#I actually don't know if this counts as a missing moment because I literally wrote it like five minutes ago | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

m1ckeyb3rry · 6 months ago

Note

Hello,

I have a writing prompt for Michael Kaiser (Blue Lock): Kaiser gets into a pr relationship with an actress and they eventually bond and fall in love.

I think he would have a hard time because of his feelings of worthlessness, but this guy has so much potential, I swear, I love him so much.

If you want to go for a "dark side of Hollywood" type of concept, imagine: a young girl who was raised under the pressure of becoming "the perfect star" and surrounded by the chaos of the industry (Idk, the movie Black Swan comes to mind, or the typical representation of Marilyn's life, something along the lines). I think he could bond with someone who is in a similar mind space as him, but who externalizes it differently, remaining kind and such. He definitely needs someone who is empathetic and can see through his insecurities, and I really like the concept of two characters who are hurt helping each other heal.

If you don't want that much drama, scratch the idea of a hurt oc. Think about someone with an "entrepreneur" mindset: someone ambitious, confident, and level headed, who (again) is empathetic and would call him out and help him grow (I'm thinking about sae, but emotionally competent lol).

You don't really have to go for any of this though, it's just meant to get you inspired to write something for my boy Kaiser. I hope it's not too much. Also, there's no rush at all!!

Thank you in advance. I hope you have a good day 🩷

── THE INSTRUMENT

Synopsis: Michael Kaiser is like a rose, and you are the songbird he cannot bear to lose.

Event Masterlist

Pairing: Kaiser x Reader

Chapter Word Count: 6.8k

Content Warnings: fake dating trope, implied/referenced abuse, call me tabito karasu the way i assassinate kaiser’s character in this, open ending, relationship dynamics many would consider…interesting…

A/N: hiiii anon ty for requesting!! i hope that i wrote kaiser in a somewhat satisfactory way 😫 this is my first time writing for him so idk if i got him right 😓 also i have NO idea why but for some reason i decided to write this in the present tense which i literally have never done?? so if it sounds off that’s why 💔 i’m so sorry i really don’t know what possessed me SKDJFSHKL

Additional: part of my 500 follower event! see the event description and rules to make a request of your own.

It’s hot and like a bruise, your first phone call with Michael Kaiser. He’s that brand of aggravating and just shy of painful to speak with; morbidly, you wish for the conversation to manifest as some kind of actual injury, perhaps on your upper arm, so you can poke at it until it is tender and blooming. But of course, that sort of thing isn’t possible, so you amuse yourself by tapping your fingers against the counter and considering what you might eat for dinner.

“Did you hear me?” he snaps when you do not respond to his proposition immediately. He speaks with an accent, clipped and short, lending severity to his words even when he’s saying nothing of note. “Miss L/N. It’s in both of our best interests to cooperate.”

He’s not wrong about this. It’s the only reason you’ve stayed on the call for as long as you have — it’s in your best interest. It’s the same for him, too, and the thought almost makes you laugh, because who would’ve expected your interests and his to ever align?

“Of course I heard you,” you say, twisting open your bottle of water, taking a sip and idly wondering if he can hear an accent when you speak, too. It’s difficult for you to notice your own, but maybe to him, you sound as odd as he does to you. “You should learn patience, Mr. Kaiser. Such a heavy request you’re making of me, and yet you demand my answer immediately?”

He huffs. “It’s not something you need to dwell on.”

“It might be,” you say, though it’s not at all. Your mind was made up the moment he asked; everything after that has been nothing more than a ploy to irritate him. You’re good at that, at irritating people. Michael Kaiser is not an exception.

“Miss L/N,” he says again, something like a darker version of pleading creeping into his tone. “Your answer. Now.”

“Well, you already knew before you asked, didn’t you? Naturally, I’ll do it,” you say. “It’s a mutually beneficial partnership. Though I expect you to really try your best, Mr. Kaiser, or else it’ll all be for naught.”

“I could say the same to you,” he says.

“Between the two of us, who is the actress?” you say, chuckling when he is silent. “I am sure that I will be convincing. It’s you who I worry for. Hiding your true feelings has never been one of your strengths, has it? Or you wouldn’t be speaking to me at all.”

“Shut up,” he says after a moment has passed. “I doubt your acting skills are anything to brag about.”

“I know you’ve watched my movies,” you say, and when he doesn’t refute this, you beam. “Have you really?”

“Only because someone I know suggested I should,” he says. “If I want to love you, then I have to understand you. That’s what he told me.”

“And what did you think?” you say.

“I thought that I don’t plan to love you at all, and then I told him as much,” he says, the force of his eye roll transmitting even over the phone. You’re not sure if he’s acting deliberately obtuse or if he really thinks you care about this inane conversation he’s describing, but either way you sigh, because his answer is so telling of his personality.

“I was talking about my movies,” you say.

“I don’t prefer the genre,” he says, and then he’s hanging up with a promise to call you later, if he is so inclined. He doesn’t tell you not to call him, but you feel like he implies it, so you vow to set your phone aside and pay him no mind for the rest of your evening.

I’m dating Michael Kaiser, you type in the body of your email to your manager, who you are certain will be so delighted by this news that he will combust spontaneously upon hearing it. You want to type it again, this unbelievable turn of events, so you do. I’m dating Michael Kaiser. Then you delete the repetition, reverting it once again into a formal email, instead of a giddy celebration over an event which should not prompt giddiness or anything resembling it.

It’s a relationship meant to salvage his ruined reputation and boost your career in one fell swoop, and so it’s a relationship that can only work if it’s formed between you two in particular. He, who is a foul-mouthed soccer prodigy, known better for his crass treatment of others than any actual skills he may possess, and you, a rising star who will do anything to be famous and are already of a serviceable status to be seen with him.

Despite your burst of excitement, the prospect of dating Michael Kaiser isn’t actually a thrilling one. The rumors of his horrid demeanor aren’t rumors, and you know this well, albeit through secondhand accounts. Cruelty is the way that he operates, his so-to-speak basal mode, and because it is so intrinsic to his being, you do not fancy that he will deviate from that malicious rule, even for you.

But you are accustomed to a false existence. Donning a facade and masquerading as a person who you are not is the only thing you are good at, are good for, and this time is no different than every other. You will put on the mask of a woman who is loved by Michael Kaiser, who has tamed that mad emperor and turned him into her sweet pet, and you will once again fool the world into believing you.

He’s doing an interview today. You’re only aware because he texts you right before and tells you to turn on the TV to a channel you’d never choose if you had a say in the matter. But you’re intrigued and he refuses to explain further, so you do as he commands and find yourself watching as he reclines back in a leather armchair and smirks at the host, who’s clearly nervous.

She’s pretty, her hands shaking but her expression serious. You’ve never seen her before, which means she’s new. Of course, that’s not a surprise; only someone very inexperienced or very stupid would invite Michael Kaiser to their show, and she does not seem to be particularly stupid, so her affliction is the first.

“Um, Mr. Kaiser, it’s a pleasure to have you with us,” she says, like she cannot quite believe that he is actually there, or like she is afraid of what he might take offense at, or some combination of the two.

“It’s a pleasure to be here,” he says, all roguish and self-assured, which is such a contrast to his typically surly demeanor that you have to commend the girl for keeping her composure.

They speak at length about his soccer career, throwing around words you do not understand and do not care to. It’s so boring you almost power down the television and tell him you think as much, but then the girl clears her throat, her face turning a comical shade of red as her fists clench the paper she’s been reading off of.

“This last question is from our viewers, but it’s personal, so if you don’t want to answer, then it’s not a problem,” she says, squirming in her chair, probably hoping he does not humiliate her. It will be bad for her career if he does, even if by now everyone knows what kind of person he is.

“Go on, then. I feel like we’ve built a rapport here, so I don’t mind it as much if it’s from you,” he says. It’s a perfectly packaged sentiment. His PR team must have tortured him into this new persona. You try to imagine it — it’s definitely a humorous thought, picturing the Bastard München representative slamming Michael Kaiser’s face into a bowl of water for every snarky comment he makes. Unrealistic, though. They would never risk compromising his performance like that.

“There’s rumors that you’re seeing Y/N L/N, the actress. A source who claims to be close to you both mentioned it online, and people can’t stop talking about the possibility. Neither you nor Miss L/N have addressed it, though, and our viewers were hoping you might…?” She cringes back, already preparing for one of his tirades, but he only smiles genially and winks at the camera. You remind yourself to tell him later that he’s laying it on too thick, even if you are enjoying this new character that he’s playing up for the sake of it.

“Y/N L/N? I’m shocked that you think I’m handsome enough to date someone like her,” he says. Your phone buzzes — it’s your manager, crowing about how impressed he is with your ‘boyfriend’ and his presence of mind.

“So it’s a no?” the interviewer says, almost hopefully. He’s mysterious when he shrugs, mysterious and more than a little coy, as if she’s flattering him and he’s too shy to accept the praise.

“If Miss L/N ever deems me to be worthy of her, then it’s a yes in a heartbeat,” he says. It’s an excellent setup for his redemption, and the girl plays into it so beautifully that you tell your manager to send her flowers or some chocolate at the earliest possible opportunity.

“I think that you’ve shown yourself to be an excellent candidate today,” she says.

“Have I? I’ve really been trying to prove myself,” he says. Dreamy sighs ripple through the live studio audience. Someone whistles. It’s all very romantic and fairy-tale-esque, although he is far from being any kind of prince.

“You’re doing great,” the girl assures him. “I’m sure that, if Miss L/N is watching, she’ll have no choice but to be smitten.”

“If she’s watching? Oh, the thought didn’t even cross my mind,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck. You shouldn’t have doubted him and his audacity; he’s fallen into the role as if he were born to play it. “How embarrassing. I’ve just confessed to her on live television without even knowing if she’s interested…”

He’s actually blushing. You are doubly awed — he’s a natural-born talent. It’s a shame that he’s devoted to soccer; he could make it out like a bandit in the acting industry.

“No, no, don’t be embarrassed. How could she ever reject someone like you?” she assures him. How, indeed! At the moment, you are so pleased that you could kiss him. He’s better than any co-star you’ve ever had to work with, in that he is making your job exponentially easier instead of exponentially more difficult.

“If she really is watching, then I can only pray she heard you say that part,” he says, waving in greeting, presumably at you. “Hello, Miss L/N. I really admire you, so if you find me at all agreeable, then I would quite like it if you would say yes to the date I’m going to ask you on.”

He’s made the world swoon and your social media mentions triple. People are begging you to say yes, to give him a chance, to see how he has changed. They want to live through you, and you will let them.

When he calls you, you tell him you were thrilled by his performance. This causes him to shoot back that he finds you insufferable and condescending, to which you say that it’s what makes you and him such a perfect pair. Then you recite an address, and he asks you what you’re going on about. You answer that it is the place where you will have your first date, and then you hang up before he can respond, just so that you can deny him the chance to do it to you first.

Cameras flash in your faces as you enter the restaurant your manager has booked a reservation at. Michael Kaiser’s arm is wrapped around your waist, and it’s nauseatingly domestic, the kind of scene that would be the cover for one of those coming-of-age movies your agent loves booking for you. You wait for the frantic sound of camera shutters to slow, and then you tug on his sleeve.

“What is it?” he says. It’s quiet enough that no one else can hear, which is why it’s devoid of any warmth, but you are unruffled.

“Your tie,” you say. “It’s not crooked, but we will pretend that it is, and I’ll fix it so that there is something sweet to accompany the tabloid articles that will come out tomorrow.”

Your hands reach for his neck, and he does something you do not comprehend — flinching back, he shakes his head. When he realizes he’s done this, he grits his teeth, like the anger can make up for the temporary weakness. You do not press the issue, merely furrowing your brow and gazing up at him, doing your best to ensure that your eyes remain soft, so that the exchange is not misinterpreted by the parasites around you.

“No,” he says. “Do something else, but leave my tie alone.”

“Alright,” you say. It’s not sensible for you to argue, and anyways it doesn’t matter much what you are doing, as long as you are doing something. Humming to yourself, you adjust the lapels of his jacket. The cameras go off again. You pretend like you do not notice, like the world consists of only you two, and then you interlace your fingers with his, allowing him to drag you into the restaurant behind him.

It’s your turn to be interviewed. You’re wearing a dress, your legs crossed at the ankles — it’s demure and practical and prevents anyone from leering at you, so it’s been a habit of yours for quite a while. The interviewer is female, though, which calms you a bit. She’s older, around your mother’s age, and the wrinkles on her forehead remind you that you should call your parents and arrange for them to meet your doting boyfriend.

“Miss L/N, I can’t begin to tell you how excited I am to finally meet you!” the woman says. You think her name may be Anne, but she hasn’t introduced herself to you yet, so you’re not certain.

“You are too kind. If anything, it’s an honor for me to be here,” you say. The audience really likes that, when you are humble and shy and so darling. It’s palatable and easy for them to digest, or that’s what your manager tells you.

“Tell us about your upcoming projects,” she says after giving you the appropriate amount of praise for your charming personality.

“I’m currently shooting a new romantic comedy, but I’m afraid it’s all very hush-hush, so I can’t say too much about it. I think you all will really enjoy it, though, and I’m looking forward to the day that we can discuss it at length,” you say.

The conversation goes on like that for a bit, but you know she’s going through the motions because she has to, not because she wants to. There’s only one question she cares to ask, but if she just talks to you about your boyfriend and not your own accomplishments, then she’ll be blasted online as an anti-feminist. You hear quite frequently that this is akin to suicide in the world of marketing, so you can’t blame her.

That doesn’t stop you from having some fun. When she’s exhausted every possible avenue of questioning you about your future plans and past successes, you make as if you’re going to stand up and leave. Panic leaps across her face, and you snicker.

“We’ve spoken at such length about my acting career. You can’t possibly have any more questions about it, hm? You probably know more than my manager does!” Your attitude is balanced out by the joke. The audience laughs. It’s a fine line that you walk, but if you do not have the chance to act sharper every now and again, you believe you will die — internally if not externally — so you take such risks when you can justify them to yourself.

“You’re dating Michael Kaiser now, aren’t you?” she says. It’s a rancid curiosity she hides with a motherly type of concern. You brush off your legs, recross them, and tuck a piece of hair behind your ear.

“I am,” you say. You don’t have to play the games that he did; you both are established now. Official. A bona-fide couple. Anyways, it’s more appealing if you are outright with it.

“How has that been? You’ve really made a difference in that young man’s life, it seems,” she says.

The best way to lie is to tell the truth. “Yes, I suppose I have, but he has made an equal difference in mine. He is as good for me as I am for him; truly, I never understood what it meant when my parents called each other their ‘better halves’ until we met.”

In an hour, there will be thousands of posts online about this. If Y/N and Michael break up, then I don’t believe in love anymore! Maybe soulmates are real! Couple goals! These are the kinds of captions you are anticipating. The two of you will send screenshots to one another and laugh about how gullible the world is, and then you will strategically plan which comments to like and posts to favorite so that your message goes through. That’s the extent of your relationship with him, really, at least when the two of you are alone. The detachedness makes things much easier than they otherwise would be.

“There’s a popular theory going around that the two of you have had a secret wedding already. Is it true? Am I speaking to Mrs. Kaiser at the moment?” she says, eyes glittering like a vulture’s. She’s ready to pounce on any hesitation, any brief indecision that you might show, but you have spent more time in the spotlight than in your own parents’ home, so you don’t even waver.

“Marriage! I think we’re a bit too early in our relationship to be considering such things, and a bit too early in our lives to be rushing into major decisions like that,” you say. “If and when the time comes, you’ll be the first to know, but it won’t be for a while.”

It won’t be at all, actually. This relationship is not going to last for more than another month. Once the buzz surrounding you two dies, you and he will quietly split. It’ll be as if you never met in the first place.

Your phone rings as you’re leaving the studio. The caller ID says that it is Michael Kaiser, and the thought that he was watching your interview in the same way you watched his makes you feel odd.

“Hello?” you say.

“I’m not gonna marry you. Never-fucking-ever. If you’re expecting a ring, then put it out of your mind.”

“I wasn’t,” you say. “How else would you have liked me to answer that question?”

“Fuck if I know.”

Neither of you hang up on the other — you don’t think you can summon the wherewithal to, which is out of character for him but typical for you — though you both also don’t speak any further. He stays on the line while you drive home, breathing softly like he is sleeping, but you are sure that he is not. The point of it is lost on you, but then you drive into a tunnel and the call ends on its own, so it’s moot anyways.

Your parents are excited to meet Michael Kaiser. They’ve read up on him extensively, watched all his interviews and even his game highlights. Your mother calls you the night before just so she can gush to you about how handsome he is, how you’ve really done well for yourself this time around. Her approval is nice to have, though superfluous, like a luxury soap or perfume.

Your father is the one who suggests you all go golfing. You don’t know how to play, and neither does your mother, but you recognize it’s his attempt at connecting with who he thinks is your boyfriend, so you accept. You’re not sure if Michael Kaiser knows how to play golf, or really anything besides soccer, but he is game enough to come that you suppose he must.

It’s warm out, the sun beating down on your father’s brow as he lines up the ball with his club. Michael Kaiser stands on his left, and you think he’s somehow beautiful in this lighting. Not beautiful how your many attractive coworkers are, but in a manner which is distinctly him and therefore utterly irreproducible. His body is lean and graceful, his hair shaggy and gold, though he’s dyed the tips blue in what you’re sure is a statement. The shade matches his eyes, and also the inked roses on his neck. You have long ago come to the conclusion that the flowers are also a part of that same statement, but you have yet to discover what that statement might be.

“He’s an improvement from that last boyfriend of yours,” your mother says, leaning back so that she can pour the last few drops of soda from her empty can into her throat. You and her are sitting together in the golf cart, seeking refuge in the shade of its plastic roof, sharing the drinks that your father had bought for himself and forgotten about the instant he stepped onto the golf course.

“He is,” you say. That’s not an exaggeration, nor is it something incredible. Your last boyfriend was an old classmate of yours who loved your celebrity more than he loved you. Michael Kaiser doesn’t love you, either, but he is honest about it, and you do not love him back, so there is no resentment between you and him.

“I like the way he looks at you,” your mother says. There’s a hiss as she opens a new can of soda. It’s a vice, but whenever you remind her of it, she dismisses you. She wants to have fun while she’s on this earth, apparently. Maybe drinking five cans of soda in one sitting means her life will be shorter, but life without soda isn’t worth living anyways, or something like that. The reasoning is stupid, but you know she is loyal to it, so you have to accept it. “It’s refreshing. So gentle. You’ll be talking to someone else, and he’ll just be staring at you like he can’t quite believe you’re his.”

“I hadn’t noticed,” you say.

Your mother is about to say something else, but she is interrupted by a loud whoop. Michael Kaiser has hit a hole-in-one, and before you can tell him to stop embarrassing himself, your father is cheering, throwing his arms around him and calling him son.

“Your father likes him, too,” your mother said.

“Oh, he needs to stop that! I can’t believe he’s making things so awkward,” you say, getting up to reprimand him before realizing that there is an entirely foreign sheen to Michael Kaiser’s eyes as he rests his chin on your father’s shoulder. He is not quite smiling, but it is a close approximation of the expression, and when your father ruffles his hair and says that it may have been beginner’s luck but he’s proud regardless, the curve of his lips becomes deeper.

You don’t understand, but you don’t need to. You may have facilitated it, but the moment belongs to him, and your presence is as unwanted as it is unnecessary.

You sit back down and take a sip of your mother’s soda. She grins knowingly and says that you look like you are in love, too. You don’t have the heart to tell her the truth, so you hum noncommittally and say that you might be.

You are growing fond of Michael Kaiser. It isn’t a slow realization — actually, it hits you very suddenly one day. He hands you a bouquet of flowers before opening the passenger door of his car for you. You ask him why he’s brought you peonies instead of roses, and he says it’s because he despises roses. It’s such an absurd answer and he says it with such a straight face that you have to cough in order to disguise your choked laughter.

“Those must be some other kind of flower, then,” you say, pointing at but not touching his tattoos, at the delicate petals which fold over his pulse, azure and bright and silky.

“No, those are roses,” he says, his knuckles growing white on the steering wheel. Normally, you wouldn’t ask further, but today you want to prod at his bruise of an existence, so you turn the music down and hug the peonies to your chest.

“But you despise roses,” you say.

“It’s a good reminder,” he says. “No flower lies quite as well as a rose does.”

That is when you are certain that you are partial to him. It is an unavoidable fact and also a treacherous one, but true notwithstanding.

You put the peonies in a vase of water when you get home that night and hope they never die, although you know that they will be gone within the week. It’s how time works. The peonies will die and you two will break up and you’ll have nothing but a bare kitchen counter and thoughts of his intricacies to remember him by.

There are no paparazzi around on the night when he wraps your hands around his throat. You are alone with him, sequestered away in the living room of his mansion, a bowl of popcorn shoved between the two of you while a movie plays in the background. This seclusion defeats the original purpose of the relationship entirely, but you sense that that original purpose is no longer fully applicable, so you do not refuse when he calls you and demands you come.

There’s a blanket tossed over your legs, the brilliant colors of his soccer club’s emblem faded from repeated washes. It’s warm, and if you were not busily eating most of the popcorn, you’d pull it up around your shoulders. As for Michael Kaiser, he’s facing the screen, his hair tied back in a knot, a pair of glasses resting on the bridge of his nose and reflecting the visage of the lead actress as she laughs. You observe him as you snack. You’ve seen this movie before and didn’t really like it, so you’re not missing much. He’s more interesting by far.

“I know that woman,” you say, so that he has to acknowledge you.

“Hm,” he says.

“She’s a jerk,” you say.

“Sounds like your kind of company,” he says. You scoff, because he’s not wrong. He keeps watching the movie, and you keep watching him, until a thought occurs to you.

“Can I call you Michael? Even when it’s just us two,” you ask. He purses his lips. The actress screams. Her character has just died, but the scene is poorly shot and even more poorly acted, so it’s not as heart-wrenching as it should be. You would’ve done better, but your agent doesn’t want you taking any gory roles, and your manager agrees. In his professional opinion, it’ll ruin the doll-like persona you’ve spent so long cultivating. He’s probably right. It’s hard to adore a doll once you’ve watched it die so gruesomely.

“You can do whatever you want,” he says.

“Okay,” you say, swallowing another mouthful of popcorn, the salt lingering on your tongue long after the popcorn itself is gone. “Michael.”

“Yes?” he says.

“Nothing,” you say. “I just wanted to say your name.”

“Okay,” he says. “Y/N?”

He’s never called you that in private. Of course, when you’re out and about, he must refer to you with such familiarity, but in private you’ve never been anything but Miss L/N. It’s a change but a good one. You don’t want to ever be Miss L/N again. Not to him.

“Yes?” you say.

“I’m trying to watch this movie,” he says. “It has high ratings, so be quiet and allow me to finish.”

“It’s shitty,” you say, yawning and leaning back against the mountain of pillows you’ve created for yourself. “Overly gratuitous with its use of fake blood.”

“Right, because that’s a cardinal sin,” he says dryly.

“Sorry, but it’s hard to enjoy films when you know how they’re made,” you say. He picks up the remote and pauses the movie. You blink, because that’s about the last thing you expected from him. Then he turns the TV off entirely and you realize you’ll probably never be able to predict what he does next, so you should stop trying already.

“I know how movies are made,” he says.

“Did you have a secret acting career you never told me about?” you say. It’s a joke, but you also wouldn’t be surprised if it’s true. He’s taken to performing like a fish takes to water, and every day you tell him he should quit soccer and devote his life to cinema because of this uncanny skill.

“Not me, but my mother was an actress, and my father was a director,” he says.

“Was?” you say.

“Maybe they still are,” he says. “I don’t know. We’re not on speaking terms.”

“Why not?” you say. He takes your hands in between his, and you can make out immediately that his instinct is to hurt you, to press his fingertips into your wrists so hard that they leave marks. It’s to his credit that he fights back the urge, fights it back and arranges your palms against his carotid arteries. His jaw clenches and his pupils dilate as he waits for you to realize; when you do, you rip your hands away for fear of wounding him further.

“Don’t pity me,” he instructs you, unpausing the movie like nothing happened. “And don’t ever bring it up again.”

Now that you have his permission to refer to him only by his name, you develop a strange fascination with saying it. He’s amused by your new fixation, answering you in a lilting tone every time you call for him.

According to him, you are like a small nightingale, always warbling, always happy, fluttering around beside him and changing his mood for the better. Well, if you are like a nightingale, then he is like a dog, and you tell him as much when you are sitting across from him at a coffee shop.

“A dog?” he repeats, his face pinching. He’s just taken a swig of the black coffee he always orders, but you know his disgusted expression isn’t a symptom of the beverage’s bitterness. “Take that back.”

“Not in a bad way,” you say. Your own drink is sweet, so you sip on it slowly to prevent a stomach ache. “I’m not calling you pathetic. I just mean that you are amiable and lively. It’s a compliment.”

“It’s not who I really am,” he says. “Have I deceived even you? Amiable? Lively? Remember why this entire scam began in the first place — because I am neither of those things.”

“Right,” you say. “A peacock, then. Terribly vain and entirely alluring.”

He relaxes and raises his cup to his mouth again. He’ll be up late tonight, he always is when he has coffee, but it never stops him from drinking it. “That’s better.”

The reminder that whatever you have with him is not real stings more than it should. You throw away your drink almost untouched, which does cause him to raise an eyebrow, but thankfully he refrains from commenting. It’s a relief, because you don’t even know how to explain it to yourself, let alone him.

He walks you to your front porch and waits with crossed arms as you fish for the key in your purse, shoving it in the lock once you have it in your grasp. His farewell when you open the door is stilted and abnormal, so you stop him with a hand on his arm before he can go.

“Michael,” you say. You’ve never said his name like this before. It comes from a place raw and deep within you, a place that you are certain is purple and black like a wound. You say it like you love him, and you think it must be because you do.

“Yes?” he says. It’s the way he always responds to you, his voice like a song, a small smile on his ordinarily strict face — though today, he is not smiling. Instead, he is frowning, like he has come to an understanding that he would have rather not reached.

“Never mind,” you say. “Goodbye.”

“Goodbye,” he says. He drives away, his car disappearing around the corner, leaving you standing alone in the still-open doorway and wondering how you will survive the day when he disappears permanently.

You’re not sure what it is about him that makes pretending difficult, but suddenly, it’s a struggle for you to maintain your aloof front. You find it disconcerting, that he has taken this aspect of your identity and rendered it entirely null and void; it’s even more disconcerting that he has done it unwittingly and unsympathetically. If you loved him any less, you would hate him, because he has stolen who you are and left you blind and fumbling, but you fell for him, and the way you landed broke something fundamental, so that it is impossible for you to get back up.

“I think that I love you,” you say. You are on his couch again, and there is a movie playing again, which is all too similar to a past scenario that you think about when you are lonely. Tonight, it’s some soccer documentary that you find so tedious you are driven to irrationality.

He drops the glass of water in his hands; you reach out and catch it before it can spill, setting it on the table in front of you.

“What?” he says. You shrug.

“I love you,” you say again, and you’re flippant about it because you’re not telling him in the hopes he loves you, too. In fact, you know that he does not, so you are using him as a confessional; after all, the minimum he owes you is sharing the burden of this sin.

“There’s no one around,” he says. “You don’t have to lie. It won’t gain us anything.”

“It hasn’t gained us anything in a long while,” you say. It’s true — your relationship isn’t trending anymore, and most of your dates are in locations where you will not be recognized.

He stands up. The documentary continues as he paces, and a referee blows a whistle while he tangles his fingers in his hair and pulls. You stay on the couch, your eyes following his erratic movements, your hands folded in your lap.

“No, you don’t,” he says.

“I don’t what?” you say.

“You don’t love me,” he says. He wants to sound callous, you are sure of it, but the effect is lost on you. He sounds more lost than anything.

“But I do,” you respond. “Who are you to tell me I don’t?”

“Don’t,” he says. “Stop it. This instant.”

You laugh incredulously. “Do you think it’s that easy? I wouldn’t feel like this in the first place if it was.”

“Why?” he says. He’s still pacing. It’s like watching a tiger in a zoo. You want to study him, but he demands your attention in a different way. “Y/N. Why me? Why at all?”

“The reasons don’t matter, do they? I can tell you, but they won’t change anything,” you say, shrugging. “If you find yourself in the kitchen, bring water back for me. I’m thirsty.”

“Drink mine,” he says, pointing at the cup you had narrowly saved from disaster. “And quit your avoidance. Tell it to me plainly. Why?”

“Because you are you,” you say once you have drained half of his glass and your tongue is not quite as papery. “It’s a series of things; there’s not just one concrete reason. You hate roses and only drink black coffee. My mother thinks you’re handsome and my father is convinced you’re a golfing genius. You are a dog but also a peacock and then again an emperor. Don’t ask ridiculous questions and expect me to answer them when I cannot.”

“I’ll hurt you,” he says. “I’ll hurt you, Y/N, and I don’t — I don’t want to. You’re the only one who I don’t want to hurt, so just give up. It’s for the better if you do.”

“You won’t,” you say. “I don’t think you can.”

“Of course I can,” he says. “It’s the one thing I’m capable of. The only way I know how to love someone is by hurting them. I’ll do the same to you if you let me, and if you’re telling the truth, then you will let me.”

“Because I love you?” you say. “You think I’ll let you hurt me because I love you? For shame, Michael. I thought you knew me better than that.”

“Please,” he says. It’s a word he’s never said, not to you and not in his life. Its weight hangs before you, pulsating in the air like it’s tangible. “If I love you, I’ll destroy you. And then you’ll leave, and it’ll destroy me.”

It’s a selfless desire that he’s disguising as a selfish one. You’re good at pretending, but you’re not good at telling when others are. That much is obvious, because if you had any talent at the latter then you would’ve seen that he’s loved you for as long as you have loved him, maybe longer. He loves you and so he’s urging you to flee, to destroy him before he can do it to you first.

“Damned if I do and damned if I don’t, huh?” you say, exhaling and finishing off the rest of his water. “Listen to me.”

“No,” he says. His obstinance is endearing, but you throw a pillow at him instead of cooing like you want to. He catches it and tosses it back. It lands beside you with a thump. You pat it for emphasis.

“Yes,” you say. “I love you.”

He plugs his ears with his fingers. “Nope.”

“I love you, I love you — hey, I know you can hear me!” you say.

“La la la,” he shouts over your voice, sticking his tongue out petulantly. “I can’t hear you, I can’t hear you!”

“You’re cruel,” you say. “I won’t deny it. I know who you really are, Michael Kaiser. You possess cruelty in spades, but it’s in the way that a rose does. You have grown malice like thorns so that no one may come near your heart, and you think these thorns will tear me apart when I extend my hand past them. What you aren’t accounting for is that I have done so already. I have reached your heart and still I am intact. Now, what is there to cause me harm — a mere flower? But a flower can’t cause anyone harm, least of all a person such as myself. You can’t, or more importantly you won’t. I believe that you won’t.”

He stares at you. The soccer team in the documentary still playing behind him scores, and the crowd roars in approval. You stare back at him and wait.

“I hate roses,” he finally says. “I hate them a lot. They’re the worst kind of flower.”

“I don’t know about that,” you say. “I quite fancy them.”

“They prick your fingers,” he says.

“Not if you are gentle,” you say. “Not if you understand them.”

He buries his face in his hands. “Go home, Y/N.”

You do as you are told, flagging a taxi and shivering while you wait for it. You wish for things to be different, but the amount of unfulfilled wishes you’ve made outnumber the stars in the sky, so you add this one to the list and vow to move on.

You have no desire to leave your bed the next morning, but you are also hungry, and your hunger wins out over your despair. You muster up the energy to roll out of your sheets and trudge downstairs, but you are miserable as you do so. You are utterly miserable, and the fact that you are only worsens the feeling, trapping you in an endless kind of loop.

When you enter your kitchen, you are surprised to see a pot of flowers sitting innocently on your counter. You didn’t put them there, so you should feel afraid, but they’re roses, and they’re the same arresting shade as the sky, so you don’t. You only grin, slowly and then all at once as you begin to giggle helplessly.

There isn’t a card or an explanation provided, but you don’t need either. You already know who they are from.

#kaiser x reader #kaiser x y/n #kaiser x you #michael kaiser #bllk x reader #bllk #blue lock #reader insert #fake dating #m1ckeyb3rry milestone #m1ckeyb3rry writes

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raccoon-eyed-rebel · 2 years ago

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In all fairness...

A/N: Yeah, this isn't beta'd. Or even glanced over a second time. English isn't my native language so don't draw and quarter me over a couple of mistakes, I beg thee, oh Lordship.

Someone had the audacity to put this completely relatable little sentence on this hellsite. And then I wrote this. I couldn't help myself and I'm not apologizing. xoxo ❤️

Pairing: Walter Marshall x reader (you)

Summary: It's date night, and you found the perfect outfit... In hindsight it may have been a little too perfect.

Word count: 1.8k

Warnings: NSFW, SMUT, 18+, MINORS DNI, very impatient Marshall who has a thing for fishnets, light bondage, light daddy kink, unsafe sex (be smarter, folks!), use of pet names, creampie, manhandling, oral (m receiving), facial, ehh... hmu when I missed something.

-----

You look at yourself in the mirror one more time, a little unsure of your outfit. The skirt is going to be a hit – you’ve worn it before, he loved it. The same goes for the blouse and the underwear you have on. But the tights… Somehow, every last pair you own is either in the laundry or has sustained serious damage in obvious places. This’ll have to do. One last touch-up on your red lipstick and you’re good to go.

“Hey, ready for din…” Your unsmiling, 6 feet tall, 200 something pounds of muscle boyfriend sure looks cute when his mouth falls open like that.

“More than ready,” you reply coyly – as if you care about dinner. Then again, it has been a while since you’ve been out on an actual date, because his work interfered with that the past three or so times. You know he feels guilty; he always does. Sometimes he wonders if he should let work slide more often, so he could stay with you, but you always assure him it’s okay, and you always mean it. His job is important. This time, to apologise to you, he’s made reservations at your favourite restaurant. There is one problem, and that is that your man seems in no way inclined to walk you to the car.

“Babe, we’ll be late.” You try to push him away from the door but – of course – he won’t budge. He’s twice your size, what the hell did you expect?

“We’ll order something.” And with those words, he steps into your apartment and slams the door shut behind him. His hands are heavy on your hips, pushing you back into the wall opposite your front door, face inching closer to yours with every passing second. At the last moment, you turn your face away from his, earning you a low growl that seems to vibrate through your entire body. Within a split second your world is turned upside down – quite literally, because he throws you over his shoulder and carries you to the bedroom as if you weigh nothing, landing his hands firmly on your arse a few times. You shriek at the impact.

“Are you going to behave tonight?” He asks as he throws you onto the bed. You love seeing him like this, arms crossed, standing over you all tall and broad and threatening. Without thinking, you let your legs fall open until a large hand appears on each knee to push them back together. “I guess not, then.”

You lick your lips as he fumbles with the buckle of his belt before he pulls it from the loops and – to your surprise – uses it to strap your thighs together.

“Knees.” It very much isn’t a question. You would have been more than happy to oblige, but his hand was already wrapped around your upper arm, hauling you off the bed and dragging you onto your knees on the floor. It’s almost reflexive, the way you reach your hands up to unbutton his jeans. Even the thick fabric can’t hide the size of the equipment beneath it. He’s so big you can’t wrap your fingers around him, and two hands aren’t enough to cover his full length. Apparently, you’re not fast enough for Marshall’s liking tonight because before you free his cock from his pants, he’s already impatiently tapping the tip against your lips. Your tongue darts out to taste the precum he’s spreading on your lips, teasing the head of his cock in the process. When your look up at him, he’s looking back at you, with one eyebrow raised, telling you very clearly that he won’t appreciate an attitude tonight. As much as you’d love to see him make good on all those non-verbal threats in his eyes, your lips part and you take head into your mouth. Somehow, every remnant of your signature bratty attitude disappears when you’re sucking dick, and from the way Marshall looks at you, you can tell that he knows.

“Good girl,” he growls when you take him deeper and deeper. Your fingers desperately try to wriggle their way between your thighs to relieve some of the growing ache there, but because your legs are strapped together, you can’t reach. A pitiful whine escapes your throat and Marshall chuckles at the sound.

“Serves you right,” he says with a devious laugh, “fucking cock tease.” You’re barely an inch away from having all of him stuffed down your throat. It takes a few more slow, steady strokes until your nose is pressed against him. It always feels like a victory, especially when he’s standing over you, moaning like he’s losing his mind and visibly trying everything within his power to stand still. This time, it’s him who pulls away to return to more shallow strokes to pull him over the finish line.

“Open.” Again, not a request. You can tell he relishes the sight of you on your knees in front of him, mouth open and tongue out, waiting… Most of his cum ends up on your tongue, and you swallow all of it while keeping your eyes locked on his. He’s biting his lip, letting you know just how much he’s loving this. When he pulls you off the ground again – only far enough to turn you around and bend you over the edge of the bed – you can no longer ignore the mess between your legs. Since you found out that you couldn’t reach down to help yourself, you’ve been doing everything you can to tune out that aching feeling, but the accidental friction from Marshall’s manhandling allows the sensation to wriggle its way back to the front of your mind. A few quick slaps against your arse surely don’t make things better. For a moment, you’re hopeful that he’ll be kind to you, that giving him his means he’ll give you yours, but you know him better than that. Something you did tonight annoyed him – or rather; turned him on so much that he decided he couldn’t wait to have you until after dinner – and he’s going to use you until he feels you’ve made up for that mistake. You wouldn’t be with him if you liked it any other way. The sudden feeling of the chilly air in the room on your behind drag you back to reality. Marshall has shoved your skirt out of the way and his hands are kneading the flesh of your ass. Tenaciously, you might add. You could easily get lost in the feeling – which is a good thing, because to say Walter Marshall loves your ass would be the understatement of the century, which means he spends a disproportionate amount of the time you spend together touching it in some way or another. Today, however, his quality time with your butt doesn’t last long. First, the snapping of thread as strong hands turn the many tiny holes in your fishnets into a single, much larger hole. Then the rough tips of his fingers between your legs, pulling your panties to the side. And lastly a whistle, followed by a chuckle when one of those fingers slips between your folds and almost immediately deep into your dripping core. A second finger slips in just as easily and for a delicious minute they work that heavenly spot inside of you, naturally retreating far too soon, just as you’re squirming with pleasure and begging him to go on.

“Not yet, love.” His words are kind now, knowing you’ll beg for his cock the same way you just begged for his fingers. He teases you with the tip of his cock, laughing when you try to back into him. A few fierce smacks on your ass make short work of that behaviour. Without a fuss or seemingly any real effort at all, he gathers your hands behind your back and keeps them there. He only needs one hand to firmly secure both of your wrists. It’s a bit of an adjustment; normally he’d use his belt, but that’s otherwise occupied at the moment. It takes him a single thrust to drive his entire cock into you and you gasp at the sudden intrusion. At the same time, he groans loudly; because your legs are fixed together, you feel much tighter around him than you normally do, and the feeling is driving him wild. You squirm, whine, and clench your walls around him in an attempt to get him to move.

“Use your words, darling,” he chuckles almost sadistically as he stays still inside of you.

“Fuck me,” you mewl, your voice trembling almost as much as your legs.

“Beg.”

“Please, daddy, fuck me.” The words are out before you realize, and there’s no way of taking them back. Luckily, Marshall doesn’t seem to mind at all.

“Shit, baby, I had no idea you were going to ask that nicely.” The pace he sets is brutal; the kind of rhythm you’ve never been able to take on your best days, but the position you’re in prevents him from hitting you as deep as he normally does. For the first time, you realise how much this man always holds back so he won’t hurt you – and you suspect he probably still isn’t fucking into you at full speed or strength. The thought that Walter could literally rip you apart with his dick makes you go absolutely feral, and you beg him to fuck you harder. You have nowhere to go tomorrow, and walking is overrated, anyway. He seems more than happy to oblige; his thrusts go from ‘hard’ to tiptoeing the line between where ‘rough’ ends and ‘cruel’ begins. Just as you’re beginning to regret your request, he can’t take it anymore. With a feral grunt and vicious final thrust, he spills his seed deep inside of you before pulling out.

He takes a moment to watch his cum drip from your battered cunt before he loosens the belt a little, giving you just enough space to spread your knees as far as necessary for you to reach between them and touch the swollen little pearl between your legs. All he does is slip two fingers into your gaping pussy, curl them so they brush past your g-spot and watch as you fuck yourself stupid on his fingers.

“You made a mess, baby,” he whispers in your ear when he pulls you into his chest after you’re done riding out your high. He can’t help but laugh. Walter loves seeing you like this; all fucked out and messy, mascara running, lipstick smudged – there’s probably more of the stuff on his cock right now than on your face…

“That’s your fault,” you sigh.

“In all fairness,” he chuckles as he kisses your neck, “you’re the one who showed up wearing these.” He playfully plucks at the threads of your fishnets. Oh…

#walter marshall smut #walter marshall fanfiction #walter marshall x reader #night hunter #henry cavill smut #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill characters

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mins-fins · 9 months ago

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june 20th.

&&. on june 20th, the world ended. the sky turned orange and the ground beneath your feet cracked.

pairing: lee donghyuck x m!reader

genre: fluff?? angst??

warnings: mentions of death

word count: 1k

notes: this is one of the strangest things i think ive written in a long time 😭 i have no idea how this idea came to be in the first place i kinda just wrote out what came to my mind?? i also spent so long trying to figure out which nct member to write this for and i literally just picked hc because he's my sisters favorite member (#THANKSTI) so yeah idk why this exists but it does 🤷‍♂️

on june 20th, your alarm rang two minutes early.

on june 20th, you gave your mother a kiss on the cheek before leaving for school.

on june 20th, you missed the bus and were forced to walk the whole way to school.

on june 20th, you had walked into class late for the first time since september.

on june 20th, the sky was full of dark clouds, you assumed it was going to rain later that day.

on june 20th, you skipped one of your classes for the first time ever, biology, one you always hated.

on june 20th, you noticed seven different cracks in the sidewalk.

on june 20th, the air seemed different..

on june 20th, all that you could think about was your upcoming birthday, excitement surging through your veins.

you did what you always did. kicked small rocks, hopped over fences, hummed the lyrics to your favorite song, danced to the lyrics of your favorite song in public with no shame, skipped over the cracks on the sidewalk, did cartwheels, you were having fun.

for some reason, the day of june 20th made you feel free.

nobody could stop you, not your friends, not asshole teachers, not screaming neighbors, nobody could stop you.

well, maybe the world ending could stop you.

with a smile on your face and an energetic pep in your step, you make your way through the now noisy neighborhood.

people are screaming, the sky is an unnatural color, the air feels as if it's slowly poisoning your lungs, the cracks beneath your feet have now doubled in number.

but for some reason, you feel easy?

the prospect of the world ending is a funny one, one you never thought you'd be living ever. in movies, it's branded as such a horrible thing, but you don't think you've ever felt happier.

the music blaring through your headphones distracts you, the people panicking around you seem more like blurs then actual people. they all have lives, some of them have children, some of them have grandchildren, some of them have family out of the country, some of them are going to be celebrating their last birthdays today, who knows what was going on in their lives earlier today that will now mean nothing in a good two hours.

your complex emotions surprise you, but the smile on your face doesn't falter, and you like that it doesn't.

because if you could spend the last moments of your life being happy, why would you be mad about that?

"everything alright? your not hurt are you?" you wrap your arms around your mother, resting your head on hers.

"i'm alright" you whisper, arms clinging around her.

your hair is disheveled, probably due to the absolute maddening things you'd been doing on the sidewalk.

"oh honey! donghyuck called, he was asking for you".

the name gets an eyebrow raise out of you.

donghyuck?

donghyuck as in lee donghyuck? he called? why would he call? why would he be asking for you? why would he—

oh, oh my goodness.

"what did he ask for?" you immediately separate from the hug, and your mother gives you a puzzled look. "did he ask for something from me specifically?"

"he just asked for you because he said he wanted to tell you something but you weren't here—"

holy shit.

"oh i have to go.."

your mother blinks once again, but then she realizes what your talking about, and she sighs. "honey, you still haven't told him?"

you don't even try to battle the allegations, just press a kiss to her cheek and make your way towards the door. "today's the day mom! the world is ending!"

your optimism shocks you, and you race out of the door, nothing else on your mind but him.

on june 20th, your life seemed to take a strange turn.

on june 20th, your mundane routine suddenly became extraordinary.

on june 20th, you realized it was your last chance to tell donghyuck how you feel.

the world is ending, the sky has turned orange, the sidewalk has began cracking beneath your feet, people are screaming, crying, clutching onto their family members, it's your last day, it's everyones last day, tomorrow, you'll all be nothing but empty corpses.

all of you have dreams, all of you had desires, things you'll never be able to pursue now because your demise is coming much sooner than you expected.

there's only one thing at your mind at the moment, and that's the most annoying person ever.

today is a day like no other, a day which will all be in memory by the time the week passes, your feet push you through the pain you feel, because you've never been able to get such words out.

where is he.. where is he.. where is he..

when you spot lee donghyuck, you shout, and he doesn't even have to look at you to know what it is.

you tackle him to ground, his back colliding with the soft grass in his front yard as you fall right on top of him. a smile comes to your face as you look down at him, with his pretty eyes and pretty smile.

"you're so stupid!" you yell, he just chuckles, letting you remain on top of him, because the world is ending, and this is it. "you called!?"

"you're literally stupider!" he rebuts. "you came!"

you scoff, oh this could've all been yours before if you weren't such a coward, but there is always a time for everything, even if this is the last time.

"i am so in love with you" you whisper, leaning down to press a kiss onto his lips. "you're such an idiot, a pretty idiot".

donghyuck just smiles, wrapping his arms around your neck. "you love me".

"of course i do".

"the world is ending, baby".

but for some reason you aren't crying.

you aren't sad, you aren't crying or anything, you're just living in the moment.

"i know, but i love you".

on june 20th, the world ended.

on june 20th, the sky turned orange and the ground beneath your feet cracked.

on june 20th, you told lee donghyuck you loved him.

on june 20th, you spent your final moments with the boy you loved the most.

#lee donghyuck #haechan #nct #nct 127 #nct dream #nct imagines #nct drabbles #nct scenarios #haechan imagines #haechan drabbles #haechan scenarios #lee donghyuck x reader #lee donghyuck x male reader #haechan x reader #haechan x male reader #𑁍 ࣪˖ 𓂃 isa's works!

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pttucker · 11 months ago

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Aaaand we're done! \o/

Well... "done" in one sense of the word since I just did a very quick search and apparently there's like another 140 chapters of side stories and counting. Possibly post-epilogue stuff??? Didn't look too closely since I don't want too many spoilers if I can avoid it. I already saw one vague spoiler relating to 49% Dokja's side story. 😢😢😢

Though at least now with the main novel+epilogues finished all of the mysteries have been wrapped up (as far as I can remember).

I guess I'm still curious about the Library, but even if that's never touched upon in any side story chapters, I think I kinda get it with my theories and how he broke up into many, many different Dokjas and/or was two different Oldest Dreams?

Oh, and the stuff with Dokja & 1863's Sooyoung's blurry faces, I would have liked to have seen that resolved. There were mentions of Dokja slowly getting less blurry that were kinda glossed over but nothing concrete ever popped up for why his face was blurry or if/when it fully stopped being blurry? Unless I just missed some subtle thing?? Like I guess the epilogue did mention that Sooyoung had fun writing in stuff about him being the Ugly King but I don't think she made him ugly, that was just her memories of him?? Either way, poor Dokja. 😭

idk maybe I'm the only one obsessed with things like that. (I literally eventually started a separate section in my ORV Scrivener notes just for all the times Dokja's looks are mentioned in any way.) So maybe it just wasn't deemed important to "resolve"? Or, again, it was but I totally missed it.

Or maybe there's still something about the Library and his looks (and other mysteries I may not be currently remembering) in the additional 140+ chapters out there?

Unfortunately, English translations of Chapters 552+ don't all seem to be in one place, or at least I wasn't able to quickly find them in my first search. I'll keep looking, though. Might just have to cobble together the chapters one by one from various sources. If anyone happens to know where I could possibly find them...

Though I'm honestly not certain if I want to immediately jump into them or if I want to give it a moment to breathe. I actually am a little bit disappointed that I jumped right into the 40+ chapter epilogues right after finishing the main story since I feel like it stole some of the impact from him finding his two separate ■■.

Even if I was really happy to see how they continued living on in the system-less world and how Dokja felt after losing all of his companions to be Oldest Dream. Seriously you never get to see those sort of things after the "happy" ending.

And I did love seeing how it all tied back together with Sooyoung being the author and ORV itself being Dokja's story (which Sooyoung also wrote!) which in turn is our story and getting to see Secretive Plotter and the 999ths again and poor Joonghyuk just not knowing what to do with himself after losing his purpose as a protagonist and him and Sooyoung wanting to save their precious Dokja more than anything and both of them coming to understand Dokja better and so on and so forth.

But if nothing else, I do really want to finally read some fanfiction and otherwise engage with fandom now that the big mysteries are solved. And if I can make one final prediction it's going to be that the top fanfic is some kind of modern, no powers gamer AU or something. Because that's just how these fandoms seem to go. 😂

Anyway, I think it should be obvious from my many, many ORV posts but I really enjoyed the novel! I am very happy that so many things were so well foreshadowed, so much was so carefully planned, so many loose ends were tied up in a very satisfying manner, etc. It's very impressive for such a long, looooong story. I mean, just the fact that you could get inklings that something was up with Secretive Plotter before we even hit Chapter 100 yet not have the reveal come until much later is impressive just on its own.

I guess if I had one complaint it'd be that I didn't quite vibe with the whole "multiple walls to open the Final Wall" thing. Like, I totally was into the idea of Dokja's Fourth Wall being the largest fragment, and I actually thought that Jang Hayoung's wall was pretty clever since it's all about commenting/texting others when Jan Hayoung was created due to Dokja's comments.

But I'm not quite so into the Wall of Samsara and Wall That Divides Good and Evil. Like, I do get how they relate to the story, what with Dokja literally reincarnating into multiple worlds himself and the fact that a lot of Dokja's main theme was that he didn't nicely fit into a box of good or evil. I mean, his literal Modifiers are Demon King of Salvation and Watcher of Light and Darkness. Not to mention, Dokja went through a ton of the novel saying that just because they were evil in one turn doesn't mean they're evil in the next and vice versa, as well as the fact that the had companions on both sides of the spectrum.

So I'm not saying that they just came out of nowhere, but personally I find something to be a little off with them when compared to the other two walls? idk these are just my initial thoughts and I might feel completely different once I re-read the novel and can better appreciate things.

Which, speaking of, I'm debating with myself if I want to do the truly ridiculous thing and start this entire novel over right from the beginning in true Dokja fashion or if I want to be good and maybe give some other universe some love. I was looking at The World After The Fall but...uh...

Not to say that things with tiny fandoms aren't also good!!!

But it does make me kinda side-eye it a little and wonder if I shouldn't just read Solo Leveling...

...or read whatever side stories I can find, aaaaaalllllll the fanfic, and then read ORV all over again. 😂

We'll see.

FYI when I do start reacting to the side stories I think I'll use the tag "orv side story" if anyone wants to block it preemptively to avoid spoilers.

#thanks for everyone that came along with me on my journey!#I'll have to find my own ORV liveblogger to follow now 😊#orv #orv spoilers #orv novel chapter 551 #orv epilogue spoilers #omniscient reader's viewpoint #orv liveblog

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bourbon-ontherocks · 8 months ago

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20 questions for writers

I was tagged by @pia-writes-things (ty!!! ❤️)

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

46!

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

703,271. Which is, um, a lot.

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Good Girls (formerly), HPI (formerly), and l'Art du Crime. There's also a random bit for les Combattantes, and one GG fic has a shared universe with Graceland. I'm very mono-fandom lol.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Take A Dip

It's All Coming Back To Me

It Hurts When I See You Struggle

Love And War

We're Living In A Powder Keg And Giving Off Sparks

Unsurprisingly, these are all GG fics, although I don't think my kudos ranking is accurate because most of these were impacted by the great kudos-bombing gate from 2020 so it's hard to tell what's actually my most kudo-ed fic.

5. Do you respond to comments?

Absolutely. My secret goal is to keep the conversation going back and forth for the longest possible time because I love the opportunity for a good ramble about my writing 😈

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

I wanna say Ad vitam æternam (L'art du crime)? I mean, it's literally an MCD fic, so, not that merry... Also if I remember correctly, Always lost in the sea (HPI) doesn't end on a very hopeful note either.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

I don't know? All of them? None? I generally tend to go for happy open endings with that extra bit of bittersweet so I really couldn't tell. But hey, maybe the ending to that thing I'm currently writing actually is the happiest of it all, because oh boy, things do get cheesy at some point 🥺

8. Do you get hate on fics?

No at all! Unless you count that one person who commented on several chapters of whichever long GG fic I wrote just to point blank hate on Beth character lol

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Of course I do (in English only), I like my porn toxic and desperate and angsty with just the right amount of power play and mutual hatred. Basically, I write hatefuck 😂

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

Not really, no... I've tried a couple of times, but I think I'm better at/more interested in mimicking existing interactions than inventing a dynamic between characters who never met canonically (and also, boy the kind of SETUP you need to justify some characters crossing paths... it's just too much work). I'm more of a cameo/easter egg kind of writer, so once in a while I'll allow a character from another fandom to pop up in a fic and say hi, but it's really a blink-and-you'll-miss-it kind of encounter.

I guess my craziest attempt would be that Crazy Ex-Girlfriend / Good Girls crossover that I never finished though, cause like, super different moods?

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I'm aware of but I don't really attempt to know

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yes! By myself lol. I once posted a fic in two languages before acknowledging it was a hell of an additional work 😭

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Kinda? We never finished nor even posted it but at some point we shared a quite unhinged co-writing story with @whiskeyjack and @00gangfriend00 and it was a lot of fun 🥰

14. What’s your all time favorite ship?

You... you guys have that? You don't just live by your Ship of the Moment just to instantly forget about it and hop on the Next Ship when it shows up? I'm sorry but I don't think I have one of those.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

What a trap question!!! 😂

It's All Coming Back To Me, obviously. Look, I really really want to finish it, not even for me at this point, but for the 120-something people who subscribed to it, for the faithful readers who still leave me comments every now and then hoping for closure. I know how it ends. I have it partially written. I just don't seem to know how to write for Good Girls anymore, and getting my head back into it feels like such an insurmountable load of work, I just- I'm trying, ok?

But like, if someone's interested in helping, or even writing that ending based on my notes (and getting full and proper credits for it obvi), just let me know! I'm really open to it 🥲

16. What are your writing strengths?

Probably dialogues? I've been told many times that my dialogues feel very close to the original, and the thing is, I write about TV shows and I have a very good ear so I think I catch quite easily the actors' voices and tones and mannerisms in my head, so every time I write down a line, I play it several times in my mind with the character's voice to determine whether they would say it like that or not. Looks like it's not working so bad.

Also I *think* I'm not too bad at stream-of-consciousness inner monologues. At least it's one of my favourite things to write so there's that.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Action scenes (that includes sex lol). Filling the gaps between the important parts. Descriptions. Setting up the scene.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

Like, featuring two different languages inside the same fic, or writing in different languages? I'm not sure I've ever really written the first one? I guess I find it a bit clunky, occasionally I've written scenes that included a character whose native language wasn't the one of the fic, and I'd give them a line or two if that's relevant to the plot (for instance, if characters are lost somewhere in another country, I can add a line/dialogue in another language for comedic effect. Or it can be a way for a character to whisper something for themselves), but the logistics are quite nightmarish, you gotta either assume your audience knows the second language, or translate the lines in the author's note, or have another character translate it in a way that doesn't sound too articifial, that's really really tedious haha

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Good Girls.

20. Favorite fic you’ve written?

You think I know that? Out of FOURTY-SIX??? Lol. Get out.

Tagging: @sdktrs12 @joeyjoeylee if you're around @riosnecktattoo @humanbra @hemerae-ramblings @sothischickshe @asteraceae-blue

#tagging games #writing #my fic #fanfic

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hueningsloverr · 11 months ago

Text

౨ৎ txt as musicals !

pairing: ot5 txt x musicals summary: god. idek where to begin. txt as musicals. word count : 0.6k im actually so sorry i even wrote this wow what was i thinking. if you dont know these songs LISTEN TO THEM.

yeonjun : heathers / mean girls there is also a tiny dash of moulin rouge in him

it boy energy is so reflected throughout BOTH

i’m sorry

definitely a candy store guy

he 100% cracks corny jokes like in stupid w/ love

but the amazing theatricality???

the vocals????

SO yeonjun

and ikik abt the soobin meangirl meme but like

lets be real

jjunie just has that energy

and not in a bad way

like in a 'yeonjun told me to dye my hair purple so i did!' way

and when i say heathers i don't mean the negatives

like that musical is fucked up

i mean the level of iconic-ness (?)

sassy man apocalypse fr

"i like looking hot buying stuff they cannot :3" - yeonjun (definitely)

soobin : six

...

i'm actually so sorry for this one!

he competes with himself, that much is obvious

soobin seems like the type to really question if he deserves something - if his suffering was enough

he's the type to compare past suffering to current

like 'well i suffered back then and i turned out fine, i'm not any more important for suffering now' type of stuff

he's the leader, its his job to be the strongest

and he lets himself have some fun

(i mean his first [?] scandal was him showing his middle toe.)

or he could be super serious like the great leader we all know he is

or he's just a total mess, but yet still so strong ??

hes admirable

he's in the history books fr

beomgyu : hamilton

the perfect balance of chaos and serious

i mean he's literally "lock up your daughters and horses!"

while also being "mom i'm so sorry for forgetting what you taught me"

beomgyu was written by lin manuel miranda argue with a wall

its also just so interesting, like gyu

like you could study both hamilton and gyu

a fan favourite

you can't go wrong with hamilton

and you can't go wrong with gyu

hamilton has its… fans

and gyu has his bamtoris

both would doxx you if you speak ill of their favs

the gateway into the community

like gyu was the first member i found out about

and hamilton was the first musical i liked

you dip your toes in, and next thing you know you just spent $25 for some merch

taehyun : hadestown

it’s so sad

yet serene and passionate like tyun

i mean, just look at him

those eyes - that smile!!

boba eyes :3

also, he so was a greek mythology kid

probably bought every percy jackson book / related piece of media when it came out

he knows everything

theres just something so tyun about it all

hadestown is a musical you might not know about

but the second you do you're like "wow wtf i was missing out on literally everything good in this world"

and that's literally tyun too

like if you somehow don't know about vocal king taehyun

the moment you find him obsession forms

or at least in my case

my little tyun🤧

i could see him staring in the mirror going "who are you? who do you think you are"

hueningkai : be more chill (bmc)

you can not tell me this boy didn't have some sort of issue making friends

the photos of him sitting alone at lunch (?) pre-debut???

hes so jeremy heere

because he's really just a sweetie

but no one notices him besides his very close friends

definitely would almost accidentally take over the state of new jersey

type of boy to go all the way if he likes a person

im talking joining the same clubs as them

and even joining the friend group they're in

all of it

we all know he used to think so poorly of himself and talk down on himself

like he had those voices in his head

has his michael in the bathroom moments

thinks he's a loner, a loser, a freak

you know the usual high school insults

but he's able to grow confident, with some help

i luv hueningkai ;3

and i luv be more chill

authors note : i lied this is not based off of making the bed. my bad. whoops. maybe next time!

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ur-dad-satan · 10 months ago

Text

I've recently become obsessed with the song Golden Hour by Jvke so here's how I think the OM bros would react to MC singing it to them.

This is the song btw so you can really get the vibe

youtube

That's just there incase you don't want to read it so you don't have to. They're all alone with MC in their parts but MC is singing this with their entire heart and changed all the she/her to he/him.

Luci

He would be skeptical as to why MC wanted to sing a song for him

He would still let then though

He would listen intently missing some of the references like Donald Glover

He would be incredibly impressed with MC's talents

His heart would skip a beat when MC calls him the love of their life

He wouldn't show how much the song is affecting him (in a good way ofc)

That is until "he's got glitter for skin, my radiant beam in the night"

Nah he's hooked. Can't stop singing until the song it over.

By the end of the song, he's holding back tears.

MC would kiss him all over his face and Luci wouldn't let them go

Mam

"Of course ya wanna sing The Great Mammon a song!!"

Mammon loves music anyway so he'll love that it's a song dedicated to him

He would almost choke at the "it was just two lovers, sitting in the car" part cause that's what they were doing

He too would listen to the lyrics intently and his face would become more and more red with every lyric

His heart would also skip a beat or two when MC called him the love of their life

MC would gently hold his face while singing "I don't need no light to see you shine" and he would melt

He's a puddle and would be for the rest of the song

By the end, tears are streaming down his face and his heart is going to explode

MC is never getting rid of him now

Mam would BRAG to everyone that HIS human wrote the most amazing song ever for him even though they didn't write it

He knows that, but he didn't care

He's now simping more than he ever has

Levi

Why does MC want to sing him a song? ARE THEY GONNA MAKE FUN OF HIM?! (obviously not)

He didn't know what to expect but appreciated the instrumental

He's immediately beet red after the "it was just two lovers" line

He's infatuated with the song the whole way through

MC would hold his hand or his face during "I don't need no light to see you shine" and he wouldn't feel like a burden for the first time in a while

He had stars in his eyes at the "a glorious look in his eye"

Levi is bawling at the end of the song and MC wipes his tears

They kiss his forehead and Levi realizes something:

He's fallen for the normie even harder

Sat

He would love to hear a song!! Especially after the day he's had (Luci yelled at him)

He would immediately love it from the instrumentals alone; he does appreciate orchestral music

He would attach to the line "fallin for each other". Was he that obvious?!

He tried his damnedest to hide how much this silly little song was thawing his "cOlD dEaD hEaRt"

He was taken aback by "my angel of light" especially since MC held his face while they sung it.

No one dared call him an angel because of his anger and never having been one. He always felt slightly left our from his brothers' memories

Hearing MC call him one... Made him emotional... He felt... Included?

He knew he had never been one, nor would he ever be one, but... It's the thought that counts

By the end, he was complementing their voice and hugging them tight trying to hide the tears as they flowed

This man would forever do everything in his power to love and protect you

Asmo

He loves music especially when it's sang for him.

He would listen intently and really take in the lyrics looking for complements

He especially gripped into the line "he's got glitter for skin, a radiant beam in the night".

His eyes were hearts from this moment on. Literally. His pupils became heart shaped.

He was completely infatuated with the human at this point and he was holding back how much he actually wanted to smile

The line "he knew he was the baddest, can you even imagine, fallin like I did" made him fold

He was smiling ear to ear.

The small touches to his hands, arms, and face were enough to make Asmo fall in love more than he ever did

Beel

He would love to hear a song, MC!!

He doesn't really care that much about music, but he likes to hear MC's voice.

He would grip onto "I was all alone with the love of my life"

He's the love of their life??!

He didn't know MC felt that strongly about him.

Though his face didn't show it much, he was bursting with excitement.

MC would touch his face during "can you even imagine fallin' like I did?" and he would absentmindedly nod

By the time the song was over, Beel would realize just how much he actually loved MC

When they were done singing, Beel would hug them into his chest tightly careful not to hurt them

Belphie

He wouldn't mind hearing MC sing while he fell asleep.

They would play the music quietly and let Belphie rest his head on their lap.

He would start paying attention to the lyrics after "fallin' for each other" but keep his eyes closed.

MC would play with his hair and gently touch his face while they sang.

What Belphie wasn't expecting was "My radiant beam in the night"

That made him look up and carefully watch MC keep singing.

Towards the end of the song, he realized how contented and happy he was to have them,

When MC finished, he held their hand and raised it to his lips planting a lingering kiss on the skin.

He'd never give up MC no matter what.

I adore this song and thought of this last week but finished it now. I may do an undatables version if this gets like 30 notes. Also, I don't think I'll include Luke in this one because it does say things like "love of my life" and "we were just two lovers" and that's not what we want for Luke at all.

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protect-daniel-james · 8 months ago

Note

WIP asks: what is your oldest? What is the one you will probably never finish?

Omg, do unfinished chaptered fics count?

AO3 tells me the oldest non-finished chaptered fic is Silent Freeway, an Alex Turner/Miles Kane fic from ancient times. I am kinda ashamed of it now, because ultimately it was too much for me to write about - I chose the light topics of mental health and psychosis with my poor English skills, and obviously it was a pain in the ass to write in the end. I wasn't brave enough to go back and read it but I can imagine the shit I wrote back in 2016 in English. It was too much drama for the sake of drama, no characterisation, no reasonable behavior... I will definitely never finish that one. I'm not that much into Milex, and the whole story seems childish today.

Fun fact - it has over 11 000 words making up 11 chapters. Yes, 11 chapters. Which means about 1 000 words per chapter (I was so proud of it back then, lmao). Good old days. Nowaydays I write a 11 000 word fic about Inzaghi brothers fucking.

WIP which I might actually finish one day is definitely Let's fade together, let's fade forever. No football. Historical Figures RPF combining two of my favorite fruity couples from late 18th century, Alex Hamilton/John Laurens and Frederick II/Hans Hermann von Katte. As the tag says, I imagine Heaven as a waiting room. A waiting room where Laurens and von Katte meet and talk and wait for their loved ones. I think it was a nice lil' idea, a fic that became known as "sad gays in heaven". Yeah, it is still rather naive and silly looking back, but I am still quite proud of that one. It's literally missing one chapter.

My problem is I get too excited about a new thing, and I am able to produce quite quickly a new fic when I am excited. A planned out multichaptered fic even. But then, the excitement fades - either because I find a more interesting new thing, or because the response is non-existent, and I see that something I was excited about and cared about isn't really interesting "to the outside". Now don't get me wrong, I'm not one to count kudos and comments because I know that the ships and themes I write about are very niche (I am well aware that if I write a Pedri/Gavi fic, it would get to 200-300 kudos, if I write a Grizione fic, it would be around 50, but if I write about Unai Emery, there will be like 5) - but even with this awareness, if a fic I truly was excited about doesn't really get a response, I just don't feel motivated to prioritise it, work on the next chapter, or write something about the pairing again (unless it's Unai and Football, because those fics I take as a form of experience, exploration, and almost academic work so I don't care if y'all aren't reading those; they are for me to explore the unexplored. although it's nice when people read and comment on them, and want to discuss its topics, obviously).

When it comes to unpublished WIPs, I don't really have many of those because I tend to start my WIPs when excited and then I usually work quickly (unless it's literally a 10 000+ words fic like the yacht fic or like the Inzaghicest one might be). One that I promised to do was a Henderson/Stevie G in Saudi Arabia engaging in bad, sleazy, desperate sex because they have no clue what they are doing there, but I haven't really started to work on that.

I started working on a Mourinho/Abramovich fic (with a flavour of Abramovich/Sheva).

"Mr. Abramovich - " José made a significant pause, spread out his hands over the edge of the desk that separated him from the addressed man. "I know you like him. Is easy to see." For a moment not a single muscle in Abramovich's face moved. Then, his eyebrows rose up, and he tilted his head, smiling; not just smiling but amused at such a simple yet daring statement. "Is it?" he asked, although José wasn't completely sure about the wording. It might have been just a simple, bemused repetition of the word he himself used to describe his reading of the situation - easy.

I think it's now the oldest actual draft that I have, but it's only 2 months old lmao. As I said, I finish my fics pretty quickly (after all, I usually write directly in AO3 - believe me, I did regret it a few times), and the one month due date on drafts works miracles.

#thank you!#myfics

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nyhti · 1 year ago

Note

Hello! If you don't mind it, do you have any favorite Pre-Crisis comics or issues you would consider required reading for that era? Thank you!

Ok ok ok. Lissen. I tried. I really did. The thing is that pre-crisis is a looooooooong era. It wasn't easy going through 47 years of bathistory and try and pick notable moments, especially because what counts as notable is very subjective. Also I just simply wouldn't consider myself a bathistorian. I mean, I only really care about the rogues, you know me. But! I tried! Here are some moments, that I think are noteworthy, or otherwise interesting. I wrote down why I think each issue is interesting, so you can decide for yourself if you think it's worth reading or not. I know I put things in here that other people might find filler stories and also left out things that some might consider really important (for example, you will find no Justice League here, as I just never cared about them.) It's my list, so it will have my biases. I hope I got all issue numbers and years correct. I was going to go through them one more time to check but........... I don't want to. Also, some of these I read literally years ago, so my memory of them might be hazy. Anyway, I hope you find at least a couple issues on this list you like :33 Golden Age (1938-1956) Detective Comics #27 (1939) ”The Case of the Chemical Syndicate” First Batman story Detective Comics #38 (1940) ”Robin the Boy Wonder” Dick's First appearance Batman #1 (1940) The first two Joker stories, the first Catwoman story and the second Hugo story. Really not a single skippable story in this one Batman #16 (1943) ”Here comes Alfred” Alfred's first appearance Detective Comics #83 (1944) ”Accidentally on Purpose” Alfred gets a makeover and starts looking like the Alfred we know and love today Batman #35 (1946) ”Dinosaur Island” Where the dinosaur in the Batcave came from World's Finest Comics #30 (1947) ”The Penny Plunderers” Where the giant penny is from Detective Comics #168 (1951) "The Man Behind the Red Hood" Joker's first origin story Superman #76 (1952) ”The Mightiest Team in the World” First Batman/Superman team up. They learn each other's identities. It's so fanfic-y. They actually have to share a room on a cruise, because there are too many people aboard. Only thing missing is if there was only one bed. Detective Comics #233 (1956) ”The Bat-Woman” First appearance of the original Batwoman Kathy Kane Silver Age (1956-1970)

World's Finest Comics #88 (1957) ”Superman and Batman's Greatest Foes!” First Joker/Lex Luthor team-up The Flash #123 (1961) ”Flash of two Earths” Not a Batman story, but quintessential to the lore as this is the introduction of the multiple earths Batman #164 (1964) ”Two-Way Gem Caper” Debut of the ”new look”. They refreshed the artstyle here. There are also other changes like the elevator to the batcave and a new batmobile among other things. This also starts my favorite era in bathistory, 1964 to 1970. Sooo many interesting things happened here. Detective Comics #327 (1964) ”The Mystery of the Menacing Masks” New look debut in Detective Comics Detective Comics #328 (1964) ”Gotham Gang Line-up” Alfred dies and we get aunt Harriet instead This story continues in: Detective Comics: #334, 336, 340 and 349 but if you want, you could just skip to: Detective Comics #356 (1966) ”The Inside Story of the Outsider” Alfred returns. Detective Comics #359 (1967) ”The Million Dollar Debut of Batgirl” Barbara's first appearance Detective Comics #387 (1969) ”The Cry of Night is – ”Sudden Death”” A modern re-telling of the first Batman story. Well, modern by 60s standards, but that's what I love about it so. Detective Comics #389 (1969) "Batman's evil eye" Here the writers are really longing back for the days of old when Batman was spooky and goffik. Also!! It's a Scarecrow story woooooooooo!!! My favorite Scarecrow story, in fact! Really the only villain you could've had in a story like this. Batman #217 (1969) ”One Bullet Too Many!” Dick leaves for Hudson university and Bruce and Alfred move to a penthouse in the city. Bronze Age (1970-1986) Batman #251 (1973) ”The Joker's Five-Way Revenge!” This is the issue where Joker starts murdering again Detective Comics #457 (1976) "There is No Hope in Crime Alley" Re-telling of Batman's origins. The first appearance of Leslie Thompkins my beloved. Just an all around good fucking story. Detective Comics #469-476 (1977-1978) Steve Englehart's run. Really a must read Batman #348 (1982) ”Shadow Play” Bruce, Dick and Alfred return to Wayne Manor. Also a Man-Bat story! Yippieeeeeee! Batman #357 (1983) ”Squid” Jason's first appearance (for one panel only, though) Detective Comics #525 (1983) ”Confrontation” First time Jason actually speaks Detective comics #526 (1983) ”All My Enemies Against Me!” Jason's parents die and he plays hero for the first time. Last issue of Gerry Conway's banger run. Also first time Jervis uses mind control (and it's on Jonathan!) Batman #365, Detective Comics #532, Batman #366 (1983) Jason dyes his hair and makes first apperance as Robin, but Bruce doesn't approve. A Joker story. Batman #368 (1984) ”A Revenge of Rainbows” Dick gives Jason his blessing and Jason finally becomes Robin officially. Detective Comics #566, Batman #400 (1986) Last issues of pre-crisis. Rip.

#sorry it took so long DDx

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shuffleoflove · 1 year ago

Text

i was looking through my notes app and found some notes i wrote while reading edge of great (the jatp novelisation) in feburary 2021 so i thought i'd post them bc i miss the time when i was so obsessed with jatp i could quote large parts of it from memory:

okay it's thicker than i expected this is a good start

multiple povs?! oh my god yesyesyes

i've read one page and I'm already loving it because i was expecting it to just be a retelling of the action with barely any insight to characters thoughts other than "i was feeling sad :(" but it's giving so much more than that

luke says sunset curve were all "vibing" shdhfnd

the dialogue is slightly different in some places but honestly i don't hate it

a pink flower in a vase next to rose?? the dahlia symbolism is here already people

bobby is a cheesy hopeless romantic confirmed

[luke about trying to be modest] "it was a new look for me, i'll admit." avdhfdhdhd

alex interrupts reggie trying to flirt with rose avdbfjdd i'm loving the new dialogue

THE HOT DOG CART IS BASICALLY CALLED SALMONELLA I-

luke makes a joke about staving to death oh god the dramatic irony

julie's literal first words are "my best friend flynn is amazing" 🥺🥺

JULIE SAID FLYNN WAS HER OTHER HALF 🥺🥺😭

loz feliz performing arts high school??

julie calls carrie cute?? girl-

i've been spelling dirty candi as "dirty candy" this whole time. whoops.

trevor has literal platinum records but the thing julie decides to point out is that one of his songs was in a car advert shdjdjfjf

nooo they took out flynn shouting demon at carrie

julie mentions flynn and how amazing she is at nearly every given opportunity

"flynn and i were always straight with each other" this is meant to a dramatic moment but i'm laughing at this ahdjdnem

julie is a writer!! not just of lyrics/poems, she writes other stuff too!!

she describes the garage as being full of ghosts when referring to memories of her mum... i'm living for all the dramatic irony

ahh julie and ray are speaking in spanish to each other so much more than they did the show

the teacup and spoon rose had been using before she died were still there 🥺

julie says that she felt like her mum was telling her to play the cd ahhh

the first thing she says about the guys is that they're cute JULIE AHDJFK

wavy hair reggie yesss

julie says oh my god instead of oh my gosh

julie doesn't know luke's name so she's calling him floppy acdjfjrks

her reasoning for letting the guys stay in the garage was because she thought it was what rose would've done 🥺🥺

ALEX'S POV HELL YEAH

they took out reggie losing his shirt this is so sad 😔

[alex about julie playing wake up] "i couldn't remember the last time I felt so moved by music that wasn't actually my own."

okay i get why they changed povs but i kind of wish we'd gotten julie's pov while she played wake up

the first episode took up about 1/5 of the book jesus-

they skipped the bit about the only thing scarier than one girl crying being two girls crying 😔

flynn: "instagram" alex: "what-stagram?"

flynn hugs julie after she tells her about playing music again awwww

noo they cut out the scene where ray comes in to the studio ffs stop cutting scenes please

alex: "it tingles in weird places" alex, literally one line later: "well, it did."

according to alex the other describe him as "warm and fuzzy"

also so far everyone's pov has called luke out for being too cheesy

reggie: "i'm gonna guess death breath"

alex is now describing luke as the puppy reggie never had

alex calling luke and reggie his family 🥺😭

when julie went into her room and found the guys messing around she was on her way to text flynn 🥺 this book just makes me love their friendship so much more

reggie is described as having "a mop of hair" god i wish 😔

dahlia symbolism count: 3. so far it's been a vase next to rose, the curtains in the studio, and the flowers in julie's picture of her

luke: "our instruments are attached to our souls." reggie: "and sometimes our belts."

okay so the book confirms that julie found therapy helpful but she just didn't want to go back because she thought others would see her as fragile, which imo is a lot better than in the show when she just seemed like she hated it

they merged alex asking if julie got back into music with luke showing her bright which i get because if they kept everything in the book would be pretty long but... idk i kinda liked how it was just julie and luke when he showed her bright

julie describes the wow performance as being like a superbowl half-time show

list of celebs who've been name-dropped so far: weezer, the smashing pumpkins, katy perry, and harry styles

julie wanted to kiss kayla?!? wlw julie confirmed

YES TIME FOR REGGIE'S POV

reggie's internal dialogue is using way more words than necessary and as an autistic person I relate to that so i'm gonna use this as proof reggie is autistic 😙✌

reggie says how little julie's smiled since they met and is now describing her smile in detail 🥺🥺

me, seeing that reggie's pov is already over: :(

me seeing that it's alex's pov and he's about to meet willie: :D

avxhfjfldnd alex was so mesmerised by how beautiful willie was he forgot to speak 😭😭

damn they took out willie asking alex if he's into guys if he wanted a picture with fake marilyn monroe (they changed it to spider-man)

y'all willie gave alex a hip bump I'm dying over here

"wait, how can i see you again?" god this is killing me i love them 😭🥺

"even if you don't have questions" willie is hardcore flirting and i respect that

"i liked the sound of that" god it's been a few minutes and alex is already whipped agshdndm

dahlia reference number 4 (this time it's a mug)

instead of calling julie "insanely talented" luke calls her "annoyingly talented"

julie canonically uses the word "bonkers" and idk why i love that so much

ahhh i'm already halfway through the book and it's still episode 3

FLYNN'S POV OH MY GOD YES YES YES

i'll look at the pictures first though

okay now onto flynn's pov

maybe this is just me, but why does everyone say "mother" instead of "mom" all the time? it seems weirdly formal but whatever

flynn calls flying solo "our song" (meaning her and julie's) 🥺

svdbfjff whenever alex went to meet willie he just said he was going for a walk

wait, walks? plural?! alex and willie had more interactions and we didn't get to see them?! livid 😤

willie wanted to show alex the museum because it was one of his favourite places... god I'm soft

"i would've followed willie just about anywhere" stoppp this is too much for me 😭🤧

"together. i liked the sound of that." awwefdhehrhe

alex's catchphrase seems to be "I liked the sound of that" rather than "okay"

"so close that I could feel his breath" why did I think they were gonna kiss 💀💀

willie: "feels good, right?" alex: "yeah, it does." alex, in his head: "i was talking about the screaming, but i was talking about being here, now, with willie, too." oh god oh fuck-

"wagging an eyebrow" girl why is that worded so weird 😭💀

nah there's no way luke doesn't know what a sample is

yess we're back to luke's pov 😎

the book confirms that it was luke who wrote "hi bobby" on the mirror but i still refuse to believe it because of the one tumblr post i saw comparing all the boys handwriting and saying it was reggie (also the writing it too neat to be luke's 😌)

they cut the entire julie-sneaks-around-while-flynn-distracts-carrie bit 😔 (and also the guys mooning trevor)

"and the truth was, [julie] was becoming important to me. i hated to let her down." awwww 🥺🥺

sbdjfkfl reggie called the hgc creepy and alex got defensive because it "was willie's place"

when luke said they were "overdressed" they all tucked their shirts in

ffs not the eyebrow wagging again (this time from flynn)

so julie considers carrie as her frenemy and not an actual enemy... inch resting...

"the awkward "joke" just sat in the air like dead fish" abdhfjf what are these metaphors

HOLY SHIT HOLY SHIT WILLIE'S POV?!?! I WAS NOT EXPECTING THAT HOLY FUCK AHHHHH

awww when alex asked about the lifers being "sworn to secrecy" willie wanted to telm him about caleb owning everyone at the hgc's souls but he couldn't 🥺🥺 if I catch anyone posting willie slander it's on sight 🥊😠🥊

OKAY WHAT I'M LIVID - they reduced the whole "do this forever"/"there's a lot to like here" thing to just the dialogue. literally no mentions of the lingering glances or luke's "you got a crush on willie". fucking disgraceful. i hate it here.

THERE - WE LITERALLY HAVE PROOF THAT WILLIE DIDN'T KNOW CALEB WANTED THE GUYS TO JOIN HE HGC WILLIE ANTIS CAN GO HOME NOW

willie watched the guys getting stamped and said it felt like his stomach was filling with lead SEE I WILL NOT TOLERATE ANY WILLIE SLANDER IN THIS HOUSE

willie noticed alex looking into the crowd before leaving and wondered if he was looking for him... do tell me willie who else could he possibly be looking for

"alex said, looking stressed (then again, when did alex look not stressed?)" avshdnfmfr

julie describes nick's voice as "soft" and "graveled"

apparently julie has had a crush on nick since kindergarten, and in kindergarten nick cried because he couldn't get the lid off of his glue stick

luke says that knowing he let julie down at the dance hurt more than caleb's jolts 🥺🥺

the boys' little "sorry" song has it's lyrics written the same way the other songs, the ones actually in the soundtrack, do. tell me jatp why the sorry song isn't on the soundtrack right now 🔫😠

literally no mention of alex's dancing what in the homophobia

according to julie, finally free is about the power of connecting through music, but i still choose to believe it's a gay anthem about coming out

when julie saw her dad cooking breakfast and humming finally free she "almost died from how cute it was"

wait i just realised throughout this whole book there's been barely any mentions of julie and luke sharing the mic, and nothing about luke and reggie sharing either, and julie waking through luke in bright was just ignored. disgusting.

julie canonically thinks ray is the best dad ever 🥺🥺

that being said I'm pissed the book cut reggie from this scene

julie describes herself as being "charmed" by luke being nervous jskdkkdhs

flynn's pov again babey 😎

lmao nevermind the chapter was two pages long

also the whole perfect harmony sequence is just cut and all we hear is julie mention it to flynn... bruh

reggie and alex both see how hard luke is simping for julie and just give each other shit-eating grins whenever he mentions her dgehdjdj

when willie tells alex he can't explain why he's spying on him alex says "and to think i had felt there had maybe been something between us" fuckk

alex wondered if willie had ever had feelings for him or if he was playing him the whole time 🥺😭 bby nooo

they cut girls amirite... no one talk to me...

y'all... i think, other from julie, alex has had the most pov chapters... interesting...

the boys were literally so distressed about flynn eating pizza when they could smell it and not eat it and said they'd die of deprivation sgdhdjfkd

alex: *was choking back a sob*

willie: *was choking back a sob*

me: *was also choking back a sob*

😃 wtf... when willie says he cares about alex and hates that he brought them all into this mess, alex snaps at him... bro wtf that is not what happened and doesn't fit in with what alex was feeling in that moment at all... fuck this book

julie hugs flynn in the book at lot more than in the show so maybe it does have rights after all...

they've made a "face the music" pun at least 5 times so far in this book

wait - luke says that julie played his parents unsaid emily implying she sang it?? yo...

"but there was nothing I could say, nothing I could do, to make things better. so instead, I watched her go." why does that line hit so hard

"i pulled him in for a quick hug" lmao girl no

I JUST REALISED they cut the "i would've still followed you" scene 😭 the homophobia of it all 💀💀

'"i won't forget you," he said before spoofing out. Me either.' god don't do this to me today 🥺🥺

"with my smoothest dance move" now THAT'S the alex i know and love

the promoter and his assistant have names now: frank and tasha

the book's nearly over and i just realised there were barely any reggie pov chapters 🥺 not only is he my comfort character i also really liked his internal dialogue... oh well 😔

they really let there be spelling mistakes in this book smh

"who knew sunset boulevard smelled like cat pee and old takeout containers? not very glamorous, given that this was my hollywood rockstar dream."

"the music filling me like air - like joy" god I love that line

julie feels the need to point out how good luke looks in his tuxedo avdhdndmd

"i'm gonna miss you." "not as much as we're gonna miss you." oh god oh fuck-

wait THEY GRABBED HANDS ON STAGE??! AM I MISSING SOMETHING!?!?

"are you real?" "we were always real. But now... maybe... we're here?"

okay so i finished it and it was fun to read overall but i felt like past episode 3 was very rushed and condensed (makes sense since episode 3 finished past the half-way point of the book) and it stopped being as well written (barely any internal dialogue and descriptors), and some moments were mischaracterised heavily (including a lot of the willex) and juke just didn't seem developed at all. also i wish reggie had gotten more pov chapters since he's, y'know, a main character. i'm pretty sure he got, like, 2 :( also a lot of the music scenes lacked emotion but since this is an adaptation of something with music without music i'll let it slide. it was still nice to read either way.

#unfortunately my brain lost the capacity to be completely and utterly obsessed with jatp #but it still holds a special place in my heart #lova's terrible posts #jatp #julie and the phantoms #the edge of great #jatp book #jatp novelisation #julie molina #alex mercer #luke patterson #reggie peters #willie jatp #willie wilbur williamson #flynn taylor #flynn jatp #carrie wilson #ray molina #caleb covington

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