#YOU CAN’T MAKE A CHARACTER MARKETABLE IF YOU DON’T MARKET HER IN THE FIRST PLACE YOU FUCKS

[jaybirdscoffee]

anybody else notice the startling lack of elita-1 content in most of the transformers one promo stuff?

[princessmisery666]

Just Don't Say You Love Me

Summary: Dean believes you have a good thing going. When you tell him your moving on, he realizes he needs to reassess the relationship and his life before it’s too late.

Warnings/Genres/Troupes: angst, miscommunication, unrequited love, friends with benefits, implied smut, Dean doesn’t get a happy ending. 

W/C: 4,776.

Characters: Dean Winchester, Jody Mills, Sam Winchester. 

Pairing: Dean x fem!reader (you - no descriptions of body type or ethnicity).

Bingo: @jacklesversebingo Square Filled: Just Please Don’t Say You Love Me by Gabrielle Alpin.

A/N: I tried to fix the angst, but it’s not happening, so the unhappy ending will remain (for now). Special shoutout to @kazsrm67 and @pink-sparkly-witch for helping and offering words/comments of encouragement.

Betas: @deanwinchesterswitch // all mistakes remain my own. 

Graphics: made by be on canva. Dividers by @talesmaniac89

Master Lists: JAcklesVerseBingo / Dean Winchester / Main

You knock on Jody’s door, taking a deep breath to calm yourself, some residual adrenaline still playing havoc with your nerves. It’s been a long and insightful day. 

Dean opens the door with a smile, but it quickly morphs into an appreciative grin as his eyes travel the length of your body. “Wow,” he says, “who knew all that was hiding under that uniform.”

You laugh, stepping through the door, not in the least bit phased by his comment. It's not the first time you’ve been told that. “Yeah, that uniform is like an invisibility cloak. I put it on, and no man sees me. Guess you're no exception,” you explain, turning to look at him again. 

“Well, I see you now,” he says, quickly lifting his focus from your ass to your face. “Um, they’re through there,” he gestures for you to go ahead of him. 

“There she is,” Jody says, embracing you with one arm while she places the huge bowl of salad on the table. “How’re you doing?”

“Guess I’m still a little shell-shocked, but I’m okay.” 

“Well, we’re all here to help you…adjust,” Sam offers with a kind smile.

Discovering monsters are, in fact, very real and not just a Halloween marketing ploy is definitely going to be an adjustment. But what choice do you have? These people have given you an in. They’ve let you into their secret club, and honestly, you feel privileged that they trust you and think you are capable enough to help.

If you weren’t capable, neither Jody nor Dean would be here right now, a fact Sam keeps thanking you for over dinner.

“Thank you for being so cool about this,” he says again, lifting his beer bottle to clink it against yours. 

“I’ll freak out later,” you joke, though you probably will. 

“Seriously, you rushed in there, no hesitation, and you held your own,” Jody adds to Sam’s praise. “You certainly proved I picked the right woman for my team.”

“And I can’t thank you enough for that,” you say, genuinely grateful for the opportunity to work with her.

You’ve had some awful bosses and equally shitty jobs over the years, so it's nice to have found Sheriff Mills. Okay, so you’ll be fighting real-life monsters occasionally, but what’s a little compromise? 

They answer all your questions, and you’d be lying if you said it wasn’t a little overwhelming. Dean keeps flashing a tight smile in your direction, and you’re not sure if it's meant to be reassuring or if he’s biting his tongue and trying not to be rude. Regardless of his intention, Jody and the boys’ promises to help you come to grips with it all make it seem manageable.

“Am I going to get to hear the story of how you met those two?” you ask Jody in the kitchen later. 

“Definitely, but not tonight,” she explains, handing you a clean, soapy plate to rinse and dry.

Dean and Sam laugh in the other room, and Jody smiles wistfully. It’s so sweet and motherly it chokes you up a little.  

“The years have not been kind to those boys,” she says, focusing back on the dishes. “They keep their circle small, and I’m grateful that they let me be a part of it, and now you get to join it, too.”

“It’s a damn good-looking circle,” you confess.

Jody chuckles, “Ah, so you noticed Dean as much as he noticed you.” 

“Don’t go all matchmaker on me again,” you warn, “do I need to remind you of the disaster that was Paul?” 

“No, you do not. I’m just making an observation. The circle is indeed good-looking, and Dean has been doing a lot of observing of his own.” 

“Yeah, not sure that’s for the reasons you’re implying,” you say, “Dean doesn’t seem like he wants me to be helping out.”

Dean’s voice startles you, “You saved our asses.” You jump, twisting to look at him, “that’s enough.”

“But if I can do more…”

“The life of a hunter isn’t a life I'd recommend,” he explains, reaching for a beer from the fridge, “ it’s messy and painful and usually ends badly.”

“That’s life in general,” you counter, “and if something is happening and I don’t do anything to help, I’m part of the problem.”

“That’s fine,” he says, throwing his bottle top into the trash. “You’re a bigger part of the problem if you get into a situation you can’t get out of.”

“Dean,” Jody scolds, “take it easy. You said it yourself, she saved our asses today. She’s proven she’s capable.”

“All I’m saying is I’ll help where and if I can,” you explain. “I’m not going to go all Buffy the Vampire Slayer and start patrolling graveyards.”

It’s faint, but a slight quirk tugs his lips, breaking the building tension. 

“Besides, I’m sure our uniform makes us invisible to monsters as well as men.” 

He laughs properly at that, “Not invisible to me anymore,” his tongue sits behind his teeth, and you're suddenly jealous when he wraps his lips around the bottle.

“Good to know,” you say.

You hold each other’s gaze, perhaps a challenge to see who will shy away first. 

“Cool it, you two,” Jody warns, flicking water off the tips of her fingers at you both. 

“Sorry, boss,” you laugh. “And on that note, I’m gonna get going.”

“Need a ride?” Dean asks, a smug smirk in play. 

“I would love one,” you wink, but follow up with, “but it’s a nice night. Think I’m gonna walk, work off some of that wine.” 

“Why don’t you walk her home?” Jody suggests. 

Dean nods, “lead the way.”

When you’d balked, telling Dean you didn’t need an escort, he’d countered, saying he needed the fresh air, but you think it’s more to check up on you and maybe flirt a little more without an audience if your instincts are correct. It’s been nothing but small talk since leaving Jody’s until you're standing on your porch facing one another.

“So how are you really taking all this?” he asks. 

“I had a little freak out before I got to Jody’s,” you answer honestly, “but truthfully, it makes me feel a little better about the world.” 

He huffs a laugh, and his confused frown is adorable. “Okay, that’s a first.” 

“There’s so much evil in the world. It’s scary enough without knowing what I know now,” you explain, adding, “Maybe some of the unexplainable evil that’s all over the news is explainable. Maybe it’s not humans being horrible. Maybe it’s actually something evil.”

“Huh, I never thought of it like that.”

“I’m not saying I’ll remember that the next time a vamp is kicking my ass,” you laugh. 

“Hey,” he scolds, “you agreed, no hunting.” 

You hold your hands up, surrendering. “I won’t go looking for it, but if it comes to Sioux Falls, I’m all over it,” you promise, but your body has other ideas as an overall ache spreads through you as the day's events catch up with you. “Well, maybe in a few days when I’ve recovered from the last one.” Subconsciously, your tongue rolls over the cut on your bottom lip.  

“That hurt?” he asks. 

“I’ve had worse.” You shrug. The way he’s looking at you dulls the sting of the cut, and the tired ache in your bones shifts and reshapes into a simmering itch that needs scratching.

“You gonna be okay?” he asks, pointing over your shoulder toward your door. The implication of you being alone goes unsaid.

“I’ll be fine,” you say, trying not to roll your eyes. “But maybe you want to come in? Have a coffee or something, distract me a little longer so I don’t freak out too much?”

He smiles, wetting his lips. He knows that’s not what you're asking, and you wonder how often the offer of ‘coffee or something’ has been used successfully on him. He looks down at his shuffling feet, heaving a sigh. “I should get back.” 

The hesitation is clear, yet he doesn’t move. A surge of adrenaline spreads through you, and your heart rate increases. When he looks up, catching your eyes, the intensity of the long, loaded pause is enough to make you wonder, if monsters exist, then maybe that electricity everyone talks about is real, too, because it feels like if you touch your hand to Dean’s face, sparks will fly.

“Thanks again for the save today,” he whispers.

“Anytime,” you smile. 

You don’t know who moves first, but suddenly you're as one, mouths connected, exploring the other’s, hands groping and gripping, and your lip stings for a split second, but then Dean has you pinned against your door, and you forget about it.

He pulls away and kisses your neck, “Maybe,” he says, scraping his teeth against your jaw, “we should take this inside.”

Your arrangement with Dean works. No pressure, no expectations. Summer comes, and winter fades, but your relationship remains mutually beneficial. 

He rolls through Sioux Falls, that charming smile - that you’re not sure he knows quite how charming it is - “passing through,” but he stays a few days. He always claims it’s to catch up with Jody and the girls, but he spends most of his time at your place, and it’s too coincidental that you’re never on shift or scheduled for a few days when Baby pulls up outside.

Jody insists she has nothing to do with it. Yes, she's the sheriff, yes, she’s your boss, and makes the rotas, but “The only thing I swing is that I get to work with you,” she’d promised, winking. And you love her for that. Some of the men are still stuck in the past, and though they don’t say it, you can tell they don’t think women can do the job.

If only they knew. You’ve helped on a few hunts now. There’s no doubt in your mind that your relationship with Dean wouldn’t be what it is if you didn’t know about the real evils of the world. But each hunt ended the same: a dead monster and your body beneath Dean’s. 

You're in your room lacing up your little white summer pumps when the Impala’s engine announces his arrival.

You jump to your feet, quickly check yourself in your mirror, smoothing down the already smooth summer dress, and call out, “It’s open,” when his knock echoes around the house.

“Wow, look at you,” he says, freezing partway over the threshold to admire you as you bounce down the stairs.

You deliver your usual greeting, a swift kiss to his lips, and the unmistakable aroma of leather and cheap motel soap assaults your senses - damn, you’ve missed him - but you won’t say it. Instead, you show it, making the kiss deeper.

He shuffles inside, uses your hips to steady himself as he kicks the door closed, and then wraps his arms around your waist to hold you tightly against him. 

Your phone rings, and you fumble to find it on the table by the door, but as soon as you do, Dean releases you, kissing your neck and collarbone. 

“Hey, hi,” you answer. 

“Hey babe,” your best friend sings, and you know it's because she needs something. “Can you grab some ice on your way over?” 

“Yeah, sure, okay.” 

“You okay?” 

No. Yes.

Dean is kneading your breasts, nibbling on the skin that spills out the top of your sundress. “Yeah, just rushing, I’m running late.” 

“So late,” he mumbles into your skin.

“Well, hurry more,” she says before hanging up.

“Oh fuck, Dean, you gotta stop,” you whine. 

He groans, dulling the sting of his bite with a sweet kiss, and pulls back to look at you. “This a bad time, isn’t it?”

You nod, feeling as disappointed as he looks. “It’s my friend's birthday. She’s having a barbeque.” 

He sighs, leaning his head on your shoulder and mumbling into your neck. “Damn it.” 

“I have to at least show my face,” you say, using your hands on his cheeks to pull his head up to look into his eyes. “But you can stay here, take a shower, watch a movie or something, and maybe in a couple of hours, I get a headache and need to come home.” 

Wetting his lips, he smirks before delivering a brief kiss. “Or,” he draws out the syllable, mild hesitation clear in his eyes, “Maybe I can come with you?”

Since Chuck is no longer an issue, Dean has been making an effort to live in the moment, opening himself up, if only a little. So you try to quell the shock of his suggestion. It quickly evolves to a pleased grin when your mind flashes to your friends' faces when you walk in with the infamous Dean. They will lose their shit. You like spending time with Dean but don’t want to cross any lines or make assumptions. “I’d like that,” you smile, “but you really don’t have to.”

“I’m sure I can survive a couple hours with your friends, and you know I can always eat.”

“Okay,” you nod, smile widening. “If you’re sure.” 

He kisses you again, a simple but effective peck on your lips. “But maybe we both get a headache in a couple of hours.” 

“Deal,” you agree, sealing it with another casual kiss. “Maybe lose a few layers. It’s summer.”

He laughs, shrugging off his jacket. “I’m sure I have a clean Fed shirt in the trunk.”

“Perfect,” you say, grabbing your bag and keys. “Want me to drive?” 

He rolls his eyes, jesting, “Did that kiss fry your brain?” as he follows you out the front door.

He opens the passenger door for you, and before you slip inside, you tell him, “Oh, and whatever my friends say I’ve said about you, it’s all lies.”

He grins smugly, “Oh, this is going to be fun.”

The shower has done wonders for your developing hangover. Your friend's barbecue lasted longer than you had anticipated, but the day couldn’t have gone better. 

Dean fit in well with everyone and crushed it at beer pong. It was a success all around, and when you’d quietly asked if he wanted to leave, he’d said no, that he was having too much fun.

The fun continued when you got home, and Dean is undoubtedly still feeling the effects as well. It’s almost midday, and he’s still sound asleep in your bed when you enter your bedroom in clean sweats and your bra while you towel dry your hair. 

Dean is lying on his stomach, with his face smushed adorably against the pillow he’s hugging, taking advantage of all the space now that you’ve vacated.

You crawl across the bed, leaning over him, and he still doesn’t stir. You put your lips close to his ear and half whisper, “Morning.”

His brow instantly creases, and he squeezes his eyes tighter, groaning, “No, no, you have to go away.” 

“You gotta get up. It’s almost midday.”

“Nuh-uh,” he grumbles, eyes still squeezed shut. “You have to take your horrible talking, talky mouth away from me.” 

“Okay, you asked for it.” You laugh, sitting back and wringing your hair out so the excess water drips on his naked back.

“Ah,” he groans, arching up off the mattress.

You jump off the bed, laughing as you walk to the mirror to start doing your hair. Turning over, he rubs a hand over his face and then both through his hair, causing it to stick up adorably. He catches you staring in the mirror, and you quickly avert your eyes. 

“Damn, your friends can drink,” he says, sitting up against the headboard. 

You laugh, that’s an understatement. “They definitely know how to have fun.” 

“They seem like a good bunch.” 

“They liked you too,” you smile at his reflection, and he grins back. “Laura told me to invite you to her and Chris’ wedding.”

His expression shifts, staring off into the distance for a singular moment as if he’s imagining how that would play out. But as quickly as it appears, it drops when he scrubs a hand down his face to put the mask back on. “That’s cool, but I can’t make that kind of commitment.” He swings his legs off the bed, putting his back to you. “I don’t know where I’ll be.”

You hadn’t expected a solid answer, but the double meaning behind his words settles thick disappointment in your stomach. You’ve never asked for any commitment nor discussed the arrangement between you, but hearing him say it aloud singes the hope you always try to contain.

Dean quickly gets to his feet, swaying at the abruptness. “I’m gonna grab a shower.” He mumbles, avoiding eye contact as he heads to the bathroom.

It’s been less than ten minutes, and you’re sitting at the kitchen table, scrolling through your phone, when he finds the courage to face you again. He’s talking to Sam on his phone, obnoxiously loud, as he descends the stairs, trying to make a point of his hasty need to depart.

He appears in the kitchen doorway, jacket in hand, hair dripping onto the shoulders of his henley. You guess you should be grateful he wasn’t cowardly enough to have just shouted goodbye from the door. 

“Listen, I’m sorry about before.” He moves closer to the table, eyeing you as he raps his knuckles on the polished wood. “It’s just that, even with Chuck out of the picture, I’m not sure how things are going to play out. I can’t make any, uh, long-term commitments. Sam and-“

“I get it, Dean.” The last thing you want is any tension between you, so you nip the growing uncomfortableness. “We don’t need to have any awkward conversations.”

He bobs his head, hope swimming in his eyes. “So, we’re good?”

You take your mug to the sink, and once your back is to him, you say, “Yeah, we’re good.”

“You sure?” You didn’t hear him move, but the air shifts behind you, bringing his warmth along with it.

Plastering on a smile, you turn to face him and nod. “Take care of yourself.”

The corner of his mouth curls upward, and he kisses your forehead before heading to the door, “Talk to you soon,” he calls before the door clicks shut.

Fools rush in. Dean is no fool. That doesn’t mean he doesn’t feel like being one sometimes. Usually, it’s when he’s on the road, heading home from a hunt or supply run, he daydreams about how things could be with you. 

The daydream isn’t much different from how things already are. The sex would just be coupled with more official dates – dinner, movies, watching him, which for some reason turns you on, ‘do his thing’ as you call it when he’s hustling suckers at pool. Hell, even grocery shopping. He’d sneak unhealthy snacks into the cart because you promised Sam you’d take care of him, and you would. Dean knows you’d be good to him, that you are good for him. But he’s lived that life. He doesn’t need a wake-up call to know how it ends.

It’s a nice daydream. It gives him a much-needed boost of serotonin when he’s in short supply. But like the gas that fuels Baby, the thought has vaporized by the time he shuts off the engine.

Chuck isn’t calling the shots anymore, but that doesn’t mean the big bads aren’t still gunning for the Winchester's demise. Sam has it all figured out with Eileen, and Dean wishes he could be as sure about what he wants life to look like now. But he can’t be sure of anything, at least not yet. He’s still working on adjusting to a life not consumed by hunting. Trying to come to terms with the fact that there isn’t something lurking around every corner, that the choices he makes – good and bad – are truly his and not fueled by some life-ending curveball Chuck tosses at them. 

The doubts bore deeper, and as always, when he’s drowning in his own head, he thinks of you.

He remembers how you busted down the door with borrowed equipment from Sioux Falls. You’d looked frantic but still in control. Your mere presence had calmed him, and not because you were there to rescue him. You didn’t waste a breath with a witty comment like he would have. You let off two shots, dropped the ghoul about to take a chunk out of him, and then untied him.

You’d been cool and calm, checked him for injuries, but didn’t believe he was truly okay till he kissed you breathless. That adrenaline-filled, kiss-swollen lips, slightly frantic edge to your eyes, is the picture he conjures whenever he thinks of you. 

It’s been a while since he’s seen you. You’ve exchanged a few calls, but now that his mind is stuck on that picture of you, he has to see you.

He shoots Sam a text, telling him he’ll be in Sioux Falls if Sam needs anything, and then pulls an illegal u-turn to put himself in your direction. 

Dean’s not phased that you aren’t home when he shows up. It’s not like he called ahead. He never does. But now that he’s here, he doesn’t want to waste time tracking you down, so he calls. 

“Hey,” you greet brightly.

The smile in your voice brings out his. “Hey, yourself. I’m at your door.” 

“Shit, sorry, I’m not there.”

He chuckles, “Are you around, or does my timing suck again?” 

“No, no, it’s kinda perfect, actually,” you say. “I was gonna call you later anyway. But I need a half hour or so.”

“I can wait.” 

“Greasy Sal’s?” you offer. 

He smiles, already salivating at the thought of a Greasy Sal’s cheeseburger. “Throw in some curly fries,” he requests.  

“Okay, got it,” You laugh.

Dean sits on the Impala’s hood while he waits, head tilted toward the sun, eyes closed while he catches the day’s last rays. The sound of your car’s engine isn’t as distinct as Baby’s, but he knows it well enough that as soon as he hears it, he opens his eyes and watches you turn onto the street. It’s not until that moment that he realizes how eager he is to see you. Maybe Greasy Sal’s can wait; he has another hunger he needs to sate.

He waits till you shut off the engine to open your door, “such a gentleman,” you quip, taking his offered hand to step onto the sidewalk. “Or are you clambering for food?” 

“Not what I’m hungry for,” he says, guiding you against your car. He presses himself against you, feeling the coolness of the air conditioning on your clothes. He circles the tip of your nose with his own, whispering, “Hey,” against your lips before claiming them as his own. 

Frustratingly, you push a hand into his chest after the first brush of his tongue, and he pulls back to look at you. You're looking up at him from under hooded eyes, and he feels like his heart skips a beat, or maybe he’s just a little out of breath. But he knows that with you gazing up at him like he’s a beautiful sunset, he really has missed you. 

“Maybe we should take this inside.”

“Absolutely,” he says, slightly impatient that he can’t get you naked then and there.

He walks to the trunk to get your shopping bags and follows you up the path. He has a bag packed with his essentials but never brings it inside until the next morning. Something about bringing it in before you’ve had sex seems presumptuous, which is crazy because, as per the arrangement, that’s exactly what he’s here for.

“It’s good to see you,” you say, entering your kitchen with him close on your tail.

“Yeah, you too.” He genuinely means it. It’s like things fall into place when he’s around you. 

“How’s Sam?”

“He’s good,” Dean explains, placing the grocery bags on the countertop. “He’s taken Eileen away for a couple days.” 

“Good for them.” 

You unpack the groceries and take a beer from the fridge; as always, it's his favorite brand. Though he never warns you of his pending arrival there is always a supply cooling in the refrigerator and his favorite snacks in the cupboards. 

He takes the open bottle from you, leaning in to deliver another kiss, but you turn to grab more groceries, and he realizes it's a not-so-stealthy way to give him your cheek.

It seems to be the day of revelations because he’s super aware of how easily you flow around each other in the small kitchen. Dean plates up the burgers, grabbing another beer for you from the fridge, and he’s surprised to see that it’s the only one left. That, coupled with the kiss avoidance, gives him pause. Something’s wrong. 

You sit at the table and take a large gulp of the beer. “You okay?” he asks once you’ve swallowed the beer and the nervousness you're exuding. “You seem a little…off.” 

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you say, then inhale deeply before adding, “Actually, no, I’m not. We need to talk. And I hate how cliche that sounds, but I don’t know how else to bring it up, and I don’t want to get all emotional on you, but I need to tell you something.”

He feels the panic fizz in his gut. You can’t be pregnant. He's seen you take birth control, and he uses protection every time. So it can only be one thing …you're about to ruin everything.

You're going to utter those three words, and it's going to be the death blow to all the good stuff between you. 

He takes a swig of his beer, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Please don’t,” he begs, looking you dead square in the eyes. “What we’ve got going on is good, we’re good…” 

“Dean, I …” you try, but he holds a hand up to cut you off.

“Don’t say it.” he pushes his chair back and rubs his hands on his thighs, palms suddenly sweaty. “I like what we have. It works, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t look forward to it or that I don’t miss you. But I just got back a little peace of mind and…” he pauses, clearly searching for the right word, “caring about someone…” he shakes his head, reaching to wrap his hand around his beer bottle. “...Loving me, even with Chuck gone, it doesn’t make it any less of a death sentence. So please don’t say it.”

You reach across the table for his hand, clenched around his beer, but he’s quick to pull back. “Dean,” you choke out, the remorse you feel slipping from your eyes in a single tear. “I’ve met someone.” 

He stares at you, mouth agape, not sure that he heard you correctly. 

“It’s still new,” you continue, rushing to explain as your tears spill. “But it’s going somewhere. Somewhere great, and I don’t want to mess it up.”

Of course, you haven’t been sitting at home waiting for his sporadic visits. You’ve been out living your life as you should be. The possibility of meeting someone else, someone you could say those three words to, and it be a life sentence and not a death sentence, had occurred to him more than once. It poked at him like a swarming gnat, knowing you deserved to find someone better than him, but selfishly, he swatted at it until it went away. 

He’s holding his breath and will get light-headed soon if he doesn’t find the ability to breathe again. 

“Dean,” you coax, “say something.”

He feels as if you’d blindsided him, come out of the left field, and taken his legs out from under him. Now he’s on his back, the wind knocked out of him, and waiting for the feeling in his limbs to return. 

Abruptly he stands. He sees the panic in your eyes and knows what’s coming. As you plead, “Don’t leave,” he says, “I gotta go.”

He strides quickly toward the door. You call his name as he goes, but he doesn’t stop. 

He rushes out your front door, leaves it open, and as he reaches Baby, he has a singular moment of wondering what will hurt the least - holding on or letting go.

“Dean, please,” you call from the door. 

He slides behind the wheel, deciding to let go.

Part 2 - The Right Guy On Paper.

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Master Lists: JAcklesVerseBingo / Dean Winchester / Main

[oursecretways]

Hello!! ☺️

Could I please get #7 with Lee Know 💕

No pressure at all!

7. He calms you down while you're having a panic attack

idol!Lee Know × fem!Reader note(s): ahh of course lovely, hope you enjoy it, I really tried ngl lmao😭 I just love writing gentle and caring Minho content, he can be a bully, but we all know he is there to help anyone he loves 😌 hope you enjoy it ♥ it became a two parter because apparently you can only have so much characters in one tumblr post it is a two parter genre(s): fluff, angst word count: 1.1K (the two part together) warning(s): reader having a panic attack, strong language, toxic work environment being called “baby” and “love” a lot

masterlist ║ invisible ask game ║ part two

It was the most typical day at work: working your ass off so someone higher above, or some older colleague can steal your work, but what made it even worse that your work bestie can’t be here, since she went overseas with her family… “Lucky her” you think to yourself, as you come back from your lunch break, which you wished you wouldn’t have done. Looking back you should’ve said that you aren’t feeling well — which to some degree was true, you know one of those days when everything seems suffocating, much, much darker, and one ugly tone, and you break… yeah it was one of those days. As you sat down at your desk to continue your market research needed for your company new product. Man, you wished you would do what actually excited you: creating the product itself based on the research, but you are only a researcher, which is way more stressful than you like to admit to anyone, especially your boyfriend Minho. You two met him when you first moved to Korea — because you were always fascinated by the countries’ culture, and it was a childhood dream of yours to move to Seoul. Unbeknownst to you, that meant that you meet with a K-pop idol that happened to be your ideal man. When the two of you met, you did not know much about Stray Kids, only heard their song called Hellavator. But now you are a fully pledged STAY, teasing Minho that Ji is your bias every time you get the chance — even tho he secretly agrees and tells you that Han is his bias too.

Once everyone got back to their respected desk, your boss called you into his office, “Y/N, please come, I need to talk to you.” You already know it probably won’t be a talk of a lifetime, especially that he has been even a bigger prick than usual, because your department haven’t been meeting the monthly quota. Making Mr. Whang’s life harder than he would want it to be. “Yes sir? How can help you?” you asked sincerely. You felt your throat dry, and tried to focus on your breathing, believing it to be a little nervousness. The nicer you can act, the easier he would let you off… at least that was your oh so naive thought. He made sure that you know where is your place: six feet under him. He made you feel like you should crawl, especially that you accused his great friend, an honest, hardworking colleague, of stealing your assignment. And you tried to explain it to him that there has been injustice, because he did, in fact, steal your presentation that you have put countless all-nighters in, but he just kept on going. Even scolded you about being so uptight and a prude, how women nowadays suck “Woman nowadays don’t get put into their place well enough. I am sure if I would be that boyfriend of yours, I would teach you to know where is your place.” After that sentence, your view started spinning, as you became very dizzy. The autopilot mode been turned on, and you were agreeing with all he said, but in reality you couldn’t been further away from reality. “You can go, don’t bother for today, you are seemingly useless, not even saying what you think, all you can do is agree, truly useless. I don’t even know how they can hire an intern like you.” You felt as if your chest closing up by the time you got out of his office. If anyone tried to call your name, you couldn’t hear it with your heart beating loudly in your ear. Without noticing, you went straight to the dance studio, where your boyfriend of many years tries his best to come up with new choreography for their comeback. You knew he is alone because Hyunjin is on a fashion show and Felix is in the studio recording his parts.

[otaku553]

Can we ask why you’ve distanced from Genshin? I’m thinking about it bc of the representation issues but was wondering abt ur thoughts

It’s a bit difficult to put this succinctly!

I have a lot of thoughts on this, so I’ll sum up a few on the topic of character design.

I think when most people talk about representation in Genshin, the first thing they talk about is skin tone, which is fair and definitely valid. I think, as someone who has grown up with a lot of East Asian beauty standards around me, what Genshin does is cowardly but understandable from a viewpoint of marketability. I’m sure that they know their lack of representation is controversial overseas, but either this controversy is just giving them more attention and free promotion, or they’ve calculated that the controversy generated won’t actually deal any damage to their profits. That’s mostly why I’m not vocal about it: at best, they scroll past an extra opinion that they’ll probably ignore, and at worst, they’re getting free unintentional advertising out of me.

I will say, though I think plenty of people have made great posts about the representation issues, I think Genshin’s problems with character design and representation go much deeper than just skin color, and have been a growing issue even since Liyue; it’s just gotten exponentially worse with the introduction of Natlan.

I feel like Genshin is actively making regions more modern just to avoid historically accurate cultural representation, and nowhere is this clearer than in Natlan. To begin with, Genshin introduced itself as a historical fantasy, and that is, I think, why it worked so well compared to, say, Honkai— you can tell characters come from the same game due to unified elements such as the Knights of Favonius’s crest as a motif, and the central idea of history. Though the idea of “historical fantasy” is kind of nebulous, since they don’t actually claim to be trying to replicate any real world locations or cultures, you can infer some things about the time period and general location based on the existing technology and architecture and stuff.

But it feels like the moment you get to somewhere not European or East Asian, Genshin starts making designs from a far more modern approach. Some of the Natlan and Sumeru characters, I don’t think I’d be able to place as Genshin characters if I hadn’t played the game. I actually thought that one of the teased Genshin characters for Natlan that I’d seen around online, Citlali, was a Honkai Star Rail character, and was super surprised when I saw her in the Genshin 5.1 trailer. When you can’t even tell that a character belongs to the game you’re designing for, then what are you doing as a character designer?

This is more speculation than anything, but it’s almost as if they’re avoiding proper representation of cultural clothing by making things look modern, and it’s clashing terribly with what they established the game as from the beginning. For fuck’s sake, Mavuika, who’s the archon, meant to represent her nation, is wearing a leather biking suit. She looks so incredibly out of place in the fourth anniversary art of all the 5 archons together. They seem to be losing sight of what made them successful with character designs in the first place just out of a fear to do proper research or make something less than “conventionally aesthetic/attractive.” That’s my main issue, to be honest— not necessarily the skin colors, but the clear lack of thoughtfulness in character design, not only for representation but also for what suits their setting and premise best.

I have a lot more thoughts on Genshin Impact so feel free to send another ask if you’re curious!

[ptn-imagines]

the cute plushies from eve's event live in my head rent free so... sinner's reactions to their s/o getting a plushie of them? with zoya and and langley (although i might come into your inbox asking for more later, it's difficult to choose just a few😭)

Eve's event in general lives rent-free in my head all the time because it had such a profound effect on me (I cried and I know I'm not the only one). Also, hey, congratulations on being the first person to request multiple characters at once! (I filled another request first, but trust me, your ask came in first.)

Reacting to their S/O getting a plushie of them

Zoya

At first, she’s taken aback, because never once in her life did she imagine her image being turned into a marketable plushie.

Once the shock wears off, though, she grins.

“A plushie of me? Kinda cute. More like you than me, though.”

You figure out she’s calling you cute, seeing as the plushie is her spitting image, albeit chibi and adorable.

You kinda figured she’d tease you about it, and she lives up to your expectations. She calls the plushie “Lil’ Zoya” and it’s a near-constant companion for the two of you.

Over time though, Zoya genuinely becomes really attached to the plushie. Your plushie? Sorry, it’s hers now. That’s her child and don’t you dare suggest that it’s any lesser just because it’s felt and cotton. If she had any less dignity she’d probably be buying little outfits for it.

Still, it’s the perfect chance to tease her back. She’ll huff about it jokingly, but take it in good stride. Fair is fair, after all, and as her beloved significant other, you can get away with a lot.

And if you try to tease that she likes Lil’ Zoya more than you, Zoya is more than willing to show you just how beloved you are to her.

Langley

It’s pretty hard to read her reaction at first, so you worry she’s upset with you at first.

Those worries vanish when she finally lets out an amused chuckle and pats you on the shoulder.

“Looks well-made, dear. Where did you get it from?”

You shyly explain that it’s one of Eve’s toys, and Langley nods. “Well, I’m glad this one is just a replica, and not the genuine article, hm?”

You rush to agree with her, a blush forming on your face, and she chuckles again. Of course, she’s just teasing you, you knew that. But you can’t help it. You adore your girlfriend, but she just has this aura…

“You’d best take care of the toy, hm? It would be a shame if something happened to it.”

It sounds like a threat, but you know Langley well enough to know that it isn’t. She wouldn’t threaten a toy. It’d be a very pointless endeavor and you can’t imagine what the plush would have done to earn her ire in the first place. It is, quite literally, just existing.

So yeah, Langley isn’t bothered by the plushie, nor is she as enamored with it as Zoya is. She does think it makes you even cuter, though. Her cute little pet.

[bicheetopuff]

I have the open mind to be proven wrong, but i am not worried over the possibility of Iz/och just being confirmed canon. The story itself has made it pretty clear that these two are not a thing by constantly stopping any kind of romantic activity between them, even by coincidence (the mall scene, the ending scene, etc.) and i think if they were to pick it now it would be a really hard thing to sell.

Also we had the novels, TUMs and four movies already, maybe there will be more in the future, and they haven't developed anything either. At one point i just accepted that they were more worried with other things. Unless Hori decides to pull a JKR that is.

Yeah I agree, I’m not really worried about it. The only way I can see it happening is if bones does something with it to make more money from cishet shonen bros, but I can’t even really see that happening. The animanga industry seems pretty self aware that fujoshis buy the most merchandise. Because of that, animation studios and publishing companies have been marketing their main boys from their more popular series together for decades.

The light novels and TUMs are like the perfect opportunities to add content for izuocha and yet they still just don’t bother. I think Ochako’s crush gets mentioned in the light novels a total of two times out of the 6 volumes that are released. And in the TUMs I don’t think they bring it up at all. Ironically, the OVAs and the movies bring it up the most despite having less time for it and the way they do it kind of makes me mad cuz bones kind of likes to throw their characterizations out the window.

Like in the first movie, it’s just Ochako being really jealous for a solid minute. In the second, they hurt her and had Deku save her and say “you’ll pay for that” which lowkey feels insulting towards horikoshi since he went out of his way to make it so Ochako never has to be damseled like that. And then in the OVAs, that one scene where bones makes it really awkward for them to be in the abandoned mall by themselves? It just felt off cuz they’ve been fine being alone in the past?? And then other than that, it’s just awkwardly placed filler scenes in the anime.

If you’ve followed me for a while, you know I’m not the biggest fan of the non-canon content that bones produces, and honestly the butchering and disrespect towards Ochako’s character is one of the main reasons why. They just go right back to putting her into the misogynistic stereotype that shonen girls are always put into and it makes me wanna fight god

[fancyfeathers]

Can I request a yandere genshin impact character/s of your choice with a reader that's like millie from helluva boss?

I FUCKING LOVE HELLUVA BOSS! THANK YOU ANON, I COULD KISS YOU FOR THIS REQUEST!!!

For those who don’t know what Helluva Boss is or Millie, Helluva Boss is an indie animation series for adults (strong language, sexual references, and so on)

Blitz, a classic demon Imp, sets out to run his own small assassin business with his weapons specialist Moxxie, his bruiser Millie, and his receptionist hellhound Loona. Together, they attempt to survive each other while running a start-up in Hell.

Millie is the powerhouse character who has a sweet and lively personality, she does her job, killing people, and then outside of it she cares deeply for her loved ones.

sorry I hyper fixated for a second, I just love Helliva Boss…

anyway on we go…

Immediately I thought of Wriothesley, a prison warden, a former criminal.

Putting this in the world of Genshin I could see this being a black market business, assassinating people who their clients want dead. This business gives Fontaine officials a headache, not only are the kill sights nightmares to clean up but the perpetrators always seem to slip right out. The reader, in the role of Millie here probably lives a normal life outside of her work, just a normal unsuspecting citizen of Fontaine, perhaps originally from somewhere else like Natlan.

Wriothesley will be out one day, either before and on his way to a meeting with the Iudex of Fontaine or right after when he meets her. His darling will be perhaps walking the street, chatting next to someone, a friend perhaps, next to her happily. At first he is taken with her outgoing personality, even going out of his way to make a fool of himself, acting like he doesn’t know where Neuvillette’s office is and needing directions.

He can’t get her off his mind even during his meeting with Neuvillette on a group of assassins that have been silently lurking on the streets on Fontaine.

When he meets her again, it’s under very different circumstances. He was on his away to take a criminal into custody when he hears a scream followed by a gunshot. He rushes to where he heard it, only to see his darling standing over a body, talking to someone nonchalantly, as if this was just another day.

He doesn’t confront her right away, no he follows her back to where this organization’s headquarters are. He then goes to report it to Neuvillette, then the next thing you know Fontaine law enforcement has you and your colleagues under arrest.

Of course you are all guilty, and you find yourself being transferred into the Fortress of Meropide where Wriothesley has you places under pretty much isolation. Being treated different than the other prisoners where you can only see him and maybe a few other guards. He says it is to keep you and your colleagues apart, but in reality they’re walking around the fortress just fine. It’s just to you, special treatment…

[stitched-mouth]

Madame Web Production BS

Just to be clear, I love this movie. But I love talking about what a dumpster fire it was behind the scenes so let me point everything wrong with my favourite of the year so far. SPOILERS!

• Cass’s personality is not fleshed out… that’s a major problem. I feel like they just told Dakota Johnson to do what she wants the whole movie BUT then right at they end they decide to give Cass a personality completely ripped from the comics. And it doesn’t work with the way Dakota was playing her the whole movie and these no character development over the course of the movie, so it’s actually a little scary seeing her switch at the end.

• None of the characters have a personality actually. The villain was the worst to be fair because I still don’t really understand his motives. Like… you tricked and murdered a pregnant woman and a few others because your family was poor? And you think Spidey strength will fix that? Um, ok. So is mine but I don’t know.. wouldn’t kill anybody over it though.

• I hate Sydney Sweeney’s image. And it’s not her or her marketing teams fault. It’s her fans’ and her directors. She’s constantly purposely dressed sexy in movies (even when dressed down like a nerd, she’s still sexualised) but then is playing a child. Like wtf. They did it to her in Euphoria and they’ve done it to her again in Madame Web. And how Sydney dresses for press also is clearly influenced by directors and fans’, like the look isn’t just what they want for her characters but also how she’s expected to be irl too. It’s kind of sick and related to how paedophilic things are still normalised in our society today, I’ll have to say that rant for another day though.

• Why does it feel like nobody cared about this movie? The script feels like the first draft that was supposed to have rewrites but nobody was bothered. Same with the editing, everything but especially the dialogue and music feels so placeholder, why was it in the finished project? Like even the Google cast page is not finished, only the leads have their character names on there. Zosia Mament (the villain’s assistant) is credited as fucking ‘Actress’.

• Why was Cassie able to fly to Peru when she’s a wanted criminal? Why is she flying to Peru when talking about laying low because she’s a WANTED CRIMINAL??!

• The writers constantly forgetting what year it is was hilarious and the editors just throwing one Brittney Spears song in and a few Beyonce billboards in to cover up their mistake is also hilarious.

• ACTUALLY, apparently the whole reason the movie was set in 2003 was because the director really wanted to use Toxic in the movie. Because apparently you can’t play a song in a movie if the movie doesn’t take place in the same year the song was released 🤡

• BUT Toxic was released in 2004 🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡

• The writers taking the time setting as a opportunity to reference Garfield’s Spider-Man but then also forgetting that that SM was born in 1995 🤡🤡🤡🤡

• Yes I checked, they specifically wanted to reference Garfield’s Spidey, but through editing they realised their mistake and started trying to make it look like they were talking about Tom Holland’s SM instead, which risks breaking some rules with Marvel… AND THAT SPIDEY WAS BORN IN 2001 SO THEY STILL FUCKED UP. The fact that a simple Google and common sense (like they must of know Garfield’s fist SM movie took place in 2012 and if he was born in 2003, he would of been only 9 years old in 2012 😑) would of fixed this problem is again hilarious.

• Obviously the biggest goof was Dakota Johnson not realising she’s not in a Marvel movie and firing her agent the same day the trailer got dropped 🤡

• She also might be in trouble for posting the teaser on her Instagram and tagging Marvel before the trailer dropped (so before she found out), but I don’t think Dakota manages her own socials tbh. That post was removed then put back up without a Marvel tag.

• The press tour is amazingly bad, I love it.

• Not seeing the girls turn or become heroes was probably the worst part about this movie but I knew that going in so didn’t mind too much. But the real issue is with how Sony keeps straight up lying to their audience with their trailers. Obviously some studios add somethings into their trailer to create more interest for the audience but that’s not what Sony is doing, they are straight up LYING. And they do it so often now I want to fight whoever is in charge of that, they are the reason this movie flopped.

• Them and the writers… and whoever decided to hire the Morbius writers again, everyone there deserves to lose their jobs.

• The only reason I want this movie to do well is because I want Madame Web to have more movies with Dakota Johnson, Sydney Sweeney, Adam Scott, Isabella Mercer, Emma Roberts and Celeste O’Connor all returning. But I really don’t see that happening now, I can’t see Dakota signing another contract with Sony or doing everything to get out of this contract if it’s not over yet.

• The fact that they had to dub the villain’s lines makes me so confused to why he was hired? He didn’t even give a good performance, not saying he’s a bad actor (I’ve heard he’s great on other movies), but he really didn’t do anything in MW.

• And the part with the FBI agent and the villain had me so confused too. Like, did she seduce him to find out information about him? Because it makes sense that the FBI would be suspicious of this guy. But then did he see through her act and decide to at least get laid before killing her and stealing her passcode? But everyone is saying he seduce her for her passcodes and yeah I’m confused.

• The problem is the pacing and how everything that needs explaining isn’t, but everything that doesn’t need an explanation IS explained. And too much.

“He worked with my Mom in this place looking for this spider right before she died”

That’s not the exact quote but it’s pretty close to and that’s less than 5 minutes in. Ok thanks spoiling the whole movie to me. I really didn’t know a movie could spoil the movie to me.

• I’ll add more to this post when I remember more bs this movie endured or forced me to endure, feel free to add to this list in the comments or reposts.

[starstruckkittensweets]

“Letters to My Love” | Hanji x Reader

Fandom: Attack on Titan  Pairing: Hanji x Reader  Words: 4k 

A/N: This is a self-indulgent, completely unfiltered, messy little fic that deals with my love for Hanji. Ever since I started reading AoT back in 2015, I’ve had a soft spot for Hanji. My little ray of sunshine, one of my first comfort characters, the one character I could actually see myself becoming friends with in real life. Seeing her death finally animated (beautifully) brought a lot of feelings forward. She was brave and gorgeous and kind and absolutely amazing. It actually feels like I’m saying farewell to a close friend of mine. And so this messy fic was born, mostly unedited but with a lot of my personal feelings channeled into the reader’s POV. You can read this as either a platonic or romantic relationship, whatever floats your boat. I hope you enjoy the fic! 

Warnings: lots of angst, major character death, implied reader death, some blood and violence, struggling to cope with grief, post-war/post-snk 139 world, Hanji is referred to as female with she/her pronouns 

THIS FIC CONTAINS SPOILERS FOR AOT S4 PART 3 (AND THE UPCOMING PART 4) AND SNK 139! PLEASE DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE NOT ALL CAUGHT UP, READ AT YOUR OWN RISK! 

It’s all so stupid. A stupid idea, a stupid reason behind it, a stupid man telling you about it in the first place. Why even bother with this in the first place? It’s not like it’ll help you in the long run.

But Falco’s still staring up at you with those big eyes, the slightest quiver of his lip, arms stretched out towards your own.

“Please?” His voice is unnaturally soft; it might be the lighting, but you can almost see a tear in those huge eyes. “At least try it, won’t you? I promise, you’ll feel better. Just like Dad says.”

You don’t have the heart to tell the kid his father’s full of shit, just like everyone else in this horrible world. Nothing’s left for you to enjoy, nothing you can cling to during the tough times. Those days are gone, the memories of bliss vanishing with every passing day.

But he looks so sad, so fucking hopeful, as though he still believes you can do it. You can lift this crushing weight off your chest with just a pen, some paper, and a few words every day.

“…Fine.” He practically shoves the dusty old notebook into your chest with a smile. “I’ll give it a shot.”

You’ll try, but you already know it’s a waste of time.

I’m not good at this. Writing’s never been my strong suit—not when it comes to other people. But you already know knew that, didn’t you?

Mr. Grice gave me the idea. Says writing everything down is a lot better than saying it out loud sometimes. Falco said the same thing; he still writes to his brother every other week. 

I don’t understand why. It’s not like I’ll ever send them, they’re just gonna sit in my desk collecting dust. But I told Falco I’d try for him. He’s a sweet kid, I can see why you like liked him. Sorry, it’s a habit. 

I don’t know what else to say. I guess I’ll try again tomorrow.

It’s me again. Onyankopon came to visit again. He checks up on me at least once every week. Same day, same time. It’s like he doesn’t trust me. Maybe he’s just looking out for me. That’s what Levi says.

Things are slowly going back to normal. He says it’s been almost five months since you left the battle. It’ll be spring soon. This winter hasn’t been too bad though. I miss the snow a little bit. Maybe one day we can go further north to see some next year. I know Gabi and Falco would enjoy it.

I can’t think of anything else to write down. I’m sure I’ll be back soon though.

Mundane topics. What you ate today. Who you saw at the market. The stories Gabi and Falco would make up whenever they were bored.

It’s all so stupid, but you write it down anyway. Stuff she’d like, stuff she wouldn’t like. Not her name, never her name. You can’t bear to say it out loud, not even spell out the letters without bursting into a fit of sobs. What’s the point, anyway? Not like she’s here to answer her own name anymore.

Still, you keep writing. Every day, at least something goes down in that little brown notebook. You’re the only one who reads it. Mr. Grice refuses to, says it’s for your eyes only. Falco sometimes shares what he’s written to his brother, but only when the two of you are alone. He has a little brown book of his own, same shape and size too. Always keeps it in the first drawer of his nightstand, same place you keep yours.

The days crawl by. Every breath hurts less and less. Slowly but surely, you wonder if you’re actually getting better.

I thought of you today. The kids wanted to stop in a bookstore during our shopping trip so I let them. They can be so eager and hyper when they want to be. (Why can’t they be like that when it comes to their chores?)

They both went for the bookshelf in the far corner. Books about the world; about weapons, inventions, plants, animals, experiments, I couldn’t keep track of how many there were. And the kids just sat there for hours, leafing through book after book. I ended up leaving just to drop off the groceries at home before heading back to pick them up. And when I got there they were still poring over those dusty, wrinkled pages.

You would like the bookstore. It’s on the smaller side but it doesn’t feel crowded. It’s got a few benches for people to sit and read for a bit, and there’s a café right next door too. But when I told Levi about it he got a little snippy; I think he’s jealous, his tea shop will always be superior.

He’s doing okay, I know you’re probably worried about him. His leg still gives him trouble but he’s getting better every day. He gave me a job after the shop opened a few weeks ago. Right now I’m just cleaning off tables and fixing up pastries in the back. Gabi handles inventory with Levi (she’s actually pretty good at it) and Falco takes care of the customers up front. He has the best attitude out of all of us, I think. The job is a bit boring sometimes but it beats killing Titans, using ODM gear, being a soldier

Never mind. I’ll write more later, I have to go for now. I’ll be back.

It’s really warm today. I keep thinking about that summer we spent in Krolva, in 848. You kept hunting for strange plants and flowers in the forest and had me and Moblit chasing after you all day! But you didn’t stop, not even when Levi threatened to knock you out and haul you back to base.

Sometimes I can still see Erwin’s smile, hear Mike and Nanaba’s laughter, feel the light summer breeze against my face.

I can still remember the way you said my name. I miss hearing the sound of your voice.

For the first time in a long while, you wake up with a smile on your face.

Your cheeks are stained with tears, still. You haven’t gone to sleep silently once in the past six months or so. Always stuffing your face into the pillow, muffling your sobs, praying neither Levi nor the kids hear you being so pathetic.

Your head is pounding, throat tight but chest feeling lighter than ever. You have to write it down, you don’t wanna forget, don’t forget—

The notebook is resting on your dresser. Your hands still shake when you reach for it, almost clatters to the floor when you try to pick it up. The pen leaps from your trembling fingers. The first words you write are barely legible, but you don’t stop writing for anything.

I had a dream about you last night. I can’t remember everything but I know you were in it and you were still alive smiling.

Still had both eyes, silly girl.

None of our comrades were there; no Levi, Moblit, or Mike. Just me and you, sitting on the rooftop of the old Survey Corps base, watching the stars twinkle above us. Your arm was so warm against my shoulders. Your messy hair tickling my cheek. You were laughing about something, I can’t remember what. But you looked so happy, so carefree and joyful. You haven’t looked that relaxed in years.

You whispered something in my ear, and my throat exploded with laughter. You held me close, lips brushing my cheek, eyes shining in the glowing moonlight.

You were happy, so I was happy.

But then I woke up, you were gone, and I was cold again.

Summer’s almost halfway over. The tea shop has been busier, Levi seems to enjoy the success. He’s still not very sociable but he’s learning to be more pleasant with the customers. They’ll keep coming back if he’s not rude to them all the time.

The town is expanding. Onyankopon thinks one of the nearby cities will start offering jobs, either railroad work or seamstress positions. A lot of factory jobs will start coming back too, and they’ll pay well. He says I could apply, just to keep my hands busy. Says it’s good to get out of the country once in a while.

Still undecided, I’d be going alone. Levi refuses, he hates the idea of city living, and he has the tea shop to worry about. The kids would stay with them; Gabi doesn’t like the smell of smoke, and Falco wouldn’t go anywhere without her. I can go, I don’t have anything tying me down.

What do you think I should do?

Four weeks left. It’s getting harder and harder to keep writing. I thought it would get easier, like Falco said. But I still feel that horrible pit deep in my chest. A weight that’s making it harder to breathe every day.

I don’t know what to do. I’m a burden. I can’t do anything on my own anymore. It’s always Levi or Onyankopon who’s there to hold my hand. Always Gabi and Falco to bring me back, remind me I have to keep living, to keep my head out of the clouds. But sometimes I wish I could run away. Leave it all behind. Maybe that city idea doesn’t seem so bad.

I wish you were here with me.

August 22nd. Two weeks to go.

Levi’s been quieter nowadays. Onyankopon isn’t as eager when he’s talking about the recovering towns and cities. Even the kids are more solemn than usual.

Still hoping this is all a bad dream. That I’ll wake up and you’ll be at my side, smiling and laughing like you do. Not a single care in the world.

The calendar is torn to shreds, left on the kitchen table for everyone to see. Gabi is utterly silent, a far cry from her usual loudmouthed self. Falco is quick to pull her aside as you storm past them, down the hall and into your room, slamming the door with a thud.

Burying your face in your hands. Chest wracked with sobs. Throat burning as her name rips itself from your mouth.

Hanji.

Stop it.

Your back hits the wall, knees buckling beneath your weight. Nails tear at the roots of your hair, scraping down your cheeks, eyes growing warm even though you keep them shut.

Hanji.

Another scream, you throw yourself against the wall. Your shoulder collides with the bookcase, but the pain doesn’t help. Nothing helps you anymore, not even writing in that shitty little book—

Someone’s calling your name on the other side of the door. Tiny fists pound on the wood; the knob twists and turns in vain. You made sure to lock it after coming in here.

Stop it. Can’t they see you want to be left alone?

Alone. You’re all alone now. You have no one left.

No parents, no children, no comrades…

And no other half.

Hanji.

“Stop it!” But you can still hear her name, swirling around in your head, a chorus of a thousand voices.

Hanji, Hanji, Hanji.

“Leave me alone!”

Something shatters against the wall. Your palm stings with something fierce, a shadow of red seeping from the skin.

The book, the book, where is it? Where did you put it?

There it is—right on your bed where you left it last. You’re scrambling over broken glass to grab at it, bloody fingers clutching the pen stuck between the pages. The tears are hot against your cheeks. Hurt like nothing else, not even the pain in your chest.

And they just keep on coming as you keep on writing.

Why did you leave me? Why did you have to go? Why did you have to kill kill yourself like that?

We could’ve handled it. Without your help. Maybe if you’d let us you’d still be alive with me. If you’d just trusted me—why didn’t you trust me? I trusted you, why didn’t you return the favor?

It’s your fault I’m like this now. I was fine before but then you fucked it all up.

Did you think you were some kind of hero? You’re not. Going out in a blaze of glory? Selfish asshole.

You’re not. You never were. You left me and now I’m alone and I hate

I hate you.

I hate you I hate you I hate you didn’t have to leave me but you did and now I hate you I can’t believe I love loved you how could I ever love someone so selfish fuck you so selfish

I HATE YOU

YOU DIDN’T HAVE TO DIE WHY AREN’T YOU HERE WITH ME ANYMORE WHAT DID I DO TO MAKE YOU LEAVE TO MAKE YOU GO WHY WHY WHY

I STILL HATE YOU

Levi finds you hours later. Sitting on the floor at the foot of your bed, hands trembling against your knees. The book is lying halfway across the room. Must’ve thrown it earlier.

He heaves a sigh, dragging his hand across his scarred face. And despite the ache in his leg he still kneels down to your level, taking a seat beside you against the bed. Wrapping up your hands in one of the spare shirts you tore from the dresser just minutes before.

“Brats were worried,” he finally says, and he sounds so fucking tired. There’s an inkling of guilt blooming in your chest. Such a burden to him, as always. “Said you’d run off and started crying.”

“…So?”

He rolls his eyes, focusing on your bloodied hands. They’re dry now, and he makes a sound of disgust in the back of his throat.

Eventually he pulls you on your feet, leads you to the washroom and runs your hands under the warm water. He wraps up your hands in some clean bandages; over his shoulder you can see two sets of eyes staring at you from down the hall. One brown, one hazel.

“Quit beating yourself up like this. That’s not what she died for, brat. And don’t ask me,” he snaps when I open my mouth, “what she died for. Because you and I both know the answer to that. …So don’t make me say it.”

You’re still blubbering like a child, fat tears rolling down your cheeks, splashing onto the clean bandages around your hands. Levi sighs again before pulling you in close, one arm looped around your shoulders. His chest is warm, heart strong against your palm.

But it��s nothing compared to hers—and the thought makes you cry even harder.

“I get it.” His lips are warm against your forehead, hand cupping around the back of your head. “I miss her, too.”

You’re not sure when he makes you leave the washroom. But once he does he brings you down to the kitchen, giving Gabi and Falco each a pat on their heads. You give them a smile, tears still fresh in your eyes, before gathering the torn pieces of the calendar in your bruised hands.

Maybe you can fix this. It’s the fifth of September, after all. Not a day you want to forget just yet.

I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean it, I swear on my life. I wanna rip those pages out but I’ll lose the other letters and I don’t want to lose them like I lost you.

I don’t hate you. You’re not selfish, you never were. I know you did the best you could as Commander of the Survey Corps, with the incredible weight on your shoulders. Your main priority was always keeping us safe and giving us hope.

I know why you left that day. But I wish you hadn’t left me behind. I could’ve gone with you, helped you out that day. We could still be together dead or alive.

I love you. I wish I could’ve said it when you were still alive with me. I wish I could say it to your face instead of writing it down in a dusty old notebook.

I love you. I miss you. I wish I could see your smile one last time. Hear your voice again. See the beautiful shine in your eyes.

Because I love you, and I always have. Maybe someday I’ll see you again and tell you face-to-face. Maybe by then I won’t be such a coward.

Hope you enjoy your birthday up there.

Every day brings something new. Smells, tastes, sounds, even the wind outside is different every day. People passing each other hour after hour, car horns filling your ears, the sting of smoke deep in your lungs; it’s easy to get lost in the atmosphere.

You take it in stride. Onyankopon is standing there, holding out his hand, ready to guide you deeper into the city. He’s offered to carry your suitcase but you insisted you do it yourself; too many memories are stuffed in between the clothes inside.

You suck in a breath and take his hand. A little awkward, with a suitcase in your other hand, and the old tattered notebook resting in the crook of your elbow. But the damn thing has already wormed its way into your heart, no way are you leaving it behind now.

A tight swallow, a soft smile from Onyankopon, as you let him lead you towards the next chapter of your life.

City life isn’t as hard as I thought it would be. It’s busy and crowded but it keeps me looking forward. No time to dwell on the past here. Maybe that’s why Onyankopon was so adamant about me living here.

There’s a bookstore here, much larger than the one back home where Levi and the kids live. It pays well, the owner’s nice, and she lets me borrow some of her own books from her personal collection from time to time.

She wears glasses too—not as cute as yours, though.

I try to visit Levi and the kids every other weekend. Gabi and Falco come to visit once in a while but Levi always stays behind. Blames it on the bad leg but we both know the truth. Too many bad memories of Mitras has made him wary of crowded cities.

But I like it. I have my own apartment, right next door to Onyankopon’s, with a balcony and a slew of potted plants. Onyankopon says some people like to name their plants just for the fun of it. The two sitting on the windowsill are Sawney and Bean. (You’re welcome, silly girl.)

It’s hard work but I’m getting better. I don’t dread writing in this book anymore. I can think of your smile without bursting into tears. For now I’m content to sit back and enjoy city life, until whatever god watching over us decides my time is up.

I promise to write soon; have to head to work now. I’ll be back.

It’s been a year since you left me. I still want to see you again.

Onyankopon and I are heading into town for a few days to visit Levi. He says he doesn’t need help around the shop but he never complains whenever I show up at his door. Sometimes I wonder if he feels obligated to put up with me. If he thinks you’ll haunt him forever if he turns me away. That sounds like something you would do, silly girl.

I had another dream about you last night. Right after the celebration for Shiganshina, the night before the expedition to reclaim Wall Maria. We were laughing and drinking and sharing old stories—but we weren’t alone. Erwin and Levi were there. So was Moblit, and by some miracle, so were Mike and Nanaba.

I hope we’ll all be together again soon. I hope they’re all watching us, waiting to see what we’ll do with this new world we’ve forged for ourselves.

I know you are. You’re always watching, aren’t you?

I have to go now, or Onyankopon will head out without me. I’ll let you know how Levi and the kids are when I come home.

Miss you more every day. I hope I’ll get to see you again soon. Until then, I’ll just have to keep writing these silly little letters. I think you’d like them anyways.

See you later, Hanji.

It’s bright when you open your eyes. Too bright, a soft breeze kissing your cheeks, nose scrunching up as you shield your face with your hands. Funny, you don’t remember leaving the window open when you fell asleep. Or sleeping outside, for that matter.

You’re lying in the grass, a bed of wildflowers sprawled beneath you. There’s a forest at the edge of the valley, close enough for you to see the shadows of animals spilling across the trees. The sun is warm on your skin, so bright and beautiful, not a single cloud in the sky.

Almost too good to be true.

Is this it? Have you finally reached the end of your line? All those days with Levi, Onyankopon, and the kids, moving from town to city for work, seeing what little of the new world you could for both you and your other half…

Has your time finally run out?

“Hey, over here!”

Your blood freezes in your veins. A shadow crosses yours in the warm sunlight. A heavy cape blows in the wind, a dark green to match the forest beyond the meadow.

A pair of wings splashed against the fabric. Messy brown hair tied up haphazardly. Shiny glasses reflecting in the sun. Warm brown eyes that remind you of home.

“I was wondering when you’d get here. It’s been kinda lonely, I have to say…”

Hanji Zoe is standing right there in front of you, looking as radiant as ever. No scars or bruises to be seen, nor the black patch over her left eye. No burns or charred fabric on her body.

She looks…happy. Safe, content.

Alive.

“…Dumbass,” you finally find your voice, rushing into her outstretched arms. “You had me worried sick! Are you hurt? Can I do anything for you? I swear, I won’t let you go anywhere alone ever again! I’ll be right there by your side for as long as you—”

“Hey, hey, hey, come on now! You’re gonna make me blush with all that sweet talk!”

But you can’t stop yourself. And before you know it you’re sobbing into her chest, arms wrapped tight around her wrist, feeling the soft b-bmp of her heart against your ear.

“Love you, you know that? I love you, so please don’t leave me again…”

You’ll say it over and over, as many times as she wants to hear it. But for right now she’s silent, her arms resting around your waist and shoulders, tugging you in for a bone-crushing hug. Her messy hair is tickling your nose again, her smile could rival the sun in the sky. She shakes her head and lets out a laugh, before pressing a warm kiss to the apple of your cheek.

“I won’t ever leave you again, alright? I’m sorry about that, I never meant to hurt you. I didn’t mean to leave you like that…”

You hold her tighter, knocking her down into the wildflowers below. She lets out a real laugh this time, hair sticking out like a halo above her head, palms against your cheeks. For the first time in months—no, years—your chest feels whole again.

“I know you didn’t. It’s okay, I promise, it’s okay…”

A comforting silence washes over the two of you. It’s so warm right here, in this little meadow of your own, surrounded by a thousand wildflowers. She’s finally safe in your arms, after all these years, and you are never letting her go ever again.

“…I love you, Hanji.”

“I know,” she answers with a smile that makes your heart soar, “and I love you too.”

[slytherheign]

WORTH THE PAIN | tasm!peter parker

PART 4/5 OF WORTH: THE SERIES.

PAIRING: tasm!peter parker x fem!reader

WORD COUNT: 4.7k

SUMMARY: trusts are broken and tensions rise as everyone’s secrets start to reveal themselves.

WARNINGS: sexual assault, character death, manipulation, stalking, cursing, violence, and canon-typical injuries. let me know if i missed any warnings. [⚠︎︎RATING: 17+]

AUTHOR’S NOTE: please remember that this is fan fiction and so some characters here will not act exactly the same way as their original material. this is my own twist and take of those characters.

DESTINATION: Angst Avenue | GO TO SERIES MASTERLIST or GO BACK TO THE STATION.

"Peter, please calm down,” Charlene pleaded with worry evident in her tone.

To say that the apartment was a mess would be an understatement. 

Peter spent the last 15 minutes frantically trying to find his missing phone while Charlene tried to calm him down. Carlos merely stared at the mess, completely frozen. It was the first time the couple had seen Peter like this. And him crawling around the place with his spider-like abilities made the situation more intense.  

“Oh, for the love of Go–PETER!” she bellowed. Peter stopped for a moment, glancing at her before going back to making a mess. Charlene had enough; she knew Peter was not in his right state of mind, and panicking would not help them make any progress on the case. She slightly nudged Carlos for help, but her partner was glued to his place, still shocked by the sudden change in Peter’s behavior. 

And to think that all it took was a name for Peter to behave like this.

“Peter, please,” she tried once again. “We can’t draw conclusions immediately. I know you’re really worried about her right now, but we have to be smart about all of this.”

Carlos seemed to be back on track. “She’s right. Come on, Parker. Let’s talk about what you know first, and then we’ll worry about your phone later, okay?”

Peter stopped all at once, drawing a long, shaky sigh. They were right. He had to calm down. He turned around, facing the couple, only to see them staring at what was once their living room. Confused, he followed their line of vision only to see the chaotic result of his trance earlier.

Every single cabinet door was open, with the stuff inside disorganized. The center table, its centerpiece, and the books Charlene kept under it were also not spared. And the couch… well… the pillows were out of their pillowcases, which were now on the floor along with the cushions. To keep things short, the room was not looking good.

“Shit–sorry,” he apologized, feeling embarrassed. How could he let himself act like that?

“We’ll fix it later,” Charlene reassured him. Peter looked at her like she had grown a second head. “Are you sure?” he asked.

“Yeah,” she smiled, a hint of sadness in her voice that did not go unnoticed by her husband. Carlos knew damn well why Charlene was so kind and understanding to Peter, and it made him feel a little sad for his wife. “So, what do you know?” she asked Peter.

“Y/N works at a marketing company, and she once mentioned her HR manager was named ‘Mitch.’ If I’m correct, Mitch is Mitchell Gargan, who just happens to work at Greta Marketing Co.”

“That makes sense. But again, he’s innocent until proven guilty. We need proof that it’s really him. Besides, there’s also his twin… Mac Gargan. MG could be him,” Carlos added.

“Where’s Mitch now?” Charlene asked.

“I don’t know,” Peter’s shoulders slumped. He was beginning to think that maybe he wasn’t much help to them. He desperately wanted to help more, but even his knowledge was limited. And because the case was extremely personal to him, he wasn’t exactly the best person to lead the team. He was left with one last option now: to let Charlene and Carlos lead the entire thing.

“Then let’s start with who we know. Mac Gargan. You said he was hired by Jonah Jameson, right?” Carlos asked.

He nodded. “A private investigator hired to inspect me. But I have no idea where he is now.”

“That may be true,” Charlene started to think of another way, “but we know where Jameson is.”

“There we go. A starting point,” Carlos agreed. “Let’s start planning.”

DAYS LATER.

“I still have no idea how we got past the guards so fast,” Carlos mumbled. The three were walking down the hallways inside the Daily Bugle building.

“We’re in New York. People don’t really care about you as long as you look decent. Plus, the fake IDs helped a lot, too,” Charlene retorted. The married pair wore security guard outfits, their fake IDs stapled on the chest pockets. 

“Remember the plan,” Peter reminded them. He was wearing his usual outfit with glasses and his camera. He didn’t need to wear a disguise. He had worked here before as a photographer, and some people still recognized him enough to let him in. He brought a fake ID, too—an edited and updated one to make it seem that the company decided to hire him again.

The plan was simple. Carlos would look out from the first floor, round the halls, and check the people who got in and out from the entrance. They had memorized Mac’s face before leaving the apartment, and Carlos was in charge of checking if that particular face entered or left the building. Charlene would accompany Peter to the 7th floor, but she would stay outside Jameson’s office, looking out for whoever or whatever hindered their plan. Lastly, Peter would enter Jameson’s office, ask him where Mac Gargan was, and leave once it was answered. He hoped there would not be a need for interrogation or threats but only a simple answer to their simple question.

However, Peter and the word ‘simple’ never had a good relationship. Jameson did not care that Peter was in the room. In fact, he mindlessly believed Peter’s story and didn’t even get suspicious that the company decided to hire him back. But as soon as Peter asked the question, Jameson was quick to reach towards the telephone and call security, only for Peter to grab it first and cut the wires with the scissors he found atop his desk.

“Do you know where Mac Gargan is?” he repeated.

Silence.

Jameson suddenly stood up and decided to run out of his office, yelling for security to get Peter out of the building. Unfortunately for him, Charlene was waiting on the other side and caught him before he could even get past the door. She pushed the man back inside the room; this time, she stayed inside the room and decided to join Peter in handling him.

Once Jameson knew that he had no chance against the tough woman, he stopped resisting and faced Peter—only to see that it was now the Spider-Man in front of him. Unbeknownst to them, when Charlene was struggling to get Jameson back inside the room, Peter took the opportunity to put the Spider-Man suit on. If being Peter was not intimidating enough for him to answer, then he was sure that being Spider-Man would do just the job. He wasn’t scared that Jameson knew his identity now because the information he had on Jameson relating to Scorpion would threaten him enough not to speak about his real identity to the media.

“You’re Spider-Ma—” Jameson could not believe that the answer to the mystery he had been trying to solve for years was right in front of him. It made sense to him now. The reason Peter had so many interesting shots of Spider-Man was because they were one.

“Look, I’m not gonna repeat this again,” Peter started slowly, “where the fuck is Mac Gargan?”

Jameson was scrambling through his mind on ideas how to escape the man in front of him. It was evident that he was feeling uneasy. It seemed that the mere thought of Spider-Man knowing that he had something to do with Scorpion was intimidating him. 

“I have no idea who Mac Gargan is,” he tried to play dumb, but Peter had enough of his bullshit.

“C’mon, man,” he scoffed. “We all know that’s bullshit. Remember when you hired him to investigate me before?”

Silence.

“Alright. Let’s change the question, then. Where the fuck is Scorpion?” he was staring daggers at the man. If looks could kill, Jameson would already be buried 6 feet underground right at the moment.

“What do you want?” 

“For you to let us know where Scorpion is. It’s really that simple.”

“I don’t know,” he stepped backwards as soon as he saw Peter grabbing the scissors again.

“You don’t know?” Peter mocked him, walking towards him at a slow but threatening pace. “Really?”

Carlos, on the other hand, realized that he was not making progress just walking down the halls and looking at people’s faces. He decided to go against the plan and went straight to the room where they monitored the cameras in and out of the building. Thank God that he did though, because as soon as he entered the room, he saw a glimpse of his wife and Peter in his suit at Jameson’s room interrogating the man. He had to do something and act on this fast, but the problem was two guards were monitoring the cameras. Thankfully, one was sleeping, and the other was distracted by playing Candy Crush on his cell phone. It wasn’t hard for him to convince them to leave the room.

“Hey, man! Why don’t you all rest for a bit? I think I saw a couch there outside. I’ll go watch over these,” Carlos suggested happily.

“Are you sure? Wait—I haven’t seen you before,” one guard stopped in his tracks.

“Oh! I forgot to introduce myself,” he replied. “I’m new here, sorry–I just noticed you getting bored and your friend here sleeping and thought you might want some rest, you know? I’m Carl, by the way,” he smiled.

“Well, Carl,” the guard tapped his shoulder, “we’ll accept that offer. I’m Chip,” Chip nudged his friend to wake him up, “Dale, let’s go.”

Carlos smiled while the two left the room, muttering ‘thanks’ on their way out. As soon as they left, he wasted no time and manipulated the footage. This was all he could do for now, deleting and manipulating all footage of the three of them being suspicious. He prayed Peter and his wife would be done the moment Chip and Dale returned.

Jameson still managed to stand his ground despite being terrified of him, but Peter knew he would soon break. “So?” he taunted, playing with the scissors by spinning them around his finger.

They soon played a staring game that neither wanted to lose. That was until Peter threw the scissors just inches above his head, and Jameson finally broke. “Wa-wait! Fine! Mac is in my basement. He’s staying at my house. I-in the b-basement,” Jameson had his two hands up in surrender.

“I have a feeling that’s not the only thing you know,” Peter pushed. Jameson stared at him—almost begging. But Peter had no intentions of backing down. He flicked his hands, webbing the door handle and the windows shut. If it wasn’t clear to Jonah before that there won’t be any chance of escaping the circumstance, it was clear as air to him now. “Okay! Okay! I’ll tell you everything when w-we get t-there,” he bargained. 

“Lead the way,” said Charlene as she cleaned up the webs Peter had so graciously put on almost everything. Meanwhile, Peter took the opportunity to put away the suit and dress as an employee yet again. On the other hand, Carlos was still monitoring the cameras, observing their every move. As soon as he saw the three exit the building, he made sure to corrupt the footage before leaving and following the other three.

Jameson was a fucking maniac. He had to be—because no sane person would keep a lab underneath their house. Oh, and to make things even worse, a large glass cylinder cell stood in the middle—and alas, Scorpion was inside it. 

Peter observed the passed-out entity before immediately turning to Jameson. “Explain. Now,” he demanded.

“MacDonald Gargan,” Jameson pointed at Scorpion. “When he failed to find out how you obtained those Spider-Man pictures years ago, I decided to hire him as a subject of an experiment. I wasn’t alone. With the help of Dr. Farley Stillwell, the goal was to give him the beneficial traits of a certain animal—a scorpion. We were aiming to create someone powerful enough to be capable of defeating Spider-Man. Defeating you.

“But the mutagenic treatment was too much for him; it began to affect his mind. The entire process was barely tested. We should’ve known it would happen.”

“How long ago was this experiment?” asked Charlene.

“3 years ago. Right after he failed to do the initial job we hired him for.”

“If this was years ago, why is he only attacking now?”

“Stillwell and I spent the majority of time developing the mutagenic treatment. We had no means to test it, so we just went with our guts to continue developing and developing until we thought it was perfectly done. And then, not until weeks ago, I remembered this guy right here,” he glanced at Mac. “I remembered this man and how eager he was to prove himself to anyone. So I decided to call him up and hire him for a new job. And because he had failed me before, he was so eager to prove himself to me and accepted instantly.

“For a while, everything was going well. We believed it worked. And it did work—only it made him insane. Stillwell and I tried to contain him, but we failed. The next thing we knew, he was on the news attacking a neighborhood. So Stillwell and I created this cell—one that’s strong enough to contain him—and with the help of some trusted friends, we were able to lure him inside. But we lost people in the process.”

“You mentioned ‘trusted friends’, who are they?” Carlos asked. Jameson was skeptical to answer. These ‘trusted friends’ were highly important and powerful people who could kill him at any moment if he decided to reveal their identity. But at the same time, he knew that these three people were no different. They may not come in many numbers, but he knew that Spider-Man and his two friends could also kill him. He had no other choice.

He sighed exasperatedly. “They’re really powerful people. Some people are from the government, the military, the media, the news, and the police. It’s a secret group that wants to kill Spider-Man. They cover up the mess that Stillwell and I make.”

Carlos and Charlene eyed each other. If what Jameson said was true, some of their colleagues at the station were a part of this secret group too.

“You haven’t talked about his suit. Can we remove it? Maybe make him weaker by removing it?” Peter asked this time.

“No,” Jameson shook his head. “He’s stuck in the suit. You can’t remove it, he can’t remove it, we can’t remove it. Mac and his suit are permanently bonded.”

“How long has he been contained here?”

“He’s been in here since his first attack.”

Now, everyone was confused.

“If he's been here since the first attack, and the first attack was back in the neighborhood, then who did I fight on that street?” asked Peter.

“Why can’t the city cameras see him? He always disappears,” asked Carlos.

“What happened to Dr. Stillwell? Where is he now?” asked Charlene.

“Dead,” a hoarse voice spoke from the cell. In an instant, Carlos and Charlene’s guns were raised and pointed at him. “Stillwell is dead. I killed him when they contained me here,” Mac smirked.

Peter, being the one who fought Scorpion on that street, was the only one in the room who realized that his voice was different from the Scorpion he had fought before.

Mitch was starting to make you uncomfortable. 

When you started your day and decided it was time to visit the Greta Marketing Co. building in the country, he started to ramble and admitted that work would not begin until next week.

You were not aware of that.

He then went on to say that the reason he had you leave New York a week early was to get you used to the country and the new environment. He even showed you a list of activities to do for a week with him before starting work next week.

That alone was already suspicious. But you still gave him a chance. Maybe he meant well, you thought.

Only he didn’t. Little did you know, everything would turn even worse. And spending a couple of days more with him would prove it.

Mitch has changed. He was not the same person you knew. Or maybe you never knew him all along.

It started with weird glances. 

The plan was to take a week-long tour to see the famous tourist spots in the country. You must admit, it was pretty exciting. There was so much fun in discovering cultures and getting enlightened by their traditions. Mitch glanced at you every once in a while, but you let it go. You thought that he was just checking up on you.

Which turned to staring.

He was definitely not just checking up on you. You realized that when you noticed it took him at least 4 minutes to get his eyes away from you. You knew because you felt it every time. He was also eyeing you up and down and checking you out.

Which then turned to forcing you into holding hands with him.

He would try to hold your hand and intertwine his fingers with yours. Of course, every time, you would reject it, but that never stopped him as he still kept on trying it every moment you two were in a room—which was every fucking moment because he simply would not leave you alone.

And now, stalking.

You were able to convince him to take the third day off by yourself. At first, he was hesitant to let you wander off alone, but you eventually got him to let you go. You went to the Greta Marketing building once and for all, to ask some questions about your new position and inquire about the adjustments you need to make to get settled. However, along the way, you started to sense that someone was following you. When you turned around, you were able to get a glimpse of someone with a white shirt and khaki pants behind a utility pole texting or pretending to text someone on their phone. You decided to let it go for a while; you didn’t want to immediately point fingers. What if that man was just a normal guy going to work and stopping to rest on a pole to text his family or friend? Besides, he was gone after you crossed a road.

You were fucking pissed when you left the building—you couldn’t believe what you just discovered. Suddenly, you found Mitch running towards you as soon as you stepped out of the exit. He was breathing heavily but you couldn’t care less. “What happened to you?” you asked.

“I just ran,” he answered. 

“Why?” 

“I-uh–well-uh, it’s not important,” he shook his head. “Did you go in there? Who did you speak to? What did they tell you?”

You debated on whether to tell him the truth or lie. You decided to lie, just as he did to you. 

He lied. He fucking lied. That’s why you were pissed the moment you left the building. There was a branch of Greta Marketing in Japan—that part was true—but they did not need you. You were made aware of that the moment you went there and asked for your position.

“I just spoke with the receptionist. The person I was hoping to talk to wasn’t there, so I didn’t get to know anything,” you lied. Mitch let out a breath of relief he tried to hide with a yawn. He thought you didn’t notice, but you certainly did.

And that wasn’t the only thing you noticed. You observed his outfit. He was wearing a white shirt with khaki pants.

“Let’s go back to our apartment?” he offered his hand.

You were disgusted, but you hid it with a smile. You had a plan. “Sure.”

You immediately went straight to the bathroom after entering your apartment. He joked about how you were so desperate for a pee, and you faked a laugh, saying it was because you were holding it in for quite some time. 

You didn’t pee. What you actually did was open your phone and try to book the soonest flight back to New York. You were hoping there was a flight today so you could leave as early as possible, but luck was unfortunately not on your side as you discovered that the last flight from New York to Japan and vice versa was actually yesterday. So you instead booked the next one. It was tomorrow. You flushed the toilet before leaving the bathroom.

And the waiting game began—only one more day.

“Do you know someone named Mitchell Gargan?” asked Peter.

Mac Gargan chuckled hoarsely. “My twin brother.”

“What do you know about him?”

“Everything.”

“Go ahead then,” Peter dared.

“Mitch and I used to be inseparable. We played the same games as children, watched the same cartoons, went to the same school and stuff, even fell in love with the same girl once—you know, the usual twin things. We were partners in crime. We protected each other, we cared for each other, and we lifted each other up. But everything changed when our mother died, and we were left to live with our father. We were still in school at that time, Mitch wanted to be a scientist and I wanted to be a detective or an investigator.

“We were always at the top of the class but he has always been the smarter one. That’s why he always excelled in his subjects. He was forced to stop it, though, because our father wasn’t very into the idea of science. He didn’t believe in any of the science shit and did not want to support Mitch in his dream of becoming a scientist, so he didn’t have any choice but to pursue a business-related course. He started changing after that. He rarely talked to me and started being reclusive. He always preferred to be alone and would only get out of his bedroom when it was time to eat. Our father didn’t care. He never fucking cared about our well-being. 

“When our father died, Mitch started talking to me again, but he was not the same. I started my investigation and discovered that he had a made-up lab in a secluded area where he was mixing chemicals and experimenting on animals. It turned out that he still continued living his scientist dreams despite not getting education for it. I let it slide. I thought that he was just doing that to compensate for the dream he would never accomplish. 

“Everything got worse when we graduated. He was jealous and angry because I graduated my dream course and he didn’t. To be fair, it was understandable that he felt that way. His way of coping was downing countless bottles of alcohol. One time when he had been drinking too much, he let it slip that he fantasized about stalking women, trapping them, and doing things to them—the worst part was he imagined that they would eventually end up dead. From the way he spoke about assault and murder in such a calm way, I didn’t recognize my twin brother anymore.

“I planned on informing the authorities about his fantasy, but I had no proof that he said it, and he then threatened me when he found out that I knew. He had a knife in my throat, threatening me that if I ever told someone he would do much more than that. That was the moment when I outsmarted him. You see, I learned my lesson that night when he was drunk, so I always wore a hidden camera just to catch him the next time we would talk. And guess what? I recorded the entire conversation of him threatening me. He was sentenced to prison, and we never talked again.”

“Is he still in jail?” Peter asked. He thought that if this Mitch was still in prison, maybe the Mitch that was with you in Japan wasn’t the same as Mitchell Gargan. It was a possibility that even Peter himself found it hard to believe in.

“No,” Mac coldly admitted.

“And how are you sure?” Carlos interrogated.

“Because the son of a bitch once paid me a visit. I thought he was going to break me out of here but no. He wanted something else.”

Peter held his hand up, causing everyone in the room to look at him. By this moment, Peter immediately knew the next words Mac would say, so he needed to act fast. He pulled Charlene and Carlos into a corner, instructing them to leave the city and get to you as soon as possible. Once the couple had left, Peter turned back to the creature behind the glass.

“What did he want?” he asked, although he already knew the answer.

“The formula.”

Mac then glanced at Jameson with a knowing look. 

“He got it. And with his science background shit, I assume he was able to modify it to make him turn from human to Scorpion and from Scorpion to being human again.”

You should’ve known to run the moment he planned this entire trip and kept it a secret from you.

The moment you stepped out of the bathroom, you knew you weren’t safe anymore. Your choices were limited, and time was running out fast.

Only a day had passed, but it was excruciatingly long because Mitch started to get touchy. He was adamant about invading your privacy to the point that it was hard to pack your bags without him noticing. And every time you asked for space, he would turn the tables figuratively and make it seem that you were being impolite and ungrateful for his efforts.

So now here you were, at your shared apartment, having that same argument over again. Only this time he actually apologized. Like sincerely apologized.

Or so you thought. 

He stepped towards you, asking for a hug, which you did not want to give him at first, but he proposed a deal that if you gave him one last hug, he would be gone in your life forever. And for some reason, you agreed to do it.

Your mind has once again failed to stop your ever-kind heart as you proved to be a fool of his calculated offenses.

He was hugging you too tight, you couldn’t even breathe anymore. While his left arm was suffocating you in a hug, his other hand started to roam your body before it settled on your clothed ass and squeezed it. You froze entirely while his hand continued to feel your body until it stopped at your crotch, and he started rubbing it with his fingers.

You managed to push him away, and with all your might, you grabbed your bag under your bed and headed towards the door. You successfully passed the bedroom door, hoping to get to the main entrance as fast as possible, but you were stopped when a hand threw your whole body away from the door. You had never seen Mitch this angry and powerful before. 

Mitch was not the type of person who worked out. He was lean, tall, and he wore glasses. His hair was always a ruffled mess, and he talked in such a slow and soft cadence.

You should’ve been wiser not to let yourself be deceived by appearances.

You stood up with shaking knees and a trembling body, hoping to get through the door, but you were interrupted once more when he caught your throat with his hand. You soon found yourself getting lifted up by the throat every passing second. Your eyes were closed as you tried kicking him and scratching his arm, but he was unbelievably strong. You opened your eyes to look at what was once your friend, but you were met with the sight of him turning into the monster you saw on television.

You gathered every last bit of strength you had as you screamed as loud as you could, forcing him to release his hold of you and cover his ears. 

And you did the only thing you’ve known to do for years—whether from your problems, from threats, or from love…

You ran.

TASM!PETER PARKER TAGLIST:  @mymilkducts @i-am-woman-strong @lauraneedstochill @jeanettexkillian @ms-mandalore @enaraism @alessandralol @sad-darksoul @sincericida @mentallystablepotato @mich0731 @writingstoraes @logolepsic-insomniac @k0miiki @dreamsarecloserwithyou @jumilzzz @primroseparker @preciousbabypeter @myheartonthemove @rebecca-johnson-28 @silkholland @ellievickstar @okkulta @geekygamerchick @starqwerty20​ @the-quiet-observer

THANKS FOR PATIENTLY WAITING FOR THIS PART! SEE YOU SOON FOR THE FINALE :)

[lambsouvlaki]

For the Hell of it 4 - Pillion

Character: Jason Todd x civilian! Fem!oc

Rating and Warnings: G, mention of vomit, mention of past abuse.

Word Count: 1,292

Summary: Jason takes Andy on his bike for the first time.

Masterlist

Jason laughed at her. Andy did not care. 

“It’s not ‘doing movies wrong’,” she replied with her chin lifted up while she held the door out of the movie theatre open for him. “It’s a passive activity, you can’t do it wrong.”

“You’re doing this one wrong, who sees Mission Impossible for the plot?” 

“What were you here for then?”

“The stunts, obviously.” He buried his hands in the pockets of his jacket and strolled beside her out into the warm afternoon. They both blinked at the brightness. “That’s the whole marketing campaign. Most dangerous stunt ever attempted by a human. Don’t know how they’re judging that exactly, I’m pretty sure I’ve seen youtube videos of Nightwing pulling stupider tricks two hundred feet over concrete pavement.”

“How would they know that anyway?” she said. “‘By a human’. What, are they DNA testing the crew?”

He frowned thoughtfully. “We’d know if Tom Cruise was a Metahuman.”

“Yeah, but what if the stunt coordinator was prescient and just never told anyone. Maybe the guy who checks the ropes and harnesses got that job because he’s got the power of tensile strength detection.”

Jason snorted a laugh. “They walk among us, doing safety checks?”

“Metas gotta pay the rent too.” She suddenly wished she’d kept her stupid mouth shut. “I assume.” 

Jason didn’t seem to notice, frowning at the tinted windows of the Italian restaurant they usually went to after catching a movie. They weren’t dates, of course, because they’d agreed they weren’t dating. They were just hanging out.

She followed his eyes to the windows but couldn’t make out anything more than vague movement through the glass.

He stepped ahead of her and pushed open the door, putting himself between her and the interior. She heard glass smashing and a lot of yelling before she saw a large man in a chef’s jacket punch a man in a suit in the stomach. He threw up spaghetti and red sauce all over the floor. 

She made a face and stepped back outside, chased by the acrid stench and a chorus of yells. Jason let the door swing shut again. 

“I’m suddenly not hungry for pasta,” he groused. 

She sighed. How quintessentially Gotham. Or maybe just Crime Alley. “There’s that Greek place on the next block?”

“I had Greek food for lunch.” He looked at her with his eyes slightly narrowed. His scheming face, she called it. “How do you feel about Afghan food? There’s a great place in the Narrows.” 

“I’m not walking to the Narrows.” 

He jerked his head at his bike, parked in front of the theatre. “It’s a quick ride. And I can drop you home afterwards.”

“Oh, okay. Sure, let’s try that then.” She followed him towards the gleaming black motorbike that she was honestly a little surprised nobody had tried to steal. She paused awkwardly a couple of feet away while he got his gloves out of his back pocket. 

“I’ve never ridden pillion before. You have to tell me if I’m doing it wrong.”

Jason sent her a curious look. “You’ve ridden a bike yourself?”

“Curse your attention to detail.”

He laughed. It was a warm and loud sound, and all too rare. She counted anything more than a snort as a win. 

“Never ridden pillion.” He swung a leg over the bike and patted the seat behind him. “Come on, daylight’s burning and I’m hungry.” 

She hopped up behind him, straddling the seat. It was a far more… close seating arrangement than she’d thought about in advance. Jason was tall and broad, she couldn’t see anything except his back from this position. He was so warm too, even without actually touching him. She could feel her cheeks warming a little and hoped he didn’t notice. She didn’t know where to put her hands. 

“Try to keep your leg away from the exhaust, it’ll get hot. Like that, perfect,” he said, pulling her knee slightly forward. “Now hands on my waist and try not to lean too much with the corners.”

She settled into the seat more comfortably and placed her hands on his waist. She could feel his rib cage expanding with each breath. “Like that?”

“Uh-huh.” He pulled his helmet on. “There’s gonna be a test at the end.” 

“Is the test Not Falling Off?” 

“I promise to circle round and scrape you off the road if you do. After a kebab or two.” 

“Asshole,” she said, but it was drowned out by the sudden roar of the bike. She knew he was smiling under the black helmet, she could sense it.

The bike vibrated between her legs much more than she expected, like some kind of angry beast. He wheeled it round, and then took off from the curb with a smooth acceleration. The force of the burst of speed startled her anyway and she leaned into him with a yelp. She cured around his back as they moved faster and faster, giving up on embarrassment. 

The cold air whipped past, a kaleidoscope of sounds and smells rushing by, but she was safe in the lee of his figure. He was so big and stable, it felt like wrapping herself around a column. A warm, breathing column. He smelled like leather conditioner and something smooth and earthy she couldn’t name. She tried not to lean out too much as he took corners, and found herself moving with him. It was such a tactile experience, overwhelming physical in a way she was unused to.

She shocked herself with how much she was into it. She leaned her cheek against his back. The leather of his jacket was soft. Before she met him she would have been shocked to think she’d gotten onto some man’s bike to go wherever he decided they were going. 

After the last time… in her darkest, loneliest moments she didn’t think she was ever going to trust anyone ever again. Certainly not a man, let alone one so intimidating. But she didn’t feel threatened by Jason, not in the least. 

She felt safer around him than she had in a long time. 

“Okay?” he called over his shoulder as they slowed to a stop at some lights.

“Okay!” 

She wondered if her instincts were leading her astray. She wasn’t stupid, she had seen his discoloured and ripped up knuckles, the scars lining his arms. He didn’t habitually find the exit in every room he entered due to a fear of a fire suddenly breaking out. Private security, he said his job was. In Gotham that could mean a number of things, some of them were even legal. The 200 something pounds of man between her legs was very dangerous. 

But he treated her so carefully, so gently. Like a little bird in his large hands, delicate heartbeat fluttering a mile a minute. 

Her pride raged at just how much she liked it. She hadn’t fought so hard to be in control of her life just to gamble with it now. She held on like a limpet as they pulled away from the lights. 

No. Bad Andy. Remember the last time you put your trust in someone you thought you knew? 

But Jason was nothing like Kieran. Kieran, insecure little insect, who needed someone to hold down just to reassure himself he was a man. Jason didn’t need any reassurances. He knew he was dangerous and spent more time making people feel comfortable and safe than trying to throw his weight around. 

When she was looking, that was. Just because he wasn’t the type of snake she’d encountered before didn’t mean he wasn’t going to turn around and bite her anyway. She didn’t know. He could be an all new variety of bad news. She held on a little tighter. 

City streets flashed by, and then they were shooting across the bridge, nothing but water and sky around them, dyed magnificent red in the sunset.

It didn’t matter of course. Because they weren’t dating.

Next >>

[yerbamansa]

Writing Patterns - First & Last Sentences

Tagged by @thetragicallynerdy - thanks for the tag! This was fun! You got me to make a tumblr post for the first time in a thousand years!

Editing to add @petrichorca for tagging me in the first part of the game - consider yourself tagged back for corresponding last lines?

I’m just combining two things because that seems handy.

Rules: list the first line of your last 10 (posted) fics and see if there's a pattern! Then list the last line of the same 10 fics you shared opening lines for and see if there's a pattern!

1. the secret middle-aged sad-sack mostly bad vibes I can sing along to playlist

First: Some things don’t change.

Last (most recent): Why the fuck, then, do they start sobbing?

2. the way things are going

First: Since things started falling apart, Oluwande learned the hard way to be careful about who to trust.

Last (most recent): Once he got it open, he read aloud: “‘Dear community and/or individuals, my name is Stede Bonnet…’”

3. Welcome to Jeff’s Inn by the Sea | Innkeeper Roleplay ASMR | Personal Attention | Realistic | Soft Spoken Male Voice

First: When Stede Bonnet’s boyfriend casually mentioned wanting to try making ASMR videos, he was all in.

Last: “I’ll have to think about that one, dearest,” he decided.

4. Rock On To The Oceanside

First: Ed Teach wasn’t built for sitting idle.

Last (most recent): And Ed felt ready.

5. Plus Ones

First: “So how did you two meet?”

Last: “Probably even better luck if we do it again.”

6. you can move in light divine

First: Oluwande had always loved Jim, probably from the moment they met.

Last: So many more conversations to come.

7. due to a controllable irregularity

First: It had been a good week, but Stede was looking forward to going home.

Last: He’d tell him. Soon.

8. an atypical emotional response to common sounds

First: Stede Bonnet had a complicated relationship with sounds.

Last: Stede couldn’t wait for Saturday.

9. Stede has started shopping for your order

First:  “Your GetMeGroceries shopper Stede has arrived at Jenkins Market!” the app informed Ed.

Last: For the moment, however, he had far more compelling priorities.

10. I Think I See The Light

First: Jackie’s traded her usual vivid reds for somber black, but she still looks every bit the part of the intimidating pirate queen.

Last: And they start humming a now-familiar tune as they scan the docks for a recognizable face: If you want to sing out, sing out…

NB: skipped one that’s a mostly abandoned group collab smau because that doesn’t seem indicative of my style, and there’s one here that needed the preceding sentence because otherwise it’s just one word.

Hmmm, so, self-analysis: I start with some kind of place-setting thesis statement. Sometimes it’s maybe a little in medias res, but not usually, I guess. The POV character is named more often than not. And I end on the edge of some kind of decision or change. That’s by design—I don’t like writing pat endings and happily ever afters (even if they are pretty happy). This is especially true for mid-fic chapters, I suppose, but it’s definitely how I approach endings in general! (There’s one fic I can think of that has a final sentence I fucking hate for reasons related to this but I don’t wanna go rewrite it because I am not sure what to change it to, and I’m really quite pleased with the rest of the fic!)

One thing that strikes me is that I can’t really tell from any of these firsts and lasts whether the fic is more funny or serious. It’s just a lot of interior monologue, really.I’m not sure if there’s anything here I specifically want to work on. Maybe experimenting more with diving right into the action?

ANYHOO. If you see this because you're still actually looking at your tumblr dash regularly (sorry sorry) and you wanna play, please do!! I won't stumble out of the woodwork and tag but I love you all ok byeee

[brightlight-dazzlingeyes]

between the lines | chapter 06

rúben dias x original female character [+18]

synopsis: isabella is a sports journalist covering the premier league. she has sworn to never get involved with a football player. that is, until she meets a handsome portuguese defender. warnings: incorrect journalism references; timeline of events are not faithful to real life; i have never been to england; mutual pining; romantic comedy;  minors dni.

previous chapter | masterlist | next chapter

Chapter 06 - A cold, rainy night in Stoke

Melanie is tapping her feet, her eyes narrowed, looking at me like an eagle searching for prey. We’re at a practically empty café and she’s been like this for a couple of minutes.

“Come on,” She gestures with her hands, urging me to speak up. “go on, dear.”

“I…” Looking at our long forgotten coffees at the table, I swear my hands are as cold as they look. “Can’t you just let go?”

“What? No! I know what I saw, Isabella. And I know you…” For a moment she looks offended, leaning closer to me as she says, “This isn’t about gossip, I’m just worried about you. If you tell me you already talked about it with someone else, I’ll let go.”

I haven't. And she knows. Who else would I talk about something like this? The reason this conversation is happening in the first place is because Mel knows me so well. She knew something was up for a while, but when she witnessed a brief interaction between Rúben and I yesterday, suspicious looks exchanged at inappropriate times and boom: a light bulb appeared on the top of her head. This morning she called me, asking me to meet her here and demanding an explanation.

“He’s the reason you’ve been acting so blue, is he? Tell me what happened.” Mel holds my hands.

“No…” I shake my head. “He 's not. I am. I fucked up…” I take a deep breath before dumping everything at her. “I went on a date with him a few months ago. And another few dates after that.” I pause, my hands shaking. Mel has her mouth open and I mentally thank her for having such a funny shocked face, because that actually makes me laugh and relaxes me a bit. So I continue. “We slept together. A few times… And then one day I just freaked out. I feel so silly saying this now because it’s not like I didn’t knew since day one, but…” Another big breath. “One day I just realized what it would mean to me if people ever found out. What it would mean for my career… So I just… Left. And it’s been so shitty since then.” 

She’s holding my hand even tighter now.

“Do you think I’m crazy? Or stupid?” I ask her. I’ve been meaning to ask her that for a while now.

“No,” She shakes her head. “Of course not. And I could never judge you. I’m going through something similar.” I raise my brow as she speaks, now I’m the one with the funny shocked face. “Sebastian wanted us to become official. I said no.”

“What? That 's…” I hold myself back, trying not to say the word.

“Crazy! Right?” Mel winks at me and we giggle, that’s when I notice we both have been tearing up a bit. Damn. “Yeah… No, I get you.”

“Are we both stupid?” My voice is low, almost a whisper.

“Maybe? I never thought this romance thing was worth the hassle, and now I feel like I’m too old to even try.” When she says that, I try to speak up, defend her honor, but she stops me. “And don’t try to school me. You have your own stupid reasons as well.”

We’re quiet for a while after that, gaining enough courage to drink our coffees.

“Imagine what would be like making your life decisions based on what would make you happy, instead of doing what your fucked up mind think is ‘the right thing’.” I joke.

“Right, imagine. Couldn't be me.”

I feel as light as a feather after that. Humming pop songs on the way to work, cooking over complicated meals to dinner and giving up halfway through, ending up eating take out as always, you know, the dream life of a single woman who’s closer to 30 than to 18.

Until I saw him again.

At that same market, and I swear he’s wearing the same shirt. My own fault, I should’ve just stopped coming here. 

“You’re staring.” He’s holding a peanut butter bottle and reading the label, doesn't even bother to look at me. It’s just us in the aisle or maybe it's because I can only pay attention to him. “Do you want a picture?” He asks, finally looking up at me. He’s surprise by my state and I notice he holds back a laugh, so I explain my self:

“It 's raining.” I point at where I think the entrance is. I’m completely soaked, came walking all the way from my apartment. Didn’t stop to think I could meet anyone important.

“It’s always raining here, don't you have an umbrella?” He looks angry and it’s my turn to hold back a laugh.

“Nope.” I shake my head. 

“You could get sick.” He scolds me, so close to me and I didn’t even notice him approaching. Maybe I walked up to him.

“I’ll be fine, it’s just a minute. I just need this really specific brand of butter.” It’s so hard to get the word out with the way he’s paying attention to me. Big eyes all over my face. “It’s for a recipe.” I whisper, I can feel my cheeks burning. “So, I’m leaving now… Bye.”

He carefully holds my wrist and stops me from walking away.

“Wait, let me give you a ride home.” He repeats my gesture and points at the entrance. “It’s still raining.”

“No, don’t worry. I don’t want to mess up your car.” I run my fingers through my hair as I search for an excuse.

“I don't mind.” His hand is still on my wrist, and I feel his thumb slowly caressing me. I look down wondering if he’s doing it subconsciously. “It 's cool.” Rúben pronounces the last word carefully. “We’re cool, right?”

And that’s when I realize. He’s 100% doing it on purpose. The whole thing. Maybe it’s resentment, maybe he just enjoys taunting me. But it’s clear he’s aware of what he provokes in me. With him being so close, touching me… I’m a flustered mess that he’s enjoying watching.

I don’t have the brains to think this through, or the guts to say no to him ever again. My conversation with Melanie is still fresh in my mind. So I just nodded.

“Okay, sure. Drive me home.”

join the taglist

@91vhs @kathb59 @kaddi1608

[accio-victuuri]

xiao zhan - iqiyi SBMS interview transcript 🎤

I uploaded the first part of it but it’s like 9 mins long on iqiyi. but here’s the whole Q&A portion. 🤍

hello friends of iqiyi drama, i am xiao zhan!

do you have a character traits of shengyang that you really like?

brave and fearless of difficulties, very positive, very sunny, i think he is very much like the person around everyone. i like this trait in him, like an ordinary person but it’s not just an ordinary person because of his ability in withstand pressure and his longing for a better life, his positive and upward attitude, his positive energy, he won’t be knocked down, not quite like an ordinary office worker when they feel being overwhelmed by the burden of work and life. that’s what attracts me.

everyone said that your interpretation of shengyang makes people feel no sense of distance, like someone you would meet at the subway station after get off work

that’s great. that means i have achieved the goal.

shengyang is xiao zhan in parallel universe. when interpreting this character, do you have a little habit you gave him?

actually, i am particularly afraid that others may say that— xiao zhan is shengyang in parallel time and space because this will make it easy for audience incorporate xiao zhan traits into the characters. but what i’m actually trying to say is — he has some experience in life that xiao zhan once had, similar places but actually when i was acting i will play him more outwardly, be more proactive but actually for myself i am relatively introverted person in my life so when playing him i will deliberately awaken all my positive energy. get up in the morning and give yourself some snail noodles.

the scenes where shengyang and jian bing ate snail noodles, did you improvise that?

right, that was not included in the script. it’s just bai jie is really powerful, because she is natural, very professional, so many times i act with her on set. so this one is actually, i just told her that i said “your mouth is dirty, would you like to wipe it?” so she said “you also have it on your mouth” but i don’t think there is anything on my lips, she said “there…there” so i said “ahh this is my mole” so this is entirely auspicious.

everyone says that shengyang is a “pure love warrior”. what do you think of the relationship between shengyang and jian bing

just like a line from my drama, independent from each other, no guessing, no limitation. i think these two are very independent personalities, colliding together.

when shengyang was pursuing his sister, there was no routine, the main focus is only sincerity. in your opinion which moment shengyang has entered his sister’s heart?

the scene where i took her to the rooftop. i think that was the turning point. although i watched it myself, when reading the script i would also think that shengyang is a bit lacking in vision. just take her with you and shout out whatever he say, make people shout out (out of blue) but i think this is also the characteristic of shengyang. he just very valuable, and if he feels you are unhappy then he will find a way to make you happy. if you think too much maybe it’s not shengyang anymore.

in your opinion, what are shengyang’s advantages in the blind date market?

i really don’t know about this. i have never had a blind date before

for example, he can provide emotional value to others, his work ability and survivability are also very strong, etc..

aren’t you finished talking about this? i think it’s possible that he respects others, i think he will think from a different perspective and then he will respect everyone.

can you share with us the scene where the children are led to shoot the commercial in the rain?

there are many children on site. you act with children together, you can’t put yourself in a position as an adult, if you use such a position to shoot with them, you will be torn apart and the children won’t listen to you. you need to turn yourself into a friend too. i will go talk to them, tell them that so on the set i was one of your big friends and then we will play together on site. don’t put too much pressure on them. i think this a state where the director is very skilled. i think it’s not just for shengyang. for each character the director uses a very beautiful lenses and lighting and then go tell a shoot. so i think this is where director xiao fei is very powerful.

do you have any small movements you designed for shengyang?

actually, sunshine by my side is a drama that flows through life. at the beginning, i was also very nervous when i was taking on this drama because i think how do you want to act as an ordinary person in life and then make everyone feel like they are not acting anymore. this is actually very difficult so the designing small actions is often the instinctive response, so i didn’t specifically say what i want to design but rather take natural reactions in the present moment.

what do you think is the secret that keeps shengyang energetic all the time?

actually, i don’t think there’s is any secret. the secret is to live like every person at work and we do it every day, even during my previous internship, i was also very tired. but when you get home, lie down and think about it. why you have to work, because it’s how life is right? so the next day i had to cheer myself up and then work harder. i see many people saying, why can’t shengyang have a golden fingers, can’t you just open a hook? i want to say, that in fact, most people in real life are like this.

can you share with us a lot of fun scenes with your parents in the drama this time?

actually, i really enjoy every scene with them. i feel very relaxed with the two teachers. the house that built is really like my childhood home, it’s look packed and old but in fact, it’s really comfortable. at first glance, it looks like meijuan and lao sheng really carefully took care of this house, so it would make me play with two teachers in that environment. i am very relaxed, i don’t have to think about many distractions, how am i supposed to act, how do i react. it seems like i live there with my parents. what are we going to do in this scene, we just need to remember one main purpose, many details follow your emotions, just follow the flows. it feels extremely great.

everyone says that shengyang is a cute sandwich snack. is there anything you want to respond to this?

when we were reading the script, including when we were filming, i think this is what happens to every family. including like me, xiao zhan himself. my parents also quarrel, and after the quarrel they would also call me because you can’t see each other at the time so just call each other and you are there to judge. i think, how can i judge this? each of them are sticks to their own view, and would said they had their own reason. so i can only mediate them in the middle, i would said “you guys calm down a bit” and said is it worth arguing over such a small matter, right? actually, it’s just like shengyang in the drama

is there any little wisdom you and shengyang learned about being sons?

just have a sweet mouth. have a sweeter one to coax on both sides.

do you think “romantic” is a label on him?

i think he is a person who is both practical and romantic. for example, he will do his best to create some surprises, like when he take jian bing to the rooftop, send her snail noodle. some of the more life-likes details which may not be as similar as some of the movies and tv dramas we have seen before, scene that creates a particularly romantic and large gift but i think this is actually adding a little bit to life.

is there any of shengyang daily outfits in the drama that you personally like more?

hoodie. because i wear those also in my daily life.

there is a kiwi character who appears frequently in the drama. everyone says that this character saved Shengyang’s life?

when we tried it on before i also asked myself, will this shirt appear many times? but later on we will discuss with the director. actually, we are based on character’s living environment. starting from his family environment and his upbringing environment. i think it’s important not to give everyone a lot of beautiful looks, just to say it add to the clothing design of shengyang because i don’t think it’s practical. in fact, his family background is not really that good. i remember when i used to go to work, i used to wear the most comfortable clothes just to make everyone believe.

this time you are filming in chongqing. did it benefit everyone a lot? what are the local delicacies in chongqing?

i am sending a lot of delicious chongqing food recommendations to everyone. as a result, they are just told me that “you are not longer good at this” this is no longer popular in chongqing now. i said i haven’t been back for a long time and it has already been updated, and replaced . instead, it becomes someone else who giving me recommendations of what delicious now.

snail noodles appears many times in this drama, we would like to ask teacher xiao zhan if he has changed his mind to snail noodle now?

it smells so good. so it was used when i was young and reckless. i think snail noodle is delicious. it stinks and tastes good.

have you acquired any interesting new skills recently?

sometimes i play tennis when i have free time, use my vacation time to go surfing. i think surfing for the first time was really great, it’s very refreshing.

do you have anything to say to the audience who enjoy sunshine by my side?

I hope everyone can feel the sincerity of our drama sunshine by my side as we want to make a very heart-warming drama, maybe it didn’t have a very catchy plots but it will warms you and give you some strength.

-END.

[revserrayyu]

2.2 Penacony thoughts [part 1]

**Mild spoiler warning** in place as I didn’t reach that far into the new update as of yet. Stopped right after seeing Sunday being a holy man listening to the troubles of others, so if that scene doesn’t ring any bells, then please refrain from reading further. As always, don’t spoil anything that happens afterwards, not only for myself, but for anyone else who hasn’t finished the new story yet.

First things first, I’m so pleased that we start off with Boothill. It feels like it’s been forever since he was first drip-marketed and when we heard that phone call of his with Black Swan, so finally seeing him in game is pretty nice. Still love that design in his eye too.

I’m also happy that the jade abacus was brought up again. Once we saw DHIL & Jing Yuan team up in the 2.2 livestream trailer I figured that Dan Heng was gonna call upon our beloved general with this item. At present, I don’t know if it’s actually used or if we head to the Xianzhou instead and request for help. Either way, I’m a bit surprised the general lends a hand. Of course he’s an ally and promised to help us with any troubles, but.. last time we saw him, he had just encountered Luocha and Jingliu, right? Could Jing Yuan really have left that confrontation behind so easily? Are we ever going to learn about what happened during that conversation? Who knows, but I hope we find out one day if this story doesn’t mention the matter further.

Anyways, who do you think the Elation Emanator that Boothill is? Naturally, I first thought of Sparkle solely because of her “I AM Elation!” declaration during her character trailer and her being a Masked Fool, but seeing how Boothill is having issues accessing Penacony in the first place, I doubt the two have officially met. They could’ve met elsewhere, sure, but I still doubt it’s Sparkle. Still haven’t a clue on who else it could be though but whomever it is certainly can’t hold their liquor.

Then we cut to Acheron being cornered by a bunch of npcs who are apparently all part of the “Dreammaster,” but let me just say that I love how literal Acheron can be, like correcting how many slashes she actually used. It’s also a bit scary for her to mention, as I don’t even remember a second blade either.

She’s just.. ironically funny to me. Acting all threatening but being completely serious with her grammar.

It was humorous when we switched to Robin for the first time. I didn’t manage to get a screenshot of it but how the screen even questioned it like “switching to Robin’s POV?” was hilarious. And rightfully so because this certainly isn’t our beloved idol. Sparkle, please, stop handing out bombs to everyone!

It was a short switch, but we finally jump back to where we personally left off. I know the journey Firefly is referring to might be our time hanging out together in Penacony, but somewhere deep down I imagine it could also be about our possible time with the Stellaron Hunters before the entire story even happened. I’m sure we have some sort of past with them but who knows if and when we’ll touch upon that.

Firefly goes into detail about her actions, about how she informed Silver Wolf to contact us and the plan she wanted to share with us before “Death” acted out. I guess it makes the lies and secrets a bit more bearable? All according to the script and at least she originally intended to tell us everything before the monster lashed out.

Then we get scene with her and Blade and oh my god, they both look so good?? Learning that Blade actually owns a driver’s license is comical too. Who would’ve thought our edgy man could be so reliable.

I’m so thankful for this scene as it gives us a taste about how Firefly acts around the other Stellaron Hunters. Since the rumors about her being Sam started, I couldn’t imagine how this sweet girl could’ve been one of them, but it seems she gets along just fine, even teasing Blade a bit.

Now correct me if I’m wrong but this is actually a flashback that happens right before Kafka destroys the Jepella Brotherhood during that one Myriad Celestia trailer, yeah? That’s pretty cool. Confirms that Firefly has been here the entire time and Bladie is even wearing the same suit.

I never thought of a decent acronym for what Sam could really mean, but we finally got our answer: Strategic Assault Mech. Makes me wonder if Firefly is even her true name, since that also seems to be part of the suit’s name.

Rejoice, someone other than ourselves can actually see Misha and Clockie. Would’ve never guessed that person to be Welt though. I guess he really is a child at heart. I know he gets excited whenever mechs are involved, such as the Engine of Creation, but this also reminds me of how his E6 depicts him as a child.

It’s unsettling that Misha calls “Death” something so innocent as “Sleepie.” Also claims that the monster isn’t aggressive and sometimes fetches the wrong guests to bring here.. uh huh, right. Sure. But of course Gallagher controls it! I know we learn more about him during this patch but I still don’t trust him.

So it’s clear that Misha is still a giant mystery. It’s good that us and Welt can see him, but the kid still isn’t perceived by everyone here. That one pepeshi we found alongside March thought we were talking to someone invisible and it appears Micah and Himeko can’t see Misha either.

During that flashback with the siblings as kids, I sorta feel like Sunday is also talking about Robin here. I know we’re chatting about the injured bird they found, but all the caged bird metaphors that Robin has, from her splash art and trailers, is hard to ignore.

Then we learn Gallagher is a History Fictionologist that’s in charge of this new place, which is all fine and well I suppose? Great to know who he really is but chalk it up as yet another person who lied to us. Of course I don’t believe much of anything any non-Express family says but whatever. He’s using fancy words that went over my head.

And now it’s all started to make sense in my head. Inviting different parties that have experience handling stellarons or at least have capable means of preventing a disaster. The Express and the Stellaron Hunters themselves are an obvious and reliable choices when it comes to stellarons, the IPC certainly has impressive power if Aventurine is anything to go off of, and I don’t doubt the real Galaxy Rangers are strong fighters too. I’m sire Black Swan and Sparkle have some tricks up their sleeves too, as would Ever-Flame Mansion.. if they’re alive. Also, the fact that the meme is named “Dormancy”.. Ratio stated in his note to Aventurine that “Dormancy” was the impossible in the dreamscape instead of “Death,” but I figured he just meant it as the word’s true meaning, not referring to the monster itself. That’s clever.

Sir, don’t give me hope like this by saying you’ll fight with us. Do you know how many people are wishing for you to actually be playable?? I’d love it if he was, I’d even take him as a four-star at this point (even though he clearly has five-star energy) but something tells me he isn’t. He gives me Cocolia vibes a little, like he’s certainly an important figure but I would not be shocked if he turns on us somehow and ends up as a boss of some sort either.

Aventurine’s status is truly a mystery that I definitely need to know! Is our beloved gambler okay?? Preferably alive somehow?? It hasn’t been long but I miss seeing/hearing him in the story already! But I do love that the chip he gave is when we first entered our hotel room turned out to be a transmitter. I’m not sure if it’ll reach his place in that momochromatic world he’s in, but perhaps we can use it to call upon Topaz and the rest of the IPC chilling in the hotel lobby? After Topaz noticed one of the broken Aventurine stone pieces lost its shine, I can imagine that our gambler had several spare transmitter chips to hand out to those he can depend on.

Stuff happens in a quick cutscene and we climb up many stairs to encounter another Nameless who has certainly seen better days. He sorta looks like that one white-haired dude on that new light cone that they showed briefly during the 2.2 livestream. And since it isn’t much of a spoiler anymore considering the official HSR yt channel already put out a video on it.. yeah, harmony hat.

Pfftt there’s something so funny to me about hearing Himeko call that fierce monster who has already “killed” several people a mere pet. Show no fear mother!

I absolutely LOVE that this man canonically can’t swear! They can switch all the words they want but I know exactly what Boothill wishes to say and it is hilarious. This quirk alone makes me want to pull for him.

My memory isn’t the greatest, but this shot made it so clear for me to remember that the Forgotten Hall mirror is a sort of Garden of Recollection thing, so having Black Swan appear from it was simply perfect.

The girlies working together once again, oh my~

After the things you personally witnessed sweetie, I’m glad you think so. Gotta love strong women!

Whose?? The only relics that come to mind are the Ashblazing Grand Duke set which I’m fairly certain isn’t what Acheron is referring to. I only thought of it due to the memes about how she killed him and turned him into said relics.

There’s another cutscenes with Acheron and that old dude we heard last patch, but I don’t remember much aside from him reminiscing about his companions once being Galaxy Rangers and more chatter about Nihility. This scene however, with Sunday looking all handsome and holy.. OH BOY. He’s gorgeous with the light shinning on him like that. I feel blessed to have witnessed such beauty.

I never thought of him to actually listen to people’s sins, but it suits him rather well. Doesn’t seem like most people recognize him doing so either? Aside from this one pepeshi of course.. either that, or everyone clearly respects Sunday too much while this person could care less on how to act around him. I was gonna make fun of the merchant for having such trivial sins, but if you’re living a life where that’s all you have to worry about, then sign me up.

The confession isn’t all fun and games though as some disbelief about the Family is brought up. Yet another reason for me not to completely trust this holy hot handsome man yet. Looking forward to continuing more later tonight.

[twilightmalachite]

Poltergeist - Garbage Heap Sketch 1

Author: Akira

Characters: Madara, Anzu

Translator: Mika Enstars

Proofer: Revoltrad

"(Actually, come to think about it, it’s been a while since Anzu-san worked with… me.)"

[Read on my blog for the best viewing experience with Oi~ssu ♪]

Season: Winter

Location: Mountain Forest

1 week later. On a trail leading up to Maizuru House, a children’s orphanage somewhere in Tokyo…

Madara: Maaan, pleasant and exhilarating[1]! I had to say it!

Y’know, I was totally stumped being told any wish of mine would be granted outta nowhere like that!

Then I came up with the most brilliant idea, you seeee! I asked the president if I could work as MaM, which I haven’t done in a long tiiime.

Aside from the SS preliminaries, I’ve only been active as Double Face.

But, I think it’s about time for my partner Kohaku-san to concentrate on his activities as Crazy:B—

And now that I was able to get my name out there in SS, I think it’s also a good time for me to resume my activities as MaM in earneeest.

Then Double Face, which has become difficult to handle, can disappear unnoticed!

After that, Kohaku-san and I can primarily work as Crazy:B and MaM respectively.

Double Face does dangerous undercover work. It’s not something meant to last forever.

Truth is, we have a lot of eyes on us from all around the industry for doing some crazy stuff.

If things come to light one of these days, we might even get driven out of the country like Gaaaatekeeper.

People of this country are strangely obsessed with cleanliness, after all.

I’d be fine with it, but my heart would ache to drag Kohaku-san into a situation like that.

The time’s just come for it. Or more like, it’s just time to pay our dues. Our paths were never meant to cross in the first place, so from now on… It’d be for the best if we go our separate ways.

So instead I asked the president to “give me a MaM-like job!” Hahaha!

Now what exactly is a ‘MaM-like job’? Even I can’t answer thaaaat—I guess I don’t even know anymore, huuuh! Hahahahaha!

……

Madara: (…So awkward!)

(I’d requested the president to make Anzu-san the producer in charge of my work as MaM—)

(Anzu-san, you’ve been wearing a straight face and haven’t said a single word the entire way here! What’s wrong? Does your stomach hurt, maybe?)

Anzu-san, Anzu-san! Isn’t it about time you stop being so mean and explain to me what the details of this job aaaare?

How come you seem so irritateeed? Anzu-san, girls are prettier when they smile, y’knooow? C’mooon, smile, smile~! ♪

Madara: —Eek!?

(W-Whaaat? Why are you looking at me with eyes that scream “Shut up, I’ll kill you!”, Anzu-saaan? Seriously, what’s going ooon? Did I do something wrong agaaain?)

(Hmm~… Anzu-san was put into an inconvenient position during SS, so she might be under a lot of stress…)

(Actually, come to think about it, it’s been a while since Anzu-san worked with… me.)

(Huh? When was the last time we worked together? Now that I’m thinking about it, this is the first time we’ve been able to have a private conversation in a while… Since the Antique Market, right?)

(I have a feeling I had said some terrible things to Anzu-san back then when we parted. “Goodnight, and farewell, Producer-san”…)

(But I mean, at that time, I had seriously thought it’d be best if Anzu-san wasn’t involved with me anymore. I thought it was the most appropriate thing to do then.)

(Besides, Anzu-san, I’ve already said every hurtful thing I can, haven’t I?)

(But even if my words didn’t hurt her, she might be pissed off over having them thrown at her one-sidedly, and without context. Is she angry? Is that what’s going on, I wonder?)

Anzu-sa~n…? Do you think you could maybe tell me why you’re angryyy? Isn’t saying “Figure it out yourself!” something that little kids dooo~?

And you’re not a troublesome little girl like that, right Anzu-san?

—Eek!? Huh, what? We’ve arrived at our destination?

Which is…

Oh, so there’s something out here all by itself in a remote place like this, huuuh? What’s this building, is it a hospital?

Ummm, what did you say…? Maizuru House, an orphanage?

This is an orphanage? Umm, so am I here to give a performance as an idol to cheer up the kids here?

Is that my job here? Could that be it?

Anzu-sa~n? Can’t you at least reply to my questions, pleaaase…?

[ ☆ ]

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This is his familiar yukai tsuukai (愉快痛快)!