Remember you asked me for a date? I got one for ya, sugar" he winked and took you by the hand, guiding you to the balcony of his room, where a table was sat with two glasses and some of the finest beverages by Statesman. He pulled the chair for you, making sure to use his manners, and earning a sweet smile. That old broken heart of his wasn't that broken anymore, as it filled with love each time more, each time he spent next to you. He sat down, manspreading on his chair, which made you lick your lips, at the sight of his big bulge. He followed your eyes on him straight to his crotch and licked his own lips, smirking

"Guess you don't wanna go on a date, Suger?" You shook your head and he nodded, patting his thigh so you'd sit on it.

It didn't take you seconds to just jump from your seat to his lap, feeling so hot and bothered at the man's body so close to yours.

"I have broken the cowboy hat rule Jack, you gotta do something about it" you teased him, welcoming his lips for another kiss, at the same time his hands played with the straps from your dress, pulling them down and watched as the cloth ran down your perfect chest, exposing your tits for him.

"Look at that, sugar… how beautiful your tits are. I missed them" his thumb ran over your nipple, loving how it hardened under his touch. You were always so responsive to it, it pleased that cowboy to no end. He kissed your throat, sinking his teeth into your skin, not caring if he would leave a trail of hickeys all over it, getting his mouth onto your nipples, licking them gently, one at a time, before suckling on them, you were still as sensitive as he remembered.

"I want them fuller, sugar… I want to see your tits so damn big full of milk… too bad I missed it with our first cowboy, but I'm definitely putting a baby in you very soon…" he mumbled against your nipple before latching onto it and suckling on it once more. You took the stetson off his head, placing it on the table and burying your fingers into his soft hair, tugging at it gently as he took time with your breasts. You parted your legs shifting your weight and sitting on his thigh, lifting your dress up above your waist, your wet, slippery cunt straight against his rough jeans as you loved your hips slowly at first, closing your eyes and enjoying the pleasurable feeling.

His right hand went for your waist, holding you and helping you grind your needy count against his thigh. His jeans were thick and it made your clit so sensitive at the friction, Jack wouldn't leave your nipples, face buried deep between your breasts.

"How are you putting a baby inside if all you do is tease and not fuck me?" You blurted out, the impatience and the need for his cock making its appearance as you needed him. Jack frowned and stopped everything he was doing, holding you by the hips and swatted your ass hard, making you whimper and kissed you deeply, wanting to show you who was in charge there. The cowboy would take care of your dirty mouth and your tight sweet pussy. He broke the kiss and got his hat, placing it on your head. It was finally time for you to ride your cowboy.

•••

The way he got up, pulling you to him and carrying you to the bed as if you weighed nothing, only added more lust to your hopeless case. You needed that man and you would do anything for him in order to fuck you; it would be too easy for him to lay on the bed and just fuck you there, he needed more, he wanted you to ride him, and he was definitely willing to have every inche of your body. Finally stripping you off your summer dress and having you standing in your naked glory in front of him with the exception of your riding boots and your hat, this cock was about to burst his pants. He was painfully hard, but he knew it was worth the wait. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he pulled you closer, admiring every inch of you, he scanned your naked body meticulously as if it was the last time he would ever spot such beauty.

"Don't be shy, sugar" he cooed and kissed your stomach again, resting his head on it briefly and closing his eyes as if he'd said a prayer in gratitude for having his family back. Then, he quickly got rid of his clothes, kicking them out in a sloppy way here and there, before finally lying onto the mattress and relaxing. He pulled you on top of him, seeing you were ready to take his cock inside, but he wanted more than that, so he pulled you closer, towards his chest "ride your cowboy now, sugar, don't hold back though" giving you the order, even if it was in his soft voice. You understood perfectly what he wanted and you were going to give it to him. Getting even closer to his handsome face, you spread your thighs aiming his head between them, and lowered yourself, throwing your head back and letting out a loud and intense moan the moment you felt his devilish tongue against your slit.

He hadn't tasted sweeter sugar than you and he never would, because you were the only one he ever craved and wanted. His tongue explored your delicious cunt, running up and down your slit, going deep into your pussy hole until it finally settled on your hard needy clit. His hands showing you the pace, which you picked up quickly, of course still a little shy in the beginning, but moving as soon as the pleasure build up inside of you. You rode your cowboy's face, his perfect nose brushing against your clit as his perfectly trimmed mustache was a mess because of your wetness, you knew you were too close. It was only the first out of the many times you and Jack would spend together, for the rest of your lives, you reminded yourself. There was no need to try and make it last, you both couldn't wait. He was your honey, your sweetness and your knot was so tight in your lower belly, the moment he told you to let go, you did it without thinking twice; your pussy clenching and making a mess on your cowboy, your clit throbbing and so sensitive and yet, you just gathered the energy you had within and moved to his lap, knowing he couldn't wait any longer. You massaged his cock, you'd missed it his thick length so much, you missed teasing his leaking tip, caressing his heavy balls and making him cum as hard as he made you do the same, but now you didn't need to worry, because that would become your new routine, and you couldn't wait for it.

You held him by the base and sank your slippery cunt down his length, feeling him stretching you up the way no man ever had. When he got as deep as he could, you placed both hands on his chest to look for balance, before moving your hips the way you knew it drove Whiskey crazy. When you relationship began, shortly after you two had met years ago, he had joked he fell in love with you and the way you moved your hips while riding him, and there was some truth behind that; but it wasn't just that, it was everything else. That cowboy had fallen for you at first sight and there was nothing he wanted more than make you his forever. You fastened your pace, riding him and feeling how his cock throbbed inside of you, loving every second of it

"Come on Jack, give it all to me cowboy, it's your turn" you whispered to him, feeling another orgasm approaching and working on it, wanting to cum more, at the same time he finally let go and shot his load inside of it. You could feel every inch of him inside, his thick hot cum going as deep as it could reach and you only collapsed on top of him, resting your head on his chest while you tried catching your breath. Jack tried doing the same, since he was silent and it was quite difficult for that cowboy to ever shut up, it was the proof he was coming down from his bliss as well. You smiled lazily and pecked his chest, seeing how some of his chest hair was already going gray and felt a wave of affection for him.

Your Jack.

Your cowboy.

"I love you" you whispered against his skin, the confession everyone knew but you hadn't dared to say it out loud, not until that moment, but it was necessary, you wanted him to know, to hear about, to feel it, everything about your love. You loved that cowboy with all your heart and he loved you just the same, and from that moment on you two could finally be the family you were meant to be from the start.

____

A/N: I love this cowboy so much 😍😭🤠

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halliescomut · 1 year

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Boss/Noeul for The Boy Next World

So we got official confirmation (that we were all expecting) that Boss and Noeul will be playing Cirrus and Phugun respectively in The Boy Next World series coming form Mame/MeMindY. I read the whole novel in about 2 days...finishing up 4 hours prior to the announcement. (Poor decision making on my part honestly.) But I wanted to talk about the novel and basic story, the characters and what I think makes Boss and Noeul a good fit for them, some concerns, and some moments in the novel I'm excited to see.

I am going to attempt to sort of graduate spoilers, so we'll start with no spoilers, move on to potential mild spoilers, and the on to pretty moderate-severe ones. I will clearly mark each transition, so you can stop reading when you like.

No Spoiler Section- Story and Character Summaries

We'll start by going over the basic summary of the story. Phugun and Cirrus are university students that live in the same apartment building. One night Cirrus shows up at Phugun's apartment and tells him that he is his boyfriend. Phugun is understandably confused, as despite having attended the same high school and university, they've NEVER interacted before, but invites him in. Cirrus asserts that he is from a parallel universe where they had started dating in high school. From there it's a bit of a shenanigans ensue situation, but Phugun, being soft-hearted, agrees to try and help Cir get back to his own world, and Cir simply can't help doting on whatever Phugun is available to him. You'll laugh, you'll cry, you might yell.

Now to the characters:

Phugun (often called Phu) is a 2nd year humanities student. He is described as small, cute, and a bit silly. He's also quite feisty and soft-hearted (though he doesn't present that side of himself) and importantly he's kind of superstitious. It is a main character point that he believes that wearing certain colors on certain days will bring him luck, and on days where he can't bad things happen to him. He's an only child and his father passed away when he was in middle school or junior high, so probably about 12-13. After that his mother began travelling abroad, leaving him under the supervision of an aunt. He has a close-knit group of university friends, though from what I can tell none of them pre-date uni.

Cirrus (most often referred to as Cir or P'Cir) is a 4th year business management student. He is described as tall and very handsome, often pursued by other students, but he entertains no one. His nickname on campus is Ice Prince, and many people seem to be afraid of his dark glowers. He does have a small group of friends as well, one from high school (or possibly previously) and one that appears to be just from university. He is the eldest of two children, with a 1 year younger brother (Zone), and his parents are divorced. With Phugun, Cirrus becomes warm and doting, in contrast to the cold persona he presents otherwise.

Now reading through those descriptions you may think...those sound kind of a lot like Rain and Payu...and you are correct. Beginning the novel, I had the same concerns, that these characters were far to similar to their LITA ones and wouldn't offer much space for growth and progression as actors. I have also read the LITA novels (they're actually the only Mame novels I had read before embarking on the Boy Next World) and while I enjoyed Love Storm, I did feel that there wasn't A LOT of serious depth or emotional growth happening in the novel. This is not bad, it's simply my observation, and I enjoyed the novel and series regardless. Through the BNW novel we do have access to both leads points of view and a lot more detail about their backstories, so they are far more fleshed out, complex characters from the start. Because of this, I am potentially hopeful of some really affecting moments that will give Boss and Noeul a great opportunity to really stretch their acting wings. I've made a post before about Noeul's acting specifically, as Rain is incredibly different from him overall, and that remembering that definitely increased my appreciation of his performance there. Rain as a roles is more one that seems simple because he's kind of the most relatable, but for him to be so different from Noeul would offer a specific set of challenges.

There are also a couple of instances in the novel that I think Boss and Noeul in particular could convey very well....

Parallel World Set-up

I also want to give a small explanation of the parallel world basis for the novel, as there are many wildly different systems used in fictional stories, some more complex than others. Below is a pretty basic diagram of the type of parallel world set-up we're looking at.

It's pretty basic, the timeline moves forward and a certain point an occurrence or decision changes the course of the timeline creating to separate but parallel worlds (hence why they travel in the same direction together). In media this divergence point can be anything, in Sliding Doors it's Gwenyth Paltrow's character catching the train versus missing it, but it can also occasionally be a decision. A yes leads to one future, no leads to another, similar to a choose your own adventure story. The divergence point is revealed in the novel, but I won't spoil that, but that decision creates Timeline B where Cirrus and Phugun meet and begin dating in high school. That is the only difference between the two timelines. The orange dashed line is the inciting incident of the novel itself where Cirrus-B ends up in timeline A, and Cirrus-A ends up in timeline B.

I'm going to finish up with trigger warnings for the novel (and likely the series) if you choose to pick it up prior to the show coming out. There are some pretty serious instances of emotional and physical abuse of Cirrus at the hands of his mother, starting from when he was a child. There are also a couple of instances of homophobia. Most of this stems from two specific characters, but there are insensitive and degrading comments made by sort of background characters as well. Grief and grieving is also a potential trigger, as there is discussion related to the death of Phugun's father throughout the novel. As someone who has lost both parents, I did cry at these moments.

Mild to Moderate Spoilers- Scenes and aspects I would like to see in the series

So there are a handful of portions of the book that I really would like to see in the series, and a couple of 'silly' things that I think would just be fun/funny. I'll start with those.

Since we've now established the potential for recasting... I think it would be hilarious if Mame cast a bunch of the actors from the friend group in LITA as the friends in BNW. Specifically Pepper as P'Ren, one of Cirrus's friends who is obsessed with his tropical fish. It would just give the whole thing a bit of a community theater vibe, and I love that.

Since we have a a parallel or alternate universe situation, cast the previous Cir and Phu (Haii and Title) from TharnType 2 as the other versions of them. We don't actually see the other versions in the novel, but it feel like it would be funny like in the opening credits to see like side-by-sides of their lives/timelines.

Now on to actual story points and scenes from the novel I really want to see, and one I kind of hope we don't. We shall get the No out of the way first:

-I do think it is important to keep the child abuse storyline, but I very much hope that it is kept very circumspect or minimal in the show. I would especially not like to SEE it. I think maybe having Cir and Phu talk about it, maybe with audio-overlays or allusions to what happened. But it's pretty dark, and I don't want something like what we got in Don't Say No. Mostly because I have concerns about how filming those scenes can psychologically impact a child actor.

Now the YES's:

-I very much want to see the potential or alluded to second couple of P'Wim and Jin (who are friends of Cir and Phugun). Their vibe is one best described as Hermione Granger and Luna Lovegood, and their interactions in the novel were delightful. I'm sure how much we'll get depends on the episode count, but I'm hopeful for more than a Ryu/Sun situation in Wedding Plan.

-As discussed, Phugun has some superstitions related to the clothes he wears, and in the novel this goes all the way down to underwear. I would love to see like a calendar montage where you see him rotating through a rainbow of different colored outfits. (It would be delightfully gay.)

-I want Zone to be in the show. He's only present a couple of times in the novel, but I do feel that he's necessary to the story and that removing him would negatively impact Cirrus's character/backstory, as his relationship with his brother does play a role in a lot of his choices. But in the novel, they have a fun dynamic, and his interactions with Phugun are quite sweet, so I feel like it would be a great inclusion.

-There are a couple of instances in the story where Cir sings Phugun to sleep to comfort him. We know Boss has a lovely singing voice, I would like to see that.

-There is a scene related to a musical instrument that was left to Phugun by his late father, but Phugun can't play it. In the scene Cirrus plays it for him, and it's one of the scenes that made me absolutely lose it. Now the instrument isn't a guitar, but since we know Boss can play guitar, I don't think it's unreasonable to just change the type of instrument, as that doesn't really affect the story. Though I am aware that a lot of viewers hate the "guitar in BLs" trope, there is a real emotional gravitas to this scene that I think it would be unfortunate to lose.

-Lastly, there are not many NC scenes in the novel, I think 3 fully explicit ones and a couple that are alluded to. But the first one is a BJ in which Phu is receiving and Cir is performing. Now BJs in general are rarely even portrayed in BL, for many reasons, but the fact that it's not easy to film in a manner that would get by censors, or to portray in a romantic light are probably major factors. It's also something that could be far more uncomfortable for the actors to film. But when they are even hinted at it's often the 'Top' who is receiving, we honestly rarely see concentrated effort from a 'Top' to pleasure their 'bottom' without achieving their own 'completion.' I think a lot of this stems from the heteronormative relationship aspects traditionally applied to BL couples. Just as there's an idea in heteronormative/patriarchal society that a woman is there to provide pleasure to the man, and a man is not obligated to return it, that get's saddled on homosexual characters, leading to a situation where we rarely see Tops do much more than prep and penetrate (and the prep is often off screen). It's something that bugs me regularly, even in shows I really like. It's something you see with Kinn/Porsche, with Dean and Pharm in UWMA. These are characters where there is supposed to be this insane level of affection and adoration in the Top for their bottom, but they're not going out of their way to make sure they feel good??? Seems fake. In fairness to Mame, while she does fall into many a problematic trope, she also really likes bossy bottoms who advocate for their own pleasure, so there is that.

So....that's my thoughts on what to expect and what I hope to see. I hope you enjoyed.

#BossNoeul #boss chaikamon #noeul nuttarat #Cirrus x Phugun #Cir x phu #cirrusphugun #cirphu #The Boy Next World #Mame BL #MeMindY #Thai BL #PayuRain

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writingquestionsanswered · 1 year

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I've often heard that it's not okay to put any sort of worldbuilding info(dump) in a prologue. But what are the parameters in which it would work well? I know Avatar has done it and it was fairly brief but I'm just curious as to how far one can go with "infodumping" in a prologue without it becoming boring to the reader. Also if it does get to the point where it is too much or not necessary then what are some ways you can explain worldbuilding in the story when every character is usually in the know of how the magic system works or whatever?

Info-Dumping, Prologues, and Weaving In Details

First, it's important not to confuse "info-dumping" with providing information in your story. Info-dumping is specifically when you use exposition to "dump" a whole bunch of information into the story at once, rather than weaving those details into the narrative through a balance of exposition, action, and dialogue. In The Hunger Games, for example, details about Katniss's life and the oppressive world she lives in are doled out between exposition (her first-person thoughts), dialogue (with Gale), and action (walking through District 12, hunting outside the electric fence, the Reaping.) If it had been info-dumped, the entire first chapter would just be Katniss "telling" the reader all of those things rather than the reader getting to experience some of them through action and dialogue.

Prologues have a very specific use, are rarely needed, and are often misused--which is why writers are typically told to avoid them all together. Prologues aren't there to be used as an expository introduction to your story's world, characters, back story, or situation so that the reader is up and running in chapter one. Prologues are meant to house a scene (or small group of scenes) that take place before the main timeline of your story but which provide critical information and details the reader must know going into the story. Just as with any other scene or chapter, prologues need to be a balance of exposition (explaining), action (things happening), and dialogue. A good example is the prologue at the beginning of George R.R. Martin's A Game of Thrones. The scene takes place north of the wall and features some Night's Watch rangers encountering a White Walker. This scene is important because it sets up the hidden conflict at the heart of the story--the battle between humanity and the magical undead ice beings from beyond the wall. While we do certainly get some expository information in the way of world building, character details, and back story, it isn't dumped on the reader. Some of it is expository, but the rest is woven into the action and dialogue as these characters range beyond the wall and encounter the White Walker.

Even when your characters are "in the know" about the details of your story, that doesn't mean they can't think about them, interact with them, or talk about them. In the real world, we may not do that a lot, but books are not the real world. Books are a storytelling device which requires you to transcend some everyday realities in order to keep the audience informed of what's going on. Part of that means finding ways for your characters to think about, interact with, or talk about things that will help deliver the necessary details to your reader. For example, in The Hunger Games, we get a lot of world building details and Hunger Games set up through action and dialogue while Katniss walking through District 12 to meet Gale, and then hunting with him in the meadow. The entire scene exists solely to introduce the reader to Katniss, her world, the people who are important to her, her internal conflict, and the story's external conflict.

Have a look at my post Weaving Details into the Story for more help. Happy writing!

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minecraftbookshelf · 9 months

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In the Marriage of State au what are the naming traditions for the different empires. Like in some cultures people are named in a set way or set time after birth and I was wondering considering the different lifespans, way of life, (and with the sea folk) way of birth, and varying different religions how that would go with the different empires

So for most of the empires I actually haven't really thought of How Names except for the ones that I have where I have thought about it In Detail.

(This is mostly the fae/adjacent people and the sea-folk)

For the Sea Folk my main thought is that, if they are the variety that only have one or two eggs at a time, they give names to the eggs once they pass a certain point in development. These names are formatted like nicknames, but are considered the infants first, official name and older family members will often refer to the individual by that for their entire life. (Lizzie's nickname for Jimmy does not translate well at all. In most surface languages it more or less directly translates to "small damaged egg" which leaves out the Oceanic connotations of "beat the odds and lived"). Some Sea Folk have much larger clusters of eggs, and a much lower survival rate of said eggs. These children generally aren't named until well after they've hatched, when they've demonstrated they will likely be surviving. Jimmy and Lizzie are actually technically closer to the second option, though they aren't quite either. However Jimmy was the only surviving egg out of the entire God Roe, so Lizzie named him partly out of spite and partly out of desperate loneliness.

I talked a little bit about Names and Titles in Katherine's How To Become an Emperor for Dummies post. The Fae collect names their entire lives, the core of which is their True Name. (Katherine's is Katherine Elizabeth). Fae are not named when they are born, they discover their names themselves. They spend their childhoods going by various nicknames, usually called different things by different people. Based off the relevant relationships. Once they discover their name they "stabilize" and it becomes very obvious to other fae that they have figured out Who They Are.

I have a sort of vague idea of Mezaleans earning a new name after passing through the Mother Tree but nothing concrete there.

Rivendell...Rivendell names are another thing I've adapted from Tolkien's work. It isn't exact but is very, very much based off of it. Elves are given one name at birth and one name before they leave the home for the first time. Their first name is usually given by the parent who carried them and is name given using Foresight (of the vaguely prophetic variety) about Who The Child Will Be. This is not a name that is shared outside of the immediate family, everyone else during this time when it is the only name the child has refers to them as "son/daughter/child of [head of household name]" (They do keep the patronyms as well, though those aren't usually used outside of official documents, once this phase of life is finished) Before they leave the home for the first time, their other parent (or one of their other parents, if relevant) gives them a name based off of observations of who the child is now. This will be the name by which they are introduced to society and the world at large. (These names are often shorthanded as Mother/Father names, though it is worth noting that these terms are more related to roles as opposed to genders, culturally speaking) Of these two names, their Mother/First name is kept private their entire lives, and functions much the same as a True Name, carrying with it a lot of the same power. The Father/Second name is less integral to their identity as a person. For example, Scott Smajor. Scott is his Mother Name and Smajor his Father Name. So Smajor is how most people know and refer to him. Xornoth is actually a bit of an outlier here, and is also the reason i have such settled world-building. Because Xornoth is not their mother name or father name. It is a name they gave themself. Their first two names are, culturally, dead names; in a way that has absolutely nothing to do with gender and everything to do with expectations and perceptions.

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chigirisprincess · 3 months

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　 ˚ ᡴꪫ You Could Be Mine Tonight; Interlude I

— Chigiri Hyōma

⊹ Details. 18+ minors dni, gn!afab!reader, chigiri puts the go in egoist, first meetings, author self insert, selfship lore heavy, reader is italian-american living in italy, set in verona, some italian dialogue, first meetings, ⊹ Run time. 1.4k ⊹ Note. Fawn is back again with yet another series of sorts. This is my selfship lore with mister Chigiri Hyōma and will be expanded upon whenever I am inspired so enjoy! <3

The fair city of Verona fed the romantic daydreamer that crawled into the deep recesses of your chest as a child. In spite of spending your last six months settling in, you couldn’t fathom ever tiring of waltzing through the old, cobbled streets and imagining the lives led by those living over five hundred years ago in the middle ages. Idling wonder if they too ran their fingertips across the smooth, rosy marbled walls. Or, if they gazed upon the stars while resting in the Piazza dei Signori as you did when your red wine tinged evenings drew to a close.

You supposed the reality of those living all those years ago were far more bleak than proposed by the Middle English romances you studied during your undergraduate. Still, it didn’t mean you couldn’t imagine a display of courtly love spilling over the aged edge of Juliet’s balcony; a gallant knight who was far more romantic than the whiny Romeo, and a demure lady who was more akin to a blossomed flower than a person. With the sky, a most remarkable shade of blue– far more dazzling than anything you’d seen back home– and the scent of sweet flowers carried on the breeze, it was difficult not to lose your thoughts within a fairytale-like dream.

A rich waft of freshly brewed espresso rouses you from your thoughts, bringing you back to the small café you’ve made into your home for the afternoon. Sparing a glance back to your laptop where your latest novel sits open, you sigh before snapping it shut. As romantic as Verona was, your fantasies failed to inspire an ending to the chapter you’ve spent the last month working on. You blamed the lack of direction on your recent move, halfway across the world from North America to Europe but in the droll truth you suspected your lack of romantic experience was beginning to impede upon your ability to write a romance novel. Shoving your things into your bag, you offered a wave to the barista before clearing out.

The next building over was calling your name.

It was a small, family owned bookstore that had been passed down at least six generations and resided between two restaurants. The current owner, Signor Fiorentino seemed perpetually miffed by the constant racket amassed by the staff when on break but was always amenable when offered fresh biscotti. Which was precisely why you picked up an extra one at the café in case you decided to head over.

The small bell above the door rings as it opens, announcing your presence, “Ciao signore!” You greet, shuffling through the cramped rows of shelving.

A smile tugs at your lips as you reach the small checkout counter where he sits. Signor Fiorentino is perched upon a well worn stool, thumbing through a copy of today's newspaper.

“Buonasera Signorina,” he grins at the sight of you, his smile growing wider when he takes notice of the biscotti in your hand, “Is that for me?”

You hold your hand out in response, passing it over to him, “You know it is,” you say, resting your elbows on the counter, “So, have you gotten anything new in stock?”

Your hopeful tone dwindles when Fiorentino narrows his eyes at you.

“Buttering me up with sweets are you?”

“What! No!” You frown, “But … I was wondering if you’d heard back about that custom bound copy of Romeo and Juliet?”

The expression he wears tells you he hasn’t. With a sigh, he shakes his head, “The seller says it's on their backlog and they’ll get back to me soon.”

You wear your emotions on your face as if it were your favourite sweater, never one to masterfully disguise the disappointment you felt. It was your greatest flaw that loved to rear its ugly head at the most inopportune moments. Like now. The corners of your mouth dipped into a petulant frown, your bottom lip jutting out. You became a mirror image to the kindergarteners you taught English to. They were cuter than you when they did it.

“Cara mia do not stress!”

Sometimes, he speaks to you as if he were your family. You allow him to far more often than you should. He reminded you of your nonno, you supposed that you reminded him of his children and grandchildren who had long since immigrated to North America. Reaching over the small counter, he rests a weathered, spotty hand onto your forearm.

“I’m not,” you mutter with a small sigh, “I’m just frustrated.”

He gives your arm a sympathetic squeeze.

“I know.”

Returning his smile, you turn to the dozens of book lined shelves in search of something to satiate the burn of disappointment you wished to mask. Your fingers graze against the lip of the dust covered shelves as you pass through them, floating around the shop as though you were a spectre rather than a customer. You settle in front of the stack of mediaeval literature. Pursing your lips, you tilt your head to get a better view of the title, Amorosa Visione. A long, narrative poem. It wasn’t exactly your first pick, you much preferred Middle English romances but you needed to branch out every once in a while. Pulling the book off the shelf, you took a step backwards as you skimmed the blurb printed on the back.

Another step backward causes you to bump into another person.

So engrossed in your reading, you hadn’t noticed they joined you in the aisle. Dipping your head down in apology, you offer them a smile.

They scoff, looking you up and down.

“I’m sorry,” you apologise, hoping they spoke English, “I didn’t see you there.”

His expression only worsens, “Yeah, right like I’m supposed to believe that,” he snips in English, flicking a strand of bright red hair from his eyes.

He turns toward you, standing with their arms crossed over his chest. His sunglasses slip down his nose as he peers at you. You blink in shock, face warming at the sight of him. He was pretty, unfairly so. With long, pretty lashes that frame sharp magenta eyes which cut right through you with his glare. Shaking your head, you remind yourself that he was a jerk who was irrationally annoyed over you accidentally bumping into him.

“I … I don’t understand what you mean,” you frown, “It was an accident, I promise I wouldn’t bump into a stranger on purpose.”

“You don’t recognise me?” The man asks, pushing his sunglasses further up the bridge of his nose with his middle finger.

You shift uncomfortably under his gaze. He seems to pick you apart with his clipped words and harsh stare as if he were given hours to scrutinise each miniscule part of you rather than a few measly minutes.

“Am I supposed to?” You cock your head to the side, “Are you an influencer or something?”

You give him a once over, taking in his attire. He was dressed fairly casually but still looked rather put together. The accent that shrouded his words told you that he too wasn’t from Verona, but nothing in the way he carried himself struck any ounce of familiarity. The arrogance and accusation that lingered in his narrowed gaze seemed to align with your view of celebrities and micro influencers.

Disgust flashes in his eyes,“No, I’m a professional soccer player,” he explains, “Manshine City, ever heard of it?”

“Okay …”

“I thought all Italians were huge soccer fans,” he says with a shrug of his shoulders.

You stifle an eye roll,“That’s a kinda a misconception like how not all Canadians are obsessed with hockey and say “aboot”” your comment doesn’t elicit a laugh like you hoped it would, instead he gives you a strange look, “Besides, even if it wasn’t we tend to be pretty nationalistic.”

“Right.”

A lull passes between the two of you before he speaks again.

“I apologise,” he says, almost begrudgingly, “For assuming you were some desperate fan.”

Biting back a snarky remark, you laughed to yourself. Were all athletes this full of themselves?

“No apology needed.”

He purses his lips before nodding his head.

“Just uh, don’t give the shop owner the same attitude unless you want to be chased out of here with a broom.”

The corners of his lips quirk up into the smallest of smiles, “I’ll try to keep that in mind.”

Tucking your book beneath your arm, you slink out of the aisle with a relieved sigh. You hoped, whatever other soccer players that may have been crawling about this fair city were certainly less egotistical than him.

networks; @houseofsolisoccasum @interstellar-inn

#you could be mine tonight #chigiri hyoma x reader #bllk x reader #blue lock x reader #chigiri x reader #chigiri x you #self ship

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monsterblogging · 8 months

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Quotes from the Pacific Rim commentary re: Guillermo del Toro's aesthetic decisions

"You cannot do world creation without filling in with texture and detail."

...

"People think that world creation - movie, for example - is the big gestures. But it isn't. It's all this small details. Look at the markings. Look at the vehicles that open the doors. Look at the banners and the markings in the crawler that moves the robot. Everything is full of detail. We designed this."

....

"We going to what I call gothic tech, or goth tech. Which is to go right away into a world that is rusting, that is in decay, where you have the concrete is cheap, the paint is chipping off, the armors in the robots is dented, it's sort of pitted and they feel like knights, like these ancient knights, and we start accumulating, for example, atmosphere."

...

"I wanted the movie to be very romantic, but not romantic in the Harlequin novel sense or the romance novel sense of the word. I wanted it to be romantic in its epicness. You know, I wanted it to feel like an opera. I wanted it to feel dramatic. So instead of doing this in a well-lit street in New York I wanted this first fight to happen in an almost like, the middle of a romantic painting, like Caspar David Friedrich is a romantic painter I adore. And I wanted very much for it to happen in the rain in the middle of a tempest in an ocean where the waves are crashing into them. And the water throughout the movie becomes an incredibly complex expressive element."

...

"We're going to go from the biggest, the widest, to the little bug of a pilot crawling out of the helmet. Isolate Raleigh. You know, we isolate Raleigh. I'm telling the story: Look at the markings on his suit, the burn marks on his skin, those are going to become scars that he's going to carry for the rest of the movie. And I'm telling you this is when we started losing. This was the price for arrogance, this was the price for youth, and we're staining the white with red. I'm trying to build a character not just by the work of the actor, but by the storytelling with audiovisual elements."

...

"And look at this, Raleigh's all introduced in this one color, he'd golden, gold colors, and he's all coated in warm greens and earth tones and the light that is bathing him is always golden, and it's about that color coming together with Mako's dominant color, and Pentecost in this case, which is connected with Mako, which are blue."

...

"So this, we come to the scene where they meet for the first time. And I have color-coded this scene entirely in those two colors, in the blue and the ambers. You know, the bright ambers and the blue, the sort of cyan blue. And this is Mako meeting Raleigh, so the entire thing needs to be color-coded like that. And Mako's blue, because I'm making her origin to the kaiju, the kaiju blue, the blood of the kaiju - but also you will see in a few minutes a memory. A memory that is all color-coded in blue and splashes of red in her past as a child. And that blue has stained her hair. Even her hair has this strands of blue because she cannot get rid of that memory. She carries it in her."

...

"We color-coded, for example, the Chinese robot, we color-coded it red and gold and is patterned after medieval armor, and it needs to feel Chinese in essence, it needs to respond to martial arts movements; its musical theme is very strong."

...

"And here again we have now a robot, a Jaeger, that is designed, a mech that is designed to resemble a T-series Russian tank, color-coded like that, with like a cooling tower from a nuclear reactor on top."

...

"And we introduce Striker Eureka, the Australian Jaeger, which is designed a little bit like an all-terrain vehicle and color-coded with the outback camouflage colors and is the most masculine of the robots, of the Jaegers, of the mech, and is very much testosterone-driven."

...

"We talked about the color red; well, here it becomes very important. We have these characters fighting that is very very color-coded to be warm; we have a lot of reddish art direction here. We color-coded this arena in black and red. The stakes, the wood, the machines, the color of the light hitting the machines, the symbols on the wall, everything is permeated with red. Because again, I wanted red to symbolize sort of the heart. And Mako's going to find her heart and Raleigh's going to find his heart, or life, by connecting with Mako. We saw him bleeding - the last time we saw red with any importance other than the Chinese robot was when he was bleeding in the beach."

...

"And again, red coming in and linking these three characters; these three characters are the heart of the movie, you know. And blood for nobility and mortality is what makes us human. And Pentecost and Raleigh and Mako are the heart of the film."

...

"And now we start bringing, literally, bringing the crazy colors into the film. I wanted to color code this movie, bring it as close as possible to a living anime, or a living incarnation of a magazine that was very important for me growing up, which is Heavy Metal with Angus McKie, Richard Corben, Chris Foss, all these guys working with super primary colors, and I wanted to bring that saturation of colors to this, and for that I needed Hannibal Chau to meet Newt in Hong Kong."

...

"In shooting the film, we then came to the final moment and again, these three characters, Mako, Raleigh, and Pentecost, which have existed in a blue-amber world start to come to a red space, you know? This is the first time we used this red space properly in this film. Other than the Chinese robot, we were very careful with not coding anything in red. But now, at the end of the adventure, everybody's coming away. And at the end of the life, at the end of their life, that is Mako, Raleigh, everybody's gonna find this light is red. And now I can talk to you about the way I sort of organized the three fights for Raleigh. I wanted one fight with the kaiju to be the fight where he loses someone. He loses his brother in the beginning. That's where he bleeds red, you know? Then the second fight in Hong Kong is where he gains a partner. He loses a partner in the first fight, he gains a partner on the second fight. And in this final fight, he saves that partner. So, it's a full circle. I show him in the construction area in the beginning sitting in a sort of throne of concrete, if you remember, when he meets Pentecost; he made an incomplete circle. And here he completes that circle."

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mysterymanjoseph · 2 months

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Undercover Misadventures: mysterymanjoseph and a-den-of-demons

Ever since the creation of the 'Galactic Empire' by one time Senator Palapatine, Joseph's home world has been on edge. His people were an independent sort, barely really having anything to do with the Republic when it existed. Now, it seems that a dictator was in charge, and those always wish to control more. So, his homeward began building up their military, knowing in time, Imperial Forces would make their way to them. Joseph had been 'drafted' by the intelligence branch of the home world's military, his past service putting him at the top of the list for some 'special' mission, that being, planting automated sensor pods on isolated planets between the core worlds and the outer rim regions where his people live. Using the cover of a 'independent prospector', gives him reasonable cause to be going to those isolated planets, hoping to 'strike it rich'. So far, all was running smoothy, until at one of the small outposts where he would resupply, and get any instructions through the secure communications network that was set up, he was met by an actual courier, undercover of course. Joseph was handed and actual, physical paper file folder in a sealed paper envelope. Most would think this was a stupid way to send information, but, a lot of times, 'dumb, outdated tech', defeats modern sophisticated types. Taking the file back to his own ship, securing the hatch, Joseph opens the envelope and reads the file. It seems that an Imperial officer, someone high up in communications, is disillusioned with the new government, and has deserted. Joseph has been tasked to find this person, and bring them to the home world for debriefing. Joseph thinks, "I am in no way trained for this sort of thing, coming in hot on a drop ship with a platoon of troops is what I'm familiar with doing, not this sort of 'sneak in and out', operation." "The intelligence people back home must be beyond desperate, and squeezed for time to send this my way." The file details the deserter is likely on the next planet Joseph was going to anyway, and what settlement they were thought to be hiding out in. He thinks, "Well, won't be suspicious for me to go there, already have an approved travel plan from the locals to go there." "How exactly I'm supposed to 'bump into', this officer, and convince them to come with me, that was not in the mission packet, guess I'll have to improvise." Joseph stashes the file in a safe place on his ship, resumes the resupply, then sets about readying his small vessel for takeoff.

@a-den-of-demons

#mara jade

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erazonpo3 · 6 months

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Erazon's Characterisation Essay (Part 1 - Cynthia Edition)

General preface; This is me snowballing on a thought I had earlier about canon v fanon trends given that it's a pretty evergreen topic. Without getting too much into the subject itself, I made the point that you can use the source material as a starting point for analysing characterisation, but in a lot of cases it's highly interpretive; using Pokemon as an example, most of the non-player characters exist to enable the player's autonomy throughout the game's storyline, and only a small handful have their own detailed arcs and backstories.

Therefore if you want to build on characterisation for them for transformative fanworks, you only have a handful of dialogue lines and some environmental storytelling that borders on olympic levels of mental gymnastics. Things like backstory and character motivation needs to be invented, to which end the concept of 'canon' characterisation becomes pretty insignificant in comparison to the story you are trying to tell, and whether or not that characterisation is thematically appropriate and compelling. Everyone is going to have a subjective opinion about the 'essence' of a character, the core traits that make them who they are, and how integral those traits are for it to be a 'canon' or 'fanon' interpretation.

And yet there's still ways to analyse the games to draw some conclusions that aren't always obvious straight away.

I'm going to go into how I draw characterisation for Cynthia for Way Out, but keep in mind that I don't consider my characterisation perfect or the One True Depiction To End All Others etc and so on and so forth. There's things I need to discard in favour of the story– adults in the Pokemon games, including Cynthia, have a pretty laissez-faire attitude when it comes to kids handling crises so that the target audience (kids) can feel acutalised as they play through the story, but it's not always what I consider a core character trait so much as a function of the medium.

I play up a sense of responsibility and duty that isn't really depicted in the games but is nevertheless an easy takeaway in order to give her character a bit more depth and relateability. And when other people take her character in a different direction, I try to keep an open mind about what they're saying about her character in their story, because their story is not a video game for children nor a webcomic, and they will need to do different things depending on her narrative role.

(I don't have to like it, but I'm no less a subjective soul than anyone else).

I also pull here and there from other sources of inspiration, one I've mentioned before is a meta-analysis of how she's treated by the fandom in general, assuming she'd be treated a similar way as a public figure in-universe. A lot of my character work is about peeling back that legendary status and asking who the person underneath is and how she might deal with the pressures of being expected to consistently meet other people's high standards, and how to balance a healthy competitive streak without it becoming toxic.

But more to the point– here's some material exclusively from Platinum that I think collates to a pretty consistent depiction of her character, to keep in mind and interpret any which way, arranged into some key traits.

She is the granddaughter of a village elder in a traditional rural town.

"My grandma has this sort of bossy atmosphere about her. I think you'll recognize her right away. Yes, I'm sure you will. She's the elder of Celestic Town"

An overlooked aspect of her character that I think holds some of the ripest potential for her character is that we know a fair deal about where her family is from, potentially where she was raised. My personal conclusions are:

It is likely she has an ingrained sense of cultural values of humility, respect, duty, and tradition. While she may not be ruled by these traits, they would influence the way she interacts with the world.

Her interest in mythology is likely inspired the mural in Celestic town, and reflects a value of heritage and history.

It's a common 'fanon' that her grandmother was her primary guardian through much of her childhood, which isn't substantiated anywhere (just because we don't meet her parents as NPCs doesn't mean they don't exist) but this idea strengthens the connection she has to Celestic town and emphasises her position as the elder's heir.

Cynthia introducing herself as a trainer and not a Champion suggests humility; she positions herself as an equal to the player as opposed to a superior.

2. She is earnest and sincere

"...The places we are born. The time we spend living... The languages we speak... We are all different. But the presence of Pokémon unites us. We share our lives with our Pokémon and our happiness grows as we all become greater than we were alone. That is why we can battle and trade with anyone we choose..."

This is a reflection of her position as a narrative foil to Cyrus; where he dismisses the importance of emotion and 'spirit', she holds it in high regard. Thus;

She sees strong emotions as the source of her bond to her Pokemon and therefore the source of her success. While it's not to say she's an overly empathetic person, I think it follows easily that is generally emotionally intelligent (generally).

I think she's self-aware about how emotional she can be too, which is to say it's something she consciously embraces despite knowing she comes across a little overly earnest (and cheesy) sometimes.

"I love the sound a piano makes. I savor every note with my entire being. It's not only my ears; my spirit hears the music it makes... Ehehe, I made myself cringe saying that."

3. She is intelligent

"I think I let myself get carried away and talked for far too long. I'm sorry, and thank you"

This feels like a no brainer (ha) but it's also easy to take someone who comes across as emotional and write them off as being illogical or not having the depth for complex thought. To me, her emotional intelligence goes hand in hand with her analytical intelligence.

Her fascination with mythology is one of her defining traits, and her dialogue is the source of much of the lore surrounding the Sinnoh legendary Pokemon.

Her pursuit of knowledge is one of her defining traits; her interest in mythology and the distant past is referenced more frequently by herself and other NPCs than the fact of her being Champion. "My big sister is studying the myths of Sinnoh. She wants to know how people and Pokemon interacted in the days of myths."

As a Champion, I consider that she's very calculating and analytical. Even without the strategic held items given to her in BDSP, her Pokemon have perfect stats and have solid type coverage. It's not something she would accidentally stumble onto.

"When you are facing a Trainer in battle, you can learn everything about them. What Pokemon they have. What moves they've taught. What items they make Pokemon hold."

4. She is kind

"I want you to keep traveling to many far-off places. I want you to keep meeting all kinds of people and Pokémon. I came all the way here just so I could say that to you!"

A Champion in this game being kind isn't really a revolutionary idea, but it's still something I consider very integral, particularly in conjunction with the prior traits; there is diplomacy and there is compassion, and to me Cynthia balances both.

She is something of a mentor figure to the player, giving them the solution to obstacles on multiple occasissions (HM Cut, the Secret Medicine), and imparts a lot of lore to them. Notably she gives them an egg which hatches into a Togepi; while this event doesn't happen in BDSP and Platinum doesn't have the Fairy type, it's still retroactively made more interesting for the fact that Togekiss' modern Fairy/Flying type grants perfect immunity to her Garchomp's Dragon/Ground typing.

Some of the few interactions the player will have with her is giving medicine to the Psyduck blocking the route to Celestic town, and then delivering a charm to her grandmother– it gives an impression that she is regularly invested in small acts of kindness.

5. Other tidbits

Every time she interacts with you as the player, it is always through the lens of an adult with a public position speaking to a child; I take it as a given that all her interactions have a slight amount of professional distance, and a formality she wouldn't have if speaking to an adult friend.

She reveals that she went on a similar journey as the player character after being given a Pokedex by Professor Rowan, which could imply she experienced similar experiences to the established protagonist journey formula.

There's a slight goofiness to some of her dialogue that suggests she doesn't always take herself too seriously. "You've seen that group of Psyduck huddled with their heads in their, uh, hands...?"

It's a pretty common 'fanon' for Cynthia to have known Cyrus in her childhood, but this isn't really substantiated in text; her dialogue towards him would be a lot colder with that context as opposed to a stranger. It's a common headcanon because giving them a history together strengthens their position as foils, but in my opinion it's equally as interesting that Cyrus succeeds as far as he does because he exists in Cynthia's blind spot- she admits she didn't pay enough attention to what Team Galactic was up to, and can only stand in opposition to him ideologically, unwilling to entertain (or empathise with) his perspective. It hints at a certain stubbornness she has when she believes she's right and someone else is wrong.

This is just what I personally glean from the text; it's possible I've missed something that somebody else considers ultimately integral. But I hope that my writing in Way Out speaks for itself in how I apply all this to her character in the story, and why I feel it's important to do so. Cynthia is the character I second-guess the most in her characterisation because she should always be recognisable, even while going through different arcs. Her values, her intelligence, her sincerity, and her kindness are all things that need to be balanced with the needs of the story; how strong she is is just a relative thing to what any particular scene demands.

There's a lot I could still elaborate on but for the sake of at least attempting to keep this (relatively) concise, I wrote all this to highlight how I try to stay on track with consistent characterisation, which may not be the perfect ideal for this character but nevertheless is the best version for my story. There's nobody I hold to a higher writing standard than myself, and I try to constantly ask myself if I'm really writing what's best for the narrative or if I can do something better. I'm not interested in the most canon depiction that exists for another story, I'm interested in what's right for my story.

And uhhhh peace ✌️

#long post #like long long #it's a whole read #but if you like reading do i have good news for you #pokemon #cynthia #characterisation #tangential enough to way out that i can tag it #way out #im also open to discussions about this because it's just my ~opinion~ and again i like to keep an open mind

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traumxrei-archive · 2 years

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【 noble gentlemen; diasomnia 】

— or, the noble gentlemen series, in which the genre of the world is historical fantasy, and you and the twst boys are citizens of a distant magical land !

details: gn! reader, drabbles, can be read platonically or romantically, warning !! mention of blood (sebek) and drinking (lilia)

note: ahhh sorry for being so late on this one :'))) had a busy day or two and i didn't have time to edit n post this until now sjkfdjskf but i hope you enjoy this nonetheless <33

[ part two out of seven in the noble gentlemen series ]

Malleus Draconia. As a citizen of a kingdom he will one day inherit, it was only natural that you knew the crown prince's name. And while the crown prince had never made a public appearance, there were always those that spoke of his prowess in battle as well as his talent in magic. Though the descriptions of him varied, everyone agreed on two things: that the crown prince was a cold and untouchable existence, and he had the characteristic horns of the royal bloodline.

So it happened to shock you when you were taking a nighttime stroll near the palace to see a young man leap over the castle walls.

Startlingly green eyes met yours and you quickly turned to walk away when you heard his voice calling to you, "Wait! I...did not mean to startle you." You looked at him once more, taking in his...horns. Could he be...? No, but what crown prince walked around wearing a simple white shirt and training pants?

He seemed to follow your gaze, scratching the back of his head, "Ah, please don't think badly of me, it gets a little stuffy at the palace after all." He took a few steps forward, a kind smile on his face, "My name is...Mal. Would you let me join you on your stroll?" You agreed to his request.

You guessed that he was some sort of knight in training who snuck out to have fun in the city. And from the way knights trained without rest, you couldn't blame him. Thus started your nightly strolls with the mysterious Mal.

———

Mal was very fascinated by old architecture. He would spend countless hours of your nightly strolls scrutinizing different buildings around the city. He had them all memorized, from the techniques to create the intricate plastering of the Grand Theater, to the way gargoyles are meticulously carved from stone by hand. Much to his delight, you had snuck him over to your estate to see its exterior.

"Your house has simply magnificent gargoyles," He said mirthfully, and it was the most excited that you had seen Mal since you met him. “They will keep the walls nice and clean. And they look a tad bit fearsome don’t they?” You agreed and he chuckled, “They will surely scare away anyone with potential bad intentions, don’t you think?” You…never really thought of it like that. Since then, you made sure to greet the gargoyles whenever you left, thinking of Mal’s words from that night.

———

Mal had surprisingly childish tastes. You assumed it was so when you two had brought ice cream, of all things, on a particularly chilly night. But your hypothesis was proven correct when you brought a tin of cookies to one of your nightly outings. Mal's eyes glittered as you explained that you baked them by yourself the day before.

"It is an honor to eat something made by your hand," Mal gave a wide smile before demolishing all the cookies in one sitting. It was actually quite impressive. You made a mental note to give him more cookies next time. Clearly, a knight's diet deprived him of indulging in sweet foods.

———

Mal...was very popular in the city. He was especially popular with the guards. You had to curse your luck as another guard chased the two of you around a corner. This was happening more and more often recently, but you didn’t understand why. And suddenly, you were weightless. There was a hand at the small of your back, and you looked back to see a secretive smile on the man’s face.

"Apologies, it seems that a bit of magic was needed for that escape," Mal murmured into your ear as you two all but flew over the night sky. The view was breathtaking, but your mind nagged you with a different question: who was Mal really? Would guards really chase a fellow knight through the city so frantically? Was the Mal who was capable of such magic feats really just a simple knight? Or was your first guess of him being the crown prince…really true?

The Captain of the Knights Order was quite a lofty position, and it came with lots of fame. As the ones responsible for the safety of the city as well as the crown prince, there was no question that the name “Lightning Commander Silver” was always met with awe and fondness whenever it was spoken by the citizens of the kingdom. You had always quietly cheered on the Knights Order during the festival, content with being able to support them from afar. But what you weren’t expecting was to accidentally meet the Captain himself.

It was during a lively festival that you first met him; under a tree near the outskirts. Silver hair befitting his namesake, and a relaxed expression as birds frolicked around him. It almost looked like a scene out of a painting. You had faintly remembered that the Captain of the Knights Order was amongst the festival goers but...that wasn't really him, right? And it reminded you of the Vice Captain that was busy yelling around to find “Silver”...so maybe this really was him.

Without thinking about it, you called out to him. The man woke up languidly, as if he knew that you posed no real threat to him. "Hmm...who might you be?" Silver blinked. "Ah, I must've fallen asleep. Sebek's going to get worried... Thank you for waking me." You informed him that the Vice Captain was, in fact, looking for him and helped him straighten up his clothes as you walked back to the festival.

He paused before entering the glittering hall, "Allow me to repay the favor for you in some way." There was conviction in those eyes of his that told you refusal wasn't an option. You swallowed, giving him your word. This was the first time you met the sleepy yet kind Captain of the Knights Order.

———

Sir Silver was good with animals. That was the only way you could explain it, with how animals seemed to flock to him in interest. This proved especially troublesome when your favor to him was to have him help with your garden. It wasn’t long before animals started emerging from the woods, intrigued and overall smitten by the presence of the confused and exasperated knight.

"...I apologize for all the chaos," Silver mumbled bashfully, eyeing the various birds perched on his shoulders as well as the critters now running amok in your garden. "I've only caused you more trouble, haven't I?" You shook your head. It was more than delightful to see so many animals roaming your garden without fear. And besides, watching how eager each creature was to be with Silver was slightly funny.

———

Sir Silver was talented at sleeping. It seemed that the man could fall asleep anywhere and at any time he so wished. Even at the times he didn't expect. Once, you were watching him watering the flowerbed before he stumbled head-first into a wall. You had immediately dropped your book in horror, rushing over to the knight’s aid.

He winced when you cleaned his wound, "...It's a bad habit of mine, to fall asleep at unfortunate times. I’m trying to fix it but it still happens when I get too relaxed..." You couldn't really get mad at him for something he was working hard to prevent. But you were happy to hear that he was more comfortable around you now.

———

As a Knight, it was impossible not to take part in things such as sword fighting competitions. Silver, being the chosen representative of your kingdom, had invited you to come and watch. You came to watch, your curiosity getting the best of you as you had always wondered what Silver would look like when he was in his usual habitat. As his sword clashed with his opponent’s you couldn’t help but think that Silver suited the title of Captain of the Knights Order even more.

You couldn’t get his serious expression out of your head, even as he approached you, “...Is there something on my face, perhaps?” You shook your head, explaining how you thought that the nickname "Lightning Commander" fit him very well.

“...Hmm, I hope it hasn’t startled you,” Silver ducked his head. “Being a knight is my purpose first and foremost after all.” And with that, you found yourself growing a newfound respect for Silver. When he was spending time with you, he was a gentleman, but when it came to his knight duties, you could see his dedication. You thought that Sir Silver was admirable in that way.

Sir Sebek Zigvolt, nicknamed the nation's "Thunder Blade". He was the Vice-Captain of the Knights Order and was famously— or was it infamously?— known for his deep loyalty and admiration towards the Crown Prince. He was also known for his distinctively loud tone of voice, or so people said. And you definitely felt the power of his voice when you first met him.

You were wandering the streets when someone suddenly grabbed your bag and took off. You froze for a moment before starting to give the thief a chase.

That was, until a loud voice almost knocked both you and the thief onto your backs, "YOU! THE THIEF RIGHT THERE! What gives you the right to disturb public order on a day that his Highness has deemed beautiful!"

You watched as the green-haired knight hoisted the thief into the air, throwing him into a pile of straw like it was nothing. The thief seemed to quiver in his boots as the knight picked up your bag.

You thanked the knight and he just scoffed, "Hmph, humans are always so defenseless... Be more vigilant! As a knight of my stature won't be available all the time!" You nodded, wide-eyed, at his words and before you could ask for his name he was gone. From the whispers of the people around you, you realized that you had been saved by the Vice-Captain of the Knights Order, Sir Sebek Zigvolt.

———

The next fateful meeting between you and Sir Sebek was surprisingly at a library. You finally found the book that you were looking for, and just as you were about to grab a step ladder to get it, you saw a hand slipping the very volume you wanted off the shelf.

You turned around, fully ready to complain when a boisterous tone greeted you, "Hmm...so you're interested in this type of literature." You shut your mouth, still confused as to why Sebek was there in the first place.

"It sounds interesting," He said, before finally handing the book to you. "Could I borrow it after you're done reading?" You nodded, still confused as he followed you back to where you were reading. You were even more confused when he pulled out his own book and started reading— but oh well. He wasn't exactly disturbing you. And it was rather nice having a reading buddy.

———

Even if you liked silently reading with Sir Zigvolt, you were still curious about him. Whenever you asked questions, he would always respond with short answers or, his favorite, 'You humans shouldn't be so concerned.' So one day you mustered up the courage to ask him about his rumored favorite person: the crown prince.

Sebek had a proud grin on his face as he talked, "His highness is the most magnificent person! He is kind and considerate, and he has very refined tastes too." It was the most you had heard Sebek talk. Ever.

And he even had more to say, "He advises us on many things, though he seemed to have a hobby of sneaking out nowadays… Naturally, I carve his every word and command into my heart."

You laughed softly at his enthusiasm and Sebek immediately flushed, "H-HUMAN! Do not laugh at a great knight such as I! You were the one that inquired about his Highness—!!" Your ears were going to need to get checked after that outburts... But still, it was nice to see how human Sir Zigvolt was, especially when faced with his favorite conversation topic.

———

Sir Sebek took his duties as a knight very seriously. Once you had approached him while he was patrolling and he had scolded you lightly for it. 'I'm here for the safety of the citizens. We can talk when I have free time, human.'

So when you spotted the telltale green of his hair, you opted not to approach him. Well that was, until you saw someone directing a hateful glare toward him. You moved as soon as you saw a glint of something sharp. You knew it was stupid. You were sure that Sebek could defend against the attack better than you could. But you still pushed the knight away.

"H-human!" Sebek was rightfully startled, before his eyes hardened at the way the blood was trickling down your arm. "You're bleeding... They will pay for this." You clutched at the wound as Sebek drew his sword. There was a fearsome expression on his face as he fought. It wasn't long before he struck, using the flat side of his sword to finally subdue the culprit.

You gulped as Sebek turned to you, a crease between his brows, "HUMAN! Y-YOU ARE STILL BLEEDING! I need to take you to Master Lilia so he can make sure you are alright! And that was foolish–!" You yelled his name as loud as you could, trying to cease his very-loud ranting, lest a crowd started to form around the two of you.

"You...did you just call me Sebek?" He blinked, and you belatedly realized that you forgot to address him by his title. "Well, it's alright, really, but—!! WE NEED A MEDIC!" And after dragging you all the way to the royal clinic, watching the doctor intently as they patched up your arm, Sir Sebek...no, Sebek, finally calmed down.

When talking about the name Vanrouge, one's mind would immediately conjure up the famed war hero of the history books. Once the Queen's most esteemed commander, Vanrouge had disappeared a multitude of years ago. And now, the name Vanrouge was tied to someone different entirely: the Crown Prince's adviser, Lilia Vanrouge. He was quick-witted and knowledgable, and always had a relaxed and regal air when you saw him at public events. And he was well-suited to be the crown prince’s adviser.

The very same adviser that you accidentally spilled your drink all over one fateful night at the bar. You looked at the stain seeping into his shirt in horror while the man in front of you laughed.

"Don't look so pale," He had grabbed a spare towel. "I don't look angry, right?" You nodded and the man brought a hand to his chin, a mischievous smile on his face, "Hey, how about we have a few drinks on you as compensation? My name is Lilia Vanrouge, a pleasure to meet you."

Your head snapped up at his introduction. In the darkness of the bar, it was hard to see his face properly, but now that you were looking at him… You felt faint. You really did coincidentally meet Lilia Vangrouge. Thus started the unconventional relationship between you and the Crown Prince's trusted adviser.

———

Lilia was a lot more free-spirited than you expected. You thought that the life of an adviser would be filled with busy meetings and events, but… He often indulged in street performances and ran around looking for more to entertain himself with. Sometimes he would take your hand, spinning the both of you into a dizzying folk dance.

"See? Isn't it lots of fun?" Lilia's pink hair seemed to glow, especially under the streetlights. "It is nice to be young and the day is still young, so let us play some more." That day, you "played" till your legs hurt and your back ached. But there was a smile on your face so wide that you couldn't bring yourself to be mad at the man.

———

Lilia bore a surprising resemblance to the war hero Vanrouge. You noticed it when you happened to pass by one of Vanrouge's statues in the middle of a grand plaza. You couldn't really pinpoint what it was, but they both had the same…air about them...

Lilia must've noticed your staring because he chuckled, "So you also think I look like that old man? But I do have to say, aren't I a picturesque view of youthfulness? Surely I don't look a day over one hundred?" After a few more prods, you ended up complimenting Lilia's youthful looks in deadpan, all while Lilia puffed out his chest. You questioned to yourself whether or not this man really advised the crown prince whenever he acted like this.

———

When festivals came around, Lilia would always lead the Prince's carriage on horseback. The Lilia you saw was a far cry from the troublemaking prankster you usually spent your time with. Formal wear adorned Lilia's body, and he led the horse with one hand as the other waved regally at the citizens.

When he found you after the parade, he had a big smile on his face, "How was it? I was cool, right?" You clammed up slightly. Seeing him up close was definitely different from seeing him from the crowd."Oh, come on," Lilia pouted and you wondered how many people were staring at the Lilia Vanrouge walking amongst the citizens. "All I wanted was one little compliment from you." Instead of boosting his ego, you promised to buy him a treat from a stall when he was done with his duties. That seemed to satisfy the man and he left you to deal with the people coming up to you asking how you knew the Crown Prince's adviser. What a headache.

[ bonus : how do these gentlemen know each other ? ]

— Lilia and Malleus shared a master-apprentice relationship, however they also consider each other as family. Lilia has been looking after Malleus ever since he was a youngling, so Malleus sees Lilia as a father-figure of sorts.

— Meanwhile in the Knights Order, Silver is the Captain and Sebek is the Vice Captain. Their nicknames are "Thunder Blade" and "Lightning Commander" respectively, because like lightning and thunder, one is rarely seen without the other in battle. This also speaks to their amazing compatibility in terms of power; with Silver's fighting style relying on speed and technique while Sebek's relies on sheer strength and offensive ability.

— Lilia is still Silver's legal guardian! He picked up Silver as a child from the woods, and has been raising him ever since. Although he never forced Silver to learn the sword, Silver long became curious seeing Lilia's old sword collection hanging around their house.

— "Okay, but is Lilia really not Vanrouge, the war hero?" As Lilia would say, he can vouch that he is very young and cute! But if he was to answer honestly, he would say that "One should never reveal all of one's past...it takes away from the mysterious charm, fufufu~"

— Sebek and Silver initially met as children. Silver followed Lilia around when he was younger, and he would often wait in empty drawing rooms for Lilia to be done with work. Meanwhile, Sebek was the son of an influential Dukedom. One day when Lilia was supposed to be taking care of Young Master Zigvolt, he introduced him to Silver instead, saying, "Children should play with each other and be merry!"

— If you're curious, their first meeting went something like this:

Sebek: You! Which family do you hail from! I am Sebek from the Zigvolt Dukedom!

Silver: ...Uhm, I'm Silver. And I think that Father's last name is Vanrouge...

Sebek: V-Vanrouge? Like the war hero?

Silver: Maybe..?

Sebek: How ignorant not to know of the great war hero Vanrouge! Here, let me tell you about him—

[ they instantly became friends because of their love for knights and heroes ]

— (Yes, Sebek's idol before he was introduced to Malleus Draconia's existence was, in fact, the war hero of old, Vanrouge. He still has books about Vanrouge and all sorts of paraphernalia in his childhood room.)

— Malleus started sneaking out of the palace after he figured out that he could boost himself over the wall with magic. And that he could easily cloak himself from the magic sensors by reducing his magical output to zero once he reached the apex— basically, he figured out a way to sneak out and has been doing it a lot more often. Much to the exasperation of Sebek and Silver, who are tasked to guard his room nightly.

— (If you're wondering what Lilia thought about all this...he thought that Malleus was going through his rebellious phase and that it's okay as long as he doesn't get caught by the guards outside the palace.)

thanks for reading ! if you'd like to see more, check out my masterlist, or the rest of the noble gentlemen series >:DD

#/trau writes #malleus draconia #malleus draconia x reader #lilia vanrouge #lilia vanrouge x reader #twst silver #silver x reader #sebek zigvolt #sebek zigvolt x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #twisted wonderland headcanons #ahh diasomnia my beloved #the amount of times i rewrote sections #bc i wanted to do my dragon boyos justice !!!!

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spicerackofblorbos · 8 months

Text

Chapter 2: December

☾ Pairings ➼ Levi Ackerman x fem!mute!Reader (she/her pronouns), set in a modern semi-fictional world

☾ Summary ➼ Due to childhood trauma, you find yourself an adult without the ability to speak. After years of working on it, you have found ways to live without a voice. Now here in your late 20s, you are 5 months in getting used to a new town. On a fateful day in late November, you and your adopted sister visit a local bookstore-café, unaware of the friendships about to blossom. Throughout the months, one friendship in particular develops into something more.

☾ Content/Warnings ➼ fluff, slowburn, oblivious feelings, angst, mention of minor character deaths, trauma, illness, adoption, mentions of fire, disabilities, alcohol use, very light nsfw mentions (to be continued as writing is ongoing)

☾ Author's note ➼ Hey guys! Here's the next chapter, I hope you like it. If you missed the first chapter, you can check it out here! The last one was pretty long but that's because it had to set up a lot of stuff, so this one is a little shorter. The interactions with Levi are short (heh) but I promise the next chapter will have a lot more. Buckle up buttercups.

☾ Word Count ➼ ~5.6k

The town of Jinae started out as a cute crossroads village of sorts. It held only the bare necessities for those traveling from one major city to the next. That meant that small motels, dinky diners, and two-pump gas stations peppered the main road going in and out. A modest residential zone paired with an all-in-one school rounded out the town. Jinae’s purpose was clear; providing the needs to those just passing through.

However, Jinae saw an enormous growth in just the span of 25 years. A pharmaceutical company called Titan LLC sought to place roots in this small village, building a research facility in the hills 10 minutes away from the downtown area. With the prospect of new jobs came more people and more people meant an inevitable expansion to create space for them. Thus, the little village turned into a quaint, bustling town. It was also this company that brought you and Hange into small-town life.

Hange had been a part of Titan’s company for a few years, working in a facility in your hometown. Because Titan was privatized medicine, you were not allowed to know much of what her job entailed. All you knew was that she was a lab technician and spent most of her time studying and working with viruses.

Hange often joked about making zombies, but part of you wondered how much of her statement was a joke and how much of it was wishful thinking. But then she had been given a promotion to head-researcher and they requested that she be relocated to the facility in Jinae. Hange was quick to accept.

Unfortunately for you, their new position is the reason why you found yourself cursing at the intricate filigree mask that dug into your face. It made any attempt to look down at the spread of auction items before you difficult. You glide your fingers across an informational plaque pertaining to an art piece that sat behind it, not really minding what the art piece really was. Your mind wandered to the argument you and your sister had a couple weeks ago.

For context, Jinae hosts a winter gala every year as a way to boost community through the networking of big and small businesses alike. All proceeds from the gala’s events, tickets included, would go into improving the town. But, in more recent years Titan had become one of the town’s biggest benefactors and subsequently the gala’s biggest sponsor. Hange was pretty wishy-washy with the details, but they mentioned that part of the proceeds now goes into Titan as funds for their future projects. Of course, it made you suspicious, but it was not the reason why you were so upset at the time.

This was the first Christmas Eve that you were not home with your family. Generally, by this time you would be lounging around with your other siblings, drinking hot cocoa and watching silly little holiday movies. Hange was upset about that too but with her new position, their attendance at the gala was mandatory. Titan had mentioned something about making the company personable and being a part of the community. You understood for the most part, but you were still frustrated that you were not wearing soft pajamas and were instead tripping over a dark, floor length evening gown.

The thought of the previous conversation makes you huff as you continuously make your way through the auction items, again not really taking note of the piece before moving on to the next. You’ve heard of silent auctions before but have never seen one in person. It was quite strange to you, but you quickly find it’s an interesting concept as no one really had to interact with anyone else. After about the 20th display, your eyes start to glaze over. You think maybe your time would be better spent elsewhere, but then your eyes catch a familiar donor’s name on a plaque card.

Were they here?

You lean over to take a closer look at the small text on the card.

“To You, 2000 Years From Now: A History of Ymir” - First Edition - Author: Frieda Reiss Graciously donated by No Regrets Café

You peek at the item behind it. It’s a light blue hardcover book, no more than maybe 300 pages. The cover was canvas with gilded text. In the center sat an embossed trunk with several branches shooting off in a myriad of directions. It reminded you of a leafless tree. You were not very familiar with the goddess Ymir due to the lack of religious background your home had growing up. But you did pick up bits and pieces as you got older, so you at least recognized the name.

Lost in thought, you straighten up and take a step back. As you do, you’re knocked forward as you collide with something behind you. A cold liquid splashes down your exposed back making you gasp in surprise. When you turn around, you’re faced with a very angry man dabbing a cloth at his wine-stained dress shirt. He stares at you furiously and you feel your face heat up in embarrassment.

“Can you watch where you’re going?! This is a very expensive shirt!” He screeches at you. His sudden volume startles you, causing you to flinch. Hands shaking, you attempt to unclasp your clutch to reach for your phone.

“I don’t want your money! I want an apology! Do you know how long this will take to get out?!” His round spectacles flash at you as he scowls. He jerks towards you with his hand up in an accusatory point at your chest.

You manage to fish out your phone but your tremoring, sweaty hands cause your phone to slip out and hit the ground with a loud ‘thwap��. At this point, everyone around is staring at the loud scene and whispering to each other. You look back up at the man, frustrated tears threatening to brim over. With no way to communicate, you’re reminded of the times when you were a child. You ball your fists in an effort to hold yourself together, nails digging into your skin.

Suddenly you see someone bending down in front of you and picking up your phone. Standing up, they peer up at you with familiar sharp, gray eyes. A breath hitches in your throat as you immediately recognize him. He wore a half mask covering his scarred side, but you knew instantly it was him. He observes your face intently and you’re not certain if he recognizes you.

“Excuse me, sir. I’m in the middle of something. Would you kindly move?” The man sneers. Levi narrows his eyes at the voice and spins around to face the tall stranger.

“No, I don’t think I will. Apologize to the lady.” Levi’s voice is dry and devoid of emotion.

“I beg your pardon?” The man’s face contorts in bewilderment.

“Then beg.” Levi folds his arms across his chest and glowers hard. When he’s only given a shocked silence in return, he continues, “Apologize to the lady, I won’t ask again.” His voice is now icy.

“Well, I never...” Blanching, the man mumbles a ‘sorry’ before stumbling away.

“Oi! Hydrogen peroxide and cold water on that stain immediately!” Levi calls out to the man. Without checking to see if the man heard him, he rounds on you. Your mouth sat agape as you stared down at him. His gaze is still hard as he inspects your face. When your tears start spilling over and you choke on a sob, his eyes widen in surprise. He steps forward right as you pull back, holding your arms up to stop him.

Through blurry eyes, you spot the French doors separating the ballroom from the rest of the convention center and rush towards them for a quick escape. You run through and down a few hallways, a loud bang resonating behind you as the heavy doors close. You almost don’t notice the hurried heavy set of footsteps following you.

You slump down on the first bench you see, curling up on yourself against the wall. You notice how badly you're shaking, and your tears come even faster. Clenching your dress in fists, you attempt to take deep breaths as you hang your head low, staring at the floor. The bench shifts as Levi sits next to you. He hands out your phone as well as a white handkerchief for you to take. You do so without giving him a second glance, taking the cloth to dab the wetness from your eyes before shoving it right back into his hand. You note the black coloration staining the white from your makeup.

How unbelievably embarrassing this is for you. You’re not able to speak up for yourself, then you’re humiliated by all the criticizing stares. And now you’re practically falling apart in front of someone you still hardly know. You didn’t want Levi to see you like this and it made you angry at how pathetic you felt. You open your notes app and type out a quick message.

‘I didn’t need your help.’ You don’t even look up as you hand him your phone. He quietly scoffs at you.

“Huh? What do you mean you didn’t need help? You were visibly distressed. And that asshole would not leave you alone.” He places your phone back in your open, awaiting hand. You snatch the phone from his grip before he lets go of it, your fingertips brushing across his causing him to flinch.

‘I’m not some damsel in distress for you to save. It wasn’t your place, and you don’t get to decide what you think I need or want.’ Frustration flares in your chest as hot tears threatened to fall yet again. You turn your head away in case they do. He digests your message in silence, the only things heard were the muffled sounds of the orchestra and your sniffles. What you don’t notice is the shot of pain that flashes across his face before falling back into his neutral expression.

“Tch, I don’t know why you’re acting so defensive; I was just trying to help. Maybe show some gratitude, brat.” He snaps back.

Your head whips up to glare at him. Levi’s posture was much more closed off and defensive than before. His hair is slicked back, and he wore a simple black suit with a white cravat in place of the usual bowtie. He's scowling at you, unamused. The audacity makes that same frustration in your chest bloom into a fiery blaze.

‘Are you being serious right now?’ You practically throw your phone at him, your anger now evident on your face.

“As a matter of fact, I am. I’m not the one who can’t communicate. Why are you even here?” His eyebrows furrow into a knot to match your furious expression, voice icy again. He shoves your phone back into your palms and you’re already typing away.

‘I can communicate just fine, asshole. I’m not about to thank you for something I did not need. And for the record, I didn’t even want to be here!’

“Why did you even come then?!”

‘Why did you?’ Your phone skids across the floor from the excessive throwing of your phone, you’re not sure who threw it.

You bolt to your feet at the same time as him, frosty expressions aimed at each other. The tension is so thick it could be cut with a knife. You hear waves crashing in your ears as your pulse races from the heated argument, chests rise and fall with heavy breathing. The past month, you two had gotten along, but now it felt as if you wanted to strangle him.

“My little strawberry!! Where oh where did you run off to??” the shrill voice of your sister comes echoing down the hallway. Without giving Levi a second thought, you turn on your heel and start heading towards where the voice came from, picking your phone up from the floor as you go. You clutch your dress in both hands and pull it up to keep yourself from tripping on it, not caring that your worn-out combat boots were peeking out. There were definitely a few tears escaping from your eyes, rolling down your face and onto the floor as you stalked through the halls.

Who did Levi think he was, scolding you like that. You two barely knew each other, so how could he assume that you needed help. He never took time to ask anything about you, save for those few questions at the bar a few weeks ago. You’ve only seen him a handful of times since then; It became the new normal to see you and Hange hanging out with the co-owners of the ‘No Regrets’ café after hours. Even then, Levi continued to be the man of few words. He’d offer grunts or scoffs in return for conversation in between sips of tea. And truly it never bothered you. But that also meant you and Levi had never had a real conversation. You knew nothing about him, and he knew nothing about you.

You almost run headlong into a wall of a human as you round the corner, completely lost in thought. They catch you before you tumble backwards and fueled by the argument mere moments ago, you slap their hand away. You stare up at sky-blue eyes boring into yours and instantly regret it. You sign a quick apology, looking away from Erwin’s piercing gaze. He only examines you with silent consideration.

‘If you’re looking for your ass of a friend, he’s back there.’ You sign to him stiffly.

“Oh, well, I was actually looking for you. Hange needs you for something... are you okay?” Erwin asks softly. You wipe at your tears with the back of your hand, continuing to avert your gaze. As if that was answer enough, he says nothing else. Leading the way, he starts walking in what you could assume to be Hange’s direction. You follow close behind, staring at the back of his shoes as you went. You both walk in silence, and you mentally thank him for it. Once you step back into the ballroom, you spot a familiar frazzled brunette conversing with one of her coworkers.

“Hange!” Erwin waves them over and they hold up a finger. After a few minutes they bound over and wrap you in a tight hug.

“Oh my lovely, I heard about what happened and when I tried to find you, I couldn’t! Where were you?” She pulls away from the hug and studies your face. Their look of relief is suddenly replaced with a look of deep concern.

‘Can we go home now?’ You sign to them before they can say anything, pleading with your eyes.

“Well, I need to make a few more rounds but, I suppose we can leave. Give me about 15 minutes and then we can head out, okay?” They grab your hand and squeeze it reassuringly. With a reluctant nod they run off, leaving you with Erwin. You wrap your arms around yourself, and a heavy sigh escapes your lips. A couple moments of silence pass until his deep voice breaks it.

“I don’t know what happened but try not to be too harsh on Levi.” You glance up at him but he’s not facing you, instead he’s surveying the crowd. He continues, “Levi has a rough demeanor. He may not always know how to handle emotions properly, his included, so I would caution you not to take it personally. In truth, he did not want to be here. I’m the one who dragged him out to make pleasantries with other businesses.”

You don’t really know what to say to that, so you don’t. You still felt inklings of anger lingering in your body; you weren’t ready to let it go. To be and feel so humiliated in front of Levi was too much and you hadn’t had time to process it. Your heart squeezes as you remember the way Levi looked at you before you ran out of the ballroom. Something had startled him. Did your emotional reactions disturb him in a way he wasn't expecting? It could explain why he was so brusque with you.

You glance up at him as he turns to you. You explore his face while you attempt to figure out what it is you wanted to say. Erwin’s eyes were bright and inquisitive, and it struck you how much of an antithesis he was to Levi. Erwin’s warm, soft nature clashed heavily with Levi’s cool, blunt personality. While Erwin was a summer breeze, Levi was a brewing storm. Whereas Erwin felt like a radiant sun warming you through the bone, Levi felt like a raging bonfire with flames threatening to lick at your skin and leave burns. Levi was not welcoming in any capacity and yet you were drawn to him like a magnet.

‘He’s very stubborn, isn’t he?’ You sign at him finally. The blonde man chortles at your deadpan expression.

“He very much is and based off what I know about you in the short time I’ve known you, I would say you’re the same.” He winks at you with a grin. You huff as you fold your arms across your chest in defiance.

You wonder if that was an insult or compliment. You haven’t given much thought to the possible similarities and differences you both had, though you didn’t expect to be so explosive together. Whether it was just bad timing or you two just didn't get along as well as you thought, you didn't know. But what you did know was that you wanted to be home as soon as possible and out of this suffocating gown. Your eyes wander around the ballroom to try and find where your sister went off to. The only sights you see are people mingling and laughing, the dancing all but forgotten. Levi hadn't come back yet, and you felt your heart tug at the thought of him again. How frustrating he was to you.

Finally, you spot Hange coming towards you with a wide smile, her jacket already pulled on with yours in hand. She must have stopped by the dinner table to grab yours on the way back. You step in to meet them halfway, shrugging on your coat the second she hands it off to you.

"Well Erwin, I'm afraid we must part ways again. Keep me updated on your travels tomorrow, yes? I'd hate to find out you went out in blaze of glory by sliding off the highway." Your sister jokes as she walks past to give Erwin a playful punch on the arm.

Travels?

You spin around and raise your eyebrows at him as you sign, 'You're going out of town too?'

"I am, I'm going to visit my family for the holidays. I hear you will be doing the same as well. So, you," Erwin pats Hange's head with fondness and continues, "better let me know when you both arrive safely to your destination. And I will do my best to do the same." He flashes you one of his glittering smiles.

'What does Levi have planned for tomorrow?' You can't help but ask. You internally kick yourself for your curiosity.

"As usual, he's planning to open the cafe for a little bit in the morning and then he's going to visit his - someone close to him." Erwin shoots you an inquisitive glance, the corners of his mouth twitching as he responds.

Levi working on Christmas seemed a little excessive to you and you speculate that those dark circles under his eyes were due to a workaholic nature. But the last part bothered you more than you cared to let on; Who is it that he had plans to see?

"I know it's only been a month but that sounds like such a Levi thing to do. I think since the cafe will be open, we'll stop in to get a boost of caffeine before heading out. What do you say, my darling?" Hange wraps her arm around your shoulders and pulls you close. The thought of being near Levi again after what just transpired makes your stomach flip. In an effort to conceal your discomfort at the idea, you just roll your eyes and nudge your sister with your elbow.

"It won't be a long stop I promise, then we can get to mom and dads in no time!" It seemed to work on Hange because she took your annoyance as taking too long to get home.

After quick goodbyes and safe travel wishes, you find yourself staring out in the winter night as Hange drives down well-lit streets. The lamps flash on your face every other second as you pass them, your arm is propped up against the door’s console with your hand cradling your chin while you stare out. It's silent between the two of you for a while until Hange pipes up at a red light.

"So, what happened between you and Levi?"

Your head whips around so fast that you hit it against the window and your sister guffaws. You wince as you rub at the sore spot. She's staring straight at you with a sparkle in their eyes. Their enthusiasm makes you think she's looking for a specific answer, but you won't play that game. Turning to face them so they can see you clearly, you do the biggest eye roll you can muster.

'It's nothing.'

"It doesn't seem like nothing. You were crying before Erwin brought you to me. Plus, Erwin texted me what he thought happened. I just want to know your side."

'It's nothing.' You repeat more forcefully.

"Well alright then, missy." Hange teases, dropping the conversation. The light turns green, and the car starts off again on the wet pavement. You notice it had started to snow, that big fluffy kind of snow that stuck to the windows where you could see the little snowflakes if you looked close enough before they melted away.

You turn back in your seat and huff. You were not as angry as you were before, but irritation still scratched at you. You were tired of thinking about Levi tonight. The only thing you wanted on your mind was the warm bed waiting for you just 20 minutes away. But you should have known that getting that silver-eyed man out of your brain was futile. It didn't matter that other people kept bringing him up, all you could see was him.

"Erwin told me it's his birthday tomorrow." Hange mumbles quietly, causing your ears to twitch as they pick up what was being said.

You only glance at them through a side eye, afraid your face would give away any indication of that statement bothering you. You bite your cheek and look back out the window at the passing assortment of buildings. Would he be alone on not only Christmas but on his birthday as well? You then remember Erwin mentioning something about him going to see someone close to him; was it a girlfriend? At least he wouldn't be alone. But that just bothered you even more.

'God, he is so frustrating.' You think. You press your forehead against the cool glass, relishing how it felt against your warm skin.

When what felt like the 100th customer had asked him why he was working today instead of spending time with his loved ones, Levi's eye twitched. Like with all the others, he slid their order to them and turned around without so much of a scoff. Today's traffic was busier than he anticipated, and it made him antsy. He only planned to be open for a couple of hours but with him being the only one in the shop he didn't have a chance to flip the signs off quick enough. Luckily the clientele didn't stick around, opting to take their orders to go before they travelled wherever the hell they were going to.

He was in the middle of steaming milk when Hange walked in with a small box and a huge smile. For once there wasn't a line, so they leant up against the register while he worked on the lattes for the couple waiting at the end of the bar. Not a single word was said as she just stared holes into his skull.

"If you're just going to sit there and say nothing, will you at least go unplug the open sign for me. I'm closing." Levi requests as he shoves the cups to the couple. They mumble a ‘happy holidays’ to Levi before shuffling out the door, Hange locking it behind them.

"Well Merry Christmas to you too, Shorty." They tease as they slide up to the register again. Their eyes were shining brightly behind their glasses as they beamed a smile down to him.

"What do you want, Four Eyes?"

"Well for starters, I'd like a sugary English breakfast tea latte and the boldest coffee you have. Both mediums please! Aaaaand," she pulls out the small box she came in with out from behind her in a dramatic flourish. "This is for you." She places the box gently out on the counter and slides it forward.

"What the hell is that?" he asks unamused as he rings up the orders. Breakfast Tea? Does that mean you're out in the car right now?

"It's a box!"

"Well obviously, why is it here?"

"It's for you, dumbass. And before you say anything, no it's not from me."

There's a deafening silence as Levi processes what Hange says. ‘Not from them’ meant logically it would have had to come from you. That very thought makes his stomach somersault. Hange starts rifling through their bag as Levi takes the box and places it behind him on another counter.

"Don't worry about it, it's on the house." Levi mutters as he walks away to start on the drinks, his mind wandering as he went into autopilot again. If this box was really from you, did that mean you weren't mad at him anymore? Especially after last night, you bestowing him a gift was the last thing Levi expected. He felt a pang of guilt, not a lot but enough to make him regret some of the words he chose to spit at you. But then he remembers that defiant stubbornness of yours. It really grated on him, and it made him want to fly out of that door to confront you right then and there. He shakes his head at the thought.

Levi finishes pouring a heap of sugar in the tea in front of him, making sure to be precise with the amount. His mind flits to the memory of your first visit to the café so long ago. Sliding on the heat guard, he then places it next to Hange’s steaming coffee.

“Thanks, Shorty.” Hange picks up both cups and gives Levi a wink.

“Tch, just get out of my café, will you? I have somewhere to be.” Levi pulls off his apron and hangs it up on the hook by the back wall. With his back turned, he hears Hange shuffling behind him. “What now?”

“Nothing. It’s just,” they pause. “You two are just so alike, it’s scary. Stubborn and too proud to ask for help.” When Levi doesn’t say anything back, the doorbell rings then he’s left with silence again.

After stepping over quickly to lock the door, he wipes his hands on a towel and saunters over to the box shining in the afternoon sun. It was a navy-blue rectangular container, about 6 inches in height. Golden constellations wrap around the whole thing, ones he could make out easily. On top sat a tule bow and a note.

Thanks.

Nothing else.

Levi clicks his tongue and pops the lid off carefully. Inside sat something small and metal. He gently pulls it out with just his fingertips and upon a closer inspection, he’s shocked to find it’s a can of loose-leaf tea. Specifically, an herbal blend that’s supposed to help with relaxation and sleep. A sudden explosion of emotions came crashing down on him. Levi places the can back into the box and sets it back down before leaning against the counter behind him to steady himself. Something you had said to him a month ago reverberates in his head.

‘Words are not always needed to convey intent.’

What was your intention with this, Levi contemplates to himself.

He wonders if you like the tea.

Half an hour later, Levi pulls up in the parking lot of the town’s general hospital. The lot was sparse, so he was able to get a good spot right at the front. He grabs the bouquet that rested gently in the passenger seat then sets out into the cold wind, heading for the visitor entrance.

“Ah, Mr. Ackerman, welcome back and Merry Christmas.” the receptionist calls out to Levi as he steps in the sliding doors. Levi just nods in acknowledgment as he approaches the counter, doing his usual routine of signing in and taking a visitor tag.

“How is she doing today?”

“She’s coherent and very much looking forward to seeing you.” She smiles up at him. Levi just hums and starts in the direction he’s traveled many times before. An elevator and a maze of hallways later, he stops in front of a familiar door and raps softly against the wood.

“Come in!” an airy voice calls out. With that, he opens the door gently and enters the room. The curtains were wide open which let in warm rays of sunshine. The whites in the room were illuminated by it, giving a very angelic glow to everything. A pallid woman sat in a bed, propped up with many pillows, and she stares lovingly to the raven-haired man standing with her favorite flowers.

“Levi.”

“Hi mom, Merry Christmas.” He shuts the door behind him and limps over to the chair by her bed. He places the bouquet on her lap in which she scoops them up right away to sniff them. She sighs in contentment at the sweet smell. She places them on the table next to her, promising to get a vase for them when he leaves. Then she turns back to her son and pulls one of his hands into her own and cradles it softly.

“It’s good to see you. How are you doing today?” She squeezes his hand gently, and he stares up into eyes that match his own.

“I’m fine. I just saw you a couple days ago, you know.” Levi rolls his eyes at her, but a genuine smile breaks out on his face. “But how are you?”

“It’s a good day today, I think. Your uncle came by earlier but had to run off for something work related.” She waves her hand towards a large stuffed dog that sat in the corner. It had a red hat flopping in its smiling face.

“Tch, of course he did.”

“Don’t be so hard on him, Levi. Besides, he helped me get this for you.” She pulls away from Levi’s hand then reaches for one of her bedside tables. She pulls out a small, gift-wrapped package from a drawer and hands it to her exasperated son.

“Mom, I said I didn’t want anything.”

“I know but it’s your birthday and I’m your mom, so open it.”

Levi rolls his eyes again and unwraps the paper with precision, opting to pull at the tape instead of ripping it off in one go. It’s a silver metal frame with sparrows flying around the border, a picture of his mom and him when he was just a toddler inlaid in the middle. A moment of them laughing with each other as she squeezed him in a bear hug, frozen in time. He grips the frame in both hands with care.

“Kenny helped you with this, huh?” Levi swallows down his feelings, holding the frame close.

“Well, the picture is mine, but he helped with the frame. Who knew that man had taste?” she chuckles softly.

“Thanks mom, I’ll put it somewhere special.” Levi unzips his messenger bag and carefully places it in a secure pocket. Then he grabs a thermos he prepared before leaving the café, full of fresh black tea. He pulls out two teacups as well and pours the tea in each before handing them off.

“You’re too sweet to this old lady.”

“Tch, you’re not that old.”

“Either way, I love you, my little Levi.” She takes a delicate sip from her cup as she settles back into her pillows.

“Yeah, yeah.” Levi does the same with his teacup, staring out into the winter landscape through the window. It had started snowing again. He didn’t realize it, but his eyebrows furrowed as his mind wandered back to you. Were you safe?

“Did something happen?” Her question breaks Levi out his reverie. He almost chokes on his tea, but he straightens himself up and clears his throat.

“No. Not really. Just trying to figure someone out. They remind me of her.” Kuchel just hums in response. He continues quickly, “I brought some books, but I also have a couple of movies with me too. What do you want to do tonight?”

Kuchel places the now empty teacup on her lap and thinks for a minute before relaxing back into the bed with her eyes closed.

“Will you read to me?”

Levi nods and reaches down to pull out a book about a mystical land with complex creatures and a band of misfits finding a family in one another. A small smile tugs at Levi’s lips as he curls up in the chair and starts reading, feeling at home.

☾ Previous Chapter: November ☾ Next Chapter: January

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