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whats-rambled-rambled · 4 years ago

Text

Long Nights - part 5

Neil x Reader

Chapter 5: After rain

(see chapter 4, 3, 2, 1)

summary: you learn to cope with the new situation, but you aren't the only one struggling

warnings: 18+, angst and pain, explicit language and other things

author’s note: This part of the story's been with me for... oh, so long. I just hope I did it justice. ✨6,1k words.✨ I don't even know.

Hurt/Comfort.

The song for this part is Dermot Kennedy - After rain

Enjoy! All feedback is greatly appreciated, let me know what you think?

——————

Tag list: @cxnnienikas @neutron-stars-collision @ergunbilge @invertedneil @wanderedaway @mellifluous-cosmos @wonderwoman292 @buckysgoldenheart @townmoondaltwistle @theriverbeneaththeriver (please let me know if you want to be added/removed from the list)

-----

Your hands clenched on the bed’s frame, its coldness felt like the only real thing your drugged mind could process.

Doctor’s words were filling the room, but they were muffled as if they were coming from behind a barrier. Falling from such height...extreme luck...no broken bones…head trauma...internal bruising....

Was all that talking really necessary? Yeah, you were battered, all right. And it seems that even with painkillers the weird throbbing, like a morse code from your bruised cells, was about to stay with you for a little while.

...just like the darkness.

The more the doctor spoke, the more it became clear that they didn’t have any definite answers for you. Seemed like the day spent on being prodded, stabbed with needles, and tossed into various machines resulted in nothing more than a verdict: optic nerve injury.

As for what were you supposed to do now--

“Let me get this straight, doctor,” you said, slowly losing patience. “Your only solution now is: let’s wait and see what happens?”

Drumming fingers against a piece of plastic, followed by a sigh.

“Yes. There is no effective treatment, we could try a high dosage of corticosteroids, but there is no evidence that it’s gonna make any difference, really. And as some recovery may spontaneously occur within days or weeks--”

Weeks.

A cold shiver ran down your spine and you swallowed with effort.

And that was a maybe.

You just wanted to go home.

“Grand,” you cut in, “please tell me I can wait for that possible joyful occurrence anywhere else but here.” You aimed for a lighter tone, but every word coming out of your mouth was dripping with bitterness. Grimacing at your own attitude, you forced a weak smile to appear on your face. “No offense, doc.”

“None taken,” the doctor said with a snicker. “I get it.” A short pause filled with a rustling of paper. “With all the tests done, I don’t think we need to keep you here for observation any longer, but I’d recommend you weren’t alone for the next few days. Do you have anyone to take care of you after we discharge you?”

“I don’t need--”

Neil’s firm voice overlapped with yours.

“Yes, she has.”

You huffed, startled. And a bit annoyed.

You almost forgot Neil was in the room, but to be fair, you were quite sure he’d never left your side since you woke up. His initial nervous chatter got replaced by a silent presence, always ready to jump in should you needed anything - no matter if it was a glass of water or an arm to lean on. It was all comforting, endearing even, and you were so grateful to have him around, but the thought of having Neil in your apartment triggered an irrational panic.

Instead of dwelling on the roots of the anxiety, you decided to over-talk it.

“Neil, I appreciate the offer, but I’ll be okay, and you surely have better things to do than babysitting me.”

“I don’t.” Was that a hint of hurt in his voice? “Doctor, can you discharge her even if she is gonna be alone out there?”

“I’d rather she spent at least one more day here then.”

Unbelievable. You rolled your eyes, hoping it would make the same effect as always, and groaned. “Fine, you win, only because I want nothing else but to sleep in my own bed tonight.”

“Excellent,” said the doctor cheerfully, “I’ll get the forms and come back to you soon.”

“Thank you, doc,” you sighed, hanging your head in defeat.

After spending enough time with a person, it was always easy to recognize them by the way they walk. That’s how you knew it was Neil who approached you, ever so hesitantly.

And only because of a brush of his fingers against your hand you realized you were still clinging onto the bed frame.

“Hey, I’ll just help you set up everything you need there, all right?” he said quietly and you felt him sitting down next to you. “You’re gonna have all the space you want, and as soon as you decide it’s too much, I’ll get out of your hair, I promise.”

He must have noticed that little panic of yours, huh?

“I didn’t mean it like that.” You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to form a coherent thought. “It sounds good though, thank you.”

“Sure thing.” Neil shifted slightly. “How are you feeling?”

You shrugged and grimaced. “I don’t know, but either I’ve slept through the best high or these drugs they gave me are kinda lame.” Hearing Neil’s light chuckle, you cracked a small smile. “Honestly? I’m knackered.”

He hummed with sympathy.

“Is there anything I can do for you now?”

The softness in his voice was more than your tired and dazed mind could handle. You leaned to the side and rested your head on his shoulder.

“Just… take me home,” you asked, forcing the words past your clenched throat.

Neil exhaled sharply and carefully wrapped an arm around you, pressing a cheek to the top of your head.

“Of course.”

------

“Welcome to my crib.”

“Thank you, it’s...” - Neil hesitated as he closed the door behind you - “...cosy.”

Patting the wall to your right, you located a small hook and hung the keys on it.

“That is certainly one word for it,” you snorted. “Why, what did you expect?”

“Frankly? Considering you’re such an... acclaimed locksmith, I imagined something… well, bigger, for starters.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at the way he stumbled on words, trying so hard not to sound offensive in any way.

Grinning, you put on your most snobbish tone. “Ah, sorry to disappoint, all my gold, glitter, and general pizzaz got moved to one of my many summer houses as my spacious lair worthy of the most infamous thief is under renovation, so I was forced to retreat to my humble family place in this ghastly neighborhood.”

“Such a shame,” he said and a smile brightened his words. “I like it, though. Matches your vibe, somehow.”

“Because it’s small, detached, empty, yet somehow messy?”

Neil sighed in a way you were absolutely sure he was rolling eyes at you, then helped you with the coat. “It’s gonna take more than putting words in my mouth to make me want to leave you here all by yourself, you know.”

You were quite sure a dirty joke was hiding in there, but it eluded your tired brain.

“Damn, need to up my game then,” you giggled, leaning against the wall to take the shoes off without losing your balance. “Nah, I’m messing with you, I’m grateful you got me out of there. Can’t wait to rinse that hospital stench off of me.”

“Do you want me to run a bath for you?”

You mused over the idea for a moment, “Thanks, I’ll take a shower - two minutes tops and I’d end up asleep in the ‘tub.” Probably even faster, considering that you already were running on fumes. “Anyway, make yourself at home, gonna grab some fresh clothes.”

Neil was not willing to give up.

“I’ll get you--”

“I’ve got this,” you uttered, instantly hating yourself for how harsh it came out, so you quickly added, “But would you please put the kettle on?” sending an apologetic grimace along with your words.

“On it.”

He seemed happy to have something to do. Or at least sounded like it as he took the crackling grocery and takeaway bags to the kitchenette.

You walked across the room with confidence, your hand reluctantly extended ahead on your waist level just in case you miscalculated the route to the bedroom. When you reached the door frame, you smiled to yourself. It wasn’t that hard, was it? Almost like going to the bathroom at night, not willing to put the light on to avoid waking up, right?

And exactly then, your shin hit the edge of the bed footboard, the impact sending a searing wave of pain up your whole leg. You bit your knuckle to stifle a groan and a curse that was bound to follow. Every. Goddamn. Time.

The noises coming from the other room stopped, but luckily there was no question. Nor a hero coming to rescue you from the sudden and vicious attacks of furniture.

Finally, the closet. Your fingers ran through the folded clothes. Clean underwear. A soft t-shirt. Comfy pj pants. The fatigue was so severe that the term dress to impress didn’t even cross your mind. Not that Neil cared, right? But before you stepped back from the wardrobe, you hesitated, sliding your hands down to one of the bottom drawers. All that boring into nothingness was straining, and keeping your eyes closed all the time felt wrong, somehow. Might as well, you shrugged, pulling out a silky blindfold. Maybe this would trick your brain into thinking it was just a game. A temporary thing. Nothing serious.

...but what if--

You took a shaky breath and slammed the closet shut. Swallowing with effort, you took the clothes and limped out of the room, then followed the wall to the bathroom.

Neil’s concerned voice reached you halfway there.

“You okay?”

“Peachy,” you said and flashed your teeth in a strained grin.

“Let me know if you need anything, all right?”

A change of strategy, then. You certainly didn’t mind, at least this way it didn’t trigger the unnecessarily rude reaction. And you had a feeling that you were going to need a pair of eyes to take care of those bruises of yours.

...or you could just follow the radiating ache and slap some gel where it hurts most, but at this point, as the painkillers were slowly wearing off, it would probably be easier to just pour the whole tube on the tiles and roll over in it.

“Will do, thanks.”

You closed the door behind you and sighed. The undressing required an accompaniment of grunts, hisses and curses, and when you finally got into the shower (hitting yourself only once while doing so) you were all sweaty and panting as if you’d run up twenty flights of stairs.

You winced as the warm water poured over your body, but you couldn’t wait to get rid of the lingering smell of antiseptics. Using soap uncovered the injured spots with a burning precision, but you gritted your teeth and soldiered through it, changing position slightly so you wouldn’t cause more damage with shampoo and conditioner. Condemning your past self for choosing a matching set of hair products, you were forced to guess and pick one to pour a little bit of it on your hand to judge which is which based on the texture of the fluid. Why did you even bother…?

When you were done and more or less dry, you put on the panties and wrapped another towel around yourself. A slow thumping in your head was growing stronger by the minute, but it was still bearable. As for taking care of the bruises… you realized you didn’t even know where the arnica ointment was. You’d bought one on your way just in case, but that meant--

You groaned and rubbed an eye with the back of your hand. Help it was, then.

“Neil?” you called out, cracking open the door.

A sudden rumble of a chair made you cringe, but a corner of your mouth twitched.

“What is it?” he asked as his rushed steps carried him closer.

“Could you help me with putting something on the most banged-up spots, please?” - a sheepish smile crept on your lips - “I thought about just mixing some cream with my lotion and rubbing it all over, but--”

He scoffed as if the idea personally offended him. “Jesus, please don’t. I’ll be right back.”

Your legs seemed to weigh a tonne, but also started to shake as though they were about to give in any moment, so you sat back on the edge of a bathtub with relief.

Neil came back after a while and muffled clanking suggested he brought a full medkit with him. You waited as he washed his hands thoroughly, and you stifled an amused giggle at the dedication, even though it was nothing more but common sense.

Neil’s soft voice broke the silence. “I’m gonna take a look at those wounds first, but for that, I need to touch you, is it okay?”

“Yeah, of course,” you shrugged. “I imagine you can’t do plenty without that, huh?”

A light chuckle. “Fair enough.” And featherlike touches that followed.

Careful fingers examining every bruised inch of skin, starting from the freshly hurt shin, scraped knees, going up your thighs until they met the edge of the towel. Then, ghosting over your hands, unhurriedly moving up the forearms…

You realized your breath got shaky.

He tucked a still quite damp strand of hair behind your ear and his fingertips glided over your forehead and down your temple, traced your jawline up to your chin. His knuckles grazed your neck, then moved across your collarbones, but when they met the towel again, Neil hesitated.

“Nothing you haven’t seen before, right?” you joked playfully and untucked the corner of the towel, letting it slide down your body.

A sharp inhale and a slipped-out curse.

“Christ…” uttered Neil, and you were quite sure what he was referring to. Your hip pulsated with dull pain in the place where the oxygen container had been, or rather where it must have moved to during the escape, bruising the hip bone and surrounding area at the impact.

You forced a crooked smile to your face. “And here I was hoping it looked better than it felt.”

“I can always lie to you if you want,” he offered, aiming for a lighter tone.

Shaking your head, you nibbled on your bottom lip. Somehow, the sole thought of him lying to you seemed like a certain heartache.

“No.” Your voice sounded weak, but maybe that was understandable, given how powerless you felt overall. Or maybe you could stop being so pathetic any moment now.

You closed your eyes, and while you tried to parley with your brain to give you a break, Neil started meticulously treating your wounds, focused on not causing any more discomfort than it was needed. You switched all your attention to his ministrations, grimacing slightly from time to time as he was tending particularly sore spots. Neil’s warm fingers contrasted with the cold ointment, all the different sensations fought a merciless battle to take precedence over one another, making even more of a mess in your tired head.

You heard Neil shifting in front of you as he was about to move to your injured face. Acting on an impulse, you spread your legs to allow him to come closer, and so he did, positioning himself on his knees between your thighs without a word. Quite a concentration, you thought and smiled fondly to your memories of the times you’d seen him so committed to a task. Slightly furrowed brows, blonde strands falling into shining blue eyes, with a bottom lip tugged between the teeth...

A brief touch on your temple brought you back to reality and you gasped, reaching out to hold on to Neil to keep your balance. As you rested your hands on his sides, he gently cupped your face and continued with taking care of the bruises. It felt as if the warmth radiating from him was mending you whole, even more so when it got combined with tender, soothing brushes of Neil’s thumb against your cheek. You melted into his palm and exhaled slowly, dropping your shoulders and relaxing.

Before you could stop the words from spilling out, you said under your breath, “It was just a fall, I don’t know how it got that bad,” voicing the thought that’s been on your head all day.

Neil pulled back abruptly and the tranquil moment shattered like glass against the bathroom tiles.

“Are you being serious right now? Just a fall? You’re lucky you’re alive, goddamnit, let alone able to walk!” Disbelief mixed with anger in his tone, taking you aback. And to your surprise, it felt like yet another wound, inflicted right at your chest. “Y-you hit the wall before you crashed on the ground, you--” his voice broke and Neil sighed. You heard him packing the medkit, simply tossing things inside before he moved away.

“Oh,” was all you could say, reaching for the abandoned towel to wrap it over your shoulders, in a sudden and desperate need to cover yourself. In every way possible. “Remind me to tie a cat and a buttered slice of bread to myself the next time we do this.”

He didn’t respond to your poor attempt at lighting up the mood, instead, you heard the door handle, a deadpanned “I’ll heat up the food” and he was gone.

You had no idea where his reaction had come from. Normally, you’d have followed him straight away to confront him, but right then you felt so exhausted and helpless you just slouched in your spot, with your hands fisted on the towel, and sat like that for a while, leveling your breath. You mustered all the strength you had left, found your clothes and put them on. Then, you tied the blindfold, letting a piece of sleek material bring a shred of comfort and hide a pitiful glimmer in the corners of your eyes.

You joined Neil in the other room and sat at the table. He didn’t comment on your attire nor the choice of accessories, hell, he barely even spoke to you when he put the plate in front of you, as well as through the whole meal.

Even though you’d picked up your favourite comfort food on the way, it tasted bland, and with your stomach tied into a knot, you couldn’t force more than a few bites into your system. Judging by the sounds - or rather the lack thereof - coming from across the table, Neil’d lost his appetite too.

Finally, you cleared your throat, breaking the heavy silence. “I think I’m full,” you said and stood up, grimacing slightly.

“I’ll do the dishes, go lie down,” he said quietly. “Please.”

As if he anticipated an argument. You really had no energy for that.

“Thank you. Are you--...” you stumbled on the question, but Neil chimed in.

“I’ll be on the couch.”

...maybe it was for the best.

You nodded and turned on your heel to fetch a spare pillow and a blanket while Neil was occupied with the dishes. The ever-growing headache was becoming unbearable, but you hoped that the sweet arms of Morpheus would bring a much-needed release soon. You brushed your teeth quickly and mumbling “‘night,” you disappeared into the bedroom, leaving the door half open for god knows what reasons. Perhaps to make you feel less alone.

The plan of sleeping off the worst pain looked good on paper but proved to be too hard to execute. That bloody awful feeling of being tired beyond comprehension and still unable to doze off, right? You tossed and turned (although carefully), trying to find the most comfortable position. After a while, you took the blindfold off and curled on your side, staring into the nothingness again. Listening to the sound of running water coming from the bathroom. Forcing every breath through your clenched chest. Trying to focus on anything other than neverending soreness.

You heard Neil’s footsteps and how they stopped right at your door. Stalling.

And you didn’t even try pretending you were asleep. Waiting.

“Hey... I wanted to check if you need anything before I turn in for the night.”

The softness of his voice was tainted by something as if he was holding back. But you were so glad to hear it anyway.

“Actually,” you said, propping yourself on the elbow and wincing, “could you bring me one of those fancy painkillers, please? I thought I might do without for a little while but-- ...yeah, not quite.”

“Of course, coming right up.”

When Neil was back, you sat on the bed, allowing him to hand you a glass and ...a shot glass? You shook the latter slightly and something rattled inside.

“Ah, okay, smart,” you smiled with recognition. “Thanks.”

“Don’t tell me you thought it was vodka?”

A hint of amusement in his tone made you snort.

“I can’t say I would mind,” - shrugging, you swallowed the pill and washed it down with cool water - “but this is gonna be more efficient, I guess.”

You shifted in your spot to put down both glasses on a bedside table. Neil was there to make sure you actually placed them on top of it, pushing your forearm gently when you were about to create a mess.

That light touch brought a lump back to your throat. As if the awkward silence wasn’t suffocating you enough.

“If that’s all…” said Neil quietly, taking a step towards the door.

But you reached out into the darkness and found his hand.

“Neil…” you squeezed his fingers, desperately trying to convey words that eluded you. Your plea was barely a whisper. “...stay?”

The pulse pounded in your ears as the stillness that followed seemed to last forever.

Then, Neil squeezed your hand back.

“I will,” he choked out, and his thumb grazed over your knuckles. “Be right back.”

You nodded and let go of his hand, not even sure that he could see your gesture, then moved to the other side of the bed. The held-back breath escaped in a shudder as another wave of pain overrode your senses, leaving a trail of cold sweat down your spine.

A faint tock of the light switch in the other room, then footsteps and a pillow landing next to yours. Neil snuggled down, keeping his distance, and you curled again in your spot, hoping that his proximity will calm you down enough to fall asleep. But as you said your goodnights and Neil’s breath leveled and got deeper, you still waited on the pills to start working, getting more and more lost in your own head and thoughts you’d managed to keep lidded on until now.

Because if only you’d cracked that safe faster. Or maybe if you’d discussed that escape route beforehand, somebody would have found a better path through the roofs. No, scratch that, the plan was tight, and it was your goddamn fault that you’d gotten distracted by a sodding rain, of all things. And that jump? Bloody amateur hour. Should have seen that coming, stepped to the side, or caught onto anything. You’d been granted a second chance at that wall. But no, you’d had to panic like a bush-leaguer, as if it had been your first fall in your life. And now you were lying there, feeling sorry for yourself. Abso-fucking-lutely pathetic.

What if Madame Karma finally decided to make you pay? What if you were never going to get your sight back? A warm tear trickled down your face slowly. No more free runs and adrenaline rushes while taking shortcuts through the most obscure places. No more lying on the rooftops to observe how the sky changes colours through the night. No more sitting on the hill and watching how the sun reflected in the river. How it danced on that messy blonde hair. You would never see his blue eyes lighting up again--

Your chin trembled as the tears stained your pillow. It felt as if you were nothing but pain, fear, and heartbreak. Pressing your lips together, you stifled a sob that shook your body mercilessly. You were nothing.

“What’s wrong?”

You wanted to brush it off, to tell him you were okay and he could go back to sleep. But instead, you sniffled and whimpered, unable to pass any word through your tightened throat.

Neil gasped and placed a hand on your shoulder.

“Hey, hey, come here,” he said softly as his fingers pressed lightly onto your back, urging you to move and you shifted into his embrace, clenching your fists on his t-shirt, struggling for every breath. “I’ve got you, it’s okay, it’s gonna be okay,” he cooed, wrapping the arms around you gingerly. A much-needed reassurance whispered over and over again like a plea to anyone who could be listening.

Weeping quietly into Neil’s chest, you sought refuge in his closeness, clinging onto him as he held you and stroked your hair, waiting for the worst to pass. Soon, you ran out of tears, and there were just sobs, convulsing you whole like a heart-wrenching hiccup. Neil hugged you a little tighter, placed a small kiss on top of your head, and started humming, a melody barely more than a murmur. It felt familiar, but why?

By and by, the song and a steady heartbeat against your cheek weaved together and calmed your racing mind. Enough to finally let you drift off, with Neil’s soothing voice and warmth enveloping you, bringing comfort and hope for a better tomorrow.

-----

You should have known better than to expect something to be different when you woke up. Swallowing down the disappointment and resignation, you dug yourself up from under the covers. The pain dialed down, but was very much there, especially during sudden moves.

Maybe you would feel better if you washed your face, still a bit puffed after all that--

…oh shit.

Your brain halted, torn between making you cringe and spreading the warmth through your chest. If you were to survive the day, the key was not to think about what happened last night. At least you didn’t have to look him in the eyes, huh? Armed with a smile, albeit a bit sour, you grabbed some clothes on your way out and ventured into the quiet living room.

“Neil?”

For a split second you were sure he was gone, but--

“Over here.” Judging by the sound of it, here was somewhere near the couch. “How are you feeling?”

Concern. Obviously. He’d seen you at your worst, so there was no point in hiding your state.

“Like I’ve spent some time inside a cement mixer,” you sighed. “But better, thanks. What time is it?”

“Almost 3 o’clock.” A faint thud of a book being put down. “Are you hungry? I was about to fix something.”

It was a good moment for your insides to growl in confirmation, but at least this time your body decided to spare you. Although your stomach was pretty much cleaving to your backbone, all right.

“Oh yes, please.” You smiled with appreciation and raised a hand with a bundle of clothes. “I’ll join you in a minute.”

That minute took a little longer, as your mobility was still pretty lacking, but fresh as a (beaten-up) daisy, in a comfortable outfit and a blindfold, you followed your nose to the kitchenette.

“Smells delicious.”

A soft chuckle came through the sizzling. “Hope it tastes good as well, wanna try?” When you nodded, you heard Neil walking up to you. “Open your mouth, careful - it’s hot.”

You recognized the rich flavor as some variation of the Napoli sauce, perfectly balanced, and you could only hum in approval. Where the hell had he gotten those herbs from?

“It’s amazing,” you said, but couldn’t resist a little smirk, “or I’m just starving.”

Neil scoffed lightly. “Might be that.” There was a smile and a hint of pride in his tone, and it made you beam a little wider. “Come sit down.”

When you did, and a bowl of pasta landed in front of you on the table, your mind involuntarily went back to last evening. That tension. Sudden distance. Everything after that. What was worse, it seemed like you weren’t the only one thinking about it, because the silence that fell between you now grew heavy with unresolved issues lingering in the air.

But maybe you were misreading the room and you were fine.

“Listen, about yesterday--”

...or not.

Instead of letting Neil finish, you panicked, and before you could stop yourself, you used his moment of hesitation to blurt out, “Oh god, I’m so sorry, I was exhausted and everything hurt and--” you frowned and hid the face in your palm. The shame felt like a tightening ring around your chest, making it hard to breathe. ”I’m sorry you had to see that.”

“Wait, what?” huffed Neil, his voice filled with consternation. ”Jesus, no, that’s not what I meant, I--” he faltered and groaned, then added more softly, “Why are you even apologizing for that?” And when you shook your head, unable to find the right words, Neil gently touched your arm, rubbing it up and down slowly. “I’m glad you weren’t alone.”

Your heart clenched with fondness as you palmed over his hand.

“Thank you for being there for me.”

A twist of the wrist and a light squeeze on your fingers.

“Of course.”

Like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

After a moment, you asked quietly, “If it isn’t about that, then what?”

A loud buzz cut through the air, the unexpected noise almost making you jump in your seat. Impeccable timing.

Neil picked the vibrating phone from the table. “It’s work, I have to get that.” His hand was still holding yours, reluctant to let go. “If I’m not done by the time you finish eating, two words: bed rest.”

“May I make it a couch rest, doc?” you grinned, and by the resigned sigh you could tell Neil definitely rolled his eyes at you.

“Just make yourself comfy and horizontal, all right?” A final brush of his thumb against your fingers and he was up, walking off from the table. “Hi, what’s up?”

Whatever they needed him for, it took so much time that you finished your meal and obediently moved to the couch. That unfinished talk left you anxious enough to nervously pick at the edge of the blanket, but as Neil was still lost in a hushed conversation, and the aforementioned blanket was way too cosy, you slowly drifted off into a dreamless nap.

You weren’t sure what woke you up - a shift on the other side of the couch, or a heavy sigh, one of those signaling the weight of the whole world on somebody’s shoulders. Hearing the latter was enough to wipe the remains of sleep from your system and you sat up, grunting slightly.

“What is it?”

Another sigh.

“I’m an idiot.”

You puffed your cheeks and shrugged, a corner of your mouth twitching in a nervous smile.

“Before I let out a purposeful no and kick you - why are you saying that?” Silence. “...Neil?” When the answer was not coming for too long, you moved to your knees, reaching out until you touched his shoulder. No reaction. Trying to keep a rising worry at bay, you urged him quietly, “Talk to me, please.”

Neil inhaled slowly and he finally spoke, his voice barely there.

“I’m so sorry.”

“For what?” you asked, knitting your brows together as you brushed your hand down his arm only to find his clenched fist, tightening even further under your touch.

“For yesterday, for letting it out on you, when you were just--” he paused to swallow audibly, and then continued, blurting out one strained word after another, “and all of that while this whole mess is my goddamn fault because if I hadn’t hesitated out there, we both would have made it in time--”

“No, no, no, you can’t do that to yourself,” you said, crawling into his lap and nestling between his legs, wrapping yours around his waist. “It was a perfectly normal reaction.” The pulse thumped in your ears when you placed one hand on Neil’s chest and the other one travelled up along his neck to cup his face. Then your thumb glided over a wet trail on his cheek and it felt as if your heart shattered into a million pieces. Oh please, no. “My darling...” you whispered, but it was as if Neil barely acknowledged you were there, trembling and lost.

He pressed his forehead to yours and continued, traces of dread ringing in his hollow tone more and more with every choked-out sentence.

“When I turned back and I saw that--….at first, I thought you’d been shot, then you fell and-- suddenly all I could think was if your oxygen container was intact, or--... I called the Cavalry on the way down but I was so scared I was too late, I thought--” his voice broke and you felt him frowning as he shuddered, struggling to carry on. “I thought that you were gone, and I didn’t--”

His heart raced under your palm while you kept stroking his cheek, consoling him softly, “Neil, I’m here, it’s all right, I’m here.” But when that didn’t seem like enough to bring him back to you, you reached to his neck to pull him closer and kissed him, desperate to make him stop spiralling down. To make him stop hurting.

A muffled whine against your lips. But then you felt him melt and he kissed you back, still helpless, wrapping his arms around you carefully as if he expected you to fall apart under his touch. Not quite there. You deepened the kiss purposefully, burying your hands in his hair, tugging at the strands as you pressed yourself to him as much as you could in your position. You didn’t care about your own pain or discomfort. If any of you were meant to be lost in any way, it might as well be this. Neil gasped and lifted you up so you properly straddled him, then tightened the embrace, clinging on to you for dear life as he captured you in another kiss, and this time it was his turn to try to convey the unbearable mixture of despair, relief, and immense longing. All of that poured into this simple act of devotion until there was nothing but pure need. To touch and to be touched. To hold and to be held. To be close. To be wanted. To be found.

A breathless moan escaped your mouth and Neil pulled back ever so slightly.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he said softly, his fingertips gliding over your features.

Oh, how much you missed looking into his eyes.

The fact that he cared, without simply going ahead with it, made your chest clench with fondness. At this point, you trusted him beyond reason, although it was still nice to hear it.

“I’m not made of glass,” you huffed, nuzzling his nose.

A low hum and a trail of kisses along your jawline. You shivered when his lips reached a spot just below your ear and then smiled against your skin.

“Are you sure?” his husky voice was playful, but you knew he was double-checking.

“Try me.”

That moment was not about chasing the high. It was about feeling each other. Being with one another. As close as possible. That couldn’t wait, and neither could any of you, tugging at the clothes in random order with urgency.

Neil looped his arm around your shoulders, settling you on your side in his embrace. Keeping you steady. Safe. Close. And even though his kisses were desperate and leaving you winded, his touch was gentle, and you knew the blue eyes were watching you attentively, ready to react to the smallest sign of discomfort. But also to any encouragement to go further.

A hitched breath. A leg hooked on his hip. Fingers dragged across his back.

He was ready to give you everything and take whatever you were willing to offer. And you wanted to do the same for him until everything else lost its meaning and it was just you and him, and the fire that burned inside you. Searing every nerve. Cleansing the doubts. Numbing the pain. Lighting up the darkness. And, in the end, bringing resolution as you both came undone, moaning and gasping for air only to be comforted by hands cupping cheeks and yet another kiss. Slow. Tender. Full of admiration.

When Neil drew back and shifted slightly, you whined in protest, wrapping your leg around him tighter to keep him in place.

“Where are you going?”

A quiet chuckle, followed by a feeling of a soft blanket sliding over your naked body. And a kiss on the tip of your nose.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

You sighed with content as Neil pulled you closer again. The light stubble scratched your fingers as they studied the impossible angles of his face unhurriedly.

“Good.”

(next chapter ->)

#neil tenet #neil tenet x reader #neil x reader #neil tenet fanfiction #robert pattinson #tenet #tenet fanfiction #neil tenet imagine #long nights

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joshslater · 4 years ago

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Five Step Program

Similar stories and bonus material on my Patreon.

I stared at the contents of the envelope, a blue jockstrap, and a folded piece of paper. I hadn’t put much hope into this “miracle solution” to becoming a jock without any of the work. Of course there was a catch. “First 20 customers get their first shipment free of charge” was enough for me to fill out the form with my information. It wasn’t anything too revealing. Name, address, height, weight, age. A box where you could write what you hoped to achieve with this revolutionary five step program. That’s what they really were after, I guessed. Having people enter their dreams so that they can tailor their next scam better. I was even surprised I got anything in the mail at all, and now having opened it, it made even more sense.

I could see how sending a jockstrap to someone perhaps fulfills some legal requirement that the recipient could now look like a jock. It could be a way to avoid getting a federal fraud charge. But I hadn’t spent a dime on this, so it didn’t make any sense. The jockstrap looked like any other jockstrap, I guessed. I’d never owned one, nor worn one. The pouch was dark blue and made with two layers of some synthetic mesh material. The big waistband was light blue with the letters JOCK repeated in dark blue around it. There was a faint smell of synthetic material and detergent. I did a mental sigh and opened the folded letter.

Congratulation on becoming one of our first customers on the revolutionizing five step Jock Express program. As a thank you for signing up, this first part is totally free of charge. Should you wish to continue the program, as we are confident you will after having successfully completed the first session, simply use the URL at the bottom of this page to enter your credit card information and we’ll send you the next item as soon as the payment is confirmed. I’m happy to inform you that we can offer a reduced price for the entire program, should you chose to start it within five days. The price is only $100 for the next installment, and progressively higher as you advance in the program. There is no commitment to purchase so you can stop the program at any point. We’re confident you will want to complete all the five steps in the Jock Express program.

Fuck that! What morons sign up to this kind of shit?

Instructions: The Jock Express is the easiest and most user friendly fitness program ever developed. Simply drink a lot of water, put on the items included in each program step, as you normally would, and go to sleep.

I was even more confused. Why would that sway anyone to put out $100 for at best another piece of gym clothing? I put it all in my in-tray on my desk and let it slip from my mind. I had dinner, watched TV, answered some late emails and the usual Tuesday stuff. By bedtime I walked past my home office and had the sudden recollection that I had something waiting in the in-tray. Then I remembered what it was, and almost reluctantly decided to go ahead with wearing the damn thing. I was still convinced it was a scam, but was immensely curious to exactly how it would work. If nothing else I would get to feel what wearing a jockstrap feels like. I drank a glass of water, put on the jockstrap, and went to bed. The jockstrap was as comfortable as anything and I quickly went to sleep.

Apparently I slept through the first alarm, and jolted awake on hearing the more incessant buzz from the phone. I jumped out of bed and it wasn’t until halfway to the bathroom I realized I was naked. I wouldn’t say massive, as in cartoonish in any way, but my dick and balls were noticeably bigger than before. It took a few seconds for my still startled brain to put the pieces together. The jockstrap had disappeared and somehow affected the body. It hadn’t replaced any body parts, I could still recognize my dick, but it was for sure altered. Suddenly $100 felt like way too little money. I didn’t even put any pants on as I typed in the URL from the letter. Jock Express step #2 for $100 and express delivery for another $25. Annoyingly no option to order all four remaining steps as a package. I just wanted to have them all in my house as soon as possible.

By the time I had entered all my details, checked all the boxes, and clicked the final webshop button I was rocking a massive hard-on. The biggest one in my life so far, by far. I didn’t care right then if I would come late or call in sick, I just knew that I had to take my pre-cum leaking enhancement for a test drive, and slowly started to move my hand up and down the shaft. It felt better than ever, and lasted longer than I have ever before. I’m not really sure how long, because I zoned out a bit while wanking, and then exploded with an epic load of cum. I managed to tilt the chair back and catch it all on my body, but then I felt really spent and dozed off, only to be brought back with a text message from my boss. Sick day it is, I decided.

A more apt description would be a lewd day. I just cycled between laptop porn, wanking and showers, and combinations thereof. I loved the difference it made when wearing underwear. Even when flaccid you could tell here was action waiting, not just only wearing underwear, but while wearing jeans too. I took photos so I had progress photos to compare with.

The next day was a strange one. I worked all day in the glow of someone with confidence, as if somehow I had done some achievement. I kind of surprised myself with how much of a difference it made when dealing with the pileup of emails from yesterday. Big dick energy. I could make decisions so much faster than I was used to. I don’t know if I really had more confidence, or just didn’t care as much. I was for sure giddy with anticipation of what was yet to come by overnight delivery. I forced myself to stay until official end of office hours and then bolted and drove straight home.

Thank God there was a DHL box in my mailbox, or I don’t know what I would have done. I opened it on my way in, and it’s contents were similar to the first one. A folded letter and some folded cloth. Without opening the letter I unfolded the cloth, which turned out to be a plain, sleeveless, white cotton T-shirt. Had there been someone to high five, I would have done so. I’m not fat, but there is a bit of flabbiness I would love to get rid of, so I couldn’t wait for this part. I felt anticipation in my stomach and something else in my pants. I hadn’t had a wank since this morning.

Evening couldn’t come soon enough. The letter said basically the same as the last one. A new URL for the $400 Jock Express #3, which I immediately ordered, again with overnight shipping. Not really sure what to kill time with, I figured a jock would watch sport, so I just randomly put some football on. I hadn’t really paid any attention to sports before, so I wasn’t sure about who was who, what the series looked like, or really what happened on the field besides the obvious. I ended up masturbating to the football, which in my opinion made it better. By 9:30 I decided to drink a few glasses of water, strip, put on the sleeveless T-shirt, and go to bed. I tossed and turned in anticipation for quite a while. The T-shirt had a very loose fit, and the big holes for the arms made it even more mobile, though it was anchored by the crew neck. Finally at some point I managed to fall asleep.

I woke up before the alarm. It was dark enough that I knew I hadn’t slept through them all. Instead of getting up or turning on the light, I just slowly moved my hand to my chest under the sheet. My chest was about the same size, but felt firmer, I imagined. But more importantly I was naked and the shirt was gone. I moved my hand down and couldn’t contain my joy when I started to feel the faint square of abs. I jumped out of bed and ran into the bathroom to have a look in the mirror. The effect was better than I thought from just touch. My torso not only looked fit as a model, with abs and V and all, but younger and with better skin. Perhaps an illusion, but it almost looked like my dick was bigger as well.

Having woken up early, after a wank and a shower, I was one of the first in at the office and quickly got ahead on my tasks for the day. I still had the anticipation I felt yesterday, but today it was more like I knew what to expect. It wasn’t just a one-off or a fluke, this was legit and it was happening. As I started early I decided to flex out early and rush back home. I spent the drive home fantasizing about different types of clothing. I was kind of wishing for those sleeves they use in basket, to amp up my arms, but there might be some scientific reason why they changed the body parts in a specific order. Who was I kidding? This wasn’t science. This was magic.

I ripped open the familiar package as soon as I was inside the front door. This time it was white under armour legging of some sort, ending just below the knees. I was considering strip down fully naked and put on the leggings right then and there, and wear them until it was time to go to bed, but decided against it. Even though the descriptions were vague and didn’t really say you couldn’t do that, I didn’t want to risk fucking up the process. Instead I found some underwear in the same color as the jockstrap and took a pair of scissors to an old white T-shirt to make it look like the one I put on yesterday. Then I put on those, and nothing but, and sat myself in front of the TV, determined to actually try to follow the game this time, whichever game I happened to see.

It might be I imagined it, perhaps because I’ve never really seen myself in a sleeveless T-shirt before, but it looked to me like my arms were a bit more defined than yesterday. I realized that I had just assumed only the parts under the clothes are affected, but that’s just something I made up. It could be that it just primarily acts under the clothes, or perhaps it was just a coincidence and the clothes really could change anything. In the end I let it go. It didn’t matter, I couldn’t prove it either way, and I couldn’t watch a game, have deep thoughts and masturbate all at the same time anyway. I was so into it I almost forgot to order the next package. A steep $1000 for whatever the next item was, but so far it was fucking worth it.

I really liked how I looked in the 3/4 leggings or whatever the fuck they are called. Just imagining how much better I would look the morning after made me go to bed with a big boner, despite being thoroughly wanked. I tried to calm myself by thinking of the last game I watched, and not give Jock Express a thought, and it kind of worked. I know I fell asleep pretty quickly and dreamt of football until the alarm woke me up.

“Fuck yeah!” was the first I could think when I saw myself. The thighs were about as large as before, but the line going down them made it obvious they were muscles and not jiggle matter. It even felt different just standing. I’m almost positive my dick had grown even more. Who the hell wouldn’t dish out $400 or whatever for this shit?

While the day started great it quickly became frustrating with all the corporate bullshit. I knew how to do my job. There were just so many fucking rules in the way of doing it in the best way. Perhaps the anticipation of the second to last package made me be in a bad mood. Whatever. I bolted as soon as I could, cranked up the volume in the car, trying to not think of anything until I got home. I almost punched something when I opened the mailbox and didn’t find an envelope. Instead it was just a note about DHL attempted to deliver while I wasn’t home. I could either call them to deliver tomorrow or drive to a pickup point. Like fuck I would wait another full fucking day.

I was furious when I got back into the car, blasting music as loud as I could, but I quickly calmed down. Perhaps this was a good thing? It might be a box with shoulder pads from football or hockey or lacrosse or whatever the fuck else looks hot. You know what else is hot? Michael at the DHL pickup point. I mean, I’m not homo or anything, I’m just saying he was a good looking dude.

The packet he gave me was a bit disappointing though. No way it could contain anything as large as shoulder pads. I didn’t want to fuck with my mojo, so I kept the same routine as before and didn’t open it until back home. Fucking cleats and socks. Another fucking leg day. And they smelled bad too, like distilled vinegar or some shit. As I entered the URL from the letter on my phone I got two more shocks. The price of the last package was ten thousand fucking dollars! And even worse, the delivery wouldn’t arrive until Monday. Two fucking days away. “This is bullshit” I shouted at nobody and threw the empty cardboard box into the wall to no damage to either.

I was still furious and went straight to the fridge, pulled out a cold can of beer, opened it, and downed half of it. It felt better, but I was still upset on the world in general. I looked at the phone screen again. $10k is a fuckton of money. There wasn’t a rush to buy it right now either, if they didn’t do overnight delivery during weekends. I emptied the can and crushed it against the countertop. It hurt my hand, which just added to my anger for being such a weakling. I pulled the rest of the six-pack out of the fridge and threw it in the living room couch on my way to the bedroom. I needed to get out of these stuffy office clothes and cool down with a cold one, or four.

I ripped off the tie and started to unbutton the shirt on my way into the bedroom, and once there opened the door to my wardrobe. I felt like a girl, not knowing what to wear. I hated everything my eyes fell on, and I hated feeling like that. I bunched the shirt into a ball and threw it into a corner, together with the tie. I climbed out of the pants as quickly as I could and threw them there as well. Then I stopped myself.

Everything I saw I really liked, I realized. The pecs, the abs, the thighs, and the generous bulge in the boxer briefs.I yanked off my socks and more deliberately lowered my boxers to let the dick and balls loose. I knew what I wanted from this junk selection of clothes, and opened a drawer with my athletic clothes and pulled out a pair of grey sweatpants. It was Friday and my dick and balls deserved some freedom, I thought, as I put on the sweats without any underwear. I picked up the sleeveless T-shirt from the floor by the bed and put that on as well. I felt so much better. A few beers, whatever game was on, and some more wanking, and perhaps this could turn into a good evening after all.

After two more beers, cum stains on sweatpants, T-shirt and the couch, and fuck knows how many games I zapped through I couldn’t wait any longer. Whatever bullshit the cleats and sock did, the sooner it was over with, the sooner I could move on with the final package. $10k was still a lot, but if I sold all shares I could buy it, keeping both house and car.

The socks went almost up to the knees, but weren’t any real soccer socks or anything like that. The looked more like something someone might have to the gym, or something a skater would wear. Skater was perhaps right, because they smelled like that vinegary acidic smell of really sweaty skater shoes. The socks were white with a wide black band around it near the top, and were a bit off-white on contact surfaces around the foot, as if they had been used in black shoes by someone. As if I would fucking care. I pulled up both legs of the sweats over the knees and put on both socks, pulling them as high as possible. The cleats were black and a bit banged up, but fit perfectly on my feet. I didn’t even remember having given out my shoe size. I was unsure how tight to tie them, so I went with comfortable without being loose.

It felt weird walking with them, like the shoes were pushing your forward. Not at all like my much flatter leather shoes. Somehow my test walking ended up by the fridge, so I grabbed another six-pack and returned to the couch for some more ESPN or whatever.

I had no idea what sport it was on the screen, but glancing out the window I could see that it wasn’t evening anymore. I must have fallen asleep, I realized, but I felt way better than I ought to, given the pile of crushed beer cans around me. I walked to the toilet to have a piss, and it wasn’t until I lowered the front of my sweatpants to grab my morning semi-stiff snake I realized I was barefoot. I was pissing for probably a good minute, aiming down with one hand. Holy fuck so much I’ve kept in while sleeping. I was pretty sure I had cleats and socks on when I fell asleep. I did a few bounces on the balls of the feet. It felt fucking great, and shook loose the last drops of piss from my dick. I dropped it back into the sweatpants, and broke into a smile from how fucking huge of a tent it made, despite being just a semi. I did a few more jumps, looking at how the flagpole in my front swung up and down. I really didn’t deserve to feel this great after yesterday, but I’d fucking take it. I felt so full of energy I felt I could do anything. I wanted to run just to see how it would feel.

I dashed into my bedroom and emptied the rest of the athletic clothes drawer on the floor. Some T-shirts, a pair of basket shorts, white socks and wiped down indoor and outdoor shoes. All of it was underwhelming, outright disappointing. And why the fuck did I keep the shoes here and not by the door? I grabbed the outdoor shoes and without bothering with socks started to mash my foot into it. It was clearly at least one size too small, perhaps several. Who the fucks know how shoe sizes work. I threw both shoes into the wall above my pile of office clothes. Fucking hell. Why do all days start out great and then go downhill so fast, I wondered.

I grabbed a pair of flip flops, the car keys, and pulled the credit card out of the wallet and walked out to the car. The car stereo startled me when I turned the ignition key, as it blared out some hip hop at max volume. I reached to turn it down, but changed my mind. It felt like my mood, as I was driving to my closest mall almost below speed limit. There wasn’t much traffic out anyway on a Saturday morning. As I turned into the almost empty parking lot in front of the mall I realized the fucking God damn shit mall would open for another 40-something fucking minutes. I wished I could turn up the music louder.

As I looked down on the cum stains on my shirt and tenting sweats I decided why the fuck not, and started to beat off in sync with the music.

40-something fucking minutes later I entered the sporting goods store in the mall. Johnson’s or Dick’s or Willy’s or whatever, I don’t care. I picked up some proper compression clothes, like the leggings I had earlier with a matching top. I got myself some outdoor Nike’s, a few proper tanks, some jocks, boxer shorts and socks, new flip flops, and a snapback cap. On the way to the cashier I decided to pick up a wooden baseball bat and a regulation size football as well. Back in the car I ripped off all the stickers and shit and put on something I could run in. The sneakers, jockstrap and shorts, a tank top, and the snapback. I left the car and just ran.

It was a revelation. The first time I tasted ice cream or coca cola, or the first time I discovered I could do something else with my dick besides peeing and hitting it too hard. I felt like a good damn terminator. Like as long as I kept the pace below sprinting I could run for hours. Trickles of sweat running down my face, my arms, my back, wetting the fabric of my clothes where it could, cooling the skin with the breeze my motion generated where it couldn’t. I have no fucking idea how long I actually run. When I finally ended up back in the car I was steaming and real fucking hungry.

I felt like a shower was in order, but I was too hungry to do that first. I went by Five Guys and had a bacon cheeseburger with fries and a peanut butter milkshake. As I started eating I realized I wasn’t anywhere near tired. It was probably enough running for today, but I wanted to do more. Halfway through the meal I decided I would visit the gym we had a company membership at. I had only been there a few times since the introduction walkthrough. I wasn’t even sure I had the card in my wallet anymore, or if it was in the bowl of stuff in the kitchen.

I made a quick stop at home, unloaded my car, found the card, and set off to the Pacific Wellness Center. The dude in the lobby had a pissy attitude and asked me if I was wearing indoor shoes. I asked him what they looked like, and he let me in. Such a shame, because he was kind of good looking.

Inside the gym the results were mixed. Squats, lunges, planking, and abductor machine all went excellent. It was fun, even. But everything involving arms went miserably. I could only lift a pathetic load, and after a few reps I would be tired. I even embarrassed myself in front of two massive gym buddies. One of them had amazing arms. You could see how strong they were even when he wasn’t lifting, but fuck me what beautiful ‘ceps when loaded. And tanned too. It was lucky I had the jockstrap on, because that body was smoking hot.

I could only stand a few more failures after that and then sped back home, still with hip hop at max, in a mix of emotions. I got naked on the way to the bathroom, and there I spent perhaps an hour in the shower, getting the grime and sweat off me, and wanking twice, thinking of the arms of the hot dude. As I dried myself on a towel I knew I had to buy the last package. Ten fucking thousand fucking dollars. I had to use the laptop to access my bank, and once I had put in the sell order for my stock portfolio I saw the pornhub tabs I hadn’t looked at since Wednesday.

The big-busted bimbos I had wanked my way through the Wednesday suddenly didn’t seem as interesting. I clicked around a bit until I found a muscle stud fucking a Latino girl. How quickly the taste can change, but except for pathetic arms, I’m was now the muscle stud. I quickly entered the URL from the Jock Express #4 box and ordered the last package. The delivery date was still Monday, so come Tuesday the muscle stud would be me. Only one fucking week.

Since I was out of beer I threw on my old shorts and a T-shirt, and had a walk to my nearest convenience store and bought one six-pack for each hand. I was feeling a bit stiff from the training, but it was much better than it ought to be.

As I opened the door back at home the warm smell of gym clothes, sweat, and feet hit me. I did the responsible thing and threw everything in the washing machine, opened a beer, and started to watch whatever was on.

Sunday was just a boring-ass filler day. I woke up at a decent time, had a long run. I passed through the park, but didn’t engage with any of the groups playing football or beach volley there. I could wait two more days to get my arms sorted. I did some cleaning up and domestic shit back home. Then I went to the gym again, but this time I pretended it was leg day, so I didn’t have to embarrass myself. After dinner I had an evening jog as well, and only had a few beers before bedtime.

Same thing on Monday. Woke up pretty early and went for a long run. When I was almost back home I got a text message from my boss, saying we needed to talk about my performance over the last few days. My answer “Suck my balls” probably summed up the conversation much better than any in-person meeting. I found that the best way to find porn with muscle studs in them was to search in the gay section. Just because you like to watch big arms and strong backs doesn’t make you homo. I jacked off to the videos until it was time to eat lunch. By 2 pm I was climbing on the fucking walls in anticipation, and every minute felt like too long. Perhaps it wouldn’t arrive today at all? I heard the mailman at 2:18 and rushed out wearing only shorts and snapback.

The mailbox was stuffed full with a big, soft envelope. I tore it open on my way back inside, kicked the door shut, and emptied the contents on my kitchen table. A big black something fell out, as well as something small that rattled across the table. Ignoring the letters, as usual, I unfolded the cloth. It was a big, black hoodie in sweatshirt material, with the print “STRONG” on the front. Finally arms! I picked up the small plastic box that almost fell off the table and opened it. It contained some sort of advanced mouthguard mad in blue, white, and transparent plastic of different hardness and flex. The kind that football players use.

Not knowing what to do next, I went to the gym and spent a few hours just randomly doing low weight, high rep stuff. I was trying to catch a glimpse of everyone else who worked out to see what their arms and legs looked like. Once I felt it was too obvious I wasn’t doing anything serious I drove home, but instead of going inside I started to walk and walked for hours just looking. It felt good just to be in motion. I didn’t return back until the sun started to set, and it was almost fully dark when I walked through the door.

I decided to just go ahead with the last piece of transformation. I stepped out of my sneakers and pulled off my damp socks. It didn’t smell of strawberries. I pulled off the T-shirt and stepped out of the basket shorts, but kept the compression shorts on. I grabbed the hoodie from the table and put it over my head. Perhaps it was me, but it smelled of musky sweat inside while I put it on. I poured myself a big glass of water and downed it.

I walked with the small plastic box to the bathroom and had a look in the mirror. I didn’t really look that different. The big hoodie hid my newly athletic front. The legs and feet looked strong, but who ever notices that? My big bulge in the compression pants was however a change from the past week that couldn’t easily be hidden. I opened the box and put the mouthguard into my mouth. It fit snugly and didn’t change my appearance much either. Not knowing what to do with the hoodie I put it up over my head and pulled it tighter with the drawstrings so all but my face was gone. Then I turned off all the lights and went to bed.

It was still dark when I woke up. Instantly I knew it had worked, because I couldn’t feel the mouthguard in my mouth, though it felt different. As if the ghost of the mouthguard was still there, prying my mouth open. I felt some sort of pressure on my head, as if I was wearing a hat or a beanie or something. I was about to feel my head when I realized moving my arm felt different. Not wanting to fuck around any longer I went straight to the bathroom again to have a look in the mirror. I stared at my reflection with open mouth. The difference was breathtaking.

First of all I wasn’t wearing any top, so my abs and pecs were on full display, but they were also bigger than before. Everything was bigger. My shoulders were much bigger, my entire upper body looked wider than before, and everything about the arms were huge. My face was still my face, but there were lots of small changes. “Fucking dope” I said with a much deeper voice than what I had before. I smiled a smirk and flexed the arms in different poses. I couldn't wait to show up at the gym doing an arm day. I just needed to have another shower. My dick needed service, and I felt sluggish, as if I hadn't really wakened up yet.

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ourstarscollided · 4 years ago

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jatp fanworks appreciation - day 3 (wips)

wip wednesday - I didn’t think I wanted to join in on this day for my own stuff considering I’ve never posted anything original for this fandom, but I think this might just be the little boost I need from myself to actually finish the wips that I have sitting around. I am peer pressuring myself and holding myself accountable by posting this - or at least that’s what I’m telling myself. Most of the past 6 mths has just been me screaming to no one in a Google Doc, so here are some things I’ve been ruminating about over the last 6 months (and if my secret agenda is to get other people to write about it so I don’t have to? Then that’s between you and me).

Everything’s under a read more because I like giving context and that usually spirals out of control!?!?

If you would like to see more from any of the below, feel free to shoot me an ask/message and I can definitely share some more! (Or you can just come yell at me about JATP in general.)

Strangers Fake Dating AU // Julie x Luke

I’m a simple person. I see a prompt, I latch onto it, and then I completely miss the entire point of the prompt as my imagination goes wild for no real reason. This really was supposed to be a super short drabble, but it manifested into a 3k+ thing that isn’t even finished.

Julie’s not really sure what she’s supposed to do now. Nothing has ever prepared her for a situation in which she’s supposed to pretend to be a stranger’s girlfriend, especially if that situation involves parents. Does she continue this ruse? Can she come up with a quick enough excuse to tell this Luke character that she actually can’t stay? What if this is just all an elaborate plan to kidnap her? Has she been listening to too many true crime podcasts? Why does Luke smell so good? Does he know how to cook? Why does his shirt not have sleeves? What-

“I can hear you thinking from here.” Her head whips up at the sound of Luke’s voice, which is now at a whisper and kind of frantic. “I just- I just really needed to get my mom off my back, so I kinda need you to pretend to be my girlfriend. Just for the night. I swear I’ll make it up to you somehow.”

Julie studies Luke’s face and it’s nearly impossible to not cave under his gaze, which can only be simply described as ‘puppy dog eyes’. She finds herself smiling back, letting out a huff, “I hope you like lasagna.” And the grin that spreads across the boy’s face is enough for her to know that he’s incredibly relieved that she agreed.

“I’m Luke by the way. Luke Patterson.”

(Okay, he’s kinda cute. And no one this cute is a serial killer. Right?)

She gives a small smile back, “I’m Julie.”

5+1 alive!Juke AU // Julie x Luke

Inspired by paper - LANY

This is one of the first things I ever felt the urge to write down back in September because I love exploring the idea of how two people can appear to be the perfect relationship on the outside, but are actually fighting their own demons. Especially when it comes to celebrities and people who are in the spotlight. It’s basically a 5+1 fic about the moments from other people’s perspectives who happen to orbit around Julie/Luke that all revolve around paper. My outline for this is so long because I can’t manage to narrow it down, and there’s zero cohesiveness but I do have little things jotted down.

“Hey little man,” Luke’s knelt down to match his 5 year-old height, and a hand extends out to him for a high five, “What are you doing here?”

His eyes flicker to the left, towards his own apartment door, where his mom is giving him an encouraging nod. “ I- I just wanted to-” he stutters and finds himself looking at his feet as he shuffles back and forth on the spot. “I- I drew you guys something!”

He shoves the paper out towards the older boy in front of him, but doesn’t look up.

Reincarnation AU // Julie x Luke

I had a random thought in December about how magical it is that Julie and Luke are so tied to one another that their love transcends time and space, which will always lead them back to one another. I remember reading a book a long time ago about how the main character is fated to die at a certain age, and that kind of sparked this little idea. I can’t bring myself to actually plot out every single timeline right now, but I did manage to write a little bit.

It will never be as complex as Rosie’s idea and all the wonderful additions in the link here, and I don’t really plan on it being anything more than a small idea. But I really do still think someone should write some sort of reincarnation AU cause I’d hop on that so fast!!

“Okay- that’s not- Luke. You seriously just ran away?”

“What was I supposed to do Alex? We all know how this ends.”

His friend looks at him, face painted in understanding and he sighs, “Yeah. Yeah, we do.”

Because it’s true, Alex does know, so does Reggie and Bobby. Most importantly, so does Luke. It’s the exact same tragic love story every time.

Call it a curse or fate or destiny. Maybe it’s because Mercury is in retrograde. Whatever. It always ends the same way - with a heartbreaking goodbye, a whisper of the promise that they’ll find each other again, and the possibility of a happy ending. He’s said the same goodbye at least 734 times, but it’s not like he’s counting or anything. Fuck the universe and its mystical ways.

Competitive Alex // Alex x Willie

No real thoughts or reasons for this other than I just think I self-projected my need to play board games with people in real life into a fic. And maybe a little bit of my competitiveness onto Alex and then threw in Willie because I think he would be able to handle it while also finding it endearing. I also have written nothing about the actual competitiveness, it’s just 2k words of Alex crushing on Willie.

“Wait,” his eyes dart between the three boys, “You both know Willie? How come I’ve never met him?”

His roommates look at each other, and there’s a smirk on Luke’s face when he says, “Actually Alex, I think you have. Remember that time you got really drunk after one of our shows?”

Oh no. He really hopes that it’s not the time he’s thinking of, so he tries to sound nonchalant. “You’re going to have to be more specific, Luke.”

“The night we played at that tiny bar at the edge of the campus! We got paid in those tiny colourful shots?” He doesn’t really know where Luke is going with this, so he’s slowly nodding along. “And you were super upset that the hot dog vendor at the end of the street was closed?”

Dear Julie, Love Mom series

I made myself sad with this thought when I first watched the show and was talking to my friend about how I think that Rose would’ve left messages for the Molina family, especially when we found out that Wake Up was actually from her mom. I wrote a bigger explanation for it here.

Anyways, I started with the one for Julie’s wedding and it kind of became an 8k monster with three different POVs?!? As much as I love how I wrote this, I feel too unsure about my writing to share it in full, so you will get carefully selected looks alkfe. (I’m also kind of stuck on some of the more emotional scenes and I may or may not have procrastinated by photoshopping a moodboard for it.)

Excerpt 1 (Julie POV): A look into where I’m going with this whole letters from Rose thing.

The key clicks into place, and with a turn, the latch falls open. She’s not sure what she wants to find in the box, and she’s too scared to think about it really. All she knows is that this was the sign from her mom that she was waiting for all week, and in true Rose fashion, her mom had managed to give it to her, even if at the last second. Her dad turns the box to face Julie, and gestures to her to open up the lid.

Tucked inside is a VHS tape, the words ‘For Julie, on your wedding day’ written in her mom’s cursive on the cover. Some loose glitter and confetti fall back into the box as she reaches in to pick up the tape and turn it over in her hands. There’s a little purple butterfly etched on the back, the same one that’s been drawn on all the other messages that her mom had left her. Her finger automatically finds its way, tracing the shape of the small doodle.

“Do you want me to leave you alone, mija?”

Excerpt 2 (Julie POV): This part has absolutely nothing to do with the main plot of the story, but it self-inserted itself into this fic after @tangledstarlight and I talked about You’re Still the One by Shania Twain being their first dance. This whole scene came to me at 4am one night and might be the most self-indulgent thing I’ve ever written.

They knew that when they had asked Reggie to be in charge of the first dance performance, that they (and Alex) weren’t allowed to veto any of his ideas. Luke had warned Julie that that would be a mistake, but the giddiness that radiated off of Reggie when she had told him he could have free reign was worth it. She just hadn’t thought that he would actually take it to heart and run with it.

Sure, they had chosen You’re Still the One by Shania Twain as their first dance song, and sure it was more or less a country song, but she didn’t really imagine that she’d be staring at her adoptive brother, Carlos and her Dad wearing cowboy hats and boots at her wedding. They had somehow managed to ditch their Flynn-approved suit jackets and were sporting a taupe-coloured suede-textured vest over their dress shirts. If she looked closely, she could see that they had somehow also found some gaudy looking bolo ties with a matching set of ornamental clasps to wear. When she envisioned her wedding, she really didn’t expect that her first (public) dance as a married couple would be a full-on Western themed occasion. The only exception was Alex, who had settled on his cajon in the back, still in his pink suit, eyes rolling when she met his gaze. But even she knew how there was no real annoyance in the blonde’s reaction or else he wouldn’t also be wearing one of the tacky ties around his neck as well.

“I’m gonna seriously kill him.” She hears Luke grumble under his breath, only low enough for her to hear. But she’s still too busy giggling to actually be mad, and she knows that Luke isn’t really going to kill Reggie. At least she doesn’t think so.

Excerpt 3 (Luke POV): Idk man. My mind went “What about Luke?” and I said “You’re right!! What about him?!?”

He doesn’t realize that he’s just been silently staring at the woman in front of him, until a gentle voice breaks him out of his thoughts. “Why are you looking at me like that?” Julie’s peering at him from under her eyelashes, a curious look on her face.

“You just-” he gives a little shake of his head, trying to come up with the right words. He wants to tell her she’s beautiful. Stunning. A wicked beauty. But she’s more than that - she’s almost angelic. “I can’t believe you’re my wife.”

“Luke, we’ve been legally married for like, a whole year.” Her lips are quirked up in a grin, amusement in her voice. “You’ve only just realized that now?”

“That’s different.”

“Yeah? Different how?”

This feels a little strange to post and a little like my inner self seeking validation but let’s not talk about that.

Kskssj anyways present me @ future me: finish one of these because writing has been really cathartic for you and you didn’t think it would bring you so much joy!!!

#gotta tag this so that it doesnt ever show up in any tags on tumblr.#i like that what got me to post about my writing was a fanworks appreciation week. but i will say that a couple weeks ago when i was feeling #extra good about my writing. i made a promise to myself to post smthg for the 6 mth mark of jatp and that kinda got backtracked because of #my requirements to be an adult and my general insecurities about putting out content that is mine for the works to judge sjsjsj #so this is me making it up to myself by sharing some things.#thank you rosie for indulging me in my ramblings. you’ve really given me confidence in my work even tho you’ve never read anything of mine.#just know I APPRECIATE YOU A LOT!!!!#i hope you dont mind that i tagged you!!!#anyways this is gonna get thrown into my queue for wednesday and whenever it posts is whenever it will post.#i also typed this on my phone (i DO NOT RECOMMEND IT) so sorry if the formatting is janky. i didnt wanna give myself time to second guess #myself and end up not posting it. sjjs #jatp fanworks appreciation week #sometimes i write #personal #<- need to come up with tags for myself welp #sunset queue

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chaoticspacefam · 4 years ago

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Elven Rambles About Character Builds

So! As we know, SWTOR’s body types (especially for the women) are sorely lacking in proper variety in-game. It’s something that’s always bothered me, and I have specific images in my head for how I imagine each of my main girls to look in terms of their figure. But the problem is, for all of them, none of the in-game body presets that are available come close to their actual builds, I’ve just had to settle for “eh, I guess this is as close as I’m gonna get, whatever”

I’m putting the rest under a cut because it gets quite long, I do talk a little bit about the slavery plot point of the Inquisitor storyline so that’s something to be aware of before proceeding, but it’s mostly just a lot of me rambling about my dumb space children so be prepared for a lot of reading, I guess (there’s pictures too tho!) haha

Aria is certainly the “worst” for this, because while she has a “baby” face, her torso is a lot chunkier, and most importantly, she’s short, ya girl’s 5 ft 1 for God’s sakes! I don’t know if it’s just my eyes, but to me, BT2 looks the “shortest”, so even though BT4 is probably the “closest” I can get in game to her overall structure, it’s too tall for her. So, I’ve ended up having to “settle” for BT2 even though it makes her look way too slender, really. (honest to God, can we have someone on character design that doesn’t insist on every woman having a perfect hourglass figure because “they have to be that way or they’re not attractive”, PLEASE Bioware! Bigger, round or square, or pear-shaped or whatever, ladies, can still be beautiful too!)

And let’s not mention that there’s such a vast difference in all the different male body type options (look at male BT2 and male BT3 for instance) And yet for the ladies, the differences are so subtle that I honestly have to squint to see them (and yes, I have kinda crappy eyesight but it should be more easily noticeable, if you can do it for the men you can do it for the women, you fucking cowards) because that’s a whole other rant. ANYWAY

SO, Ela shared the link to this site in our wonderful SWTOR content creator discord that I’m resident in and of course my brain went “wait a minute, I can use this”

So I did. It’s certainly not perfect but it’s good enough to give a much closer representation of how I imagine their builds/shapes to look. As mentioned I have a general idea of how I want them to be shaped in my head, but it helps to have a visual reminder when I’m trying to draw them, so now I have been making these silhouettes to add to their (new) ref sheets when I get round to em

This is more along the lines of how I imagine Ari to look. She’s smol, and very square-shaped, with a fair bit of fat on her lower half especially (it all goes to her hips, I feel ya girl XD) So, I reiterate again, BT4 would be “correct” enough in terms of the pudge and the general shape, but it’s way too tall-looking in all the cutscenes I tried it in. So, BT2 was what I “settled” with, but this is the sort of build she should have.

and then in-game, Vano, Ni’kasi & Saarai are all BT3, because it’s the only “tall” option, but there’s a big problem with this because as the only option, it means your character has to be “tall and perfectly hourglass” which is....not the case really for any of them. There’s literally no options to have a “tall/big” lady but also have a different build or muscle structure and it frustrates me to no end, because even though they’re very close in height, their body types couldn’t be more different.

Exhibit A, the twins, put side-by-side to really show the difference between them:

Saarai is a 6 ft 3 wall of pure muscle, she’s a literal tank & even though she’s fit, she’s very “broad” in stance & stature, she does have a sort of hourglass dip on her hips but it’s very subtle because she’s just that muscly (thanks dad, she’s definitely your kid pfpfpfpf) Ni’kasi, on the other hand? She’s only 6ft, she took more after mom than dad height-wise, and there’s no way for me to show it easily on this silhouette (I’m working on other stuff & don’t have time to make an edit in Sketchbook just for this post), but she actually did get Kissai’s broad shoulders...the problem is, that unlike Saarai, Ni’kasi hasn’t had a steady, healthy diet after she got turfed down the social ladder into the slave pits. Poor diet (and a shortage of enough food, too, they had to keep her in line & stop her escaping somehow, obvious solution: “make sure she’s too weak to even think about it”) means she’s a lot skinnier and more “twiggy” than her twin. She’s not grossly underweight anymore, obviously the Overseers and Zash had to make sure she was fed up properly to gain enough strength to be able to train & then run around the galaxy killing things at Zash’s bidding, BUT because of the malnourishment she suffered at that point in her life, she’s never going to get as much muscle as Saarai did and even though she’s a healthier weight now, she’s still slender. She has more of an hourglass than her twin, but her hips are much narrower than her shoulders, so it’s not as prominent (and even this silhouette has too much of an hourglass for her as is, but as I mentioned earlier, don’t have time to make the edit myself rn, will do it later XD)

And finally, Exhibit B, Vano:

Now, I would argue Vano would be the closest of the three to being pretty much BT3. But note “the closest”, not “exact”. Why? Vano’s 6 ft 2, so she’s only an inch shorter than Rai, but their builds are very different. Saarai’s a beefcake, but Vano’s a Mirialan, so she’s got muscle, but she’s lean and tall. Vano here is about 80% or so legs and 20% the rest of her body, she’s got legs for daaayss and that’s what gives her the height, but apart from a six pack, you won’t actually see most of her muscle, whereas Saarai could flex with her guns out and you’d totally notice.

This got very long, so if you made it all the way to the end of this post of me blabbing about how I wish the body types had more variety & why I want that for my girls, I appreciate you very much, have a cookie! 🍪 🍪 🍪 🍪 🍪 < take one and pass it on as they say ;) hahaha

#swtor #long post #elven's swtor headcanons #elven's character references #< a new tag for later that'll have all their refs in once i've made them. plus i want to be able to find this later when i need it lol #i don't think this warrants a ''critical'' tag necessarily bc it's mostly just me babbling about the girl's builds/muscle structures etc.#there's a *teeny* bit of criticising but anyone who's played the game by now should've noticed & i don't think it's unfair to point it out #tw: slavery mention #(canon-typical inquisitor storyline but ya know)#i'm on the fence abt whether to add these silhouettes to the bio page in the pinned post #it'd mean i have to make them for the others on there which i don't have time to do rn #i've only done the four mains so i could talk about it with the visuals in this post #but maybe when i have time i will :D #swtor oc: vano shenly #swtor oc: aria saal #swtor oc: saarai ahaszaai #swtor oc: ni'kasi ahaszaai #the ahaszaai twins

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lunavadash-creates · 3 years ago

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Drunk Olivia was your first frabble about her! How could you forget about it! It was so short, but so adorable at the same time! But! I was thinking.. How do Olivia, Amara and Mira look? I know more or less, but can you give more details? The more details, the better. It is for science, ofc.

It is not that I don’t like Haytham. I just have mixed emotions about him which makes me more neutral. I am not too excited for him, something is lacking in his character. I don’t know what. The same goes for Arno and Eivor. Maybe because I feel there is a lot of more potential and game developers didn’t do anything more about it.

Buuuut, your latest headcanons. Woooah Babes! They were REALLY imaginative. Connor - I couldn’t imagine different headcanons for him. Edward? After second thought - you are totally right. I can imagine it all. Let’s be honest. THOSE TATTOOS. I live for them. Summing up, we all need shirtless Edward on a daily basis. I am not sure about Shay and Haytham, maybe because I haven’t really thought about it before. They have such a cold aura around themselves, but maybe it’s just me. But on the other side.. Don’t judge a book by it’s cover! Shay is really, really handsome and your smut with him as the main character left some fantasies and imagines. Him being possessive is on point tho. Kinky Haytham? Interesting..

I would love to play Genshin. I really do. But.. After all these years I finally bought The Witcher games. All of them. And well.. Yes, that’s it. I bought them. That’s all. I have no courage to tell my friends about the purchase because they would literally force me to play lol. I loved the books! And since I read them before watching the Netflix series I am quite disappointed. But I am watching to see Eskel. Please, give me my man already. T_T

Thank heavens that you tolerate tattoos on others. I can sleep peacefully knowing that you won’t judge me and think lower of me. My granny didn’t speak to me for a few days because I did it. I am kinda nervous about what she will do after she sees my second one.. It will definitely be more visible.

Have I ever told you that I HATE rain and wind combined together. Because I hate with all my heart. The weather outside is tragic right now. I have no idea how I will make it to the vet tomorrow.

I have some music recommendations!

First of all, have you heard AURORA’s version of Rasputin? Gods, I love it so much!

Also:

Manchester Orchestra - The Silence

Paloma Faith - Only Love Can Hurt Like This

Lola Marsh - She’s a rainbow (and every other song by them. I love this band with all my heart)

Ghost - Enter Sandman

🔪

AAaaaa, you can laugh but I really don't remember! I even scrolled through my Tumblr and found nothing. I remember writing about Amara. Anyway, you see? Brain worms 😂

As for how they look... Olivia is a ginger, Irish girl. She has average height, a few dots on her nose, rosy cheeks and laughs a lot! She is a happy girl, full of love in her heart, loving nice, fluffy, soft and warm things. Amara is half English, half Arab so she is mixed race. She has darker skin in a similar shade to Altair (he is also mixed after all. I think his mother was also English). She has long black hair, green eyes. She usually wears male clothes. Mira has hair in a shade of a chestnut so it's brown but under the sun it looks golden. She has a typical Slavic look. She is pear-shaped and has bigger breasts and hips, her legs are a bit shorter than those of English women, she has a round face and always wears long braids, sometimes with flowers in them. I get your feeling about Haytham and the rest. Tbh I have mixed feelings about Arno because I hate Elise and I think he deserved so much better. I'm just sad the world kick his ass that hard. Well, you can always get Genshin because it's free! BUt I want to know your opinions of Witcher 1 & 2! Especially 2 and the choice you will make! I'm curious about it! Also, I love my man Zoltan. I love how dwarves swear all the time, they make me laugh so much! I'm sorry about your Granny ;; I hope she will accept your choices because tattoos look amazing. I mean on others. Not on me 😂 And seriously I love tattoos on others, sometimes I even try to gather courage and compliment people on them (I'm a shy bean but sometimes a tattoo is so amazing that I go to strangers only to tell them how epic they look like). I'm sure you will look amazing, incredible and beautiful. Rain and wind? That's a big no no! I hate that! I hate getting wet like that. I hate wind. I hate cold. But I love my blanket ;; Thank you for the music recommendations! I'll listen to the mand tell you what i think 💜 Stay safe and warm KNifey!

#knifey #knifey my beloved #ask

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dontrollthedicesideblog · 4 years ago

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if you dont mind me asking, why do people ship spifey and tapL? it seems cute and all, but are there some interactions or collabs ive missed because i dont know how the ship actually started ( or maybe just, why do you ship it?)

oh dear anon, you have no idea what kind of pandoras box youve just unleashed on the world. and ofc i dont mind you asking! ive wanted to talk about this for a while <3

if u wanna hear my spifL ramblings, click read more bc i dont wanna clog up everyones feeds:

1. starting off with the thing that got me interested at first: roommates. Spifey, TapL, and Skeppy were roommates for like three months in LA from I think December to February? Or January to March. It’s not a secret that a lot of people love the dynamic of roommates in ships, and it so happened that skephalo has always been super popular, leaving Spifey and TapL as the obvious roommates to ship.

2. height difference. My numbers may be wrong but apparently Spifey’s like 6′2 and TapL’s like 5′6? I’m sure those aren’t the accurate numbers, but it’s pretty clear there’s a big height difference between them and I just thought it was kinda cute!

2.5. On that note, the general size difference between them. This is most apparent when you look at their hands. I’m not gonna go out and actively look for them for this post bc that feels a lil weird to me, but Spifey’s done a handcam for a video and TapL’s shown his hands both on Twitter when he shows off his nails and on YouTube in his 100 burgers video. I wouldn’t call TapL’s hands small by any means, but I’d say it’s clear Spifey’s hands are bigger than his. And like, one of the staples of fandom is smaller person and Tall Person.

3. Then you get into the kind of content they make. Spifey’s main content is using mods and other packs to confuse the hell out of his friends. TapL’s main content is hosting different UHC scenarios. While they don’t seem similar on the surface at all, both are the kind of content creators that need to keep innovating for their stuff to land to an audience, the kind whose creativity is vital to the success of their channels. I’m aware that the creativity aspect applies to other creators as well, but this only plays a small part in why I ship it. They’re both immensely creative people who I think would benefit from hanging around each other and feeding each others’ creativity.

4. They have a lot of history, though not too much is really public since TapL doesn’t do collabs with people outside the PvP sphere very often. They both appear in Skeppy’s 2018 vidcon vlog, so they had to have known each other for at least two years. But they seem close in the video, so tack on another half a year or so and they’ve been friends for a long time.

5. And their dynamic. The ship has a softer, quieter sort of dynamic than a lot of the Big Ships. TapL and Spifey are both on the quieter side of their friend groups (though I hesitate to say they’re quiet because really, they’re not) and tend to be more quietly chaotic than they are overtly (see: all of Spifey’s videos with Zelk and Vurb in them and that one time TapL leashed a fox on the Idots SMP and called it Fundy and actually treated it well compared to how the Idots treated their pets in the game). I think that makes for a really interesting dynamic where they both know how to have fun and laugh with each other, but they also have just as many moments of quiet between them where they’re just enjoying each others’ company. It’s the sort of dynamic where they can either join the chaos others are creating (and their friend group certainly creates a whole lot of chaos) or they can sit back and watch them fight while snickering to each other. Variety of possibilities!

5.5. That being said, TapL is definitely the more loudly chaotic and confrontational of the two of them. Spifey laughs a lot while being chaotic and he doesn’t usually raise his voice unless he needs to. On the other hand, TapL COMMITS to the bit and is quicker to yell (see: that one time Zelk tried to make ZapL a thing). I just think the dynamic of one (1) man trying to rein in his stupid boyfriend’s chaos while still remaining generally supportive is a funny one to imagine.

5.75. As another note on their dynamic, TapL is one to catch onto the bit very quickly while adding his own flavor of humor to the whole situation, and Spifey’s the one to create the bit in the first place. Those sorts of personalities mesh well together. You can’t have a bit if there’s no one to escalate it, and you can’t escalate a bit if there’s no bit to escalate in the first place. (see: that one stream where Spifey started eating a banana sideways and TapL saw him so he decided to take a banana and eat it sideways. Additionally, their collab on Spifey’s channel)

6. this is really stupid but they both also have nicknames? Like, people call TapL Harv and they call Spifey Geo and i just thought that was pretty neat.

7. They’re literally so supportive of each other and it’s so clear they respect each other so much and they’re such great friends i just... ANONNNNNN IVE SPENT TWO HOURS ON THIS POST I JUST LOVE THEM SO MUCH ;-; heres some interactions to make up for my lack of words

“BRITISH PEOPLE ARE NOT REAL” “3 months in la - i was merely an illusion” “You were nothing more than a bunch of mirrors and reflections”

“hey, thanks for existing ❤️“ “anytime ❤️ i miss la”

[picture of a spider on Spifey’s face] “UK spiders be like: “Roight, wots ol this then ?”

“@spifeyy happy birthday 🎉🎉🎉“ “<3″ (i would also like to note that TapL posted the birthday tweet just a bit after it hit midnight BST, not in his time zone)

Spifey’s perspective on vidcon 2018

the skittles thing on spifey’s vlog channel (tapL shows up near the end)

And also they teaming for MCU along with Vurb and Finn!!!!

anyone, feel free to add onto this! and once again, thank u for the question, anon <3

#spifL #thank you!

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just-like-playing-tag · 4 years ago

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Ok I've been tagged to a bit of tag games a while ago so I'm doing all of them in a single post. I feel like with some of them I was tagged by more than one person so sorry if I forgot to mention anyone,,

I was tagged by @shot-tothestars and @bluelric. Thank you for thinking about me <3

Rules: tag 10 follows you’d like to know better (Btw I don't get what does that mean? Do I have to tag people one follows, or people they're followed by?)

(Also I'm just skipping the questions I don't like, but here's all of them for reference in case someone else wants to do it!)

Cats or dogs: Definitely dogs!!

Current time: 12:14 pm when I started, then I stopped and now as the exact moment I'm posting this it's 01:20 am

Favorite animal: Uhm probably seaguls? But I really like birds in general, they look so free from everything. And cool marine creatures!!

When I made this blog: First post is from June the 13th!

Reason for url: Explained here :)

Tagging: Nobody here because I answered half of the questions so I don't find it fair to ask somebody to do it lol.

Tagged by @shot-tothestars; Again thank for tagging me; and feel free to hmu any time if you feel like it, I swear I don't bite XD

Rules: Tag 9 people you want to know better/catch up with

Three ships: Excluding tpn because that would be lame, the first that come to my mind are Bones x Kirk - Star Trek, (platonic) Elsa / Anna - Frozen, All Might x happiness - My Hero Academia. Now that I think about it, I've never been much of a shipping person? I personally find platonic relationships much more interesting.

Last song: The Opera - Natasha, Pierre & The Great Comet of 1812. Since it's quite a long song, I listen to it significantly less than the other songs from the recording- it's still a beautiful song tho.

Last movie: I may be wrong but I think it was J. J. Abrams' Super 8. I remember being very scared by it when I was younger, so I wanted to see if watching it again now it would have still scared me. It didn't, but it was a nice movie nonetheless!

Currently reading: Unfortunately I don't read much for myself during school, and even when it's finished I find it very hard to get back on track; but I really want to read War and Peace so that's probably the one I'm starting next- together with Dostoevsky's Notes from Underground because I can't possibly read just one book at once.

Currently watching: Some things. Avatar: The Last Airbender, Death Note, rewatching Kill la Kill with my cousin; also sporadically watching Steven Universe episodes and Law & Order (the original plus SVU) whenever it plays on TV. As bonus, I just finished watching Japan Sinks and Little Witch Academia. (I hadn't realized until now how many things I was watching and had watched, wow?? I'm glad I didn't waste time.)

Currently consuming: Nothing? Should I?

Food i’m craving: Uhm... The Wok to Walk I ate back in London last year... There's so many good places to eat in London and I live in a small small town with nothing to eat, it makes me want to cry ;;;;;;

Tagging: The last three people in my dms @fandoms-and-shitpost, @puff-poff, @acaderhmic; the last three people in my notes @illbecryinginthecorner, @cookiespace, @galezea; the last three people who followed me @yeoshin-est, @losertea, @soulessgingersthings.

Tagged by @bluelric and @stray-tori. Again thank you so much <3

Rules: Answer 17 questions and tag 17 people! (Please make sure to create a new post rather than reblogging!)

Nicknames: Tag? I love the nicknames you don't chose yourself, I think it's a cute thing

Age (the long lost question everyone was wondering about): Newly 19 bby 😎

Zodiac: Cancer according to astrology and Gemini according to astronomy (I don't really believe in astrology tho,,)

Height: I really have no idea. Average??

Last thing I googled: "little witch academia"

Song stuck in my head: Drift Away - Steven Universe: The Movie.

Number of followers: Really peoples one of the best things about Tumblr is not showing the followers number, thus making it easier for smaller and bigger blogs to interact, and not creating some sort of social classes based on ephemeral and currish arbitrary assigned popularity values. Why should I tell my followers number.

n followers I love very much <3

Amount of sleep: 6/7 hours (4/5 on school days)

Lucky number: ? Dunnot? I like even numbers

Dream job: Uhm something where I can give my best to significantly do something to change the world for the better - hopefully doing something I'm especially good at. Like, putting my abilities to the service of the community. I'll start studying political science at university! (I don't really aim to become a politician tho)

Wearing: I've spent more than one hour looking for an imagine of my shirt on the internet, but, as I should have expected, it seems like clothes companies delete the public data about older collections. Anyway, it's a cute, white, very light shirt with short sleeves. It's got thin vertical stripes of various pastel colors and it's made of a kinda rough material I can't seem to identify. Under that there's high-waisted, light blue jeans. I like this outfit, I find it pretty. I like wearing pretty things even when I'm staying home, it makes me feel good about myself.

Favorite song: With no hesitations, No One Else - Natasha, Pierre & The Great Comet of 1812. The only doubt I have is if I prefer Phillipa Soo's or Denée Benton's version.

Favorite instruments: Probably piano; second place is cello.

Favorite author: Of what? If this is about books, I don't feel like I read enough to give a fair answer, but so far Dostoevsky and Kafka really stuck with me.

Favorite animal sound: Seaguls' squeal!!!! But also lil birdies' chirping.

Aesthetic: Docks!! The seaguls screaming in the air. The sun shining in the blue sky, originating mesmerizing reflects on the sea, like millions of dimonds. All the smells in the world concentrated in just one place. The movement, the life!! So many sights, smells, flavors and feelings mixing together. The ephemeral beauty of catching, for a single moment, the sight of something marvelous and extraordinary, and never getting to see it again, but cherishing this exaggerated memory of that serendipity. The hectic atmosphere of people going to and fro. The concept of connecting different cultures, the concept of leaving for new adventures. Just one place filled with complete strangers all so different, all so unique, where you can disappear - but without losing yourself. I just find harbors neat!

Random: My posts follow a 4 fanart posts/ 4 text posts (or 2 fanart posts/ 2 text posts) pattern; it physically hurts to mess up, thus it can happen that some of the most recent reblogs may disappear for a while (but they always come back ;)

Tagging: @neverlandstrio, @idlyingabout , @holy-mantequilla, @vapidsoup, @dpgoinghost, @chidoroki, @lovesick-lovely, @ueno-ito-en, @x-supernova, @notelectrictiger12, @bubblesandpages, @joy-in-gold-shadows, @thathilomgirl, @yalikejazzmydude, @neo--queen--serenity, @wheatormeat, @icyhotsparkybroccoli but really feel free to ignore this if you don't like this stuff

And everyone else who wants to do this (or any of the others!!)

#The reason why I tag all these people is because #I'm that kind of person who enjoys doing this stuff #But won't untill I'm tagged #And that's because I'm d u m b #But ye

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kvngjoong · 5 years ago

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she was a rainbow [two - lee felix]

→ felix lee x f!you, university!au, in which felix discovers that his feelings aren’t as easy to understand as he first may have thought → 5.4k+, pretty much all angst and unrequited love

part 2 of 3

“I actually met this guy?”

“This guy?” Felix repeats, unsure of what you mean. It sounded like a question you were posing to him, and Felix wasn’t entirely sure what you wanted in return.

Your blank stare means that the image of you with another guy beside you, hugging you, showing his love to you in every form, it’s pretty much on the right track. It wasn’t him who you’d met. It was a guy. “Yeah, you know. A guy.”

“Are you going to elaborate?” Felix’s irritation is clear through his properly enunciated syllables, each word clearly being presented to you. Luckily you don’t notice, likely because you’re thinking about whoever this guy is.

“Okay,” you reply with a wide smile. Felix feels bad for accidentally giving you permission to tell him about something he really doesn’t want to know about. He could listen to you talk for years, he could sit across from you and watch your pretty lips explain any topic picked out of a hat, though to tell him that the love he was feeling for you, even if he didn’t realise as of yet that it was love, that wasn’t something he could sit by. “We’re going on a date tomorrow.”

Felix has always wondered what the future may hold.

He doesn’t consider himself someone who struggled to keep his head out of the clouds, but he was a dreamer and didn’t care too much for it. If his head wasn’t in a book about other worldly activities, he was playing a video game that was fantasy based, or he was imagining it as he stared into the distance and imagined a world that was oh so different to the one he lived in.

Not because he hated the world he lived in, oh no, Felix Lee lived a very good life that he enjoyed very very much. He had a strange group of friends that he had grown to like over the years, he felt that he was everything he wanted to be, and most importantly he was enjoying himself. It had been that way for a while, since he moved to South Korea and made friends with an equally small boy named Seungmin.

The pair were pretty much inseparable through school and that continued all the way into university, since they were now living together and continuing life like they always wanted to. Except, now they had the addition of a guy that Seungmin met in one of his classes named Jeongin. The boy who Felix swore was a descendant of Inari Okami, blame Seungmin’s anime for that reference, was a pretty good addition to make their dorm bills cheaper and the pair a trio.

Yet, Felix found himself so lost in a fantasy world because something was missing.

He never understood what it was, but he could feel from the very bottom of his soul that there was a part of him which he didn’t understand; he couldn’t grasp like he was meant to. The key to unlocking it could be found somewhere but he was yet to find it.

“Um… Excuse me?” a voice behind Felix pulls him from the daze he’s in, staring at the board with some fliers stuck to it as he waits for his class to be called in. He takes one of the earbuds from his ear. “Is this class on employment law?”

Felix raises a brow at the girl in front of him. You’re not too different in height than him, you have messy hair and a bright coloured striped top which is brighter than anything he’s ever owned. He’s definitely never seen you in a lecture. “No, this is clinical psychology.”

“Oh.”

“Do you study psychology?”

You shake your head. “I study international business. I thought this was the room. That’s what one of the guys said downstairs.”

Felix feels some pity for you. You must be a new student, judging from how you were lost in the building which was the least easy to get lost in. He remembers when he was new and found out that Seungmin would not be with him when he had his classes he went into a slight panic mode because he had a tendency to get lost easily, too. So he decides to help you out, being the kind of guy he is.

“Where were you supposed to be?” Felix asks you.

“Uh…” You pause to look down at your phone and squint a little, despite your glasses. Maybe they were fake. “It says D2.8. That’s here, right?”

Felix offers a sympathetic smile. “You’re in the wrong building.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, it’s not too far…” Felix waits for a moment, realising that he would be murdered by his parents for ditching someone who needed some help. “I can take you there, if you like?”

He’d miss his class for helping someone out, no one in there talked to him anyway. Felix was talkative if he had people to talk to, but no one even wanted to sit next to him in there. There was a bundle of things Felix could complain about, but now he was helping you.

“I’m Felix, by the way.” He sticks out his hand for your to shake, earning a curious look from you. “Bit of a strange way to meet, huh?”

You smile softly at his joke. “Terrible way to meet. Now I’m going to be late and I’m making you late too. It’s terrible karma. I’m (Y/N).”

Cute name. Felix doesn’t know if it means anything special, but he repeats it a few times in his head because it sounds cute. Felix was a fan of name collecting, he liked hearing people’s names because names are the most personal thing someone can tell you. He remembers what Seungmin has told him about demonology and fairies too.

“Did you just move here?”

“To Korea?” you ask. Felix raises an eyebrow, considering that your Korean is almost perfect, you must be from somewhere in Korea. He can’t work out your accent. “Yeah, I did actually. My parents moved around a lot when I was younger but I wanted to come to Korea for university. I figured it would be cool to see.”

Felix hums. “Yeah, I get you. I lived in Australia for a while before my parents told me to come back here to study. I kinda wanted to meet all the family I never got to before. Are you liking Korea?”

“It’s beautiful here. Literally, I find myself walking around a lot because of how much there is to see. Probably will get me in some trouble one day, walking around a late at night. I don’t know if it’s as safe here as it was where I was from.”

“Well, if you need someone to walk with I’m always free,” Felix tells you with a smile. He may have accidentally started to flirt but it was definitely an accident because Felix couldn’t intentionally flirt to save his life. He just rolls with it; you’re cute and this must have been a sign.

Felix knew he was the world’s worst unintentional flirt. He didn’t mean to say the things he did but when they left his mouth and he was left staring at the face of someone who was realising that he was flirting with them, he felt worse about it than he should have. It just came out, it was natural for him.

And he realises that, with you, his flirting comes more often than he can account for.

The subtle problem of flirting with you becomes a bigger problem over time, since you’re not the girl that he walked to class when she was lost anymore, you end up becoming his friend over a shared number and sitting together in the library. Not that he studies. Felix sits opposite to Jeongin and Seungmin praying that you’ll show up and he can have some time away from dumb and dumber (self proclaimed).

There’s too many times he’s sat next to you listening to you ramble over whatever book you were reading or something that caught your attention, and he’ll absentmindedly pull his lip between his teeth as he listens to your speak. A habit that he can’t break, no matter what he tries to do.

Of anything he was appreciative to have a new friend. He had no idea how it happened. One day you were just texting since you offered to share your number and agreed to it, not yet knowing that you might have taken his walking offer as flirting, and the next you were getting lunch together and he was laughing at your jokes and expressing himself to you in a way he hadn’t quite done with anyone else.

“You just get me,” he tells you, looking across the table at you with wide eyes and a blank smile. He watches as you laugh off his comment and wishes you’d have taken it seriously, though plays along with your humour. “Like, we just understand each other.”

You hum, still amused by his expression. “Maybe it’s fate we were to meet then.”

Oh, it may just have been fate, but don’t tell Felix that. Since he loved those old style books, the ones from the Greek and Roman times, he was a big believer in your fate being decided before you were to ever have a say in it.

Any mention that fate was between you to would have had Felix shoving your key inside his lock, even if he knew it already didn’t match just by looking. Though he did check, and Felix was sure that you key was a perfect match for his lock.

Even if you were just friends.

Felix was starting to feel like that hole in his life was disappearing. He wasn’t looking to a future that didn’t exist to complete him. He didn’t even contemplate the idea of a fantasy world unless he was dreaming. His thoughts, his feelings, his memories; they were all falling down to you.

And the worst thing?

He’d only known you a matter of weeks.

It was all moving so fast for him and there was nothing that he could do about it. Felix had never experienced such a flurry of emotions which left his heart racing and eyes with hearts around them. Wasn’t it just a second ago you were lost in the building and he showed you to where you should be?

No, a second ago Felix was watching you as you told him about a show you were watching, and Felix had an unexplainable desire to kiss you. Because your lips looked soft. Because you probably tasted really nice. Because, over everything else, he wanted to have his hand in the back of your hair and feels your nails run over his skin.

Felix wasn’t experiencing imaginary feelings towards someone that he made up for the purposes of his own satisfaction. Not that he did that very much anyway. Felix just… had a story going on in his head where his life was perfect and everything went well for him.

Unfortunately life isn’t that simple, and it never would be for him.

Not with you around.

“I have something to tell you.”

Felix looks up from his laptop, surprised to hear your voice when you’d been so focused on the work you said you’d been doing. He knew you had coursework due but also knew you were leaving it to the last minute to get some sudden inspiration on the topic.

So he takes out his other earphone on the premise this was likely going to be more important that you would say it is. “What is it?”

“Nothing important,” you answer, shrugging a little in return. Felix was right, as he assumed. You were deflecting from the topic you actually wanted to share. It was important to you, and he knew that already. Felix is running a list of topics you cared about through his head until you interrupt him with the one thing he didn’t expect. “I actually met this guy?”

“This guy?” Felix repeats, unsure of what you mean. It sounded like a question you were posing to him, and Felix wasn’t entirely sure what you wanted in return.

And god did that piss him off.

His fake smiles might not have been obvious to you, and for that he’s glad, though anyone else who really looked at how Felix responded to your questions would have been able to tell that he was not, in the slightest, happy for you.

He could feign that reaction to you.

He could act like every little thing you told him about your dates, about your newly certified best friend or, even worse, boyfriend, really didn’t affect him that much.

But Seungmin noticed the very first time there was a problem not being addressed.

“She’s with Hyunjin.”

Felix’s statement is enough to catch the attention of Jeongin as well as Seungmin, the pair looking to Felix like he’d revealed an entirely new plot of lore to a game they’ve all been playing. The latter frowns at a new name in the puzzle.

“Who’s Hyunjin?” Seungmin asks.

Felix shrugs, looking back to his laptop. He has messenger open and an unread message to you staring right back at him. You were never the quickest at responding but it had been a few hours now and you’d stopped replying halfway through a conversation. “Just this guy.”

His explanation isn’t the clearest, but the other two are smart enough to realise what he’s referring to. Jeongin notices the discontent in his elder’s voice though doesn’t say anything. The youngest is usually quiet about things like this and brings them up at a later date when things get awkward.

Instead, it’s Seungmin who misses the point completely and, given that the time you’ve spent with him too, believes wholeheartedly that Felix cares just as much about your happiness as his own.

“Damn, lucky her,” Seungmin states, placing his phone down on the table. He ignores the questioning look that Felix shoots him, focusing more on you, as Felix should have been doing. “It’s good she found someone who doesn’t just wanna smash and pass.”

Felix is happy that Seungmin ignores the pressing issue of why you were skimmed over so quickly. Why Felix, as your best friend, had nothing else to offer on the topic apart from that guy and a name that he had put to a face far too many times, since he couldn’t get it out of his head that you were now going to be with someone that he didn’t a, know that well, and b, wasn't him.

Yeah, Hyunjin was the kind of guy everyone would like to be with. He was an athlete that was kind of stuck up in his ways and, rather obnoxiously, wore his sports gear around campus like he wanted everyone and their mum to know exactly who he was and what he did.

It was enough for Felix to roll his eyes each time he saw the taller guy with nice skin hanging around.

And honestly, he gets it.

Felix understands your attraction to him, because Hwang Hyunjin was a very common topic in the cafeteria in one of the buildings and apparently every girl is swooning over his tall frame, pretty eyes and plump lips. There was also his majestically styled hair, the fact he could dance, and his accent when he spoke English.

Felix contemplates the true power of his Australian accent because of that one. He really thought that girls liked it, since he knew the other Australian on campus, Chan, was a big hit with girls since they liked his voice.

Though now he’s thinking that’s more to do with the fact Chan can sing.

It was beside the point, Felix had realised that the key you held in your hands wasn’t fitting lock completely. It touched every pin, though it missed the pin that he needed so badly.

He couldn’t help but want to hear that things weren’t working out for you. He would have begged to hear you sit down one day, distract him from his coursework, and openly tell him that you thought Hyunjin was terrible at something.

The problem was that Hyunjin was amazing at everything. All the way from contact sports to stealing your heart without a trace left for Felix.

It was always Hyunjin this and Hyunjin that for you. Felix would listen like the good friend he was though he would never actually say a word to you because he was worried he would tell you something crazy if he opened his mouth.

You know, like, I love you. Not him.

It’s one day after you’ve been together a few weeks that Felix stumbles across a topic that he thinks may catch the athlete out. They were yet to meet, but the absence of your presence on his social media (that Felix was unashamed to admit he was stalking, for your benefit of course) and the way that you presented Hyunjin gave him one impression.

Hyunjin wasn’t very capable of emotions.

“Does he love you?” Felix asks, words louder than the TV in the distance.

You look over to him, eyes wide. You’re not sure if you’ve heard him correctly, though it’s likely that you did given the stern look he’s returning you with. You look back to the TV momentarily, swallowing your pride and deciding to answer him anyway.

“It’s been three weeks, why would he love me?”

Your reply is enough to send Felix to silence, wondering whether he fell in love with you within 3 weeks. He thinks he did, he thinks that by week 2 he was enamoured by your smile and his heart would miss a beat each time your laughed. Week 3 for him must have been about when he stopped wondering whether his heart going doki doki was an indicator that you were his soulmate.

Before he gets judged, he was just struggling with his emotions on the opposite end to Hyunjin.

Whilst Hyunjin appeared to not be able to show them, Felix had far too many of them and he wanted out.

Emotions hurt too damn much. All Felix wanted was a peaceful time at university, to get his degree and move on so he can go onto writing the book he always dreamed about whilst he gets his qualifications to go into forensic psychology, since that was a pretty cool unit when he studied it.

It was far from peaceful for him, though, especially within his own thoughts. The only escape Felix gets is when he approaches Jeongin in the hopes the youngest could offer some advice in the form of… Felix not having to deal with his thoughts on his own.

“Because he probably doesn’t,” Jeongin states. His statement causes Felix’s heart to skip more beats than the boy would ever be happy to admit. Jeongin looks over to a couple that are sat near to them, watching them for a moment before he turns back to Felix. “I heard they got together at that party. He did just wanna smash and pass after all.”

Felix frowns at the thought. He didn’t go out with you often, but he thought you were on a more conservative side. He didn’t know jack shit about your relationship with Hyunjin but he thought it was more than that. You were comfortable with Hyunjin, more so than with Felix it seemed, and he couldn’t imagine that Hyunjin was with you this whole time just to do that with you.

So Felix defends Hyunjin for some reason, believing it was in betterment to you. “You don’t know that.”

“I do,” Jeongin states. The youngest chews on the straw of his drink for a moment, then sips some of his drunk. Felix only looks on with discontent, his point unproven. “Because I’m an expert when it comes to love.”

Felix can only scoff at the statement. Yang Jeongin was many things, but the boy was too nervous to talk to girls and went as far as avoiding group work with anyone he wasn’t friends with. Honestly, girls scared him, and Felix was very aware of that fact. The only thing that Jeongin had to his advantage was that he always listened, and he always knew what was going on behind the scenes. It was the emotions bit he didn’t get.

“Find me someone to love, then.”

“I can’t.” Jeongin’s reply cuts a little too deep at Felix’s ego. The younger defends himself with a blasé statement and shrug. “You don’t want to love anyone.”

“What do you mean?” Felix asks, all the while knowing that Jeongin’s statement wasn’t too far from the truth.

It’s not that he didn’t want to love anyone, it was that he didn’t want to love anyone but you.

It’s an unfortunate fact that Felix faces when he’s sat out in the darkness you like so much, the stars shining down on him and the moon offering a calming cup of reality and sympathy.

He doesn’t see you out, even though he knows this is where you would have passed at the exact time he was sat there - not that he was a stalker, he just remembers you saying from before. He knows you’re off somewhere with Hyunjin, enjoying the love you feel for someone other than him.

His heart feels like breaking.

Felix sits on the bench until the sun starts to rise and the birds are catching the worms, eyes fixated on the path he wished that he was walking on that day when you met Hyunjin.

Oh, how things would be different.

Instead of moping around about it, he returns home with his under eyes red and head thumping from tiredness. He sleeps for about fifteen hours when he finally lays face down in bed, covers not even over him, the last thought on his mind being that he should just tell you.

Tell you how each time you look in his direction he’s reminded that the sun is a star.

Tell you how each time he hears your name he’s reminded of the peace that comes alongside the cosmos.

Tell you how, no matter what you do, he’s so effortlessly in love with you that his heart is about to burst like a supernova.

But you’re just a blackhole that can’t give anything back to him.

He thinks about it all day, knees hugged to his chest and headphones on. The right amount of sad songs convincing him that being honest is the best way forward. He considers calling you, but at the back of his head there’s a lingering thought that he doesn’t want to have you reject him without him seeing your face.

So he asks you to meet him the next day instead, hoping that seeing him in person might give you a little extra… well, push to actually love him back.

“I have to tell you something,” Felix says, interrupting the silence between the two of you. He realises that he’s a little louder than intended when you look up from you book and check around you both to see if anyone else is interested in the conversation, too.

“What?” you question, head turned slightly to the side in interest. “Are you okay, Felix?”

How could anyone be fine when they were going to give a confession they’d put off this entire time out of fear of rejection?

God, you had a boyfriend, this was about as pointless as the thoughts he had of you two actually being together in the future.

“Yeah.” Felix answers, his hands and voice both shaky. He pushes through it, offering the most generic of smiles he can in order to convince you that there was no other emotion running through him than… content. Yeah, he was content. Nothing else. “I’m fine”

“You look like you’re going to pass out.”

Way to state the obvious.

Felix feels like he’s going to pass out, too. Or at least throw up a few hundred times in response to coming to terms with his feelings for you that he’s pushed to the back of his mind for more time than he can remember.

He wonders if he can avoid all of this by staring at you and creeping you out enough that you just leave and you never talk to him again. Who is Felix kidding, you are too kind to do that. You’d have tried to be the best friend that you can if you though he was going through something.

So he works up the courage to tell you what he wanted to, albeit slowly, and finally admit to you that he had a never ending string of feelings for you that he couldn’t get to go away no matter how many times he tried to.

Except your phone starts ringing and his heart stops beating completely.

Your look is apologetic for what you think he’s going to tell you. Felix can at least appreciate that. “Hold on, Hyunjin is calling me. Can it wait five minutes?”

He realises then that he could never tell you.

Hyunjin was always there to block him off, put your attention elsewhere when the one you really needed to be paying attention to was Felix.

It wasn’t even like Felix could put a logical reason to it. He wasn’t better than Hyunjin in anyway. He wasn’t more attractive, he wasn’t taller, he wasn’t any more talented. They had their individual things and Felix was just mad you loved Hyunjin instead of him.

At first he gets a bit angry. A thrown book, a thrash at his pillow, two screams into the blanket at the side of his bed. Felix lets out his anger for this whole situation in a matter of seconds in the hopes that things will die down in his head.

The thoughts were back. The ideas of a fantasy realm where he was in love with someone, and they were in love with him too. He was back to searching for a key to his heart and no matter what he did, you were always the one leading the search for him.

That’s what hurt him the most.

No matter what he did, no matter how many times he tried to get your face out of his mind, you managed to weasel your way straight back to the front of his mind and it left him more pissed off than ever before.

So he decides to act like nothing has changed. To try his best and accept that you don’t love him, you love Felix, and instead of thinking so negatively he would try to support you in the best way he can as your best friend.

Which works for the better part of a few weeks.

He listens to your rants about how good Hyunjin is to you. He sits back and lets you tell him every little detail, even the ones he doesn’t particularly want to hear, because he wants to be a good friend to you. There’s part of him that really wants you to see how good he is to you, and that same part of him hopes you’ll adjust your feelings just a touch to see him in the same way you did Hyunjin.

It gets easier over time for Felix, anyway. The days pass by like nothing and instead of being caught up in the thoughts of wanting you to love him back, he’s back to enjoying spending time with you and looking forward to the next time he saw you.

He feels that everything is back on track and that it’s all going well.

That is until he meets you one day and you’re fixed with nothing but a blank stare and teary eyes.

Felix does the whole good friend act like always, he buys you a hot chocolate with cream and marshmallows, he finds you a good place to sit, he even offers you the latest take on an album from your favourite artist and offers to buy it for you in the hopes it will cheer you up.

He expects you to say there was an argument, but the way you look into the distance like something is missing, a look he knows all too well, tells him that this is more than just a Hyunjin argument.

“We broke up.”

Felix isn’t surprised to hear the words leave you, especially when you’d spent the entire day quieter than you’d ever been before. He feels more anger than sympathy in his heart, mind falling on the one person he thought had caused him problems this entire time.

“Hyunjin broke up with you?” He asks, eliciting little more than a nod.

It has to sit with him for a few hours before it sinks in to him. Though you’re by his side the whole time, sat next to him watching whatever movie you wanted to put on, Felix can’t quite wrap his head around the fact that you aren’t dating Hyunjin anymore.

Even a few days later, weeks even, Felix doesn't feel like anything has changed.

At first he thinks it’s because Hyunjin isn’t around at all anyway. His presence wasn’t suddenly missed, there was never a group of Felix’s friends that involved Hyunjin. Instead it was just the lack of his name in conversation and an inability to refer to your boyfriend when the opportunity arose.

It takes a while to occur to Felix that, despite the image of a dastardly boy who stole away his princess which came to mind when thinking on Hyunjin, the main issue at hand was never that he loved you.

No, Hyunjin never asked you to love him, and nor did he force it either.

It dawns on Felix when he hears you say to one of your other friends in the corridor that you were looking at dating sites because you wanted to find someone who could replace Hyunjin. Not even a glance in Felix’s direction the entire conversation.

When he gets home, sits on his bed and stares at the wall for twenty minutes, he realises the comment he can deduct from the entire situation.

Hyunjin was never Felix’s problem.

You were the problem this entire time.

You were in love with Hyunjin and you had all of these feelings which never pointed to Felix and you never wanted to give Felix the chance to show you, prove to you that he cared for you and would have treated you better than anyone else ever could.

And he shouldn’t take it personally, because sometimes love is unrequited.

Felix is left with a dilemma which means he’s in love with you, a girl who won’t ever consider him more than your best friend. He’s not sure what to do, because he still knows that telling you is pointless. A confession would drive you apart and your friendship means a lot to him.

But the endless nights of insomnia and wandering thoughts at points in the class where he really didn’t want to be thinking about you, they catch up to him.

He draws the line in caring when he realises his chance is back to zero. Though it might be selfish, he values the idea of a peaceful night's sleep without your face popping up to remind him of what he wished to escape so badly.

Sometimes you have to let go of what you love, in order to show you love them.

“This is Changbin,” you say, introducing the boy to your side. He looks a little shy. He has his hair hanging over his face, shirt too big for him but suiting the rock band guitarist look he was going for. Felix hides his sickening feeling with a smile and offer of a seat. You don’t notice the look in his eyes that he would with you. You don’t see how he’s left with nothingness filling the space around him once again. “I hope you get on well.”

You don’t see how Felix is left at the bottom of a dark pit, none of which fit the lock he’s got wrapped over and over around his heart.

The light you shone down onto him is switched off by the plug. He can’t see his shining, silver key that he thought you were pointing out to him, he’s surrounded by a pile of keys that he’s been trying for years to no avail.

You were a rainbow in the darkness that showed him a path forward, but he was hoping for so much more.

#Felix reactions #Felix scenarios #Felix smut #felix imagines #stray kids smut #stray kids reaction #stray kids scenario #stray kids imagine #stray kids

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baebyeolbe · 5 years ago

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TwitLonger from Minimi, a player for Team Austria and the Orisa for Clockwork Vendetta

“This is going to be quite a long post since I have alot to ramble about so if you don't want to read the whole thing feel free to just scim through the bullet points.

Now that OWWC and Blizzcon are over I wanted to give some insight on how it felt like to compete at the event this year. These are all my personal opinions and I don't want to speak on behalf of my team since all of them experienced it differently.

1.) Announcement

No financial support and only players above the age of 18 was quite the shock right away. I always assumed that a giant company like Blizzard would have enough spare money to atleast support teams in sone way with the flight or the accomodation to make it a somewhat even playing field between all nations.

With those news we instantly lost alot of amazing players that would help us compete with bigger countries. Especially sad when you lose talanted players like eclipse due to the age restriction or Sensotix due to missing financial support.

2.) Building the roster

Compared to other countries our process of getting a team together is extremely different. We don't have people fighting for spots and we sometimes don't even have the option to vote between different committee members. Both Surface and wat7 did a fantastic job at their positions yet our general manager decided to jump ship shortly after being "voted" (he was the only option), meaning that we had to organize flight, airbnb and various contacts ourselves.

For players we got a decent roster of 6 together but got nowhere near the 12 man roster like others. At some point we even had to straight up just ask through the sign up list if someone wants to fly with us as the 7th man but almost everyone declined because they didn't want to pay for the flight or the airbnb. My main reason for flying to the world cup was not to compete with others since we knew our chances and realisticly we would only be able to beat 1 or 2 teams out of all nations even with perfect preparation

3.) Sponsors

With Blizzards rather strict sponsor policy we were not able to find anyone to support us with the trip. The only way we would have been able to promote a sponsor would have been on our twitter but since nobody in their right mind would pay more than 100€ for a twitter post on an account with 3k followers there was no way for us to get somebody on board. Another way would have been via crowd funding but since we didn't want fans to pay for our trip we just decided to pay everything ourselves and basically see it as vacation.

On a side note: when we had lunch at the player/staff area they handed out pepsi which was quite funny to us since Coca Cola was their main sponsor. Throughout the entire event we only saw pepsi and not a single coca cola. When we tried to poke fun at this by making a twitter post with pepsi in our coca cola jersey we instantly got told to take it down since that interferes with their sponsoring. We will never know why they wouldn't just offer coca cola in the first place if they are sponsored by them.

4.) The event

After arriving and exploring the area for a bit we got to pick up our player badge the next day. When we headed out to the convention center we got excited for media day since we were promised an interview and some fotos with the team. Turns out we didn't get an interview because they didn't have enough time for that. We ended up being one of the few countries that didn't get an interview at all and everything we got was a group photo that would get shown on stream before each map. Before they shot the photo we got to try on our amazing jerseys. Sure... they might not have names on the back and any country with red and white in their flag basically got the same jersey but atleast they were wearable.

Practice "rooms" were not available for us but since didn't plan on practicing on site anyways it wasn't really an issue.

The actual playing area for all matches up to the playoffs was an absolute joke. The PCs and monitors there were great, don't get me wrong. Countires were divided by a curtain. The fact that you could hear comms from the country next to you better than your own voice was rather annoying. Furthermore the desks felt like 5$ tables from walmart. Our DPS players had to sit at the edges of the line so they wouldn't have to bump into the next desk eith their mouse while aiming. No idea why they would ever pair high end hardware with desks that vary in height.

The tournament format was extremely questionable this year. Single elimination should never be a thing when countries prepare months upon months for this event. It didn't bother us too much since we didn't prepare as hard as other teams. But I really don't want to imagine how others felt when they put in hundreds of hours just to get kicked out after one match. I don't really see the reason behind switching from the format they had last year.

After we got rolled by NZL like we expected we got our player rights revoked meaning that if we leave the player area once we would become normal attendees.

5.) POSITIVE ASPECTS

While things might not have been organized perfectly this year I still want to thank blizzard for bringing us together as a community. Without the game I would have never met all those amazing people and friends.

Blizzcon itself was great and seeing the playoffs live in the arena was an experience I will probably never forget.

With all that being said I really hope that Blizzard handles the world cup differently next year. Simply going back to the old system would solve alot of issues. If nothing changes until next year I'm very likely not going to compete in the world cup anymore. There are so many amazing nations out there that put in hundreds of hours of work in yet blizzard still doesn't want to work together with their community to make this event a better experience for everyone.

Ramble finished. :)”

#overwatch world cup #overwatch esports #overwatch league #sorry for the weird spacing

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geek-patient-zero · 5 years ago

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Part 2, Chapter 2

Or: Prospect Fights

Blood War: Masquerade of the Red Death Trilogy Volume 1

Brooklyn, NY—March 14, 1994

Last chapter we were introduced to our second main protagonist (and secret “former” ancient vampire) Alicia Varney, her manservant (and sometimes lover but only if she’s really desperate) Sanford Jackson, and her (ignorantly treated and no doubt illegally owned) pet black panther Sumohn. Miss Varney decided to start her day off by taking her pet for a walk in “Prospect Heights Park”, which Jackson described as a virtual No Man’s Land abandoned by the police and local government to gangs and psychos.

Before we move on, let’s talk a bit about the place.

In real life, the park this chapter takes place in is called Prospect Park. No “Heights”. Looks like Weinberg got the name confused with Prospect Heights, a small but affluent neighborhood and one of five that border the park. The park’s main entrance, Grand Army Plaza, is part of Prospect Heights, so along with the name and location I can see how you can confuse the two.

There really was a point, during the 70′s, where the park was considered dangerous and crime-infested. I know. A place in New York City? In the 70′s? Awful? Nah, can’t be. Back then, 44% of New Yorkers warned others to avoid the park. One New York Times article I’ve found from 2010, about a then-retiring park administrator credited with helping restore the place, begins with this about 1970′s Prospect Park:

Drugs were sold at the carousel. Muggers used the cover provided by the park’s shrubs and foliage. One year, near the skating rink, a man was found shot to death, and another year, the acting supervisor of the zoo was arrested and charged with shooting animals.

In the 1970s, Prospect Park in Brooklyn looked more like a crime scene than the pastoral refuge imagined a century earlier by Frederick Law Olmsted and Calvert Vaux.

As if to advertise the woeful state of the park, in 1976 Columbia, the figure driving atop the arch at Grand Army Plaza, fell over in her chariot, a victim of disrepair.

So don’t go thinking that Weinberg got all this stuff from nothing.

During the 80′s and early 90′s, thanks to efforts from both the city and non-profits like The Prospect Park Alliance, the park was cleaned up and became a nice safe place to take the kids. But this is the World of Darkness, a Harsher, Crueler Yadda Dadda Da, you get the point. Going with the usual theme of “Everything’s Awful, Always, and We’re All Going to Die (And There’s Werewolves N’ Shit)” what little restoration efforts were made to the park in this universe failed miserably. And hoooohoho man did they fail. Here’s how the chapter starts, with a more thorough description of the park now that we’ve got a viewpoint character there:

Huge white signs with blood-red lettering were posted on every gate leading into the park, declaring the area off-limits to law-abiding citizens. The posters, left untouched more as a grim joke than sage advice, were ignored by the crowds of people who constantly entered and left the forested area. Prospect Heights served as the major supply center of illicit drugs, assault weapons, and kept women in New York City. It was also the headquarters of more than a half-dozen major gangs and two terrorist groups.

Anything illegal could be bought for a price in the dense woods. That purchasing the goods required a certain amount of risk was a fact of life. It was all part of the New York scene. Those who couldn’t adapt, left. Or died.

A fifteen-foot-high steel fence surrounded the entire park. The last attempt of a previous administration to keep the cancerous growth of the park from spreading through Brooklyn and the connecting boroughs, it worked more as a barrier to keep the police out than the criminals in. At least once a month, a body was found impaled on the sharp spikes that topped the posts. Several years ago a dozen heads had decorated the pikes for days, a grim reminder of the gang warfare that waged incessantly within the gates.

It’s like if instead of closing down and becoming an auto parts shop, your local Blockbuster turned into a snuff film distributor. Also, goddamn terrorists moved in.

No one dared to enter the park alone, or unarmed. Unless that person was Alicia Varney.

Walking in with a panther doesn’t mean you’re accompanied and armed? Good to know, good to know.

It’s currently early afternoon, and let’s see... She got up at sunrise, which in March would be between six and six-thirty. The events of the last chapter seemed to have taken about over an hour. She’d have to get from Manhattan to Brooklyn in World of Darkness New York City traffic. Assuming she was driven she probably didn’t beat rush hour. If she had really bad luck, she would’ve had to deal with squeegie-men; y’know, those guys who wash the windows of cars stuck in traffic without being asked and try to extort the driver for the “service”? And she’d have to take a route that avoided the Baseball Furies. Add all that up and... I guess? Frankly, early afternoon’s the best case scenario here.

Varney, with Sumohn by her side with a thin leather strip for a leash, enters the park near the giant carousel (which according to the PPA website is the Willink entrance, east side of the park, at Flatbush Avenue and Empire Boulevard). The carousel was “one of the last efforts in the futile attempt to restore Prospect Heights to its former glory”, making it sound like the whole thing was installed recently instead of being a part of the park since the early 1900′s.

Alright, alright, no more park talk. You’re here for vampires, not Brooklyn history, I get it.

The black panther growled softly with every step. A great deal different than an ordinary jungle cat, the monstrous beast possessed more than five senses. It detected hostility in the woods. And death.

After what we’ve been told about the park, no shit, cat.

I’ve seen some WOD vampire OC’s described as having ghoul pets, There’s this one video campaign on Youtube, Blood on the Thames, where the Nosferatu character has a pet ghouled fennec fox. But when you think about it, if ghouling works the same with animals as it does with people, then they’re not really pets. They’re mental slaves, their feelings of love and loyalty toward their owner artificial. They might look happy to see your OC, but in reality it’s having a little heart attack out of fear because the thing rubbing its belly is an unnatural dead thing that God hates and they can’t do anything but let it. And your OC wouldn’t even know.

But I’ve never seen that aspect explored before. In fanworks, Ghouling’s just a way for a vampire to have a pet with an extended lifespan. In official material, there’re other important benefits to ghouling animals. Feeding them a little vampire blood every once in a while makes them bigger, faster, and stronger, and since they’re compelled to be loyal to you, they make useful weapons. We’ll see that a few times in this trilogy.

Sumohn senses something dangerous in the park, and you won’t be surprised to learn that the she and her owner aren’t here just for exercise.

“I feel it too,” said Alicia softly, talking to the panther as if it possessed human intelligence. “They’re out there in the park somewhere. Watching and waiting for me. I first sensed their presence when I woke up this morning.

We saw you wake up this morning. You shimmied around in your sheets naked while thinking about how good it was to be alive. Then took a shower and masturbated. But maybe ancient Mesopotamians have a different way of reacting to threats on their life. How would I know?

Someone wants me dead. They’re hiding in the woods. I thought it best to confront them here, on their home ground, instead of chancing their disrupting my plans for the evening.”

She sensed this one threat in Brooklyn all the way from her Manhatten penthouse. Fucking Methuselahs...

Once they’re far enough into the woods for the setting to be dark and ominous even in the afternoon, Varney takes the collar and leash off Sumohn so it can hunt down her enemies.

Chuckling, Alicia tucked the leather strap into her belt. She had complete faith in her pet. It would find and eliminate those who meant her harm. It was just a matter of time.

While Sumohn’s hunting her enemies, Varney decides to take a stroll and enjoy nature. Big business Manhattan garbage had been cutting into her free time, and it’s been months “since she had experienced the feeling of freedom walking in the woods gave her.” She plans on enjoying it as fully and luxuriously as she does everything else, all the while “mentally” keeping an eye out for threats.

Alicia had no desire to be surprised by unexpected visitors. Jackson had been correct when he said that Prospect Heights was no place for a young, unarmed woman. But Alicia was a great deal older than her bodyguard imagined. And she was not nearly as unprotected as Jackson thought.

She hears Sumohn’s “scream of rage” break the silence, meaning her pet had just made a kill. Unfortunately, despite Varney making it sound like the panther would wipe out her enemies on its own, Sumohn worked too slowly. Varney abruptly realizes that she was surrounded by five other people. She can’t see them yet, but she can sense them with her psychic radar power that I’m assuming is an Auspex power. Two of them are heading toward her, so she summons Sumohn back to her. This being a vampire story, she does this with a brief theater kid monologue.

“I refuse to let anyone interrupt my plans,” muttered Alicia angrily. “Death is not an acceptable option at this stage of the game. Sumohn, attend me. There is killing work to be done here.”

The two hostiles reach her.

“Hey, lady?” The speaker was a short, thin man around thirty, dressed in a pair of faded blue jeans. He wore no shirt, despite the cool March weather. A tattoo of a naked woman with an arrow passing through her breasts adorned his hairless chest. Stuck in the waist of his pants was a .45 automatic. “You lost or something?”

“Yeah, said his companion, tall and wide, with a shaven head, pencil-thin eyebrows, and a perpetual leer. He also wore jeans and no shirt. A 12-gauge shotgun, carried loosely in one hand, was his weapon. “Or maybe you’re looking for some action.”

They weren’t called “swarthy,” so these must be white gangbangers.

Varney realizes the assassins plan to rape her before killing her, because this is dark fantasy and rape’s gonna get brought up eventually. There’s some prose about sex and death being linked throughout history, especially hers, then she begins to deal with these guys. Now, you figure she’ll start with one of her vampire powers. Maybe a Presence power, making the gang awed and infatuated with her and drawing them into killing distance. Or maybe she’ll skip messing with their heads and use Celerity to boost her speed and reflexes, swiftly killing them before they can reach for their guns. Or

“Actually,” declared Alicia, taking a tentative step forward, “I was looking for some big, handsome men to satisfy the hunger inside me. I need to be fucked. Repeatedly. Do you two think you can help me?”

...Or that?

“Huh?” said the short man, her reply taking him completely by surprise. His face turned beet red. It was an old trick, but one that still worked. The jerks expected her to cower in fear, beg for mercy–not talk about sex. They weren’t sure how to respond.

Gun her down immediately because this is clearly a trap.

Look, despite how I might come across, I don’t get bothered every time a character does something irrational or wrong in a story. But considering this gang shares their territory with six or seven other gangs and two terrorist groups, and one bad move could get their heads mounted on the park perimeter, there’s no way they should be stupid enough to fall for this. But they do, because the writer wanted to contrive a scene where Alicia Varney “weaponizes her sexuality” I guess.

Varney’s “vulgar declaration” also lures out the three other men, who “didn’t want to miss out on any of the action.” Now all of her enemies are in view, but considering she could sense their presence accurately enough to know exactly how many of them there are, she really didn’t have to.

“You heard me,” said Alicia, raising her voice so that everyone could hear her. “I’m burning up. I want it so bad my body feels like it’s on fire.” She ran her hands up and down her hips, pressing the material of her pants tight against her skin. She moaned passionately. “If I don’t get it quick, I’ll go crazy.”

“Hot damn,” said the big man excitedly, his hands trembling as he fumbled with the buttons of his pants. “The bitch wants to get screwed, and I’m going to nail her right now. The rest of you jokers wait in line, ‘cause I’m first.”

God damn, this is so unnecessary.

The shorter guy struggles with his belt in an attempt to beat his friend to the sex, but thankfully this whole bit comes to an end when Sumohn pounces on him and pulps his head with her jaws. Trusting the panther to take care of the other guy as well, Varney turns to the three other gang members. They try to aim their guns at her, but instead start jerking around “in a ghastly parody of dancing”, unable to shoot her as she approaches.

“What the hell is wrong?” screamed the nearest of the trio, a young black man still in his teens. “I can’t do nothing.”

“A simple matter of paralyzing the part of the brain controlling motor skills,” said Alicia with a smile.

There’re some Thaumatergy powers that could do this, but Varney will turn out to have nothing to do with the Tremere, so it’s unlikely this is any of those. There’s also Paralyzing Glance, an advanced Presence power that can “send someone into a seizure of terror.” Or maybe I’m overthinking it and she’s just generically psychic.

Varney kills the teenager first by tearing out his throat, her technique described more thoroughly than when Makish ripped out a guy’s throat. The second guy, she uses the old “smash his nose cartilage into his brain” move, the second time someone’s been killed that way in this story, and not the last time someone will be in this trilogy. Apparently it’s impossible to do. Even if cartilage was strong enough to penetrate bone, using enough force to do so would likely smash the victim’s skull in anyway. But it sounds cool and Weinberg was probably fond of it. He also seemed to think it would result in a quick death because he described Varney as “merciless but not cruel” before she does it. Anyway, the third guy faints, so Varney snaps his neck while he’s unconscious.

“Very neat, Miss Varney,” said a voice from behind her. “But not really very smart. You let yourself get distracted by the diversions. I’m the real threat.”

Alicia turned, knowing she was too late.

If the assassin who snuck up on you is this chatty and you still don’t turn around by the time he’s finished, you should feel embarrassed.

Sumohn’s too busy tearing apart the guy who was taking his pants off earlier to notice her owner’s in trouble, “a wonderful ally but was too easily tempted” as the narration puts it. This sixth guy, her “true enemy” who somehow evaded her telepathic people sensor, is a well dressed young man already squeezing the trigger on his submachine gun. But instead of Varney dying and ending her role in the story weirdly early, the assassin drops with the handle of a bowie knife sticking out of his back.

“I paralyzed his fingers so he wouldn’t jerk the trigger by accident,” said a blonde man in a white suit and white shirt, walking over to the corpse. Bending down, he jerked the knife out of the body and wiped the blood on the dead man’s clothes.

Hey, Reuben.

He tells Varney that the dead guy was named Leo Taggert, who was headquartered in Coney Island and specialized in “celebrity kills”. The other jerks were local talent he hired. He was also a ghoul who could hide his thoughts, which is why Varney didn’t sense him. Varney asks who Reuban is, thinking he looks familiar yet positive she’d never met him, but Reuben only says he’s “a friend.”

He turned and started walking down the road. “Better call off your pet,” he said in parting. “That man’s quite dead.”

Distracted for an instant, Alicia glanced at Sumohn. When her gaze returned to where the stranger had been, he was gone.

Quickly she mentally scanned the area. Discounting a drug dealer and his teenage customers, there was no one within a hundred yards of her location. It was quite mysterious. Alicia hated mysteries.

Varney asks Sumohn if she saw Reuban, but because she’s a big dumb animal all Sumohn’s thinking about is “blood and death.” And probably mating, because Varney doesn’t seem like the type who spays her pets. She didn’t notice the stranger either during or after the attack, like he appeared and disappeared out of thin air.

“And this SOB,” said Alicia, kicking the dead body of Leo Taggert in frustration, “called me by my name. He was no ordinary assassin hired by my business rivals. He was a ghoul. Which ties him in with the Kindred. And the joker knew enough about me to hide his thoughts. Damn.”

At least her first fight went better than McCann’s. The only thing he has over her in this department is that he didn’t try to distract his would-be assassin with the idea of unexpected sex.

Varney assumes that Jackson’s loyal, so she figures whoever wants her dead has either been watching her closely, or they’re linked to her “friends” at The Devil’s Playground.

First there had been the distressing tiding about Baba Yaga. Now came this assassination attempt, coupled with the appearance of the oddly familiar young man. Alicia wondered grimly what else could go wrong.

It was a question best not asked.

That’s the end of the chapter. Alicia Varney’s “weaponized sexuality” scene in this chapter is the lowest/most awkward this trilogy gets. The good news is, no matter what other dumb things happens, it’s all uphill from here.

#vampire the masquerade #vampire: the masquerade #vtm #world of darkness #blood war

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princess-sora · 6 years ago

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Review: Phantasy Star IV

Some History

Phantasy Star's a series that's been near and dear to me for over half my life. I first got into it via the Phantasy Star Collection for Gameboy Advance, a 2002 collection of the first 3 out of the original 4 games. 1 and 2 were good games for their time, and while they were mechanically rather archaic, their aggressive combination of fantasy and sci-fi captured my 13-year-old imagination something fierce. I'd never seen a setting like it. 3, though... some of its ideas were interesting to me, but not only was it mostly fantasy and very little sci-fi for most of its story, it just plain wasn't very good. I largely left it alone. I never beat any of the games, but they left a massive impression on me.

It wasn't until several years later that I'd discover that I was missing something. They'd cut Phantasy Star 4 out of the collection, presumably for cartridge space/budget reasons... and in doing so, I've since learned, deprived my young self of an incredible experience. When I first learned about Phantasy Star 4, I no longer had the ability to focus on an RPG long enough to complete one. Over multiple tries at it, I only ever got about a third into the game before drifting away. But, now that I can focus on things again, I decided to give it another attempt.

The Review

At its core, Phantasy Star IV is a traditional JRPG, with random encounters, turn-based battles, and a storyline with essentially zero player choice or agency. But it's an exemplar of the genre. Scenario design is overall very well-paced and conveyed; at no point did I feel like I wasn't advancing, or didn't know what to do or where to go. Aside from one specific point near the end of the first third, I didn't feel like grinding was ever necessary--if I felt like I hit a wall, there was some sort of side content to check out that'd get me back on track.

On the subject of side content, Phantasy Star 4 has plenty. The Hunter's Guild has a list of sidequests that open up as the plot progresses, which are a source of money more than anything, as not all of them involve combat. The Hunter's Guild quests are probably one of my bigger quibbles, actually. Like in a lot of RPGs, money ends up being essentially meaningless near the end, so it can be a bit of a gamble to tell whether you'll get anything worthwhile (read: experience or equipment) from the experience.

On top of that, a few of them have remarkably unsatisfying conclusions--off the top of my head, one ends up costing you exactly the amount you later get paid as a reward, and another gives you no money at all, though it does involve a boss battle. I still recommend doing them, however; there's a story to every one, sometimes amusing, and it all serves to make the world feel more lived-in and real.

There are a fair few side dungeons, too, beyond the one or two you visit as part of guild quests. They're optional as well, but almost always worthwhile, giving lore, good equipment, new skills for your Android characters, and often, challenging and lucrative boss fights.

Dungeons, on the whole, are very well-designed. They're generally a bit mazeish, but dead-end branches generally have something interesting at the end of them, and they're never particularly long. Where they really shine, though, is in their structure. The way that they're built gives a sense of place, that despite their gameplay-oriented layouts, they are actually the sort of structure thy claim to be. Caves and some underground dungeons don't quite fit this as well, but for the most part, it's a very strong point. One of the midgame dungeons--an ancient castle built on crumbling, deteriorating foundations--is my favorite example of this. The winding halls feel, in some way, like they were once the grand halls of their ruler. There are dead ends that are simply overlooks from the castle walls, or areas that would present paths if not for the ground crumbling away. They don't have anything at the end, but they aren't long enough to be annoying; it feels like they're just there for versimilitude, to add to the idea that this is a place, something more than a construct for the sake of gameplay.

The game's presentation is top-notch, as well. Sprites on the overworld are clear and well-animated, with cute little touches like every character's walk cycle being a different speed based on height or bulk, and in battle, backgrounds and sprites are *beautifully* detailed, with both party members and enemies having various different animations depending on what they're doing.

The sound design is especially excellent. The sounds of battle are satisfying and impactful, and along with the animations, this gives fights a fantastic "game-feel" that helps keep encounters from becoming stale. That's to say nothing of the music. This is some of the best music to come out of the Genesis' sound hardware, hands-down. It's (mostly) a far cry from the "electro-farts" some people describe the Genesis' sound as, and when it is, it's with a very clear purpose. The compositions are musically complex and fun to listen to, particularly the dungeon and battle themes, whose catchy, interesting tunes do a lot to make up for the fact that you'll be hearing them a lot.

The battle system is presented in a fairly standard style--you see your party members from behind, facing down the enemies, you queue up all of your actions, and the turn progresses roughly in order of agility. Your characters have a wide variety of abilities available to them, divided into two categories, Techs and Skills, both learned as characters level up. Techs draw from a character's pool of TP (basically MP), and are essentially this game's version of magic. Skills are a bit different--with a couple of exceptions, each character's skills are unique, with their own effects or gimmicks, but with the caveat that each one only has a certain number of uses until your next visit to an inn. The game itself, regrettably, doesn’t tell you what techs/skills do what (I suspect that’s in the manual), so don’t be afraid to look them up online.

There's a "macro" system in place, too, allowing you to set up specific sequences of actions for your characters to carry out during a round of battle. At first blush, it'd seem like a more complex version of the genre-standard auto-battle system, but there's another purpose: combination attacks. Certain techs and skills, cast in the right order without enemy interruption, can combine into a more powerful move. As an example, three characters casting the basic fire, ice, and lightning techs together on the same turn will combine to cast "Tri-Blaster," which does higher damage to all enemies. They need to be cast together without being interrupted by enemies, however, meaning you need to keep your characters' agility stats in mind when building and sequencing your macros. There are 14 combo attacks, total, and the game doesn't tell you any of them, so don't be afraid to look those up, either.

The story is fantastic--probably one of the best out of any game I can think of. It was meant from the start to be the end of the story, and it's a tribute and a love letter to the franchise's legacy, while still managing to be accessible and engaging for an unfamiliar player. It deals with death in a way that's rarely been matched, and it raises the stakes from 'investigating monster attacks' at the start to 'destroying ultimate evil' by the end in a way that feels about as natural as you can make that kind of escalation. The protagonist grows visibly over the course of the story, and while most of his his companions are somewhat shallower, there was hardly anyone among the cast I didn't care about, by the ending. The setting feels lived-in and even a bit alive, thanks to guild quests, incidental dialogue that's actually interesting, and various other worldbuilding touches throughout.

The Conclusion

I'm not gonna give this a number. But I will say that Phantasy Star IV is the first RPG I've actually felt driven to beat in years, and I recommend it with absolutely no reservations. In fact, it's on Steam for $1 USD. Buy it. Play it. You won't regret it, I promise.

#review #phantasy star iv #end of the millennium #retro #phantasy star #phantasy star 4 #rpg #genesis #megadrive #jrpg

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istheresomebodywhocanimagine · 5 years ago

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Hi! If you’re still doing them, may I please get a BoRhap/Queen ship? I’m a hetero girl, 26, 158 cm and chubby. I’m trying very hard to overcome my natural shyness and now I feel a lot more comfortable initiating conversations and talking in front of many people (I’m leading uni seminars actually). A huge perfectionist and even bigger nerd. Tomboyish. Don’t like PDA at all and am not a huge believer in true love. I’m a very caring, gentle, calm, kind and friendly person. I love books, films 💕💕

HELOOOOO

sorry im not active a lot yall ugh i’m working every day just so i can manage to pay rent hehe existing is hard

so, as an extension, this ship might be a little shorter than usual,, sad days :(

ships below the cut!

For BoRhap, I ship you with Gwilym Lee!

Gwilym is a complete sucker for soft babes like you! He loves your tomboyish ways and LOVES talking films with you. The height difference? No problem. He loves the fact that you’re so much smaller than him - it makes it easier to spoon ;))))

I’d imagine you and Gwilym would meet at a leadership convention - Gwilym is studying for a role, and you are studying for your seminar. You get paired together on the icebreaker activities and at first you’re both a bit shy - it’s hard to fuck up this bad in front of other people who are trying to be leaders. But on the final one, you really start to get comfortable with each other.

“I can’t believe we got the easiest exercise and we’re still managing to royally screw it up,” Gwilym laughed, glancing around the sidewalk just outside the convention center. You’d been tasked with going around and asking people on the sidewalk if they fit any of the traits listed on a piece of paper that you’d been provided. If they did, they had to sign it.

You were 10 minutes in to the 20 minute exercise - thus far, you’d only got about 2 signatures of the 15 you needed, and one of them was fraudulent.

“No joke,” you laughed, hopelessly staring down at the list for a moment before looking around at the dwindling crowd of people on the sidewalk. You’d hoped it would have been a bit more busy than this, but you’d already pestered these people that were lingering, and the others passed by without even so much as a glance. “Maybe this is a sign that we weren’t meant to be leaders.”

“Oh, don’t say that!” Gwilym replied cheerily, looking down at you with a smile and a glint in his eye. “This exercise is a load of rubbish anyways. I thought you were very leader-y when you convinced that man to sign the first line when he didn’t even like broccoli. You were very persuasive, if I do say so myself.” Giving you a impressed nod, he failed to fight back the growing smile at your amused hopelessness with the entire situation. He admired how you were able to give up when it was time and still laugh about it.

“Leader-y?” you asked teasingly, turning to glance up at him and laughing once before looking back out to the crowd again. He was an interesting sort, handsome and suave and seemingly so oblivious to those traits that he came off as a dorky, puppy dog type. “I don’t think that’s a word, Gwilym.”

“Oh? My mistake.” Crossing his arms, he kept watching you for a moment before a slow grin graced his lips, and you couldn’t help but gaze up at him curiously. Nodding out towards the street, he uncrossed his arms and held out one, offering it for you to take.

You looked at him in disbelief, raising an eyebrow as your eyes flitted between his arm and the boyish twinkle in his eyes. “What are you up to?”

“C’mon, they won’t miss us if we grab a drink down the road, will they? I’m not usually one to skip things like these, but you’re really lovely... and I don’t really want to face our group leader when we come back with an empty page.”

Pressing your lips into a tight line, you tried to consider the ramifications. This wasn’t a university-issued leadership convention, just one that you’d picked up on a whim, but what would you miss out on by skipping? Valuable knowledge and insight?

Gwilym looked like he had a ton of that. He also looked super attractive, and how do you say no to a super attractive Welsh man asking you to grab a drink with him? All while calling you lovely?

“Lovely, you say?” Taking his arm, you took a deep, shaky breath before smiling slightly and shooting him a mildly chastising look that was immediately negated by your growing smile, matched only by his sheepish grin. “Maybe we’ll find someone who is a Sox fan.”

As he led you towards the pub he knew nearby, he launched into an animated conversation about his friend, Joe, who was most definitely not a Sox fan and lived in NYC.

You met Joe. Gwilym was not joking when he said he was not a Sox fan.

In fact, around half a year later, you were in that same pub in London, a sports bar that had begrudgingly agreed to change one of the TVs to a Sox-Yankee game for Joe, who was seated to your left.

Gwilym, who was on your right, had brought you back to this bar once a month since you first ditched that convention. It was a cute little tradition that you enjoyed thoroughly - it reminded you of all the fun you’d had together since you met that giant of man all those months ago.

But your favorite moments weren’t here with him - they were in the privacy of your own homes, curled up together watching some obscure film you both wanted to watch, or reading a book that Gwil had brought home from filming.

“I saw it in this cute little bookstore just off of their main street, and I thought of you immediately!”

Those private moments were the ones you enjoyed the most. That was where you felt secure, his arms wrapped around you as you both chatted on and on about your opinions of the film, his thumb brushing over your knuckles or his finger tucking a piece of hair away from your face. The displays of affection were much more plentiful there.

Right now, he had his right hand resting around the pint of beer in front of him, his left hand resting on the bar right next to your right hand, keeping distance while still managing to be intimate.

He was one and the same - PDA was not his favorite (it was a bit too ‘flashy’, in his opinion), so you both settled for very minute shows of affection. Gwilym’s hand brushed yours for just a moment, a gentle reminder he was there, and you glanced over at him with a smile before turning your attention back to Joe, who was in the middle of talking about some film he was working on when the Sox got a runner batted in.

“Anyways, I have to fly back- No, son of a bitch!” Dropping his head onto the bar, Joe cursed under his breath before hitting his forehead against it a few times, looking mildly pained while Gwil laughed at his antics.

“Mate, they’re just tied. There’s 2 innings left, tons could happen between now and then.”

“Let me mourn!” Joe replied dramatically, giving Gwilym a withering look before returning his attention to the TV screen, forgetting all about his conversation with you. So, you turned to Gwilym, resting your head on your hand and giggling softly.

“I think he’s upset.”

“Just a bit,” Gwilym replied, pinching his fingers together for emphasis, and you giggled again, shaking your head.

“It’s fun having him here for our little monthly date.”

“Fun is the word you’re choosing?” he teased gently, turning just slightly so that his knee bumped up against yours before he started to turn back and forth in the rotating barstool, looking lost in thought. “There are about 100 other words I would use to describe Joe being here right now, but I guess fun is one of them.

“Oh, we’ll have plenty of time together when he goes back to his hotel later,” you chastised softly before leaning over to gently bump him with your shoulder, an affectionate action that made Gwilym grin even wider as he, too, started to watch the Sox game with Joe.

“Imagine what would happen if the Yankees lost.”

Joe interjected immediately.

“I can hear you, you know!”

“Oops.

And for Queen, I ship you with Roger Taylor!

Hear me out!

Roger would be in your uni seminar. You’d be a tad bit older than him, a trait he found attractive. Older women were harder for him to flirt with - they were so secure in themselves that they didn’t quite fall for his boyish charms like younger women did.

At first, he really would just try to send subtle flirtations your way when you were helping lead the seminar classes. A wink, a smile, maybe a note on an activity you had to grade.

“Name: Roger M Taylor. Date: absolutely, when and where? :)”

But your immunity to his work began to intrigue him. And he began to notice things about you that he enjoyed. You had a vast knowledge of films, including one of his recent watches, The Producers. When you mentioned it in class, he was troubled by your distaste for it.

In fact, he was so troubled by it that he showed up at your dorm later that night.

He knew you were an RA on another floor in the building, and he made a point of coming down to your door to challenge your point of view on the movie.

You were shocked to see one of your uni seminar students there, a freshman who you’d constantly shot down standing there in striped shirt and some jeans that honestly looked like they’d been slept in. Knowing his proclivity for occasional naps in class, though, you figured it extended outside of the classroom too.

“Why don’t you like The Producers?” he immediately asked, giving you no time to even greet him as you gazed at him, dumbfounded, from inside your dorm room.

He had a VHS copy of the movie in his hand, and he was waiting patiently for an answer, his long, dark hair mussy and falling around his face haphazardly as he shamelessly stared you down.

“Um, I- Hello, Roger?” you answered, though it came out as more of a question while you stepped outside of the door, letting it close behind you so he couldn’t see the mess you currently had folding laundry.

“Hi, Y/N. Why don’t you like The Producers?” he repeated, clearly not giving up.

“Well, it objectifies women,” you started, and Roger listened intently as you launched into a mini-tirade on the film’s casual homophobia and clear mistreatment of women. When you finally finished, Roger held up the copy and raised an eyebrow.

“Those are all good points. Can I tell you why I like it now?”

And he gave a multi-bullet speech on why he appreciated the film for its original content, non-reliance on shock value, and genius dialogue, which ended in the both of you going to watch it in your dorm so he could point out his favorite parts and you could simultaneously expose the flaws.

Later that night, you were left with a new appreciation for the genius of Mel Brooks, and Roger left with a better understanding of what could have been better. And he also left with your number, which he called frequently in the coming weeks, his words becoming increasingly affectionate.

He went from greeting you as “Ms. Y/N” to “Lovie,” and you found that you didn’t mind the pet name. One thing you did put a ban on was PDA, and he was totally okay with that as long as he had his phone calls with you that probably racked up quite a bill but really didn’t bother either of you.

When the semester was drawing to a wintery close, you found yourself on another late night phone call with him when he sprung an interesting proposition on you.

“Come back to Cornwall with me. Just for a couple days.”

“What?” you asked incredulously, surprised that he was that comfortable with you now. Sure, you’d went on a few dates and had met each other’s friends, but meeting his family? That was a big step. That was a girlfriend thing.

“I’m serious! I want you to meet my parents.”

You considered his words for a moment, finally dismissing it as just crazy talk. “Rog, I think you’re tired. We can talk about this after class tomorrow.”

“No, please hear me out-”

“Good night, Rog,” you cut in, Roger making an annoyed noise before sighing and reciprocating.

“Good night, lovie.”

And you hung up, thinking that was the end of it, but then you heard a knock on your door about 30 minutes later, just as you were about to fall asleep.

Opening the door with a sleepy effort, you came face to face with Roger, who immediately made his way in and sat down in your desk chair, swiveling around to face you.

“Please come to Cornwall.”

You were still half-asleep, confused, and rubbed your eyes in disbelief. Were you dreaming?

The sound of the door jolted you awake a bit more, and you realized you were wide awake as you walked towards your bed, leaning against it and stifling a yawn. “Did you have to ask me this when I look like a sleepy mess?”

Roger was quiet for a moment, then he grinned. “Yes.”

You shot him a nasty look before hoisting yourself up to sit on the lifted dorm bed, slouching over a bit as you rubbed your face. Then, you sat up, leaning back a bit on your hands, and Roger came to stand in front of you, resting a hand on either side of your legs.

“Please? I want my parents to meet my lovely girl.”

“Girl? As in girlfriend?” you asked, in shock as you raised an eyebrow at the audacity. He’d never asked, and you’d never pushed. Shame overtook his face as he smiled sheepishly at you, shrugging a bit as he looked down nervously.

“I just kind of assumed... It felt right. Will you? Be my girlfriend, I mean?”

Pursing your lips for a moment, you considered kicking him out. But the puppy dog eyes were relentless, and you couldn’t stay mad at him as you wrapped your arms around him, leaning forward and sighing.

“Of course. As long as you promise not to tell professor. I might get in a little bit of trouble.”

“Oh, I’m telling her tomorrow. In fact, maybe I should call her right now!”

“Roger!”

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