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maliciouslycreative · 3 years

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How I played damage control to an anti in a small anime fandom and may have led to her ultimate downfall

I know I had a really nice write up of this at one point but oh well. I’ll spill more of the tea in this one because honestly the tea was so hot.

There are a few things that I have to give context to first. Gaia online was like THE mega forum of the 2000s, you made a little avatar and through posting and doing other activities on the forum you made money to buy clothes for your avatar. There were forums for everything but the fannish portions were really what drew in most of the people. The anime I was into was Beyblade. It was a shonen anime about fighting with tops that were possessed by the spirits of magical creatures. The story was honestly pretty average but the characters were fantastic and the fandom is to this day still one of my favourites. The series had a primarily male cast and didn’t even have a female lead until the second season. This led to the fanfic for the English fandom being about 70% canon/OC, 10 % canon m/f, and 20% slash. The most popular character in the English fandom was by far Kai Hiwatari, the loner badboy of the team.

Also before we get started I would like to add that one of my best friends was neck deep in this and the two of us were more or less fandom married. This is the same friend that I fake dated, had feelings for, and she nearly got me into kpop in 2011 so like if you haven’t read that story please read it too because it will give you a good idea of how stupid I am and how much of a fanfic I have truly lived.

To set the stage I was 16, soon to be 17 when I joined the fandom and it was 2004. In September of that year I wrote a humour longfic that became an absolute smash hit and I found myself somehow fandom famous. It was around this time that I joined Gaia online. I made my little avatar and immediately went looking for the beyblade thread so that I could make new friends. I found the main thread, made my little introduction and at the end of it mentioned that I was a slash writer but I supported all ships. This is where I met C. She had declared herself the authority on Beyblade in these parts and I had just committed the crime of mentioning slash which was very obviously not canon and we did not discuss in this thread because we only discussed canon things. I was like well that’s a bit severe but like sure whatever I just want to hang out and have fun.

Oh boy did I have no idea what I was in for.

C was a year older than me and unfortunately that made her older than the majority of the fans at the time. Her favourite character was Kai, and she was not shy about talking about this fact. She stanned Kai above all other characters, and often at their expense. She was also a fanfic writer of a popular canon/OC series. Actually, she was so full of herself that she didn’t even call herself a fanfic writer, no her stories were in fact novels and were apparently very good. I never read them. But more on that later.

Eventually the slash fans got tired of her being rude to us in the general thread so we made a Beyblade slash thread. There was a core of like 8 or so of us and we honestly had sooo much fun. When C would be too unbearable in the main thread the people from there used to come over to our thread and we’d chat with them about non slash stuff because we were honestly all multishippers and just wanted to have fun. We’d get comments like “wow, I’ve had more pleasant canon het ship discussions in the slash thread than the regular thread”. We never worried about C coming over and getting upset about comments like this because she refused to be associated with anything related with slash lmao.

I tried my best to keep the peace between C, myself, and the rest of the fandom because ultimately I hate being in fandom drama. I just want everyone to have a good time. I’m a people pleaser. Unfortunately my newfound fame put me in the awkward position of being the most fandom popular person in our small community aside from C. Virtually every fan that read fanfics that came into our thread knew one of us or the other by reputation and C HATED this. Especially because people would come in to the thread, recognise me and go “oh my goodness I love your fanfics!” and I’d be super sweet with them and it’d lead into “I can’t believe how nice you are, I love you” which would lead to us crying at each other. This was not the kind of fan interaction that C got, no her fans were more kind that were there to praise her and worship her like a deity that had blessed them with some gift. Rarely did they tell her how kind she was.

Back in the mid 2000s there were really commonly those commercials (usually by Christian organisations) asking people to sponsor say children in Africa or to help build schools or provide drinking water. You all probably know the ones; know the language that they used in those commercials. My fandom wife, who I suppose I shall call wifey because yes we were THAT couple back then, once said that C described her fics like those people described donating money to save the lives of Children in Africa. So we used to joke that her fics were so good they’d save lives in Africa. Looking back at it all, she almost had a very fundamentalist Christian approach to bringing people into her fanfics. She of course tried to get all the slash people into reading it. None of us read canon/oc fic mostly due to our poor treatment at the hands of their fans and creators. Getting fed up I one day told her that if she would read any one of my fanfics that I would read the entirety of her novels. Yes, I was willing to commit to read a couple 100k of canon/oc fanfic that I’d never touch normally if she would even read one of my 1k 1 shots. Heck, I had a fic even that shipped 2 minor characters so she didn’t even have to sully herself reading about one of the main characters. It was honestly a good deal in her favour. I kept this up until the day we all left the fandom. Sometimes I do wonder if her fics were even ¼ as good as she claimed, but I will never know because she refused to read my fics.

She wasn’t all bad and a tyrant all the time. As long as people kept the conversations on track and didn’t come in to the thread saying things like “KAI IS SO HOT ND T3H BEST N I AM GUN 2 MARRY HIM” she stayed mostly civil. It was always hilarious watching InuYahsa or Naruto fans try to come in and bad mouth Beyblade because they’d unleash the dragon and C was great at chasing off undesirables in the thread.

The real apex of goings on though on Gaia was the guild drama. So guilds were like exclusive themed mini forums within Gaia. Anyone could buy one and run it however they want, as long as it still adhered to Gaia’s ToS. C of course was the owner of the only Beyblade guild. The fandom wasn’t really big enough to support 2 guilds so we just kind of let it go. Technically she allowed people to post slash fanfics but like everything had to be explicitly tagged and there was absolutely no slash RP. Wifey and I controlled a handful of minor characters together in the forum RP and definitely used to try to push the boundaries a little bit. Some ambiguous flirting here, a stray comment there. It was such a fragile balance though because C was heavy on the ban button. The active portion of the guild was just people that were in the cult of C and worshipped her writing.

Understandably the other slash fans and myself were getting disheartened by this. So we pooled our funds together and decided that we’d open a second guild that though it was run by slash fans we would welcome anyone into our ranks. We just wanted to have a fun place for everyone to hang out, and to hopefully run a few events out of. In hindsight, we should have seen what would happen. When we opened the guild, with me as the guild leader, it was like somebody blew up the whole dam protecting the delicate ecosystem we had cultivated. Every single person in the Gaia fandom that was not a zealous follower of C applied to be in our guild and left her guild. We of course figured that we’d attract some of the gen population but we did not expect to accidentally poach all of it. All of the moderators were getting messages from people thanking us for giving them a place where they could say whatever they wanted without fear of getting their faces ripped off or banned.

C lost her shit. She was so mad that we went behind her back to ruin her guild. We literally had to show her posts in the very public slash thread that we had been planning this in public and that it was not to ruin her life. We just wanted a place where we could freely post slash. The two of us had some spicy comments back and forth and then she dropped an absolute bombshell on me. Since Gaia’s mail system is terrible I unfortunately no longer have exactly what she said but it was something along the lines of “Ok, you win. I’m going to close my guild.”. Us slash fans had never been doing this to win anything. We had never been competing. We just wanted a safe space to be ourselves.

C never joined our guild. The fandom slowly faded out within the next year anyway. We weren’t getting new content so naturally people just drifted into other fandoms. C kept up with the main Beyblade thread for a lot longer than most of us but eventually that eventually faded into obscurity too.

I learned a lot about fandom bullies from those days. But honestly the thing that stuck with me the most out of everything was that if you provide a positive safe space for people they will flock to it. It may seem like there are so many hostile people out there, but there really aren't. They're the minority but they just make sure that their voice is the loudest. The best way is to ignore them and just do your own thing. The bullies just want attention and if you don’t give it to them and prove to them that their opinion doesn’t matter to you then they’ll move in and find something else to yell at.

#malicious musings #stacey's adventures in fandom drama #lol #honestly it was such a fucking wild time #if i think of any other specific instances of drama i'll add them #god i wish i had screenshots of some of what went on #but sadly going through archived gaia posts is easier said than done

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imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl · 4 years

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The Perfect Bad Boy (Pt. 16 of 18)

Pairing: Billy Hargrove X Reader

Word count: 3 K

Summary: Working as a lifeguard in the Hawkins Community Pool, you try to fit in after moving from New York. Things were going pretty well when you notice you've been under someone's stare. Billy Hargrove, Hawkins' bad boy, has been staring at you since day one. You never intended to have anything to do with him, judging by the reputation he has. But Billy won't leave you alone, determined to show you his feelings are different this time...

As if your heart flooding you with confusing feelings wasn't enough, there are weird, strange animals lurking in the woods... But those have to be just part of the wild live of the woods surrounding Hawkins... Right?

<- Previous part (15)

Next part (17) ->

{Stranger Things Masterlist}

The Loss Of A Friend

You've never been to a funeral. Well, you did, but you were a kid and you didn't know the family friend who was being buried that day. In your child's mind, you didn't get why everyone was wearing black, in uncomfortable silence, crying all day long. You remember clearly that a blue bug got your attention, making your eyes follow its every move, making you smile despite the sad atmosphere.

It couldn't be more different today.

As the coffin is lowered into the ground, where Jason will forever rest now, you hold Billy's hand, the soft fabric of your black dress tickling your tights. You barely feel it though, all your sensations resumed to the weight in your chest, crushing, squeezing your ribs, smashing your heart.

You suddenly remember the day Monica introduced you to Jason. It was the Saturday before you started working at the pool, in the parking lot of Starcourt Mall. He had his little brother on one arm, and the girl walking beside him, tugging on the hem his shirt.

“So that's the new girl.” He said, a smile spreading across his lips as he reached out his hand for you to shyly shake. “I'm Jason, born to bear the weight of being Monica's cousin, but also the coolest guy you'll find in Hawkins.”

That, of course, started a small war of cheesy pick-up lines, insults, and sarcastic comments. You laughed, feeling easily welcomed by Monica's cousin.

Now, what gets your attention is how his young siblings cry, yell, calling out Jason as is he was just sleeping inside the wooden box and would wake up, smile, and start chasing them around again. He won't. Jason is only a memory now.

“I think we should go,” Billy says in a low voice, letting go of your hand to rub your arms softly.

Nodding, you let him guide you to his Camaro, driving you away from the sea of people dressed in black. You've known Jason for such a little time compared to everyone else here, who saw him grow up, studied with him, lived near him for many years. Your pain is just a speck of dust compared to theirs.

When you get home, the sun is setting. You decide to call Diane, just to make sure she's alright, but you don't tell what happened. It would make her come here immediately, and the last thing you need is someone else you care about being in danger. You have to lie, despite hating yourself for it, telling her that your voice is funny because you had to yell a lot with the kids at the pool. But it's better this way. There are more than enough people here you need to worry about.

“Come here,” Billy calls when you finally head to the bedroom. He sits in the bed, back against the headrest and you're quick to crawl into the bed and into his arms. “How are you feeling?”

“I don't know. Sad doesn't really explain it.” Putting your legs over his, you hide your face on his neck, breathing in your favorite cologne, the only one he uses since the day you told him that. “I can't believe I buried Jason. Jason. My crazy-ass friend.” Your voice cracks and you hold back a sob. “I'll never hear those stupid jokes again.”

“I'm so sorry, princess.” There's a pain in his voice too. Billy has been around Jason a bit, mostly with you. But you know he's actually sad because of how broken you are. You can see it in his eyes, that he wish he could take your pain away, and that he's desperate because he doesn't know what to do.

But there's nothing Billy or anyone else could do. You can't fight death. You can't hit it with a baseball bat full of nails until it gives your friend back. The only thing you can do is avenge him. Get whatever took him and destroy it.

“I wanna kill those Demothings.” The anger in your voice is tangible, and you clench your hands into fists. “I swear to God, Billy, I'll kill one of them myself.”

“Anger won't help. We need to be smart about it. We need a strategy.” Billy is often angry with things. Mostly with things that hurt you, but this time, you get why he's taking another path, trying to calm you down instead of putting more wood in the fire. “The meeting is set for tomorrow. We'll find a battle plan to kill those damn things.” His hand comes to lay on your thigh, fingers softly caressing your skin. “But for now you need to rest, ok? I'll cook something you like and then we'll cuddle watching some nice movie. How does that sound?”

“What if I cry through the movie?” You ask because more tears start rolling down, it doesn't matter how many times you try to get rid of them.

“Then I'll hold you tight.”

“Sounds good to me.”

Billy is kind enough to try and get you into some small talk. Nothing too complicated, nothing related to the Demothings or Jason. You're thankful for that. He even manages to get a few laughs from you, although they're always followed by a reality check when the events of the last two days hit you again, and the smile is gone.

A couple of hours later you're watching Jaws, your head on Billy's chest as you try to follow the events of the movie. But it seems way too fast for you, or it's just your mind that's refusing to process anything that's happening.

You just keep thinking about death. About how Jason's whole life was cut short. How all of his plans for the future were erased.

“Billy, can I ask you something?” Keeping your voice low, you speak up for the first time since you came to the living room after having dinner.

“Of course, princess. What is it?”

Biting your lip, you consider if you should really bring that up. It's selfish to talk about your future when someone else won't have one. But this whole situation made you want to make plans because it's a privilege to still be here. It's a blessing to still have time. “What you said to Joyce about... Marriage. Did you really mean that or–” Pushing yourself up from where you were laying on top of him, you take a deep breath. “–or were you just trying to get out of the conversation. Because it's ok if–”

“Haven't I made it clear that I want to be with you for the rest of my life?” He moves to sit up as well, pulling you close until you're placed in between his legs, a hand caressing your cheek. “Because if I hadn't, I'll make it clear now. I want to be with you for the rest of my life. I don't know how it happened, and it did get me by surprise, but the day you walked in the Hawkins Community Pool, I knew something changed in me. I knew I had to get to know you, and I did thought it would pass, that I'd get tired of you as I got of the other girls, but I didn't.” Billy holds you closer to him, your foreheads touching. “You hit me like–”

“Bang.” You finish for him, the memory of the day he was unbelievably honest with you coming back. The day he admitted to you, and somehow to himself too, that he liked you. It was also the day he punched David, and the day he kissed your cheek, making your stomach burn like it has been set on fire.

“Like bang.” He breathes out, warm lips coming in touch with yours. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you pull him as close as you can, the need to feel that he's here, with you, clouding the sound of the TV. Billy moves to lay back down again, and when you move to follow his change of posture, your knee slips and connects to his ribs. “Ouch!” He breathes out, cutting off the kiss.

“Oh, shit. I'm so sorry.” Covering your mouth, you bring the free hand to rub his side. “Sorry, baby.”

Taking a deep breath, he grabs your arm and pulls you down, making you collide on his chest, giggling. “Sorry. I shouldn't be joking around with you now.”

Squinting your eyes at him, you try to get up, but his strong arms come around your body, keeping you from moving. “I hate you, Hargrove.” The fake sentence is soon overcome by a giggle. “I'll kick you right this time, I'm warning you.”

“Oh, I'm shaking like a leaf.”

“Don't test me, Hargrove. Keep in mind we sleep on the same bed and I know all of your habits, baby.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Mhmm.” Mumbling, you manage to stand up, moving back into a sitting position. You know he actually let you go, but there's no reason to acknowledge that. Taking a deep breath, the sudden happiness is stained again, as the memories crawl back. It seems like Billy notices because his smile softens. “I love living with you, you know that, right?”

“I love waking up next to you every morning.”

You can't help the smile that comes to your lips as you bend over again, kissing his lips.

On the next day, Billy calls Anthony to ask him to give you a few days off work. Obviously, you have to urge your hothead boyfriend not to curse the manager and risk losing his job. You feel fine to go to the pool, or you think you do, but the truth is you wouldn't be paying much attention anyway. And much to your dismay, Billy gets a total of zero days off. No discussion, what makes him hang up the phone so hard you thought he broke the poor thing.

Since you don't want to be alone, and Billy would absolutely never allow you to be alone in the house when you're friend just died, he drives you to Joyce's place, where the party will gather to make plans.

Saying it's hard to be away from Billy on the day after you buried Jason is a misunderstanding. Seeing him drive away from Joyce's porch makes you feel like he's taking your heart with him. He didn't seem pleased either, but there was no other choice. You wouldn't make him miss the day, since you know Anthony is a terrible human being, just looking for the right excuse to get rid of the lifeguards.

“Honey, come inside,” Joyce calls a hand on your shoulder. “Can I get you something to eat? We had pizza last night and I have a slice in the fridge.”

“No, thank you, Joyce.” Politely, you decline her offer. “Is there any bed I can crash in?”

“Sure. Come.” Walking through Jonathan and Will, you wave at them, muttering a good morning and trying not to cry at their sad faces. They know Jason was a close friend, and, like everyone else, they don't know what to do or say. “This is Will's and Jonathan's room. Just pick a bed.” Nodding, you choose the one on the left and lie down. “Do you need to talk?”

“There's nothing to say.” Putting your head on a pillow, you stare at the ceiling. You feel comfortable around Joyce, she has this mother thing about her. “I just want this to end. Before anyone else gets... Eaten.” The word makes you shiver as it brings the image of his body back. “I wish I wasn't the one to find him. To... See him that way. I don't think I'll ever forget that.”

“Honey, I'm so sorry.” She comes to sit on the edge of the bed. “When... When they found Will's body, it hurt. I knew in my heart it wasn't him, but the very idea of losing my baby was horrible. So I have an idea of how you feel. Losing someone is a pain that doesn't go away. You'll get used to it, but it remains. All we can do is learn to deal with it and honor them by carrying their memories.”

You're crying through her speech, and you can't help but sit up and hug her, crying on her shoulder. “We have to be careful because I can't lose anyone else.” You're not sure if she can even understand what you're saying, but since she nods, you think she did.

“Don't worry, honey. We'll all be alright.” She pulls away, rubbing both your arms. “The kids will be here soon, but feel free to stay here or join us, ok? Do whatever makes you comfortable.”

“Thanks.” Offering her a small, sad smile, you watch as she leaves.

You hear when they get here, the chattering starts, and you can understand a few words here and there. They talk about you, and about Billy and about the funeral. But soon enough it falls into the major problem. And that's when you tune out, staring at the ceiling, trying not to make yourself too comfortable in someone else's bed.

The only thing you want now is Billy. You want to go back to the time where there was no Demogorgon, Demowhatever lurking around. At least to you. It's weird to know what really happened in Billy's car accident, how he was almost the host for the Mind Flayer. You're happy it didn't happen, that he's here now. You need to thank Max for that, actually. If it wasn't for her and the others, your Billy wouldn't be here. He could be dead, and you'd never meet him. He'd never shoot glances at you, or drive you home, buy you tacos or punch David's face. Or kiss you, hold you, love you. The thought of a life without Billy in it is absurd. Now, more than ever, after you lost someone so dear, you have this need to be with him. Just to make sure he's here.

Breathing out and closing your eyes, your hand comes to hold the necklace. It makes you feel closer to Billy, and there is a silent promise here, one you hold close to your heart, together with the earring.

Eyes open, you get up of the bed. You don't care if you got days off, you have to see him. Even if it's just for a hug. Leaving the bedroom, you make your way to the living room, which is crowded.

“We wait until it's late at night to make sure the Demodogs are out, sneak inside the tunnels, and spill insane amounts of gasoline all over it. Get the hell out, wait until it's morning, and set the whole thing on fire.” Dustin says, hands in the air and a smile on his face.

He's kidding, right? He can't be suggesting that as if it's the greatest idea of the world. “Are you completely insane?” You ask, making your presence known. Arms crossed, your eyes scan through the party. “You can't possibly think this is a good idea.”

“I agree with (Y/N), this is insane,” Joyce adds, her face making it clear she thinks this idea sucks. “I won't let you do that.”

“But–”

“The point is to kill them without getting ourselves killed. And every single idea you come up with has a hundred different ways to get us killed.” Steve says, both his hand on his hips as he paces around the room. “Who thinks this idea sucks raise your hand.” He's the first to do it, and Joyce, you, and Jonathan do the same.

“Count Billy in.” You say, raising the other hand as well.

“And Hopper,” Joyce states, giving you an approving stare.

“It's six against seven. We're doing it.” Dustin exclaims.

“No.” You basically shout, not caring one bit if you sound bossy. All eyes lay on you as you struggle to keep it together. “We're not doing it and that's final.”

“I–”

“I just lost a friend and I will not let you do something that might just end up in another funeral.” There are tears threatening to fall again, but you hold them back. “So come up with something else.”

The silence is deafening. You know you're breaking down again, even though the tears aren't rolling down. Yet.

“Please. There's gotta be something else.” Lowering your voice and looking down at your feet, you beg. You can't even think about someone else dying. You couldn't bear it.

“I saw this thing at school. Like a robot with remote control.” Lucas starts. “If we could build a bunch of them and attach a hose, we could guide it inside the tunnels and spread the gasoline.”

“Yeah, but there are seven holes. Which means a lot of ground we'd have to cover.” Eleven adds as you make your way to the group, sitting on the couch beside Joyce.

“Let's blow up six of them.” You burst out, crossing your legs. “A hell of a explosion that would take those things days to dig it back. Then there will be only one way in and out. Find a hell of a long hose or just connect a bunch of them and a million gallons of gas. The robots will spread it then we'll just need a match.”

“That's good. It could work.” Nancy says. “But we'll need to chip in to buy all these things.

“Hopper can get some for free I'm sure.”

“We start right now.” Mike stands up and the others follow. “Let's get started.”

The rest of the day is hectic. Lists are made, one of the kids teachers come over to help with what they called a summer project. For fun. And the materials started arriving. You don't really know what to do, so you help Joyce make lunch, keeping up with her small talk. Joyce is easy to be around, and you like to hear her stories about Will and Jonathan. You even manage to show a few smiles every now and then. After everyone is fed, you finally sit on the porch, trying to help as much as you can. The kids are genius, literally building remote control robots from random pieces and the instructions from books. It's amazing. Since you can't really be of much help in this aspect, you join Nancy, separating stuff or doing anything they tell you too.

When the sun is setting, some of them had to go home to gather their stuff. They'll crash here and take the robot construction through the night. By the moment you hear the faint noise of Billy's car, it's just Joyce's kids, Steve and Dustin. Leaving the small pieces of metal you were shaping into tiny little circles, you stand up abruptly.

“Where are you going? These circles aren't going to make themselves.” Dustin complains, raising his hands in the air.

“Billy is back.” There's no need for further explanation, so you tiptoe among the stuff, careful not to step on anything.

“It could be anyone.”

“Dustin, is there any other car in Hawkins that sounds like that?” As you speak, the noise gets louder and Billy's car comes to your sight.

“She knows her boyfriend's car.” Steve jokes as you walk to the yard, smiling when Billy stops the car and comes out.

“Miss me, princess?”

“Obviously.” It's a feeling of pure relief to see him. It feels like it's been so much longer than just some hours, but you feel that you'll have this insane need to be around him for a while. Just to enjoy the fact that you're still alive. You can't help but wonder for long the idea of death will hover over you... Probably forever.

“You ok?” He asks, his hand on your hair as you have your head on his chest.

“I will be.” Remembering the audience, you pull away, standing on your toes to kiss him. “Dustin had a terrible idea but I made him change his mind about it.”

“How did you do that?”

“I yelled.” With no intention of further explanation, you turn at the guys. “I'll be back tomorrow morning, alright? Have fun doing crazy science.” Waving at them, you get into the car.

You would like to stay at Joyce's, keep helping as much as you can, but you feel like you need silence and peace. The kid's laughter and jokes make you feel better, but you know that you also need to let the sadness creep over for a while. Keeping it hidden, disguised, makes no good. So as you dry and brush your hair, waiting for Billy to finish his shower, you cry.

For Monica, for Jason's younger siblings, his mother, his father, uncle, and aunt. For every friend he made since he was born. And for yourself too. Jason was one of the people that you imagined you'd be around for the rest of your life.

You're dragged away from your thoughts by the phone's ring. Rushing to answer it, you find it's Joyce, kindly asking if you can pick Mike up and drive him to her place, and of course, you comply.

“Billy.” You call when you hear him coming out of the bathroom. “Joyce needs us to pick up Mike. Nancy can't stop what she's doing there.”

“Sure. Let's go.”

Being out at night makes you anxious, but you try not to let it show. Eyes on the road, you bounce your leg nervously, tugging on the seat belt. Billy notices, and a hand comes to rest on your thigh.

“We'll be fine. Relax.”

“I'm trying.” Stretching your arm, you touch his neck. “I'm sorry if I can't stop thinking about Jason and what happened.”

“(Y/N), you just lost a friend. My responsibility as your boyfriend is to hold and love you through this process. Don't apologize.”

“I don't want this to be your responsibility, Billy.” When he turns his head to look at you, you run your fingers through his jaw.

He takes a deep breath, pulling over by Mike's house. You were about to get out, but since he doesn't move, neither do you. Billy looks like he's thinking, furrowed eyebrows and distant eyes. “Billy? Come back to Earth.” You decide to ask, taking off the belt and turning your body towards his.

“To have and to hold. For better or worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health.” He squints his eyes through the words, trying to remember them. It takes a while for you to understand what he means, and when you do, your heart starts drumming in your ears. “To love and cherish till death do us part.”

“Billy...”

“It means I'll stand by your side. Not because I feel like it's my responsibility, but because I love you. And I'm more than happy to take the responsibility of being your–”

“Couldn't you save that up for, I don't know, someday when I'm dressed in white?” The words come out fast, and you're blushing hard, your cheeks burning. “No. You had to do this now. Drive me insane now in your Camaro.” You roll your eyes dramatically when his lips break into a smile, that smug, cocky smile he has when he knows he got to you somehow.

“Be my wife, (Y/N).”

“No.” It's an utter absurd how hard you have to fight not to say the exact opposite. You want to just burst out the word, here and now, because you're so damn sure you want Billy for the rest of your life. “No, baby. We'll graduate, save up money and you'll make a decent proposal.” You hope he can't notice your hands shaking as you step out of the car, almost stumbling on the sidewalk. His words burn through your mind, sending shivers down your spine. “I won't say I'll marry you in the middle of the sidewalk, in the middle of the night, in front of Mike's house.”

“Did I just make you nervous?” Billy's arms come to encircle your waist, his deep voice, and breath on your hair making you sigh.

“Shut up, Hargrove.” With the sweet sound of his laughter on your ear, you knock on the front door, trying to push him away before someone comes to answer. “Let go.”

“Are you using my cologne again?” As soon as he asks, you feel his nose softly rubbing your neck, what makes you giggle and try to push him away again, uselessly. “You are.”

It wasn't your intention to let him find out, but he always does. “Well, it was–”

The door is suddenly open, a yellowish light hitting your eyes as you try to stand up straighter. The woman standing there gives a step back as if she just saw a ghost. Her eyes fly from Billy and back at you, then all the way back to Billy. It hits you suddenly as you realize she's Mrs. Wheeler, the woman Billy was going to meet on the day the Mind Flayer almost got him. They haven't met or spoken since that day, and you weren't expecting her to look so... Perplexed. You try to read her expression, to understand what the look in her eyes means.

“Hello, Mrs. Wheeler.” You manage to say because Billy clearly won't even try to be polite. You feel his muscles tensing up, as he gets immediately uncomfortable under the woman's stare since she doesn't seem to even try to hide. “Sorry to disturb you. We're here for Mike.”

@chloe-skywalker @dpaccione @dreamin-of-dacre @funeral-7 @uncookspaget @youhavemyfantasticbeasts @halloweenbitch2764 @redlovett @multific @shinydixon @nikkixostan @clockworkballerina @nope-thanks

#imagine billy hargrove #billy hargove x reader #billy hargrove fanfiction #billy hargrove x y/n #billy hargrove imagine #billy stranger things #stranger things imagine #imagine stranger things #stranger things fanfiction

161 notes · View notes

joonie-beanie · 4 years

Text

Meet my OM! MC - Bean

Yes, she’s a self-insert MC. But that’s why I’m playing the game so lemme live aljkdaksdl;

Also! Check out this commission of Bean by @/frujiko !

Name: Bean (June is her real name, but they refer to her as Bean most of the time)

Height: 5′8 (173cm)

Age: 23

Sexuality: Bi

Likes:

Sweet foods

Peace and quiet (w/optional soft music playing)

Food that involves noodles

Steak (medium-rare)

Easy-to-play video games (Mario Kart, Smash Bros, etc)

Reading/writing smut

Thunderstorms

Open communication

Dislikes:

Anyone who says that cats are demons

Hot weather

Nail polish (on herself)

Chihuahuas (w/Luke as an exception)

Confrontation

Sudden, loud noises

People who lack patience

Ocular headaches (she only wears glasses when she has one)

Relationships with the Demon Brothers:

Lucifer:

Thinks he’s the most beautiful man in existence.

Is immediately attracted to him at first glance.

However, she’s also intimated by him, so she never goes out of her way to make a statement of her affections.

Lucifer embodies pride, which is the sin Bean lacks most (especially with regards to self-image)--hence why she’s intimidated of him at times. Despite him being kind to her, she feels like he’s in a different league.

Therefore, Bean does her best to treat him normally--trying to be someone he can rely on, and be proud of. (She really loves making him proud).

Lucifer, of course, is aware of the little wall she puts up when around him. Like there are thoughts on her mind that she doesn’t want him to know.

He respects her distance, at first, but eventually attempts to figure out what it is that’s causing her to treat him more distantly than his brothers (yes, it bothers him).

Aside from Bean’s complicated feelings for him, she’s always reminding Lucifer to take care of himself, and asking if she can do anything to help out.

Since she loves to relax, she hates seeing Lucifer so busy all the time, so if anything, she’ll bring him a meal, or come and ask if he wants someone to make conversation with while he works. (He appreciates her greatly for these little acts of kindness).

Also, once Lucifer finally makes her walls crumble and elicits her true feelings, their relationship becomes more physical (sharing skinship like with his brothers, etc). And she is ESPECIALLY flustered by any show of affection from him.

He tends to use her real name 90% of the time, which she doesn’t have a problem with. (It makes their relationship feel just a little bit more special).

Mammon:

Bean thinks his stupid tsundere ass is cute and annoying all at the same time.

She’ll bully him a little bit, but will always follow up with affection, because she doesn’t want him to take her little jabs to heart.

Since Bean loves the casino, they end up being gambling buddies.

Unlike Mammon, however, Bean knows when to stop. Lucifer only allows Mammon to go to the casino with her 1. Because it’s the Devildom and he doesn’t want Bean going alone, and 2. Bean had promised him that she would make sure Mammon stops gambling once he reaches the end of his prepared budget.

Mammon feels comfortable talking to Bean when he’s not feeling the greatest. Or, rather, there’s no talking, but just him holding onto her tightly, or laying in her lap while she pets his hair.

Bean enjoys all forms of skinship, so she’s more than happy to give him cuddles, hugs, etc. The only time she gets annoyed is when Mammon interrupts her while she’s busy, or gets too clingy.

Overall, the two get along fairly well.

Levi:

Bean loves Levi.

She relates to him in a lot of ways--including being an introvert, and enjoying anime and video games. So, she tries to befriend him.

After the whole TSL incident--once things get worked out--Levi finally allows her into his life, and they become close quite fast.

While she doesn’t understand half the shit he’s talking about sometimes, she listens to him and supports his interests nonetheless.

At least once a week, Levi demands that she come over for a game night. Once his brothers pick up on the trend, they start showing up as well (which peeves Levi sometimes because he just wants to spend time with Bean).

Don’t tell him, but every so often, Bean will message the brothers who tend to show up (Beel, Belphie, Mammon), and ask them to not come to game night since “Levi is having me help with a dungeon run and wants peace and quiet”.

....he has never said that to her, but she knows he wants to have some alone time, and so does she, so Bean doesn’t feel bad making up a little white lie.

Also, she absolutely loves giving him affection. She honestly can’t explain her need to kiss him on the cheek, or hug him for a solid 10 seconds, but it happens fairly often once their relationship gets better.

Maybe it’s the way he blushes, and slowly begins returning all of her shows of affection? Yeah, that might be it.

Satan:

Their relationship revolves around literature, love of cats, and late night discussions.

Bean and Satan see each other as someone they can have a solid, intellectual conversation with, so sometimes they’ll show up at each others doors with a bottle of wine, and a topic in mind, and will rally the conversation back and forth until they’re too tired, or tipsy, to keep going.

Bean misses her cats back up in the human world, so Satan makes a point of taking her to cat cafes, or sending her stupid cat videos on Deviltube whenever he finds one.

Bean isn’t into classic literature like Satan, but once the demon finds out she enjoys writing, he becomes entirely too curious as to what, and eventually (after Satan wears on her enough), she admits that she writes smut.

Satan becomes her unintentional beta-reader, once she shares a piece with him, and he actually gives her very constructive feedback.

He promises to keep her dirty secret (hah) from his brothers, if she sends him what she considers to be her best stories so far (because he honestly does enjoy her writing).

At the end of the day, the two have a comfortable, friendly relationship, and really value each other. Simple forms of skinship between the two come as natural as breathing air.

Asmo:

Asmo is absolutely the self-care force in Bean’s life that she both needs and fears.

Despite his self-centered nature, he’ll be damned if he allows Bean to leave the Devildom feeling anything but confident in herself.

And so, in spite of the fact that in the beginning, Bean wants to run away from Asmo, eventually he manages to become someone that she feels she can confide in. Especially when it comes to her body-image issues.

She feels like such a burden when she’s having a bad day, but Asmo is more than happy to be there for her--whether she asks or not--and she really appreciates him for that.

She’s also more than happy to be Asmo’s doll to dress up, put make-up on, etc. and he loves her for that. Of course, he loves to do those things to himself, but it’s so much fun to have a willing subject.

The two also have a habit of giving gifts to each other. Bean gives Asmo a gift to thank him for his kindness towards her, and then suddenly they’re in a constant back and forth of never ending gift giving. (It’s honestly really sweet).

And when it comes to skinship, Asmo is very open--giving hugs, kisses, etc. And whenever Bean initiates skinship with him of her own accord, he honestly melts a little.

Beel:

BIG TEDDY BEAR. Oh, and food buddy.

Bean wants to cuddle with Beel literally whenever possible. She loves walking up and being able to hug him with her face pressed between his tiddies. Because she’s tall herself, knowing a big boy like Beel excites her so much.

And of course, Beel loves all of her hugs, and shows of affection. He accepts them all with a smile, and is more than happy to reciprocate.

One time, Beel picks Bean up during a hug, and she gasps. Beel immediately worries if he had hurt her, but she just says she’s not used to anyone being able to lift her up, and Beel then makes a point of lifting her into hugs. He also gives her piggy back rides when appropriate, and her heart is so full for him.

They also end up going out to eat together quite a lot. Beel wants to introduce her to all of his fave Devildom foods, and Bean happily goes along with him.

If there’s ever a day where Bean’s self-image isn’t the best, Beel will make sure she doesn’t skip any meals. And if she expresses the want to change her diet, or start an easy exercise routine, he’ll be more than happy to help her out.

The two tend to go on evening walks together--since it’s exercise done in good company--and Bean appreciates him a lot.

Overall, the two are very affectionate and casual in their relationship with one another.

Belphie:

Low energy pals.

Literally will lay in bed next to each other on their DDD’s, sharing memes, and talking about random shit.

Bean quickly becomes Belphie’s new favorite pillow once the whole stuck-in-the-attic chapter is done with, and their relationship improves.

She’s a little shy about it, but Belphie honestly loves her squish. Perfect for napping.

If Belphie finds Beel and Bean cuddling, or hugging, he will absolutely add himself into the equation with zero hesitation.

Bean is someone that he can talk to without feeling judged, or like she’ll rat out his negative feelings to his brothers.

He really appreciates her willingness to accept him despite how he’d manipulated her, and hurt her in the past. In turn, Bean hopes that she can continue to be a light in Belphie’s life, and that she can help him continue to grow and change (despite him being thousands of years older than her).

The two tend to hang out in the planetarium together frequently.

Also, Bean will wake up to random messages/memes from Belphie that he sent at an ungodly hour while the rest of them were busy sleeping (and she loves it).

If anyone has any questions about Bean, her relationships with the brothers, or other characters, how she would react in certain situations, etc -- please feel free to send me an ask about it!! 👉👈

SFW or NSFW topics are okay!

#obey me #om!#obey me mc #om! mc #oc #bean

311 notes · View notes

simpsiren · 4 years

Text

sticky notes: the story

mark lee x reader

introduction

main masterlist

description. you use sticky notes to get into contact with your soulmate.

genre. soulmate au, high school au, strangers to lovers au

warnings. nonee

a/n. so some people requested for a full story of this so here it is! i really liked making this because the concept is just so cute cudndn oh and i did include the same idea as what i did in my previous post but i had to change it a little so that it would fit the plot. this is a really really long ff since its a slow burn typa thing so please try to stick with me on this one HAHA anyways enjoyy! :D

“you actually believe that?”

you lift your head up from your notes to look at soyoung. she nods her head and hum eagerly. you rub your temples from seeing her respond. “i do believe soulmates exist. but sticky notes to talk to them? what’s social media for then? and how is it even scientifically possible?” you question soyoung, bringing your eyes down as you continue to do your homework.

“that’s the beauty of soulmates, ray!” soyoung whines. you shake your head. “you’re dumb to believe it without confirming the information with other relevant sources.” you mutter out bluntly. you hear soyoung letting out a ‘tsk’. “here you go again being a history student. i swear im glad i never took it.” you scoff and slam your pen on the table gently.

“excuse me, woman! at least i dont have to memorise the whole textbook and only having 5 pages of content coming out in the exam.” you stick your tongue out playfully to tease soyoung. “i cant get over the fact that valcanos didn’t come out eventhough i memorised so much for it.”

the both of you laugh, knowing that the two of you can never stop debating on whether history or geography is the better subject.

“ray complete your homework at home. we cant stay in the classroom for long you know?” soyoung stands up to get to her seat, which is 2 rows down yours since you were sitting right at the back. you liked sitting at the back. it allowed you to always be able to use your phone in case you get bored in class. you still cant believe that your teachers think you’re a good and obedient student. you figured they only assumed that due to your high grades.

you sigh “that’s true.” you turn around to grab your back that was hanging in your chair and start packing your materials. once you were done, you grab the class key and walk over to soyoung’s seat, waiting for her to finish packing. you notice soyoung has finish packing and went to switch off the lights. you allow soyoung to step out first before you close the door behind you and lock the classroom door.

you and soyoung walked down the hallway silently, you were looking out the window to watch the sunset while soyoung had her eyes on her feet. only your footsteps could be heard as almost everyone has left the school grounds except for some teachers who were working late. the school normally closes at 7pm and you’re walking out at 6:50. to break the silence, soyoung opens her mouth to start a conversation.

“okay if you dont believe me why dont you try it yourself? like write a simple introduction to your soulmate.” you raise an eyebrow as you shove your hands into the front pockets of your mom jeans. “why dont you do it?” you fought back as you huff. soyoung bites the inside of her cheek as a moment of silence passes for her to think of an answer.

“because i believe it. and you do not. so you should try it.” you smacked soyoung’s arm, making her flinch back and shouting a loud ‘ouch’. you roll your eyes, knowing you didn’t hit her hard and she was just overreacting. “brilliant excuse,so. but if its going to make you stop talking about it, i might as well.” soyoung face lit up as she jumps happily and starts skipping ahead of you. you laugh and pull the handle at back of her bag to keep her explosion of excitement to the minimum.

“you owe me brown sugar milk tea. large.” you taunted. soyoung waves her hand lazily. “i’ll buy you one after school tomorrow. but you better update me during math.”

you wanted to say how you could just text soyoung to update her, but you remembered the fact that soyoung’s mother took away her phone since she didn’t do well for this year’s midterms. although to you, soyoung’s grades were decent. unfortunately for her, soyoung has to live up to her asian mom’s high expectations. the thought of this made you want to frown, but you showed a bright smile regardless as the two of you finally made it to the school gate, waving to each other and bidding farewell before walking down opposite paths.

once you arrived at home, you took out your phone from your back pocket. you saw a notification from your mother saying that your parents would be home late. you shrug your shoulders as you walk to your room. “as always.” you breathed out.

you did your normal routine of showering and eating leftover dinner that you needed to heat up at the couch while you completed one episode of the anime series you were so hooked on. you continue watching but with the amount of homework you have, you might finish them all by midnight if you dont slack.

you turned off the tv and washed your plate before heading into your room. as you close the door behind you, your eyes immediately went to your desk, which was pretty messed up since you had a test to study for yesterday that you completely weren’t prepared for and had to squeeze in as much information as you can. hence, the scattering of notes and textbooks.

you stroll over to your desk and sat down. you take out your homework from your back which was beside the desk. looking at the stack of homework, you groan in despair as shove it to the back of the desk till it hit the wall. “ah fuck it! im just going to ask kun for help.” you admitted your defeat depsite thinking you would be able to gain some energy from your dinner. you also thought about how you’ve done your homework in the morning plenty of time so i shouldnt be a problem unless kun doesn’t offer his help.

you jump to your bed and lay down, bringing your phone out and immediately start scrolling through instagram. as you swiped your finger up to look at the posts of the people you follow, you stop at one. a picture of a couple who met through the sticky note theory. or so they claim. your thumbs hover over the screen as your eyes look up to the ceiling, starting to remember what soyoung asked to do to get your bubble tea.

yoy tap your index finger on the side of your phone as you constantly started to think whether you should do it or not. you’ve heard the rumours. but are they even true? the more you thought about it, the more intriguing the idea got. but at the same time, you also thought of how stupid it sounded and was probably made to fool people.

after contemplating and having in a debate in your head that felt like forever, you finally place your phone down beside you and take a deep breath. “ill do it.” you groan to yourself, letting curiosity take over your other feelings.

you gather up your strength to stand up from your bed and walk over to your desk. you push all the papers and textbooks aside, grabbing a yellow sticky notepad from your stationery organiser. you had other colours too like pink and purple, but you figured that you should go with the classic.

pulling out a random pen that was laying in between the pages of one of your textbooks, you tilt your head to the side as you start thinking of what to write, unconsciously biting the end of your pen in the process.

you bite the side of your cheek and shrug, deciding to go with the plan of writing whatever that comes to your mind.

um hi? i dont even know if you’re going to see this. its funny, really. i heard a rumour that you can communicate with your soulmate through sticky notes. it’s probably just fake news and im writing to a nobody. that would honestly be embarrassing but it’ll be like love letters.. to myself(?) or my soulmate. write back? haha

you read over what you wrote an endless amount of times, thinking if you should make changes. you groan and immediately stick the sticky note onto your wall, giving up on giving second thoughts about what you call this ridiculousness.

you went about your night, forgetting you have left the sticky note on the wall. as you were on you bed scrolling through tumblr at 2 in the morning, you hear something. it sounded like a piece of paper had fallen from your desk.

unable to see in complete darkness, you turn on the flashlight from your phone and walk around your room, trying to find whatever it is that fell. it didn’t take you long to find a small yellow sticky note that you accidentally stepped on.

you pick it up, remembering that you wrote on the sticky note and thought that it was yours. however, once you were able to get a closer look, you noticed that the words on the sticky note have changed. so has the handwriting.

holy shit. i dont know what is this. but apparently a sticky note appeared on my wall saying i have a soulmate. my friends told me i should write back because of some rumour. so here i am trying. hi im mark. i dont know your name, but hope you’ll tell me once you recieve this. you’re in luck because apparently the rumour is true. im just as crepped out as you are.

you froze in your spot. your fingers shaking as you read the note again. you scratch your head. being too tired and unable to think straight at 2 in the morning, you place the sticky note on your desk and went back to bed to play with your phone. you soon forget about the fact that your soulmate has replied to your message that you have written on your sticky note.

as you got ready for the next period which was math, soyoung immediately runs over to you, dragging the chair from the desk beside you and taking a seat. you flinch a little when you suddenly see her close to you.

“so did you try it?!” soyoung asks, her voice filled with enthusiasm . you brushed a few pieces of hair behind your ear, nodding your head as you take out your textbook from under the desk. “did you get a reply then?”

your mind started to take you back to the mysterious encounter that you had last night. “mhm.” you reply simply. “though the only thing i remember because it seems to be the only relevant information is that the person’s name is mark.” soyoung gasped loudly, making you crease your forehead as you watch her overreacting again.

“your soulmate’s name is mark then.” soyoung concludes, folding her arms confidently as if she made a great discovery. you laugh, rolling your eyes sarcastically. “isnt it obvious?” soyoung frowns fakely.

your mouth gapes open as you hit soyoung’s arm lightly. “buy me my milk tea!” you demanded with a wide smile. soyoung places her notebook on your table and nods constantly. “i will you addict.” she groans. you happily say thank you as your teacher comes into the classroom and class began.

“what are you going to do about it now though?” as you recieved the question from soyoung, you kept silent for a moment, giving time to think of an answer.

“ill write something back? i dont know.. ill have to read the letter again when i get back home.” you whispe to soyoung. she nods in reply as the two of you payed your attention to the front again. it surprised you that soyoung was paying attention but you only assumed that she wanted to do better in class and shrug your shouders, writing down the notes youve missed while talking to soyoung.

as for you, your concentration in class dipped slightly because now, the thing that is occupying your head the most is the thought that the sticky notes theory might actually be real and you cant say its not possible anymore, making you even more shocked than you did last night.

lucky for you, today is the only day of the week where your class ends the earliest, along with two other lower ranked classes. you and soyoung quickly pack up to go to the mall to get your reward. after soyoung buys you your drink, you and soyoung went your separate ways.

after about 30 minutes of taking the bus and walking, you finally arrived at home. you place your drink on the living room table and proceed to place your bag in the room and head for the showers.

once you were done showering, you walk out of the bathroom to head to your room while drying your hair with a small towel. opening the door, you enter and went straight to your clothing rack. just when you were about to grab a shirt from the hanger, you heard the same noise last night. another piece of paper has fallen on the floor.

you turn your head and look down. this time, you found another sticky note right in front of your feet. the colour of the sticky note changed from yellow to a light blue. you tilt your head as you pick up the stick note from the floor, finding it odd as you wonder how the colour of the sticky note changed.

you take a deep breath before reading it, noticing that the handwriting was similar to the one you read last night. a little messier, but still readable.

hi again.. im not sure if you’ll recieve this since its the afternoon and i know people are busy with work or school. i skipped school today so haha. um i just wanted to write to you, despite me not knowing a single thing about you. its odd really. its like i feel the need to write something to an unknown identity that people assume to be my soulmate. i still dont know your name, so i hope youll reply soon. take your time and take care :)

- mark

“skip school? what is he, a bad boy?” you scoff to yourself. you try to take in whatever’s on the note, but another thought comes to mind. you walk over to your desk and saw that the yellow sticky note with mark’s reply was still there. you find everything about this weird and just odd in general. a lot of questions sprouted, but you didn’t want to think of it since you were afraid you would complicate your thoughts and just throw yourself into a stress hole.

you continue to dry your hair with one hand while the other held onto the light blue sticky note. you bit your lip and gulp. after letting out a long sigh, you place the sticky note next to the other one and changed into your clothes, as well as bringing your drink from the living room table to your room, placing it on the desk as you sat down.

you take out your pencilcase from your bag and brought out your fresh new black pen that you just bought at the school’s stationery store. the previous pen you had was full of ink till soyoung was dumb enough to drop it, spoiling the pen and was unable to be used again.

peeling off another yellow stick note from the stack at the edge of your desk, you were about to put your pen on paper when you realise you dont even know what to write. what do you say to this person you barely know about? you continuously tap the edge of the pen against your desk as you take a sip of your drink. you look over to the two sticky notes with the messages that the person has left. its funny how you have to think so hard just to write a short message.

hey again. i actually ended school early today. my name’s raven. but my friends call me ray. i honestly don’t know what to say to you. im still dumbfounded over the fact that you’re my soulmate and we’re here communicating over sticky notes. the world really does work in a strange way. if you dont mind, i guess i want to know how old you are and you’re education status?

you held out the sticky note in front of you and sigh in satisfaction. why? it’s because of your neat handwriting. it was always a trait of yours that you deeply appreciate. you place the sticky note on the wall and advert your attention to the other sticky notes, placing them on the wall beside the new one you have just written.

“will this drive me insane? i might end up with a whole wall of this.” you say to yourself, rubbing your face with your palm before going to your bed and laying down, wanting to have your evening nap.

“this is awesome!”

“no its scary.”

mark and his group of friends stared at the sticky note that has a message written with beautiful handwriting. mark flinched when he felt an arm on his shoulder, turning around to notice it was chenle’s. “when did you write your previous sticky note?” renjun suddenly asked. mark tilts his head as he tried to find an answer.

“less than an hour before you guys came i guess?” mark shrugs, standing up from his desk and taking a seat at the edge of the bed beside jaemin and haechan. “this raven girl is your soulmate then.” chenle walks towards mark and stands in front of him. mark nods slowly. the room grew silent again with everyone having the similar thoughts.

“you know what would be funny?” haechan smacks mark’s thigh, the sound making everyone turn their attention to mark and haechan. “what?” mark asked with a sigh, running a hand through his hair.

“why dont we prank her and say you’re a sugar daddy and live in a mansion?!” everyone gave yuta weird looks, making haechan laugh hysterically. “are you crazy? do you think i want to chase my soulmate away?” mark scolded haechan, smacking him hard on the chest, resulting in haechan’s back falling onto the bed.

“you’re always asking for a beating i swear.” renjun comments, walking towards haechan and balling his hand into a fist and acting as if he was about to attack. jaemin laughs to try and calm them down. “kids let’s not fight.” jaemin announced, looking over to jeno only to find him standing there watching quietly.

“go ahead, mark. you should write something. we cant keep her waiting.” jeno finally spoke up, grabbing the sticky notepad and a random pen from mark’s table and passing it over to him.

mark stared at the blank paper while the others were talking about what to have for dinner. it didn’t take him long to decide what to write. when mark starts writing and began to be in full concentration, everyone crowds around him to see what he’s writing.

sup raven! i wont call you ray since we aren’t friends yet. im still shocked. like the possibility of things like this being possible is just another possibility that can possibly happen. but anyways, to answer you question, im a high schooler from dream high. im in my third year. its kind of awkward for me while im writing this since my friends are reading every word im taking down. i guess i should ask you the same question back then. hope to hear from you soon.

“will you guys stop being nosy?” mark groans, standing up and pasting the sticky note on his wall, along with the other sticky notes he received from you. “you didn’t have to say that we’re here.” haechan retorts. mark rolls his eyes. “jesus..” mark mutters under his breathe. “anyways, yall are paying for dinner since you guys bribed me to write back.” mark sticks his tongue out playfully and runs out to the living room. everyone follows suit.. except for jeno.

jeno slowly walks towards the wall and leans forward to get a closer look of the sticky notes, specifically the two others beside the new one that mark just wrote. “raven? why does that sound so familiar? the handwriting...” jeno brings his finger up and lightly hovers them over the uniquely written words. it looked like calligraphy, and retro looking. jeno felt as though he had seen it before somewhere, or knew someone who wrote like that.

jeno snapped out of his deep thoughts when jaemin called out to him, making him walk towards the door and glancing at the sticky notes once more before joining the others in the living room.

you were currently video calling your friends when you heard the crackling of a piece of paper. of course you knew what that meant. you peered down the the floor from your bed and reached your hand out to pick up the sticky note. “ray?” doyoung called out to you when he noticed your face wasnt on screen. you lay back down on the floor and brought your phone up to show your face.

“what was that sound earlier?” lucas asked, currently sounding hyper. “the mysterious mark sent me another sticky note.” you reply sarcastically, waving the sticky note to the camera to let everyone look at it. everyone nodded their heads at the some time, some letting out a long ‘ah’ as well. “read it out loud!” yuta shouted.

“the fuck no!” you shouted back. you stared at the sticky note, but didn’t bother to read it. you thought of doing that once you’re done video calling them.

“how was today for you guys?” you asked, wanting to know how they’re doing.

“its tiring! we had dance practice, then we have to do recordings for our new albums. we barely get any sleep.” ten whines, his tone filled with stress. you laugh loudly. it made everyone frown and pout. you sigh. “pursuing your NCT world domination is never easy.” you commented, highlighting the word ‘world domination’ with a change of tone.

everyone lets out a long sigh and started to complain one by one, making the whole video call chaotic for almost 10 minutes. you could only smile and shake your head.

after about an hour or so of talking about basically everything and catching up with each other, everyone decided that they should end the call here since it was beginning to get dark and they needed to start practice soon. you bid your goodbye to them once more and ended the call.

you now adverted your attention to the sticky note. reading the letter, you raise both eyebrows. “dream high? that’s not far from here..” you mumbled to yourself. you started to think about everything you know about dream high. you know it’s was about an hour’s journey from where you live. it wasnt really well known either. the overall vibe of the school was mediocre.

however, you felt like you were missing something. something about that school is somehow related to you. you just couldn’t think of an answer despite squeezing all thoughts that you have in your brain. you groan and stood up from your bed and to your desk, proceeding to wanting to write a reply to mark.

hey. sorry if you get this quite late. i was busy video calling my friends. to answer your question, im a third year as well from jookin high. i would ask for your number so we dont have to do this all the time but my friend would scold me saying “but you’re removing the fun out of it.” but anyways, mark aka my soulmate, tell me about yourself, to start off.

you stick the note onto the wall, looking at the row of messages you’ve had recieved so far. you found it weird how the first time you’ve sent the note and got a reply back, it was on the same sticky note, just different handwriting. but you had to write on a new sticky note to send a new message only to get the same sticky note with a different message in return.

you only see his answers lined up on your wall. you started to wonder how this mark guy looked like. is he good looking? what are his hobbies? his attitude towards school? you really wished you could just text him through instagram and not have to go through all this trouble. but that option would earn you a large smack on the back by soyoung and your really didn’t want that.

“do we really need to be here now? like now?!”soyoung whined, while pushing the cart and following behind you while you tossed some packets of frozen bacon. you stopped walking and turn around, nodding your head intensely. soyoung groans and took out her phone, proceeding to use it while still pushing the cart.

you walk around the supermarket, trying to find the ingredients listed on your notes in your phone. it was the weekends and you’re parents were going to be away for a business trip for a week so you thought of inviting soyoung over and making home cooked meals as a bonding session for you two.

after about 30 minutes of gathering the ingredients and having soyoung constantly screaming and fangirling over tiktok edits of jaehyun from NCT. one note: she has yet to know that you know them and that they’re your friends. you figured that it would be best to not let anyone know so as to avoid any situation that would put your friends in a tight spot, since well they’re idols, you were looking for one last item that you had trouble finding.

“soyoung help me! stop watching tiktoks!” you groan, snatching soyoung’s phone away and shoving it in her back pocket. soyoung rolls her eyes lazily and the two of you proceeded to scan the different isles and shelves, looking over every item.

while you were too concentrated looking at the bottom shelves, you felt that you have bumped into someone. you squat down, letting out a soft ‘ouch’ before standing up and looking to see who you bumped into.

“wait. jaemin?” you furrow your eyebrows as you tilt your head, pointing your finger at the guy in front of you. “raven!” you noticed that it was jaemin after all, and both your faces lit up and the same time, grinning widely at each other.

“uhhh..” soyoung says out loud, you and jaemin turn your heads to face soyoung who was behind you. “oh! this is jaemin. we used to be neighbourhood friends before he moved out 4 years ago.” you introduced jaemin to soyoung. jaemin nodded and gave her a bright smile. soyoung only shrugged her shoulders and took out her phone. you turn your attention back to jaemin.

“why are you even here? dont you live quite far?” you ask, your fingers interlocked behind your back. jaemin nods, running a hand through his hair.

“well yes. but we came here to find something that only this supermarket sells.” jaemin replied back, his warm smile never leaving his lips. you smile, reached your hand out to ruffle his hair, laughing softly afterwards. “we? who’re you with?” you stared at jaemin with eyes of suspicion. jaemin started pinching your cheeks, making you whine and begging him to let go.

“with my friend, ray chill. im still single.” jaemin pulled away and folded his arms, pouting. “im sure you’ll find one soon.” you reached out to ruffle his hair and give off a wide smile.

while you and jaemin were catching up and being in your own world, soyoung got too bored of watching the two of you and decided to walk around the supermarket, leaving the cart behind you.

just as she was looking at the drinks isle to get her favourite sweet drink, she sees someone picking up a bunch of bottles one by one and placing them back on the shelve. out of kindness, she decided to help, picking up a bottle and placing it on fhe shelve before looking up to face the guy, who had a straight face while looking at her.

“i was just trying to help. im soyoung.” soyoung smiled, reaching her hand out and waiting for thr guy to greet back. he looked at her but doesn’t respond, proceeding to pick up the last bottle that was seen on the floor. “im jeno.” jeno stands up and nods his head to greet soyoung. soyoung nods back, walking down the isle to grab her drink from the shelve. “have a nice day.” soyoung says before leaving the isle and disappearing out of jeno’s sight. he only shrugged in response and went to do his own thing.

“you met who?!” haechan asks as he takes a sip of his ice cold water. everyone had their heads turned to jaemin, who raised an eyebrow at everyone’s weird expression. “i met my old friend raven. what’s so shocking?” jaemin asks back casually, picking up a few pieces of fries and dipping it into the sauce before shoving it in his mouth.

“dude that’s the name of mark’s soulmate!” haechan screams, making everyone flinch due to the loud noise. “i highly doubt it. there’s plenty of girls in the world with the name raven.” jaemin protests with his mouth full and chugging down gulps of coca cola.

“i mean that’s true. jeno you were with jaemin, right? dont you suspect anything?” renjun starts to question jeno, who was silently playing with his phone. looking up at the others, he gulps.

“i didn’t know he met his friend. i was picking out drinks. i just met a girl named soyoung.” jeno shrugs, taking a bite of his burger. mark scratches the back of his head, now starting to think of the fact that jaemin might have met his soulmate. though he also thought about how that could not be totally possible.

“nah i dont think its her. like really ‘raven’ could be anyone.” mark says, siding with jaemin. haechan tilts his head in awe. “jaemin do you know what school she’s going to?” jaemin only shakes his head.

“i lost all contact with her when i left her neighbourhood. plus we were young. i barely knew her honestly.” the living room falls silent, everyone trying to think of a conclusion to this.

chenle groans, standing up from his seat and slamming his hands on the table, gathering everyone’s attention as their heads shot up. “instead of pondering as if yall are solving some crime, why dont mark just ask her through the sticky note god dammit?” chenle pinches the bridge of his nose.

everyone’s mouths gape open as the room was suddenly filled with ‘ah’s all over. chenle shakes his head. everyone was now looking intensively at mark. mark furrows his eyebrows. “okay guys hold up ill grab the stick note.” mark stands up and takes one bite of his burger before going into his room for awhile and coming out with a sticky note and a pen.

jaemin noticed jeno being silent the whole way. and althought thats normal since its jeno’s nature and personality to not be so outspoken like the others, jaemin could sense that jeno was off and seem to be in deep thoughts.

and jaemin was right. jeno couldnt stop thinking about jaemin’s encounter with ‘raven’. the name sounded so familiar. he tried to recall every girl he has came into contact with during his life. why did he feel like the name was tied to the handwriting he saw on the sticky notes?

“jeno.” jaemin nudged him in the shoulder. jeno mumbled a soft ‘oh’ before turning his attention to mark just like the others. “she didn’t send me a reply after my last one though.” mark says, looking up.

“its fine. she probably didn’t see it. just write already.” chenle says in anticipation. mark shakes his head. “calm the heck down its not like we can get an answer immediately.” mark rolls his eyes and began to write.

hey raven. um i know this may sound weird. but have you gone to a supermarket and met a guy names jaemin? im not a stalker i swear. its just that he’s my friend and apparently you know him. though i dont think that such a coincidence and come by just like that. hope you hear from you soon.

jeno stared at the sticky note that mark proceeded to place at a random wall of the living room while everyone continued to eat and chat. his thoughts finally linked and a imaginary lightbulb appeared on above his head when he finally realises why he was so drawn to mark’s soulmate.

you were focused on wanting to solve a math question when the sticky note above your desk’s wall had fallen in front of you, revealing a new message. you place your pen down and let out a sigh, remembering that you hsve forgotten to write a reply and that mark probably sent you another one.

you tied your hair in a messy low bun before picking up the sticky note to get a closer view. you blink your eyes rapidly as your eyes furrow in awe. what the note said really shocked you and made you freeze in your spot. jaemin is friends with your soulmate? there’s no way.

you sat there for awhile as you constantly read over the words, still in shock with your moutb hanging open. you just couldn’t believe it. was it really what it seemed to be? another thought came to your mind as well. the thought of just who is this friend of jaemin’s? could it be mark? was your soulmate literally in the same place as you yet you never knew?

you grab a fresh new piece of sticky note and proceeded to write a reply after staring at it for so long and thought that it was finally time that you do something.

okay what you wrote really was weird. jaemin’s my old neighbourhood friend. its such a coincidence how you know him. i guess the connections are there. so haha yeah. damn. im very mind blown right now.

you take a look at your handwriting again, smiling to yourself. “i really do love my handwriting.” you mumble under your breath. you stuck the sticky note on the wall and resumed doing your homework, hoping that mark would reply soon.

while the boys were immersed in the horror movie they were watching on friday night, everyone turned their heads to each other when they heard the noise of a piece of paper falling onto the floor. in unison, everyone turned their head to where the noise came from and seeing the sticky note that fell.

jisung grabs the controller and pauses the movie. “we’re watching a scary movie and creepy stuff like that happens?!” jisung asks, stuttering out of complete fear.

mark decided to be the brave one after seeing everyone’s terrified face and stands up to pick up the sticky note, going back to take his seat on the couch soon after. “d-does that always happen?” mark shrugs. “well duh. that’s how i know she sent a reply. it wouldn’t be this scary if we weren’t watching a horror movie.”

everyone’s heads once again gather around mark as he read the note out loud. everyone gapes their mouth open, some covered their mouths while jeno could only stare at it in disbelief. “i guess we’ve confirmed its her.” mark breathes out, placing the sticky note on the table.

jeno reaches out to grab the sticky note to have a look. the unique handwriting that he suspected would belong to you really was yours. out of anger, he tears the sticky notes into two. everyone had their eyes widened at jeno’s sudden shocking action. mark snatches the now torn note back, looking down at them before facing jeno.

“what the heck was that for?!”

“dont talk to her anymore. she’s trouble.”

everyone lets out a sigh in unison except for mark, looking at everyone’s weird reaction. “what do you mean trouble? and why does it look like you all know something except me?” mark furrows his eyes as everyone exchanged glances continuously for a moment.

“she’s just not someone you should be with. that’s all.” jeno stands up and walks to his room, slamming the door shut and produring a piercing noise. the room was silent for awhile until mark speaks up.

“what am i missing here you guys?”

no one replies.

“we’ve been friends for a year and you guys are all keeping secrets for me?” mark scoffs in disbelief, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“we arent in the position to tell you. its jeno.” jaemin murmurs under his breath, looking down on the ground just like the others.

marks keeps silent and stands up from the couch, the palm the torn note was in is balled into a fist as he goes into his room as well.

haechan sighs. “jeno has to tell the truth. he’s been holding onto that grudge almost forever now.”

everyone nods their heads in agreement. “if not, he’s going to live in despair now that he knows she’s his best friend’s soulmate..” jisung adds on.

everyone could only silently hope that things could go well.

after that day you’ve sent a reply, you havent heard from mark since. you dont know why. due to your lack of information on him, it felt as if he disappeared into thin air. although only a week has past by, you felt concerned and somewhat worried for him. did something happen to him? what made him cut off his connection with you? its not like you did anything wrong.

out of pure desperation, you decided to skip school today. youve never skipped school before, and you felt so rebellious and bad. why did you do this? so you could go to dream high and meet mark in person. youve had enough of the sticky notes. you just wanted to see how he was like in real life, not having to think about it through notes.

with a little help from jaemin by texting him on instagram, you knew that mark’s class should be ending by 4pm, and you were there at 3:50 in the canteen where jaemin told you to wait. funny how the security guard lets a student from another school come in with a pass or anything.

you slowly start seeing groups of students going down the flight of stairs that lead to the canteen which had a path leading to the front gates. some eyes glanced at you as they notice someone who doesnt belong at their school, you couldnt care less though. your thoughts were only filled with mark. how he looked like, how he would carry himself. your anticipation was the only thing you felt.

you wore your headphones yet you could suddenly hear a lot of squealing and shouting. you look up, turning you attention to the stairs. a large group of girls crowding around another group of people, who you assumed to be guys. you scoffed, thinking about how there’s always that one group of good looking guys all girls seem to go crazy for. you watch as the group of guys push through the large crowd.

once you got a closer look, you tilt your head to the side. you slowly bring your headphone down from your ears and let them rest on your neck, getting intrigued by how the girls were getting so crazy, even more crazy than the ones from your school.

“its mark! he’s so cute!”

you widen your eyes as you heard the word ‘mark’. you stood up from your seat, peering your head up to find which one is the girl referring to. you only see two guys walking. one smiling sheepishly while the other kept a straight and cold face. just which one is mark?

suddenly, you felt an arm grabbing yours and pulling you back. you jump out of fear and turn around noticing it was jaemin. you calmed your breathing as you look at jaemin.

“meet mark under the block nearby. its too hectic here for you to talk to him.”

jaemin dragged you out of the school grounds and to a secluded block where only a few students where walking past and left you there. you were lost in confusion but decided to trust whatever jaemin was doing, sitting down at a random bench.

“jaemin told us to meet him here where is-”

“raven.”

“what?”

you immediately stood in front of the two guys you saw at the canteen as you notice a familiar face. you werent able to get a clear look at them before, but now you realise that you knew one of them. “jeno..” you look at a different direction a you tried avoiding his gaze, though you knew you couldnt, forcing yourself to meet his eyes.

mark looks at the both of you, utterly confused as his attention shifts from you to jeno constantly. “this raven?” mark points at you, tilting his head. you nod slowly as your turn your head to face mark. you observed his body up and down. he was good looking, just like jeno.. yet his aura told you that he was way more outgoing and open than jeno.

“you look...”

everyone was silent.

you gulp in nervousness. “im busy. bye mark.” before jeno could go, mark pulled on his arm to bring him back to stand beside him, earning a glare from jeno. the one you could never forget. “stay. i know something happened. you were always quiet whenever we talked about this girl. and i also know you all kept something from me.”

you slowly turned to jeno. you could he was annoyed whenever he looked at you. you felt it through his eyes, and it was terrifying. jeno took a deep breath in, folding his arms and placing his weight on one leg.

“if you remember clearly, chenle told you that before we became friends with you, we had a fight and didnt talk to each other for a long time. we didnt tell you this, but it was her who caused it. she brought chaos into our group. everyone forgotten about it clearly, but i cant. after what she did.. i cant forgive her.”

you opened your mouth, wanting to reply but your words were somehow stuck in your throat. you didnt exactly know what to say or do in this awkward situation.

“it.. it was a long time ago jeno, please. my feelings for you were real, even if we werent meant to be. i dont know how many times you need me to say sorry.” you pleaded, biting your lip as you waited for jeno’s reaction.

jeno sighs and runs a hand through his hair as he lets out a huff of rustration. “then why did you leave? you left me stranded, and because of you, i almost left my friends becaused i lived in agony since i missed you so much. i almost pushed everyone away.” you shivered as jeno’s voice started to raise.

you also glanced at mark, who still kept his confused expression on his face. through his gaze never left you as you felt his eyes scanning you body up and down.

“you two used date?” mark asks. you nod in reply.

“we were kids. we didnt know about all this soulmate stuff. but now..”

“you know what? be together. im not going to leave my friends just because of my pent up grudge and feelings. i cant control fate either.”

years had now past since you met mark. it really was fate. the two of you became close in no time and now.. you were fianally married. you couldnt be more happy to be with mark. who you were destined to be really was made for you, and you only. and to think this all escalated due to a note you sent out in pure curiosity.

you still remember what happened with jeno after that day, despite the lack of interaction between you two, jeno was open enough to accept you as his friend again. you are now living a happy life with mark, and always being able to hang out with his group of friends. today was no different.

“haechan get the chilli sauce!” you hear mark shout as you smile widely, feeling his arm snaking around your waist to pull you close. having a barbeque was a great idea to celebrate jisung’s birthday.

you soon see haechan with the bottle of chilli sause, placing it on the table where everyone gathered around the table which had jisung’s birthday cake. “before we do anything with the cake, let me announce my wish.” jisung announces proudly. you raise an eyebrow. “you cant say you birthday wish out loud!” you scolded jisung, but everyone laughs.

“his wish is something we all know.” jeno says, winking playfully at you. you tilt your head in confusion when you suddenly feel mark’s arm leaving you waist. you look over to mark who was shoving his hand into his pocket as if to find something.

you were completely clueless when mark nods towards jisung, to show some kind of signal. “i wish for mark and raven to get married!” jisung shouts.

you gaped your mouth open in shock when mark pulls out a small box, opening it in front of you to show a ring. you cover your mouth in disbelief. “did you guys really-”

“please marry me, raven. my sticky note soulmate.” you hear everyone clapping s a tear of happiness drips from your cheek. you quickly wipe it away as you heard the nickname that mark gave you. “we wouldnt normally do this but it was jeno that suggested this.”

you look over to jeno who had a soft smile on his face as he nod his head. looking back at mark, you grin widely as more tears started flowing out. “of course ill marry you, you dork.”

92 notes · View notes

nadiineross · 3 years

Text

widow angst abt not loving sombra but also maybe loving sombra, going in circles and circles like a lil caged animal, fucked up tenses and incoherent half thoughts bc its almost 4am i wrote this in 30min

Widow doesn’t know, sometimes, what to do with choices. She’s hardly had to make any since she became who she is. But Sombra always demands that she make them: choose the restaurant they’re ordering from, pick which car to jack, do you want to go on a date?

With most of her emotions, few of them as they are, she doesn’t know what to do with. Doesn’t know if she wants them. Sombra wants her to know and, that, she knows she dislikes. But she likes Sombra, so she puts up with it.

Sombra is demanding in this way. If it were anyone else, Widow would have shot them by now, for being so presumptuous, for the arrogance, the selfishness, to ask this of Widow.

But Sombra’s Sombra and not many people like Widow, so she has to hold on to those who do. Or she doesn’t. Many people like Widow. She’s pretty, she knows. She flaunts it, after all, to get what she wants sometimes. Those people, Widow wouldn’t think twice about killing.

Sombra is different because she actually gives a damn. Sombra thinks she loves Widow which is something they have argued about a few times—always, Widow lets the matter rest once she has said her piece, because Sombra can be stubborn when she wants to be, can outwait Widow when she wants to.

Sombra’s special like that. She’s silly, idiotic, callous, but underneath it all, she’s still the most independently capable, motivated, and intelligent person Widow knows. She’s entirely self-made, entirely in control. And she hides it all behind being a cheeky shit because it’s the smart thing to do and Sombra is so smart.

Being with her makes Widow feel powerful. At night, when Sombra’s curled up against Widow’s side, Widow will brush her ridiculous purple hair out of her face, trace the curve of her forehead, and think about how the brain encased in Sombra’s hard head can, and in fact has, toppled small countries on its own. And this very brain thinks it loves Widow.

Widow isn’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth—usually.

It’s a matter of practicality, really. Sure, she’s not who she used to be and physically can’t process emotions the way regular people can. But she’s not dumb; she knows how relationships work. She was married, for God’s sake.

She knows, logically, it’s about communication and honesty, and reciprocation. Otherwise, it’s just leeching. It’s being deadweight.

Widow can force communication and honesty out of herself. Those are things that are within her capabilities. The necessary skills and traits are useful to Talon, so she has them. Reciprocation is a different story. Reciprocation is difficult.

She likes Sombra, so she will make a conscious effort to keep her around. Sombra tells her that this is what love is.

Widow agrees and disagrees. Of course, she cares for Sombra’s wellbeing, but she cares about Akande and Gabriel, too. She would never claim she loves them, not in the way she might with Sombra.

That’s another thing: uncertainty. She is certain she doesn’t love other people. She isn’t so sure with Sombra.

Sombra can be very convincing, if she puts the effort in—coercion is her whole schtick, anyway—and this Widow also likes and hates. They’ve done a bunch of new and exciting things together, and most of it, Sombra had talked Widow into. Widow values those experiences.

But Sombra also talks Widow into things she’s not so enthusiastic about. Submitting a form to Talon declaring their relationship? Thinking about that day makes her want to murder someone. So awkward.

Sombra also talks Widow into thinking she might love Sombra back. And that’s good if she does, and astronomically bad if she doesn’t. Because honesty. Widow doesn’t lie to Sombra often. Sombra doesn’t care if Widow lies about work since she could find out if she really wanted to but, out of all Talon personnel, she is the farthest from a Talon loyalist and couldn’t give less of a damn about its goals.

Otherwise, though, Widow doesn’t hide much from Sombra. Maybe if Sombra makes Widow feel vaguely embarrassed about something, Widow will try to hide it just to save face, but Sombra sees through that like glass and Sombra almost never means to make Widow feel like that, never maliciously. So, it makes it okay. It does.

Widow can’t say the same.

Other people’s misfortune, especially brought about by her own hand, makes her happy. Makes her feel powerful. She can’t help it if an impulse to be cruel seizes her. It doesn’t come up with Sombra except when she feels cornered and that’s when she feels uncertain and out of her element.

Sombra is excellent at provoking those feelings. Again, Widow doesn’t experience feelings the way Sombra does, so it’s okay sometimes. Only sometimes.

The first time Sombra had said she loved Widow, Widow had called her stupid and left her in the cold. And Widow knew, immediately, that it hurt Sombra.

She knew it would be best for the health of their relationship if she apologized and explained herself, but there wasn’t a strong desire to do that, so she had left it until Sombra came and gave Widow a piece of her mind. After that, Widow had indeed explained, slowly, off kilter, mildly irritated.

It’s a mess. Widow doesn’t mind a mess but it’s not good for relationships and Widow wants to maintain this one. Wants to clean it up, knows which tools to use to do so, knows how to use those tools. Doesn’t, in the end, have access to some of them.

Sombra must know this. Sombra does know this.

Still, Sombra insists on telling Widow she loves her.

Widow can’t stand it.

Widow tries to stand it.

“That’s love, Spider.”

Widow scoffs at the thought.

When she was young, her parents got her a fish and Widow had tried to take care of it and failed spectacularly. The fish had died within two days. Trying isn’t sufficient.

She hardly succeeds, with Sombra.

She can do the easy things, the small things that don’t inspire feelings of triumph from Widow. If Sombra wants to be held, Widow will do it. If Sombra wants a sounding board, Widow will get comfortable. If Sombra wants to fuck with Gabriel, Widow won’t snitch.

She fails, however, if Sombra needs anything close to emotional literacy. Sombra isn’t perfect either, she knows. She is painfully aware.

Sombra is presumptuous and arrogant. Sombra asks for too much. She doesn’t care about Talon, and Talon is the reason for Widow’s existence. She makes everything a joke, just under half of which fly over Widow’s head. Flaunts what she has and what is wholly unattainable for Widow.

It feels like a test of Widow’s compliance. Endurance, really. Certainly not love.

“Love can be about endurance.”

It can. Widow knows all these things could count. Should count, considering. But she wants to do better, be better. And she also doesn’t because she can’t and it’s unfair that she should be unhappy with herself for something she cannot fundamentally change.

She’s a bit resentful. She’s a bit tired. She’s a bit unhappy and a bit apathetic about all those things. Never a lot of anything. So, relatively speaking, it’s significant that she feels this way.

But then, full circle, it’s about endurance. She will endure those feelings. For Sombra.

Sombra who endures, always. Whose entire life has been about endurance. Does it as easily as breathing. Sombra is strong and smart, and those aren’t things Widow inherently likes about Sombra.

Widow likes the way those qualities make her life better. Sombra solves problems and does things for her.

If she loves Sombra, then it would be because Sombra loved her first. Does it the best because no one else loves Widow and there’s no competition, really.

And is that fucked up? Is that wrong?

Should she care? Liking someone because they like you doesn’t exactly measure up to terrorizing entire peoples, which she does for almost no money or other benefits other than her own enjoyment and a few more hours with Sombra which, again, is also for her own enjoyment.

Widow looks down at Sombra and thinks in cycles.

Her eyes are closed and she’s snoring, head in Widow’s lap. Widow cards her fingers through Sombra’s hair and feels heady with power.

If Widow could be a better person, she wouldn’t want to be, she doesn’t think. Except when it comes to Sombra. Because if Widow could love Sombra back, she would.

#spiderbyte #overwatch #spiderbytefics

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multific · 4 years

Text

My Angel

Billy Hargrove x Reader

Summary: This wasn’t the “I hate him, I fell in love “scenario, you genuinely felt disgusted by Billy, or did you?

Billy used to be a complete asshole.

He was the kind you avoided at all costs. He was the kind mothers warned their daughters about. When in reality it was the mothers who should have been warned.

You hated him. Everything he represented and was. Even the way he took his breath was annoying you. Ever since he sat down in class right next to you, and started flirting with you like you were a piece of meat.

However, your mind changed for the better one night.

You saw him driving in front of you, a typical fast driver with no care of the world. He disappeared down the road. You continued on your way home when you suddenly saw his car, his windscreen broken but surprisingly the car was in a good shape. Since you thought he might have been in an accident, you pulled over. Billy wasn’t in the car, you were worried since he might be injured.

“Billy?” you called out but no answer came.

Then you hear a scream coming from the building beside you.

“Billy? I swear if this is a prank…” but when no answer came you headed in. You saw Billy holding onto the side of the railing as something was pulling him down. You ran to him and saw what grabbed him. You couldn’t believe it, you thought the gate was closed.

“I can’t hold.” you hear him say and knew you needed to do something. You grabbed a nearby heavy metal and threw it on the creature. With an “Ugly, bitch.” you were happy when it let go of Billy’s leg and ran away.

“Are you okay? Did it bite you?” Billy immediately stood up, but his leg seemed to be hurt.

“What the fuck was that?”

“It’s dead now, let’s go, I don’t think it was alone.” you helped him back to your car and put him into the front passenger seat and you took the driver’s seat. You took a mental note of the place. Hopper and the others will need to know about this.

You drove away and back to your home.

“Did you hurt your head?”

“No.”

“Only your leg?”

“My leg’s fine! I want to know what the fuck that was.” you knew you needed to lie, ever since the events of the last two years, you were one of the girls in the lab, the oldest one. You could control other people’s minds so you convinced the lab that you weren’t much to their use, and you were set free. You could sometimes control people’s minds, read their thoughts when you wanted to and heal others with your touch. You have been living a normal life ever since. Two years ago, Eleven got out as well and you were reunited. Then the lab closed, you thought everything will be okay.

“A wolf?” you asked skeptically.

“Don’t fucking lie to me! That’s wasn’t any animal!” he kept on yelling about how it ruined his date, jeans and car. You had enough.

“Yeah, because you’d believe me if I said it was from another dimension right?! Because you’d fucking believe if I said that my sister and I are a psychic, yeah a wolf is totally unbelievable.” Billy looked at you like you were crazy and for the first time you met him, he was silent. “Just don’t say anything. I’ll take you home, patch up your leg and then you can get back to fucking mums and ruin families. And I’m the crazy one.” He still had that stupid shook on his face. You gave him space and quiet for the rest of the ride.

Once you arrived to your home, you opened the door and then went back to the car to help Billy. To your surprise he let you help him. You went in and helped him sit on the couch.

“Put your leg up.” he didn’t argue. He put his leg up on the couch next to him. This is when you noticed how severe his injury really was. He either had a high pain tolerance or he didn’t want to whine.

“I’m sorry what I said before, but you can’t tell anyone about this, about me.” you looked at him, practically begging. “They will lock me up again, I cannot be locked up again! You don’t know what it’s like, the darkness, the emptiness. And the tests, oh the tests, please. Please, Billy, don’t tell anyone.” panic set in as you realized what happened, although the lab was closed, you never stopped to worry that another lab might take you, you couldn’t take chances. Billy realized the genuine fear in your eyes and all he could do is nod, but that wasn’t enough for you.

“I need you to say it, Hargrove!”

“Okay, okay, I promise!”

You let out a long sign and placed your hand on his wound. Billy looked at you and watched his wound heal itself. It wasn’t even a minute and his leg was back to normal. You were surprised he didn’t freak out.

“You should probably wash up. My bathroom is at the end of the hallway on the left.” you told him and got up to get a towel.

He took a shower while you sat in the living room. You blamed yourself for telling him so much. You shouldn’t trust him with such information, so then why did you?

There was just something about his eyes. Like he was begging for someone to save him, and not only from the monster that grabbed him. He soon came out of the bathroom. He was all cleaned up.

“You can ask. I can talk about myself maybe that will give you some answers.”

“So, who are you?”

“I hoped you’d at least notice me, we go to the same school, in the same class, and you even sat down next to me once.”

“No, I didn’t mean it like that, I know that. I meant like how can you just heal me with a touch??” for the stress he went through, you found him to be rather calm.

“Honestly? I was born with it. The place I grew up in was… bad, horrible. I was experimented on, they wanted to use my powers and only by controlling the people there was I able to get out. I’m not here to hurt anyone, I just want a relatively normal life, you know for being a monster I rather prefer simple things.” you let him absorb the info you told him. But you could tell there was still some questions in his mind.

“I can control people sometimes, real their thoughts and heal wounds. And I’m currently experimenting if I can do more when I really concentrate I can move small things. No, that’s not a weird question, I can block whose thoughts I’m reading so it’s not overwhelming when I’m in a crowded place. And I can communicate like this.” you answered all of his questions and the last one Billy could only hear in his mind.

“Amazing.” is what he said. “So that thing, that attacked me.”

“It’s not from our world. But I will make sure it goes back to where it belongs. You know for a guy like you, you are awfully quiet.”

“Well, excuse me, I think I just barely survived, then I learn that you have superpowers the last thing I want to think about right now is talking.” he pulled his cigarettes out but you took them from his hands.

“No smoking in here please. I will head to bed now. You can sleep here, oh by the way, I think your car is fine, it was left beside the road. Goodnight.” you stood and went into your room.

Billy slept on your couch that night and in the morning he went to get his car, then home.

You really hoped he won’t tell anyone. And in the meantime, you made sure the guys and Jim knew about what you saw.

The next few went on pretty normally. Bill continued his job as a guard at the local swimming pool, and you went back to your job at the mall. Everything went smoothly. Although Dustin almost got you into some mission against Russians, you didn’t want to get involved.

You worked in a shop as a shop assistant, selling clothes. One day, Max and El came to get some clothes and they said hi to you. The same day you were the one to close the shop, so it was rather late when you left to go home. And since your colleague drove you to work that morning, you needed to take the bus home. But when you got out, you saw an all too familiar car at the entrance with an all too familiar looking guy leaning and smoking against the car’s hood. You figured he was waiting for someone else so you just headed to the bus stop, but then you heard your name.

“Y/N!” you were surprised to know that Billy Hargrove knew your name. “I’ll drive you home, get in.” Maybe it was the fact that you didn’t want to sit next to the bus-creep or that you wanted to avoid the sexual remarks of the bus driver, but soon you found yourself in Billy’s car.

“Slow down, will you? I don’t plan on dying early.” you were extremely uncomfortable at how fast he was driving, and to your surprise, he slowed down. “Thank you. You drive like you are rushing your wife because she’s about to give birth,” you said with a huff, but your comparison made him laugh.

“Never heard that one before, Sweetheart.”

“Don’t call me that. It makes me cringe.”

“Doll? Sugar? Princess? Babe?” at that point you knew it was pointless to argue so you just looked out of the window. “Look, I have been thinking.” he said with a serious voice.

“Wow. Hope you didn’t hurt your head.” you didn’t know why you were so mean. Maybe it was because of your work you were tired of the fact that he spent the night and you didn’t sleep much.

“Very funny, but no. And I have decided that you’ll be my girlfriend.”

“Excuse me?” if you were drinking at that moment your drink would be all over his windscreen.

“It’s logical. I’m handsome and full of muscles. And you have superpowers. You saved my life, so you are a perfect choice.”

“Excuse me?”

“Come on, Doll. I know you want this too.”

You looked at him for a second before anger filled you completely. You made his car stop immediately, Billy could have flown out of the windscreen but you held him there.

“Listen to me, Hargrove. I’m not a new name on your list, and I will never be. I respect myself too much for that. I told my deepest secret and you are treating it like that’s only to me. I’m more than just that. Second of all, “full of muscles and handsome”? You are the biggest dickhead I have ever met. And to blame your father for it, ridiculous. You are your own person, just because he treats you like shit, you should never do that to others. Yeah, next time maybe hold your dreams in. I’m sorry what happened to you and you have been through a lot. But no. I’m not going to be your girlfriend so you can show me off like some kind of circus animal.” with that you got out of his car, shutting the door as you started walking home. You heard him start the car and he rolled along next to you, with the window rolled down, he started talking.

“You didn’t let me finish, Y/N.”

“Leave me alone, Hargrove.”

“I don’t want you to be my girlfriend just so I can show you off!” he stopped the car and got out, grabbing your hand and turning you so you were looking him in the eyes. “You are the first person I have felt safe with. And I’m not angry that you looked into my head, my father is a dick, and yes it made me one too. But when I was at your house that night, I finally felt safe. I could sleep without the fear of him getting in or yelling at me. I know how I behaved in the past was horrible, but yesterday changed me, you changed me. I have been thinking about this for the last few days, I think its love. Because I never felt this before.”

You still didn’t want to believe him, obviously, Mother Nature was on his side, so it started to rain.

“Get in, you’ll get soaked!” but soon Billy realized that you stopped the rain from getting on you, like an invisible umbrella. “Please, just let me take you home, it’s the least I can do after what you did yesterday.”

You decided to stop being a brat and got in.

“How’s your leg?” you asked silently he barely heard it.

“Hmm? Oh. Perfectly fine thank you, you really are an angel, My Angel.”

“I’m sorry for what I said. I wasn’t fair with you. You just annoy me.”

“I was called worse before, so no worries.”

“You annoy me Billy. You with your flirting, your perfect skin and hair and eyes. It annoys me how much I like you. I’m just like every other girl at the school who lusts over you.”

“Lust?”

“That’s all you got from that?”

“No. I got the part that my skin is perfect so are my eyes and hair.” there was a smile on his face and soon you smiled too. Seeing him happy made you happy as well.

“I won’t read your mind again, ever. I promise.”

“Feel free, Angel. To be honest not really much is going on in this department.” he said motioning to his head. “But this department. It’s always open.” he said lowering his movements to his crotch. It was obviously just a joke to make you smile, and it did. Soon you got to your home and he stopped the car turning to look at you. “How about I take you out tomorrow? We can have dinner or whatever people do on a normal date.”

“Dinner sounds nice.” you said nodding your head and avoiding his eyes.

He moved his hand to your cheeks and moved your head to face him, his eyes stared into yours as he leaned in to plant a small kiss to your lips. It was a short kiss, but it was all he needed.

“Then tomorrow Angel.”

“Six.”

“I should pick you up at six?”

“No, that was my name in the lab.” you shoved him the number on your arm. “Number Six.”

“Well, I prefer Angel. My Angel.” he said as he pulled your hand up and kissed your tattoo.

After that, you got out of the car and he drove home. Both of you excited for tomorrow’s date.

The day Billy got attacked, he changed. He met you and his eyes got opened. You became his everything, his safe place where he could be truly himself. Sure, with others, he was the same, but with you and with those who mattered, he learned to be himself.

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weaselbeaselpants · 4 years

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I have a lot to say and not enough time to say it. It hurts, but ya’ll know what this is about so if you want my full fandom retrospective opinion thing guys, here.

I’ve been following Vivienne’s art and career since I found her on dA in 2009. I’ve basically grown up with her and have a wide range of opinions up and down her collective work. I must stress that I do not know her as a person and no matter how critical I get in my personal time if I somehow met her in real life or converse with her online again (like, back in the day we went back and forth. She was pretty nice to me), I’d be humble and congratulate her for her success.

Critique does not, EVER equate to attacking people.

But

the reason I don’t call myself a VivziePopVivzmind-fan is the exact same as to why I don’t like the proud use of ‘anti’. Let me try and explain -

The vast majority of Viv fans are just that: fans. Viv’s one of their favorite artists and they’re happy for her and obviously defensive when some mouth breather pops into their fan discussion calling her and all of them trash. Quite a lot of the Hazbin fans I know in my circle of friends are all pretty accepting and agree on the problematic notions and implications of her work.

HOWEVER, there’s a vocal minority in the VivziePop fandom that were and still are toxic. Their specific interest in Viv back in the day was toxic...and now that she’s moved on into a successful career I doubt they’ve gone away, considering the things I’ve heard. These people - they’d flood Viv’s comments sections and stuff with messages like they were talking to her when they weren’t and they’d unironically call her a god in a way that feels like gaslighting, ex: “I’ll NEVER be as good as you Viv! My art is just sooooo unpopular oh god you are incredible no one will ever like you as much as meeeee”. It made me uncomfortable. It made me not want to be around her because these people took Viv’s role in their lives so seriously and their demand for her attention...it struck a nerve.

These same fans have been around long enough to see actual shitlords - the likes of Kiwifarms and tapatalk wikis - come in and actually harass Viv. Viv’s been sent revenge porn by sick freaks who think they’re funny and believe she deserves it. No. In my non-name fan bystander opinion, Viv’s got some shit to work on, but no one deserves raperevenge porn. EVER. It was genuinely bad and yes Viv and her base have every reason to NOT TRUST these communities. Unfortunately, when these incidents happened, these particular fans took it upon themselves to gatekeep the fandom and act like Viv’s unofficial guard against any kind of decenting opinion of her, all without her say so.

((to the critics who will be all “but Viv or Faust said THIS to their fans-”, like I said, Viv’s far from perfect but regardless of how much she prolly wanted people to side with her I’m gonna guess that she didn’t want people sending transphobic death threats to DollCreep. Again, and this is coming from a bystander here, I have a feeling Viv knows about some of the toxicity but doesn’t know how/want to address it - which is a conversation all it’s own.))

This particular breed of VivziePop “fan” holds so much toxicity in her fandom(s). They aren’t the only cause, but they’re there. They feel entitled to her attention and her approval. They creep me out. Having spoken to other much-less critical admitted fans of Viv around me, these fans appear to creep everyone else out and put the rest of the fandom on edge. They’re gatekeepers. They’re creeps. Like the bronies and SU fans of yestertodayyears, they know harassment exists and that people have crossed the line - so they think any means is necessary to prevent that is automatically good. I could pile together all the incidents and folks who’ve had bad runs ins with this aftershock of Viv-obsession, but I do have a life of my own and this post is already stupid long so I’ll just list out the biggest examples and provide receipts when asked.

Critical blogs have gotten RAPE and death threats because they don’t like Viv’s art. HonestZoophobiaCriticisms, a blog I interracted with back in the day, def got one. Now Viv’s opinion of crit-blogs is that they’re “bad takes” but I can assure you she doesn’t want that shit being said on her behalf.

I’ve seen young artists get blacklisted from sites and forums cause they so much as post a redesign. Viv and co get told through the grapevine that someone’s making hatespeech and so preemptively block said person (prolly cause they’re in the middle of WORKING and can’t deal right now) only to find out after the fact that no, it was just a kid drawing their version of her characters. There’s serious miscommunication issues within the fandom about who’s ‘good’ or ‘bad’ and once you get the actual staff involved in this game of telephone you’re begging for trouble. The problem acknowledged, however, it’s souly from the “Viv never did anything wrong camp”. No word is said about how ugly the fandom is under the surface it’s all one type of person’s fault and not complicated’. Blah

I’ve only ever had ONE obsessive ‘fan’ who’d stalk me, mock me, and then redraw my art just to get attention from me. That shit fucked with my head. As a follower hundreds of miles away from Viv who’s agreed/disagreed with her through the years - I absolutely believe her when she says she hates ‘creeps’ and that she doesn’t want anyone in her fandom spreading hate on her behalf. It’s the one thing about her I’m POSITIVELY sure of. Whether she believes that said underlying harassment exists and/or is even a problem within her fandoms is anyone’s guess. That’s not what I’m here for. I’m here to write stupid blog entries like this, talk about fandoms and media and how they and the real world affect one another, and rb fan art I like. I’m cautiously optimistic fan with a side of salt.

Mixed opinions and critique within a fandom CAN and SHOULD exist. Hazbin Hotel has been greenlit by a studio! It has a product line of merchandise you buy. Helluva Boss is getting eight more episodes this coming year (yeeee:3yeeee). Two of Viv’s properties are now products. Nothing is immune from critique. And in critique you will find a lot of people who are not ‘nice’. Critique or analysis doesn’t have to be nice. There will be, in Viv’s words’ ‘bad takes’ on her writing. Maybe they will be actual CinemaSins-styled bad takes or maybe Viv is just mad that people don’t love and feel inspired by her characters the way she wants them to - it’s a fact she’s going to have to get used to.

((TBH, I’m pretty sure she’s already realized that criticism of all types need to exist. It’s just that, again, her and the SpindleHorse staff are kind of overwhelmed by all matter of takes and opinions coming their way they kinda can’t deal weeding out the fair ones from the assholes, so she lumps them all together.))

Shitposters, ironic fans, unironic fans, critical fans, just critics of Hazbin and Helluva CAN and WILL exist. They should exist and not feel threatened by the megafandom. There are people out there who are one step further and rightfully bothered by Hazbin/Helluva’s use of incorrect symbols, portrayal of certain topics, and the response by creators. These people have strong opinions and are actually disgusted by Viv. They deserve to exist too and should not be vilified because, like me, they’re commentary doesn’t consist of anything personal towards the people at Spindlehorse or the fans of her works. They can rant, they can be professional, they can be petty and they can be fair. But they will exist. You have to deal with it.

I am an ADD/OCD ridden autistic woman with serious anxiety issues who has no one to talk to half the time and so only HAS my fandom to communicate with. But that’s just it - it’s a fandom. A community. You have to learn to not think souly of yourself and of others in a community. A fandom doesn’t exist just for you or any one person. You have the right to be angry and defend or be offended. And it’s in the spirit of that that I ask, prrraaaaaay even, that I please

NOT BE CALLED AN “ANTI-ANTI” for not liking the moniker?!

I DON’T TO BE AN “ANTI”. Not ironically, not unironically. ‘Anti’ should be for politics and shit like pedophiles, necrophiles, nazis, serial killer stans, Trump, racists, antisemites, terfs, animal abusers, rapists, and antivaxxers. Anti should only come into critical media analysis when these ethical issues follow suit IN TO fandom discussion. ((EX: Anime and MLP proudly waving their cp and non-con into the public eye; Hazbin appropriating cultural symbols which are not satanic; Basically anything that concerns John K or Butch Hartman.))

If your DNI list unironically consists of the entirety of one fandom: CONGLATURATIONS! You have done the exact same thing these particular creepy Viv fans have done: monopolize the conversation. And yes, people I’m referring to, IT’S STILL A PROBLEM EVEN IF YOU’RE FIGHTING RACISM/SEXISM/HOMOTRANSPHOBIA.

There are hundreds of Vivziefans who ARE more critical, accepting of faults, interested in discussion and especially rewrite and redesign stuff who would LOVE to engage with you and give you a follow. There’s hundreds of people who no doubt agree with you!

But the thing I’ve seen these very proud AntiHazbinVivzieHelluvaWhatever blogs do is lash out at fans for continuing to like Viv and consume Viv’s art in a healthy way. What the actual fuck is your problem?

I get it. Say a crazy Hazbin fan gets on your case for even SUGGESTING Viv could be homophobic ((”SHE’SBIANDWORKSWITHGAYPPLblahablahblah”)). They get in your face, make some callouts, try to rile up support against you, leave disgusting harassment throughout your social media? Absolutely ban worthy. After that it’s perfectly understandable why you don’t want to engage with anything HHHBZPVivzierelated because you’re so fucking tired of being labeled an abuser or “just jealous” for having an opinion on a show you don’t like. I’m with you!

But,

A fan agrees that something in the canon is bad or that Viv did something they don’t like?

A fan likes your silly shitpost meme?

A fan asks if they can like Hazbin and follow you at the same time?

A fan does fan art of something you don’t like?

If your response to any of these ^^^ things is to get LOUD and accusatory, Vivsplain them about how they’re an absolutely awful person to ever question YOUR opinion, or just block them without a second thought? You’re a petty, vendictive shit and you also need to learn to let things go. I’m sorry but you do. As I already said, Viv’s work is a brand at this point, not just the work of a singular person. As such, there are gonna be mixed opinions and you can’t judge every single one of these people by what they like. You’re a shitty critic with a shitty attitude and yes that will demean the value of what you’re saying. This is bad because, if you’re trying to point out how Angel Dust’s abuse IS handled terribly; gay rep in Viv’s work is weak and terrible; the show appropriates closed practices; the fandom makes excuses for predatory artists and creepy behavior and individuals who have sketchy pasts - I’M WITH YOU. WE NEED TO BE TALKING ABOUT THIS SHIT. JUST BECAUSE THESE ARE ADULT CARTOONS SET IN HELL MEANS THERE SHOULD BE ANYTHING CLOSE TO 2013 PONY-TUMBLR. <<<---- this shit is as important to me as it is to you and I really don’t like being called an abuser or apologist for saying “hey maybe blowing up at ppl for the shows they like ISN’T the way to go about this”.

But I have, just like the good old days of 2015 Zoophobia of yore, been blocked because I admit to being tired of ‘Anti’ being equated to ‘critical’. Same with hater.

Critical DOES NOT = Anti+Hater. I’m fucking tired of people saying it does and I’m tired of people taking up the term as some weird form of fandom reappropriation. It’s stupid.

Tl;dr: Once upon a time, I was in a budding fandom for something I liked made by an indie artist I watched on dA. I wanted to be a bigger fan than I was already, but was told by toxic people within said fandom that I couldn’t be part of it for reasons they’d made up in their head about my ‘motives’ against Viv. My admiration for Viv or what I liked about Zoophobia didn’t matter because I thought the story was really rushed and people weren’t being truthful with how they really felt about it - ergo, I HAD TO GO.

Flash forward 8 years later- My opinion of Viv’s body of work has changed but I still find myself in love with her style and some of her characters. I want to be on a forum or service that gives a healthy look at the problems there are with this series and fandom...and I’m met repeatedly by petty bs where people are again at each other’s throats. And yes, I do think it’s causing more harm than good especially when you insist there’s a “x person shouldn’t be trusted” mentality when fighting actual fucking racist, xenophobic, predatory bullshit.

#vivziepop #vivziepop critical #vivziepop drama #hazbin hotel #hazbin critical #hazbin hotel critical #critical hazbin hotel #anti anti #antis #anti hazbin hotel #cause I want both sides of this debaucle to see this and I'm tired #K?

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nellie-elizabeth · 4 years

Text

Supernatural: Carry On (15x20)

Oh my god. Lol. So... did Andrew Dabb forget to read back through his finale script one final time before deciding it was finished? Because like... Dean says "if we don't keep living, all that sacrifice (Cas and Jack) will be for nothing." Cut to a comically short time later, where Dean dies and is just like "time to go, let's not keep fighting, I'm tired lol."

Like WHAT did I just witness. I'm so grateful, in this moment, to a little show called The Magicians, because in April of 2019 they ended their fourth season with such an egregiously terrible decision that I literally couldn't sleep for a week, I was shaking and intermittently sobbing, I had never felt so betrayed and devastated over any piece of media before. After that, I've sort of become numb to bad endings, and this is no exception. This episode was absolutely terrible and I'm just sort of like... meh. I'll ignore it. Whatever.

I do want to forego the usual "pro" and "con" sections in this review, and do a more traditional full-on ramble about my thoughts, because they're kind of convoluted, if I'm gonna be honest.

The first thing I want to say, is that this wasn't the worst finale I've ever seen. Objectively, it was a terrible episode of TV and an insulting wrap-up to a fifteen-year-show. But I have a very specific category for the worst finales ever, and those are the ones that provide endgame states for the characters that are... unfixable in a post-canon but still-canon-compliant world. So, for example, the How I Met Your Mother finale killed off the titular mother and betrayed years of buildup, and that's a real-world sitcom. There's no resurrecting people from that shit. Or like. Game of Thrones being an obvious recent example. The Rise of Skywalker is a good movie example.

This? It's a little different. The endgame state of Sam and Dean and Cas is that they all die and spend eternity in Heaven, where they get to be with all their loved ones. I mean, sure, we don't get to see that, we only get a throwaway line to imply that Cas made it out of Super Turbo Hell The Empty, but that's the endgame state of the characters. And that's more or less what I would have wanted, as like a... years after canon situation. Right? So yeah, this was a bad episode, but if I edit in the shit I wanted to see, none of it contradicts the canon in a way that's not workable. It's a sad world we've come to where this is all I can really grasp at, but there is a perverse sort of comfort in that.

So, should we talk now about how Dean dying is a betrayal of what they said this whole season, and maybe whole show was about? Ha. It's so ridiculous. It's embarrassing. I watched Dean's final moments and I was embarrassed for Jensen. For Dean. For all of us watching.

Just. Watch the end of 15x19 again, okay? Watch it, and hear what they're saying. Yay, we killed God, we killed the author of the story, which means we get to write our own stories, finally. We get to do that. After all this time, we're finally free. And what does freedom look like? It looks like Dean dying on a run of the mill hunt.

We get this little montage of Sam and Dean at the Bunker, you know? They're doing laundry and going on jogs and cuddling with Miracle the dog, and they're brushing their teeth and going on hunts, I guess. And the emotional resonance from that scene was just kind of... ennui? And boredom? And that's what's so terrible and depressing about this ending. It's so empty, because Dean didn't get to do the thing he said he was fighting for. Sure, he was always fighting for Sam, but he should have been able to fight for himself, too, right? He should have been able to fight for a life after the years of programming. He should have gotten to be a rock star or a chef or worked at an animal shelter or become a foster parent or grown old as Sam's brother, as an uncle to his kid. He should have been able to find love, if he wanted that.

Look, I'm not even mad that Dean died in a "mundane" way. It's not like "nooo Dean is too coooool to die in such a laaaame way, he's a bad-ass and he should have gone out in a blaze of glory!" That's actually not what I'm mad about at all. Sam died old in his bed, and Dean should have been able to do that too. This whole season, since finding out that Chuck was the ultimate big bad, was supposed to be about free will, and Dean never got to figure out a way to be happy and find peace. That's fucking dour and stupid.

I kept saying, in the buildup to this finale, that a depressing, grim-dark ending to this show would be a failing of the themes they set up, and, hey, they didn't go grim-dark, because the writers did not think this was grim-dark. They thought it was powerful and emotional and resonant. You can tell they thought that, even though they're... uh... what's the word. Wrong? Yeah. Wrong. You know what I realized while watching this? It was just a lamer, less resonant and appropriate version of Sam's sacrifice at the end of season five.

Right? Because after Sam yeets himself into hell to save the world, Dean just has to keep going, and as Cas says, "you got what you wanted, more of the same." Just... more of the same. And Dean couldn't hack it, he was miserable without Sam, and Sam came back and we got ten more years of the fucking show. And now... what, we just get that in the other direction? Because Sam is the strong one and can soldier on without Dean because his codependency was a little less crippling? Wow, what a great ending for him, I guess. It doesn't work because we've seen Sam without Dean, and he falls apart too.

And now the show ends with Sam alone. Sure, he gets married to a blur in the background and has a kid, but let me ask you a question, here. Did Sam... want to be a father? I didn't know that was a thing he wanted, that would make him happy, honestly. I had no idea. So this doesn't seem like it works as something even remotely satisfying as an endgame state for him either. It's bleak.

And it's bleaker because there's nobody else in this fucking episode, y'all. The other big theme in all of Supernatural, after "free will" would be "family don't end in blood." And guess what? Apparently it does? Apparently Sam and Dean are each other's whole worlds and nothing else matters? We get... an implied wider world but we don't get to see it. We don't get to see Eileen, Jody, Donna, anybody left alive for Sam. So from the standpoint of characters that we know and give a shit about, Sam loses Cas, Jack, and Dean and lives the rest of his life lonely and sad. Nobody else even comes to Dean's funeral. It's just Sam alone with the dog. Like... that's bleak.

This ending gave the fucking Wincest shippers everything their hearts could desire, for fuck's sake. Like. Why did they cater to that and not follow through on the idea that they had created a family and community beyond each other? You know, this thing called character growth?

To take a brief break from the negativity, I will say something here about Sam and Dean. In the weird hysterical euphoria of the whole Destiel thing a couple weeks ago, I lost sight of something, which is that for me, the draw of this show has always been the relationship between Sam and Dean. I was never a brothers-only person, but it was their fucked up codependent bond that drew me to the show over the years. I loved the idea of Destiel, but I never thought it was going anywhere, so really I loved Castiel, the character, separate from the context of his relationships. Having a big dramatic death scene where Dean says "I love you so much" and there's a forehead touch and Dean saying "it's always been you and me" and confesses that he was scared to get Sam at Stanford because he didn't know how to survive if he didn't have him, and to have Sam say "don't leave me" and then give Dean permission to go... I mean, all of this is catnip, right? All of this is great, like, in isolation, it was such an amazing "broment," as the fandom says. I mean, it made no sense with context, it was utterly insulting in every way, but Jensen and Jared acted their lil' hearts out and I could tell they were really in the moment.

So let's talk about Cas for a second, while I have you here... they never should have done the big gay confession. They just shouldn't have even fucking bothered. I'm telling you, that makes this whole thing worse. It felt completely intentional and weird that Dean never acknowledged the confession, never told Sam, never had a moment where he specifically reckoned with Cas' loss. But that's what I knew would happen. I knew it in my blood and bones, and as the meta started pouring in, I knew people were getting their hopes up for nothing. See, Cas saying "goodbye Dean" and the handprint on the arm... I knew that was their catharsis, that was the writers' and Misha's big goodbye to the character of Castiel. They thought they fucking nailed it. I knew we wouldn't see him again.

Like I said before, I have to be satisfied with an endgame state that doesn't totally suck, right? So, we get this throwaway line from Bobby that Jack fixed Heaven and made it not suck, and that Cas helped. This implies a multitude of things that are... comforting. At least Cas doesn't get that dour, dark, helpless oblivion that I worried he'd get. We can assume Jack plucked him out of the Empty, that he gets to be with his son, and that, if the fic writers so choose, Dean and Cas can have lots of gay sex up in Heaven. I think Misha not being in this finale was frankly a slap in the face to one of the biggest and most important characters the show has ever seen, you know? And I think that they kept him out of it so we could have Schrodinger's Destiel. Because if we'd seen Cas in heaven, and he hadn't confessed his big gay love, Dean could have been like: "hey Cas! Buddy! Good to see you, my friend." But since we did have the love confession, whatever Dean did upon seeing Cas would have to mean something in that context. So instead we didn't get to see him at all.

Which is stupid.

Also stupid is that the big sacrifice was to save Dean's life and then a couple weeks later he gets impaled on a rusty nail and dies anyway. Thanks for making the whole thing feel so utterly pointless and empty. No pun intended. Wow, they did Misha dirty, here, didn't they.

Turning back to Sam's ending, let's just talk about that for a minute. Like I said, I'm happy he got to live a long life and die an old man, what Dean always wanted for him. But nothing about that ending was more poignant because Dean was gone. In fact, it just made it super duper depressing and lame. There was no reason Dean couldn't have gotten a happy life, too. It adds nothing that he died young and unfulfilled. Like, you know how people joke about the end of the Titanic, where you see that Rose's Heaven is reuniting with Jack and everyone else on the ship, and people will say "well, gosh, that's kind of a slap in the face to Rose's family" since she clearly got married and had kids and grandkids? This is literally that! Like, having an ending where a young-again Sam Winchester gets to Heaven, and his whole Heaven, the thing that he needed to find peace after death, was a return to his brother... look, I'm not mad about that, but what the fuck about nameless blurry wife that we couldn't even confirm to be Eileen for some reason? What about everyone else?

And did Sam... keep hunting? Did he go to law school? Maybe there were background details that confirmed what he ended up doing with the rest of his life besides becoming a husband and father, but I didn't see evidence of it because I was too busy rolling my eyes out of my skull at how dumb this all was. So Sam just gets a generic "raking leaves in the yard" ending, like we saw for Dean at the end of season five, with nothing to challenge that. Even though we've seen why life outside of hunting, life without Dean, isn't satisfying for Sam, we're now supposed to accept it as how he spends the rest of his life, without seeing him put the work in to get there?

One thing I realized watching this episode is that it tries to play the middle. Like, with the Cas thing, they didn't want to make his noble gay sacrifice totally meaningless, so they couldn't just pop him back into the story, but they did give us one single throwaway line to reassure fans that he's not still in The Empty. So, people who don't give a shit about Cas can assume he's off being Jack's assistant and doesn't really interact with humans in Heaven. People who do give a shit about one of the show's main characters can assume that he has a home in Dean's little Heaven neighborhood too, and they all get to buddy around for eternity. People who don't like Eileen? Well, Sam married some nobody who we never got to meet. People who liked her? Well, you can't prove that wasn't Eileen, can you? Even Dean driving around in the impala waiting for Sam to die so he could finally be happy with his fucking soulmate or whatever. Time in Heaven is weird, Bobby says. It's metaphorical. You could assume that the driving montage was actually intercut with other moments, with Dean getting to see dear old mom (and dad, I guess, but ugh), and spending time with Bobby, with OG Charlie, with other familiar faces, and new ones as they finally reach their own deaths on Earth and come up to party with the rest of the gang.

Like, in a better show, in a world without Covid, maybe they had plans along these lines, to get more guest characters back and show Dean getting sappy hellos to a bunch of side characters in Heaven. To be quite honest, I would not have been mad about that. If you're going to make Dean die young and never give him the chance to find out who he could have been when the choices were all his own, which is, in case I haven't made that clear, a horrendous and insulting ending for his character... at the very least you could have given us the cheesiness of seeing him hug his friends in Heaven. Jeezus.

I want to hammer in this point one more time before I wrap up: they ended the show by saying that character development didn't matter. They had Dean's dying speech be a meta reference to the pilot episode of the show, they had him saying "it's always been you and me" and then they confirmed that with everything they had. Sam became a father, but did he have a happy life? Seems like he pined away for his dead brother for decades and then died. If the pilot had never happened, if Sam had stayed at Stanford and Dean had gone on hunting by himself, you know what would have happened? Sam would have had a "normal" life and married a woman and had a kid, I guess, and grown old, and Dean would have died fighting some vampires in a barn. This show has been on for fifteen years, and the ending did not honor anything about the journey the characters had been on.

A particularly egregious example is the early scene with the pie festival, where Sam is like "I'm sad about Cas and Jack" and Dean is like "if we don't go on living it won't honor their sacrifice" like... yeah, I get it, bringing people back from the dead time and time again is supposed to be a bad thing that Sam and Dean did for each other because they were selfish. So Sam giving Dean permission to go was supposed to be a growth moment. Sam and Dean accepting that Cas was gone and not even asking Jack to make sure he got sent to a happy eternity instead of oblivion, that's supposed to mean they've learned their lesson. And what a fucking lesson to leave things off on. Jesus, this is grim.

So like. As I try to figure out what to say at the end of this review, I will point out one glimmer of light in the darkness, which is that this finale isn't going to ruin the rewatchability of the show for me. I can still come back and re-watch without feeling like the whole thing is ruined by the ending. It's more than I can say for some other shows.

But honestly, if this was the ending we were going to get? Why the fuck not leave it open-ended? I did not enjoy 15x19 particularly well, but at least that episode left them on the open road, with a wide future ahead of them. Anything might have happened. It's their turn to write the story, right? Chuck is dead, the writer is "dead", the show is over, and now the possibilities are endless. That would have been an anticlimactic ending, for sure. But this ending just turns around and slaps the whole point of that first ending in the face and says "haha bitch you thought". They don't get to write their own stories. We see exactly how those stories end, and it's lame. Leave something to the imagination, yo. Leave it vague how and when they died, what their lives turned into. Show them in Heaven, getting to their peace at last, reuniting with their friends, including Cas. Put in a significant glance between Dean and Cas, and leave it to the internet to go wild about what it could mean. And never answer when fans ask "so what happened, when did they die? Did they keep hunting?" Just leave it vague. If this was the only ending they could come up with, I'd rather be left with questions.

This finale gets a low score from me, because they couldn't even pull on the right heartstrings to make me sentimental...

4/10

But the show as a whole? Well, it was a mess, and it had some seriously high highs and some devastatingly low lows. It's a bummer that the lowest low came in how they tried to wrap up the whole shebang, but like I said, this ending isn't going to ruin the whole fifteen-year run for me. We get to make up what happens next, and we can make Jack's new and improved Heaven our post-canon fix-it haven. I don't think there's ever been a show in my life quite like Supernatural. The fandom is so bonkers. The meta narrative of the show is so convoluted and twisty and goes in so many unexpected directions. I liked watching this show for its own sake, and also as like... an anthropologist trying to discover something about humanity and American values specifically. It wasn't always a pleasant experience, but it was one I know I'll never forget. My heart tells me to give the show as a whole a high score, representing the many, many hours of joy and dread and delight and horror I got over the near decade I've personally been watching. How do you wrap up fifteen years in a score out of ten?

9/10

#review #supernatural #supernatural review #spn #spn 15x20 #spn finale #lol y'all #it's been a JOURNEY

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skaashis · 4 years

Text

hunger.

➤ you are miya osamu

wc: 2.7k

warnings: food, op is hungry, miya osamu centric, manga & anime spoilers

note: I'm 1-2 days late to the funeral/party but pls accept this really short miya osamu character study (kind of. barely. There was hardly any studying as i’ve allowed the spirit of writing take hold of my hands for a solid two hours.) as my elegy/offering to haikyuu season 4’s finale and the 40 tabs of poetry & fics that crashed on me earlier this evening.

You are Miya Osamu, seven years old, and eating in the new ramen restaurant that just opened up for dinner. The place was apparently highly-anticipated as it’s apparently the first Hyogo Branch for an infamous ramen chain that's apparently rated with two Michelin stars. The interior is traditional and neat. The walls, floor, and furniture are of finished wood in varying shades. The staff look old, the chefs look older. You, Atsumu, Pa, and Ma are seated with menus and gurgling stomachs, and walk out with takeout. Hands chained together, you all walk towards the parking lot and Ma lets out a squeal of satisfaction saying, “that was real good wasn't it, Atsumu, Osamu?”

Atsumu being the dimwit brat he is, nods viciously as if his eyes aren't already drooping as a sign of an incoming food coma. He proceeds to say he’s reaaaaaaaal full! And how he really liked how soft the noodles were and how rich the broth was and how soft the noodles were. Ma hums in a smile then looks down to face you, asking you for your own opinion. You only shrug and say, “I’m full. Just not satisfied”

Ma looks at you, mortified. Pa guffaws his lungs out and manages to wheeze out how you better be thankful that you’re out of the restaurant's vicinity for you might have gotten your first lawsuit at seven! You don't completely understand what he means but knows it's something bad. In the car ride back home, you stare out the window and wonder why.

You are Miya Osamu and think that Aran Ojiro is hella cool. He’s got a hella cool name, hella cool physique, and hella cool lunch he brings to school one day. They’re pancakes. Not really the ideal lunch meal, but hella cool either way because they’re nop ordinary pancakes. They’re corn pancakes, except, as Tsumu (his new name that you both proclaimed post-meeting Aran-kun) says after taking a bite, there’s no corn in it. It just tastes like corn. You pull out your own plastic chopsticks from your bento to take a taste as Aran explains. He says there’s something his mom puts that called ‘cornmeal’. Before you could take a piece, Aran halts you and shuffles for something in his lunchbag, only to pull out a mini tupperware of freshly chopped green onions. With glimmering eyes, he recommends that you try it out with the green onions garnished above before you take a bite. You nod, take his advice, and your mouth explodes with colors. It’s beyond sweet or savory or spicy or umami. Pancakes have always been either flat or fluffy alone, never so interesting and flavorful until now.

Ma picks you and Tsumu up later that day and you ask her to buy some cornmeal and extra green onions the next time she goes to the market to buy groceries.

You are Miya Osamu and it's New Year’s. You’re also yelling at Tsumu too keep it up, who in return, is also yelling at you to keep it up. Ojiisan is chortling in endearment, Obaasan is cackling her lungs out. When the Mochi is finally done, you and Tsumu exchange glares with your arms folded in a huff. Tsumu mutters how you, Samu, is so stupid and dumb and slow, when you know for a fact that HE’s the one who’s stupid and dumb and slow. Obaasan, being the ever observant granny she is, hitches a brow teasingly and asks if her precious grandsons have changed their precious names into something else. You and (a)Tsumu splutter up a string of apologies and excuses, only for her to cackle once again, this time simultaneously hitting you both on the back as she does so. Ojiisan is the one to tell your Obaasan to calm down now as he distributes the mochi.

Obaasan smiles with the softening of her eyes after taking a bite of the mochi and says it's good. Both your and (a)Tsumu’s hearts swell in pride. She then smiles with her dentures flashed in a wide, cheshire grin, adding how it could’ve used a little more oomph! She says it’s good because food is always good when you’re happy. And you’re happy when you make decisions for yourselves. And when you’re making decisions for yourself, you’re supposed to make a decision that you think will make you happy. You and Tsumu nod while reaching out for your own mochi and she’s right, it’s too soft.

But you think, huh. It does taste a lot better.

You are Miya Osamu and firmly believe your brother is a curse. Or perhaps it’s the other way around. You’re the curse. Ma never told you who’s older or younger, and probably (likely.) (definitely.) for the best. Though, you’re also one half of the newly infamous Miya Twins™ (synonymous with: chaos incarnate) who have recently shaken the ground of the volleyball world. The other half of the Miya Twins™ is Atsumu, who puked in the bus before the first game in your first nationals that no one, everyone, would have expected you’d win. Of course, you only reach the semi-finals, but that alone is a feat in itself. Still, on the bus ride back to Hyogo, while your eyes aren’t swelling with tears anymore, they’re mapped with veins and your heart’s the one doing the swelling, but with distraught and a promise to give it your all until the very end as one half of the Miya Twins™.

You are Miya Osamu and the team that stands before you across the net is Karasuno. Whom no one, everyone, would have expected would come this far. They’re an amalgamation of rookies, geniuses, and straight up monsters. They’re an odd bunch but so is your team. You’re both standing in the court, in Tokyo, match being ingrained into the minds of every person watching whether live or through National Television that'll either last forever for them to talk to their grandkids about or just fleet away the next day. Either way, the memory of such alone is proof that they’ve come this far. So are the jerseys being drenched in sweat, bruises blooming on their forearms, and the muscles being more and more conditioned as each three centimeters of a second passes by.

“Hey ‘samu? I’m startin’ to feel hungry.”

“Me too, ‘tsumu.”

You are Miya Osamu, scarfing down on the third best gyudon you’ve had in your life. It’s served in the Tokyo branch of a well known gyudon chain and only the third best ‘cuz Ma’s is and will always be the best, and yours will be the second best because you’re seventeen and self-proclaimed one hell of a home cook. It’s third best probably because of the garnish or the beef’s quality or how well-cooked the rice is. Or the fact that you’re eating it right after a loss. Food is always better when it's used as comfort or a coping mechanism. If it’s decent and you’re feeling like shit, your brain always registers it as the best thing in the world for at least the next few days. But you’re smarter than Gin who’s ordering his third bowl because it's the best gyudon he’s ever had in his life. But also, food is always better when you’re happy, when you make a decision for yourself that you deem would make you happy. You’re not happy, but you’ve decided that you’re gonna be the junior Kita-san’s forever gonna brag about.

You are Miya Osamu and practice the next day is grueling. Even fiercer and vicious than the already fierce and vicious practices your body had been accustomed to pre-nationals. Not completely by coach’s order, rather by the hunger born as an aftermath from yesterday's events. It’s also a water break. The mere three minutes your body is given to repair its own muscles before another set of serves. Riseki mentions how yesterday, Kita went on another one of his strange speeches in the midst of the match. He reiterates how Kita believed everyone on court were monsters and all, that's really the bare minimum Riseki’s pea brain, in comparison to Kita-san’s argentinosaurus of a brain, was able to absorb. You nod and hum in acknowledgement, after all, you thought the same too at one point of the match. But now-

Your gaze shifts over to ‘tsumu who’s across the gym and trying to create a heimlich by punching his chest. God knows what he’s choked himself up on again this time.

-your face twists into nonchalance. Even from the other side of the gym, you feel tsumu giving you the stink eye as Aran’s obligatorily assisting him. It's probably the twin senses. The guy’s no monster. Even if he was, monsters are supposed to be terrifying. Like the ones scaring you from under your bed. Or crawling up from a well and out of the TV screen. Or dipping fingers along with a french fry into a ramekin of ketchup in a team outing, like what Tsumu doe— Ah.

(Later that night, he does it again. He’s no monster, just a stupid fuckin idiot.)

(A disgrace to humanity.)

You are Miya Osamu, it’s the week after the last Spring High National Tournament, 1AM, and you should be asleep. Instead, you’re googling: what the fuck do retired athletes do when they’re retired. Your back isn’t aching and you dont smell funny yet, but you’re a teenager and tired and your brain whirrs in the strangest of times. The search results are blurry as like does a black hole, sleep succumbs and swallows you into itself.

You are Miya Osamu, holding your brother in a headlock. The catalyst to the impromptu wrestling match in the gym was you admitting to Atsumu that you’re no longer playing volleyball after highschool. Some delusional part of yourself hoped for some kind of peaceful talk. Y’know, with puffy gowns and smiles and chamomile tea. But Tsumu’s childish and you’re apparently a FUCKIN’ [REDACTED] [REDACTED] HORSE-CRAP-LOOKIN’ [REDACTED] BITCHASS [REDACTED] [REDACTED] SHITTY SCRUB. As per usual, you throw each other, yells (Communication between the Miya Twins™ was either inarticulate yelling or twin telepathy alone and nothing in between.), and punches around. There’s no real winner or loser in your quarrels as either Ma’, the coach, or Kita-san is always quick to end it. This time, when Tsumu yells at you that when you’re in your deathbeds, he’s gonna say that lived a happier life, you grin fierce, proud, in pain, and attempt to keep tears from streaming down your eyes. There’s no winner or loser to this fight as it doesn’t, and will never end until you’re on your deathbeds trying to deem who lived a happier life.

You are Miya Osamu, sweating profoundly, and the touch of the ball your brother set to you barely quarter a second ago is faint. The Twin Quick Attack, Minus Tempo. He gives you a look that says “are ya still thinkin’ about quittin’?” You slam the ball down along with returning a look that says “fuck yeah.” The ball creates a deafening echo as it ricochets off the ground. 2014 Spring High National Tournament: Inarizaki High School vs Karasuno High School (2:1)

You are Miya Osamu, swearing you’re about to go blind because of the continuous flashes of cameras being sent your way in your graduation. Ma’ and Pa’ are in tears, so are a few of your classmates and teammates and juniors. Some people say that they wished highschool would never end but that’s a load of bullshit. Highschool sucked. Calculus sucked. Everyone many Some people sucked. ‘Tsumu definitely sucked. Playing volleyball— didn’t suck. It never sucked.

You are Miya Osamu and adult-ing sucks. Taxes, landlords, income— Never have been fond of economics and likely never will. They said that when you become an adult, you’re finally gonna be thrusted into the world of freedom and happiness. Freedom is for everyone, children and adults alike. Happiness on the other hand, is temporary and reserved for times like a good lunch, and only permanent for people swimming in bills and coins and gucci. You? You’re just some guy making equilateral riceballs for a living. The food industry is always a gamble. To make a name for yourself, you’ve gotta keep thriving. To keep thriving you require consistency in improvement. That means more branches, more flavors, and more investment while making sure the quality never drops. It's difficult and mentally taxing. It also makes the whirring of the ceiling fan seem louder than it should be, making you feel smaller, more alone, than you should feel. You take another piece of manchego and narrow your eyes into the list of potential new flavors you could sell. A high-pitched DING! from your phone causes you to lose the staring contest you’ve had with the sheet of paper in front of you.

From: Kita-san

I’ve prepared the rice for pickup. See you tomorrow, Osamu.

You grin at the notification and text him a quick thanks. You stand up and flip the paper around in order to get read for bed. Something tells you you’ll figure it out somehow and soon.

(you do. Spicy pickled cucumber onigiri is fresh and a well selling item in Onigiri Miya the moment its introduced.)

You are Miya Osamu and firmly believe your brother is a menace, but also a nuisance. Yet here he is, likely (definitely) unaware of the splatter of soy sauce his cheek is smushed upon that you weren’t able to clean up from the former customer as he’s too immersed in his own personal venting. He’s whining on and on about how he can’t seem to perfect this new special serve he’s been working on for a while now. You’re familiar with this co called “special” serve he’s trying to pull off as it’s been the only thing he’s been texting you daily about. Because you’ve heard of it a hundred-or-so times and you were also supposed to close up ages ago, until he came waltzing in with that stupid pout and blonde hair of his. He’s a menace and nuisance but also your brother, so you offer him your own two cents and fresh onigiri. The night goes on with you both talking about Kita-san and life and the time Bokkun got his hand stuck in the pipe system back over in the MSBY dormitories. As you close up the shop and part ways, Tsumu yells at you saying he hasn’t figured out the serve yet, you yell back at him that he’ll figure it out somehow.

(he does. he debuts the new menacing northpaw serve, entitled the “hybrid serve” the next match the MSBY have.)

You are Miya Osamu and formally meet Akaashi Keiji for the first time. You recall him as one of the setters for Fukurodani, the highschool that often appeared in lists of participatory schools in the nationals as well as the former abode of your brother’s teammate, Bokuto “Bokkun” Koutaro. The dude’s nice. Probably needs more sleep, but generally nice. Seeing him and so many other people from highschool all gather up in Sendai for the match fortifies its already well-established significance. The crowd quivers and roars in awe as the MSBY win, some of shock, others of pride, many over at the Adlers side in goodbye to the sum of money they’ve pooled into bets. You quiver and roar in a grin, proud of your brother and the incoming flock of hungry customers coming over to your stand.

You are Miya Atsumu and your brother is Miya Osamu. No surprise he’s 60+ and still making those stupid equilateral riceballs of his. Probably because he’s got his life up together. Definately because he’s a FUCKIN’ [REDACTED] [REDACTED] HORSE-CRAP-LOOKIN’ [REDACTED] BITCHASS [REDACTED] [REDACTED] SHITTY SCRUB. You enter the shop and the doorway is no longer one you’d have to duck for in order to enter. The place is really neat. Sumiko-chan (16, working part time) welcomes you back and says Osamu-jiisan’s break is still in an hour or so. You wave her off saying you’re just gonna get a minced tuna and spring onion onigiris to go. She nods and tells you to wait for five minutes. You do so and in those five minutes, you watch ‘Samu smile as he’s heartily making those stupid equilateral riceballs of his out of rice and love and whatever the fuck each flavor requires.

He’s probably happy. You're probably happier. But he’s definitely happy.

#miya osamu #haikyuu!!

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lost-eternity · 4 years

Text

Matchup Requests *CLOSED*

This was done as a trade instead of a standard match up, hence why I am permitting it. :)

Matchup for @stormra

okie dokie I match you with...

I have to admit, this was a bit of a difficult one. It was really between Charles Grey and Sebastian. And it was close. But a few small details caused me to lean towards Grey instead of Sebby. I’ll explain why later on.

First of all, your love languages mesh rather perfectly

Charles Grey’s (inflated) ego causes him to thoroughly enjoy the praise and affection you lavish upon him

He enjoys being treated as a prince and has no inclination to returning these affections

It’s a selfish love but weirdly enough, it works

He also doesn’t give enough craps to care for society or propriety to be embarrassed or ashamed of your advances

He is quite inept at displaying physical affection and his attempts are half-hearted at best

It’s that blasted ego again

But he does try. In his own little way

He may (attempt to) awkwardly cook something for you, or more likely than not, force you to take fencing lessons

He always wins

And he goes really hard on you claiming that you would never learn if he went easy

It’s laborious and by the end of each session you are close to collapsing from exhaustion

Insert a lewd joke here, “Oh, my dear, if this is how easily you tire, I better condition you for my bedchamber...”

Yeah, it turns out he is a complete pervert sometimes

But fencing is one of the few ways he can actually express himself

Which seems a bit paradoxical if that expression is affection or love

But it is kind of cute.

He is determined to teach you, and although he may not be the most outwardly affectionate, the amount of time and effort he invests in you is enough to tell you how much he cares

He is a very busy man you know, running missions and odd errands for the queen

His free time is extremely precious for him

So the mere fact that he is spending it with you is a lot more monumental than most people would assume

But you are smart enough to realise this

And that is one of the reasons I did not pair you with Sebastian.

Sebastian is a lot more how shall we put it... salacious. His flirting is subtle in public but that bastard would do anything to make his lover blush, testing the limits of society and still managing to get by without being caught... somehow. It’s his way of exercising control and I think that would really clash with your love language.

So,

Charles Grey is also a rather chipper fellow.

Like "chipper" may be an understatement

Excitable puppy man is more like it, at least when it comes to fencing... or maiming... the dude has weird hobbies

But he really understands your desire to travel. He is full of jittery energy that he uses releases running errands for the Queen, travelling across all of the UK. And really most of Europe running diplomacy missions and handling sensitive cases

He would probably be hesitant to allow you to accompany him

But you'd wear him down eventually

Grey really understands your wanderlust, he has a hard time focusing on monotonous tasks or locations as well

So he may allow you to join him

With one *small* caveat

You have to defeat him in a fencing duel first

Which is absolute shit. But you understand where he is coming from.

That ego of his leads him to consider himself the best swordsman in Europe, if not the world

He figures that if you manage to strike him down then you could handle yourself with anyone

And that is no small task

It seems entirely daunting and near impossible (which is probably another reason he assigned it)

And that brings me to my next point.

Charles Grey needs some who is open minded and chill enough to out up with his shit

But also stubborn and outspoken enough to shut him down when he tries some spectacularly stupid

Which is why you would work well with him. Not only does your nonchalance perfectly foil his constant energy and inquisitive nature, but you also have set your boundaries and know when to shut down schemes and ideas

So yeah

You begin training extra hard

For maybe like a day

Then you give up

It's hard, everything hurts, you are exhausted, and all you MIGHT get out of it is one lousy trip

So you begin putting training sessions off

"I'm not feeling well."

"I'll start once I finish this book"

"Oooh, it's too late now"

To say that Grey would be discouraged and slightly hurt is an understatement

His passion and life blood is fencing. He has worked really hard to get to this point and the fact that his significant other takes no interest in it wounds him

This could definitely be a point of discourse if your relationship

But you have to remain open with each other and talk it out

That is the most important thing. Communication. And let's be honest. Charles isn't not going to say shit

He is "too manly" or too egotistical to admit his feelings

You'd have to be the one to approach him on the matter

But I feel like you would. You are used to hearing problems from your friends. You know when something is wrong and better yet, you listen

After a talk, he understands that it may not be the fencing specifically you are disinterested in

But you just struggle to maintain motivation

And from that moment on, Charles Grey becomes your personal cheerleader

He's the mom at a soccer game freaking s c r e e c h i n g and going "that's my girl!" whenever you win a match

He takes pride in all he does, and he is proud of his protégé

He never allows you to lose motivation and is (annoyingly) insistent about the fencing

Which again, could lead to some arguments if you resist

But he is doing it from a place of love because he can see how miserable you are cooped up in the same place

He knows you

And finally, the day arrives that you set to duel Charles Grey himself. If you win, you get to attend some of his missions with him (others are too sensitive to risk being seen by a civilian)

You are understandably nervous, but also introspective. Honestly it is probably a tidal wave of emotions far too complex to convey with words

But ill try

Let me just....

This morning was like most mornings.

A heavy fog blanketed the docile countryside, most animals just began to shake off the effects of the previous night's slumber.

Commoners rose with the peeking rays of the sun, beginning to perform their routine tasks before the last of the fog had been burned away by the heat. For most people this day was completely, utterly, ordinary.

But not for you.

This day meant everything. This day meant your freedom.

You had risen before even the sun, shedding your skirts in exchange for ivory fencing gear, exchanging your fan for a rapier and your hats for a meshed mask. This had been your life for the past year, and would continue to be so until your final breath.

But today. Today was different.

Today determined your future. And quite frankly, your sanity.

And all you had to do was defeat your lover in close quarters combat. A monumental task in-of itself. Half of your acquaintances thought you mad, the other half patronized you, treating your struggle as a desperate cry for attention. They simply couldn't understand why a lady would go through such trouble as to challenge the country’s greatest swordsman. A woman's place was in the house, and in home is where she is complete. Why would she bother her pretty little head and sully herself in the wretched world around her? That was a man's job, such trifling affairs should be of no concern for a lady.

"She is odd, that one." They would say. But they didn't understand, how could they?

Raised under the constrictive hand of the patriarchy, they were forced into complacency. A complacency so culturally ingrained that they themselves never sought to question it. Or, those that did often keeled to the whims of man's iron fist in fear of social ostracism and reputational backlash.

But you were different.

From childhood you felt the pangs, the longing to not only see but experience both the beauty and sorrow of the world around you. To learn and ingrain yourself with the cultures, to explore every nook and cranny of your planet. You could never understand why those around you seemed so content with living and dying inconsequentially, never experiencing the midnight sun or the sweeping winds of the steppe. Dying without ever truly living. Merely existing in their self-made reality, completely ignorant to the bright, beautiful world around them.

Why stay put when you can travel?

Why exist when you can live?

These questions, along with the persistent voice of your instructor (and fiancé), kept you focused and motivated. All of that training, all of those hours of arduous, grueling work had lead to this moment.

You stood within the fencing hall, the lack of bodies usually present caused the room to echo with each clicking foot fall on the tile floor. It was wide, empty, and entirely unwelcoming. It felt like a stranger to you, despite the year of training you had completed within its walls.

Before you stood a similarly dressed figure, its face obscured by the dark meshing that covered the helmet.

It was entirely impersonal.

A faceless enemy in a sea of a faceless crowd.

But you knew better. His posture was all too familiar to you. The slight tilt of his head, the pitch of his shoulders, the strangely comforting steady hand in which he held his weapon. This was your lover, Charles Grey. And your opponent.

It was definitely surreal. He rarely ever wore his mask in training. The absence of his characteristic gloating smile and talkative nature felt almost lacking. It was rare that he would be so quiet... so solemn. But he was just as aware of your current situation as you were. And how much it meant to you.

Without a word, he raised his weapon and the battle commenced.

It was an intense battle

With every blow he performed, your parried and dodged

With a feline grace, you danced up-top light heels, twirling and spinning in an almost melodic fashion

Metal clashed against metal, each crack ringing through your ears

You had trained enough with him to know that he had a tendency to leave his left side unguarded and exposed

But he also trained with you to know that you can forget to guard your knees

And as the minutes tick by, marking one of the longest conflicts you had ever had with him, exhaustion sets into your bones

And you falter

The blow is lightning fast, you hardly have a chance to comprehend his movements

But his hips are besides yours, his knee hooked behind your leg.

He pushed you backwards with his forearm, causing you to fall backwards, only to trip on his knee and slam against the ground

Something cool and metallic is pressed to the back your neck

You don't need to look to know it is the rapier and that you have lost

The sound of you two's laboured breaths echoes through the empty chambers

Several seconds tick by as the two of you gather your thoughts

...You... lost

You finally turn yourself around, noticing that Charles had removed his fencing helmet

Damp silver hair sticks to his forehead, matted and plastered across his face

For a moment, a look of sorrow flickered across his handsome features, only to be replaced by that typical cheeky grin

"You lost, luv. Better luck next time, eh?"

You never really had much of a plan

But seeing that smug expression kicked your instincts into overdrive

With one fluid scissor sweep, you dislodged his balancing, a well-placed kick aiming where the sun don't shine toppled him over entirely

And then he was on the floor next to you, his face contorted in an express of pain

You were quick to discard his weapon and straddle him, keeping his wrists pinned above his head to the floor

"Lesson one: never trust your opponent"

You parroted this line to him, one he had told you many of times

He only managed a pained grunt in response

Chuckling, you apologized with a chaste kiss which he all too eagerly accepted

He was probably just being theatrical to get more kisses

You did not have much time to ponder the situation before a polite round of applause erupted from a nearby alcove

You nearly jumped out of your skin

You did not notice the shawled figure, cloaked in all black, like a walking shadow

The figure took a few steps forward, emerging to the light

And that is when you realized who it was

Queen Victoria herself

By her side, astute as always was the man you practically considered a brother

Charles Phipps

By now, you were extremely aware of the suggestive position you were in

Straddling Charles Grey, your hips against his, his wrists clasped tightly in your hands and pinned above his head

And oh, gods that insufferable smirk with which he was regarding

"As you can see, your majesty, my darling is highly... proficient." Grey practically hummed

You quickly scrambled to your feet, unsure how to handle yourself in the presence of a queen

Turns out, Grey had invited her to witness your duel in hopes of securing you a position under her employ. Either as an emissary or housekeeper.

According to Phipps, She was quite impressed by your performance, even though you lost

The only other person she had seen to be able to keep pace with Grey was Phipps... and a certain blonde who shall not be named

And that is the story of how you became the head maid for the Queen herself and an emissary on par with Grey himself, running missions as a husband-wife warrior squad, haha

You two probably met in an odd way

I’d say for a fact that you were attracted to Sphere music hall

It’s like that place was made for you

Semi-modern concert style music hall which people hailing from all backgrounds and classes intermingled together in harmony

Divinations and readings were done for free and in return, each patron was given a bracelet depicting their star sign.

As a matter of fact, a lot had to do with the star signs.

Meditations were conducted in between hours and food served

It was a really great place to go, somewhere you fit it because you had always been an outcast

Forced to keep your craft a secret in fear of retribution from the church, you usually made coin as a street performer and singer

It was not a lot, but it was certainly enough to keep you off the streets

Unfortunately that also meant you were constricted to the same place

Your family had consistently tried to marry you off to some rich white dude

Well, rich(er)

But you did not want to be wife and then a stay at home mother

That was somehow worse than your current situation

Also your opinionated and confident demeanour often scared off potential suitors

It was a serious problem because apparently women were supposed to be soft spoken and weak.

But you on other other hand, never showed weakness

It was far too “masuline” apparently

So you decided to strike out on your own and try to make it as a singer

Easier said than done

In the music hall, you truly felt free to express yourself

Its charismatic leader put major emphasis on the stars and night sky, he was extremely introspective and the two of you instantly hit it off (I considered matching you with Blavat instead of Grey but I kinda feel like you two would work better as friends)

You were completely enthralled with his demeanour and exuberance

And you consistently attended the hall as it was the only place you felt you truly belonged, no one casting judgmental stares, no whispers behind your back, and most of all, you felt a sense of camaraderie that you have never felt before

And as a result, you fell victim to the cult

Initially, the Queen garnered concerns over the existence of this Music Hall and the traction it was gaining. As a result, she sent out her very own Charles and Phipps to scope out the place before sending word to Ciel Phantomhive

Infiltrating undercover as guests, the Queen’s handy butlers began an inspection of the area

There they ran into you

Literally

You were in the middle of entertaining a small portion of attendees with a song at the behest of Blavat himself (he was actually looking to hire you as a backup singer for the Starlight Four but you were not aware of this)

You were reaching the crescendo of your song when a drunken man slammed into you

You uttered an apology but he seemed rather intent on making himself a nuisance

“Watc’ yaaaa, yaaa stoopid *hic* bitccccc”

You took a few steps back in response as he staggered forward, raising a palm as if to strike you

Before you could react, a flash of white covered your vision

A man stood before you, sword drawn and dawned in a blindingly white coat

Silver tresses rolled down his back, as he glared up at your attacker from behind attractively long lashes

How he managed to sneak a rapier into the party was completely beyond you, yet here he was

“Now, didn’t your mama teach you manners?” He cooed, a slightly maniacal smile across his lips

“Yoooou wanna go?” The man sneered, “I can tak *hic* you pwetty boooy”

Of course, this scene began to attract attention

The murmurings and pleasant violin music had all but stopped as thousands of eyes turned to face you

Blavat had to step in, nervously defusing the situation

He had the drunkard escorted out and moved to confiscate the weapon from the white-clad man only to get the think pointed at his throat

“A man’s worth is in his sword. It would be cruel to take that away from him.”

You were entirely unsure if he was being literal or making a dirty innuendo with that statement

Regardless of his intentions, he was promptly thrown out as well

Much to the chagrin of a separate, similarly dressed man who seemed down right exasperated with his partner’s trigger happy (blade happy?) tendencies.

You decided to follow this peculiar stranger out and thank him for what he did

You found him trying to crawl through a window, seeking re-entry into the part.

“Uh, excuse me...” You called to him as he fiddled with the lock on the window. You had no idea how he managed to climb up that high in such a short amount of time, but he had perched himself rather precariously on the window sill.

“Not right now, luv.” He called back, “I am busy.”

“I just wanted to thank you for what you did back there. I could have been hurt.”

He paused, not once looking back at you. “Right. Who are you?”

You were rather taken aback

He literally just saved you, how could he not remember you?

“Look, if you aren’t going to pay me the mind to even look at me, I won’t take the effort to thank you.” You huffed and turned to walk away

“I wouldn’t go back there if I were you.”

His voice caused you to halt in your tracks. You spun around to stare at him incredulously. “Excuse you?”

God, those silver eyes were breathtaking as he gazed at you, practically oozing with a feline grace

“Those people aren’t good people.” He stated in a matter-of-fact tone

“Oh? And what do you know about them?” You retorted defensively

“More than you, obviously.” He finally managed to pry the window open. “Her majesty has good instincts. She knows this place is dangerous, else-wise she wouldn’t have sent me.”

And with that weirdly convoluted and vague sentence, he slipped back inside and disappeared

You were left to ponder the meaning of his words

Her majesty?

This bloak knew the bloody Queen?!?!

What else did he know?

What could possibly be so bad about the hall?

You decided to call it quits early that night to process. You never thought you would ever see him again, or so you thought

You had been doing your research, sticking your nose in places you probably should not have

Blavat, someone you once considered a close and trusted friend almost seemed menacing to you

And he definitely picked up on your closed off body language

But you knew that something fishy was going on during those “private” events. Only specific people were ever invited (AKA not you)

It all just seemed really sus

And you were determined to find out

So you snuck in

Having spent many hours in the hall, you were aware of certain passages and entrances that others were not

And you were able to sneak in without much issue

But you weren’t able to see much

A heavy smoke filled the air, smelling pleasantly of posies and roses

Your eyes began to droop and heaviness set into your lids

And you fell asleep

You woke up, with the concerned and slightly perturbed face of Blavat staring down at you

Well, shit... busted

“We had a nice thing going, y/n. And you just had to ruin it.” Blavat stated callously. “You know those events are private.”

And with that, you were barred from entering the music hall... permanently

This was definitely rather devastating as it was the only place you could truly be yourself without fear of rejection of prosecution

But now you were more sure than ever that something was amiss in that hall

Why else would they be so strict?

You were probably only left alive because they knew that whatever gas they used to put out those in attendance also affected you before you could see anything incriminating

And so you began trying to locate that mysterious man in white

He seemed to have more answers than you did

It did not take long to figure out his name and occupation. Charles Grey. Butler to the Queen herself

He must have been quite the impressive butler to be going out on scouting missions for the Queen and not just serving tea

Regardless, gaining an audience with him was nearly impossible

So you would just have to attract his attention...

Somehow

Given his affinity towards sword fights, you were sure that a loud brawl outside the palace itself would almost certain garner his attention

The real question was, where in the world would you get people foolish enough to pull such a stunt and risk getting arrested

Sooo, maybe not that

You might have to work backwards

Ask around and find those that may be acquaintances with him

Which was a lot harder than it looked

It took days of searching, but you were eventually sent to speak with a mortician who according to your contact “knows everyone who is no one”... whatever that meant

It did not take too long to find out

This mortician was... eccentric to put it in the most polite of terms

But he was definitely connected with Britain's underbelly

Which you assumed is where the “everyone who is no one” comes from

You came in hoping to pay him off, to which he blatantly refused, instead asking for you to make him laugh

Which was an odd request but one which you were willing to comply if it meant breaking the case

You spent hours trying different tactics to no avail

Until you sang a very dirty and very perverted song (Most likely “God’s Loophoel”. Yeah, actually don’t look that up, it is exactly as it sounds)

He seemed to enjoy that far too much as his cackles were absolutely thunderous

In tears, he kindly revealed to you that he was familiar with this Charles Grey and could pull a few favours to get you in contact

But he never said when, nor did he ever say where

But he did ensure word of your snooping reached the ears of Charles Grey who surprised you in your own home whilst you were halfway dressed

He initially was very cross with you poking around, scolding you and chastising you saying that it was “no business for a lady”

But you shut him down pretty quick

And afterwards, the two of you hit it off and decided to make evening tea on Sundays a staple thing

Grey would inform you about the progress of the Sphere Music hall and in return, you would keep well away from it

It worked out for the two of you

But word of your sniffing around had also reached the ears of one certain earl and his own demonic butler

I would be careful about what questions you ask and where you poke your nose

We wouldn’t want it to get bitten off, now would we?

this was a lot of fun to write, I hope you enjoyed reading it, dear. Let me know what you thought

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