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pigeonwhumps · 7 months

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A hole in the family

Sanctuary masterlist

Taglist: @littlespacecastle @mirasmirages @flowersarefreetherapy @whumpinggrounds @painful-pooch @i-eat-worlds @a-funeral-romance @rainydaywhump

Samantha, aka Lea's, family mourns.

1.2k

CWs: BBU setting, grief and mourning, presumed dead, implied assault, self-neglect

Samantha's declared dead two months after she goes missing. The police have pulled a body out of the river and apparently there's evidence that it's hers.

Omari... doesn't say much, when he's informed. What is there to say? His daughter's dead. And then he has to tell everyone else.

It's hard to believe it. He's not sure he can. He has to write an obituary, and he's starting to get why people are always described as perfect in them. It feels like tainting her, somehow, to put down anything less. She had personality, life, so many quirks that made people argue with her but he can't put them down on paper. She is was, still, his perfect daughter.

He avoids the river, now. He used to go there with Sam to feed the birds, a bag of dried peas every week, and he wonders, sometimes. Is it an insult to her memory not to go there anymore? Do birds remember? But he can't. Not knowing they pulled her body out of there.

He still goes to the orchestra concerts, him and Kayla. Sam's gone but for a few hours they can pretend she's still there, unable to see that she's not with their eyes closed, just listening to the music and forgetting, just for a little bit, that it's not Sam performing on stage. That that's not the reason she's not sitting with them, even though it should be.

Mariano cleans the flat, almost obsessively. Everything is sparkling, now, more than it ever was. It helps that Samantha's mess is out of the way, in her bedroom, but that just makes Mariano feel worse.

Everything is sparkling except for Sam's room. All the winter coats are tidied away, except for Samantha's. After all, she might need it. She might come back and need it and then what would they do?

And she can't bear to go in Samantha's room. She just can't. Ade and Faith and Alaia do, she knows Alaia sleeps there sometimes, but she just can't.

Her daughter is dead. Or missing, as Ade says, but gone all the same.

It's time to clean the good coats. It's almost time for the spring concert. She'll clean Samantha's too, and her shoes. Maybe they'll get a miracle.

The funeral was beautiful. Too beautiful. The orchestra played Venus, with a seat left free for her daughter, and it was as cheerful as Samantha would've liked it to be, and packed full to bursting, but she could hardly bear it. Her daughter is dead, and no matter the type of funeral that's not going to change.

They're having another argument, her and Faith. Pizza toppings, this time. After Faith being wrong for the umpteenth time, Kayla turns automatically to Sam. So does her sister.

She's not there.

Of course she's not there, she hasn't been there for months.

It hits Kayla like a truck every time, bowling her over. Her chest is crushed and she can barely breathe.

Sam is dead.

Her baby sister, who was born so tiny, who has always loved music, who would have been world-famous if she'd had a chance to grow, if she hadn't hated the idea so much. Who she'd put her first paycheck towards so Sam could continue the violin lessons she loved so much when the cost went up.

Their last conversation was an argument. She doesn't remember what about anymore, it doesn't matter. She thought they'd make up later, they always did, but then Sam had gone to her concert and something had happened to her and they'd found her violin a few days later, the case scuffed from what the police said was likely a struggle, and what happened to her?

And now... now they won't see her again. She can't make up with her baby sister, or apologise, or even just see her.

She still goes to watch the concerts, with her dad. It feels like she should. Not going would be abandoning Sam for good. And it feels like, just for an hour, Sam is with them, somewhere. On the stage, in life, but... Kayla doesn't believe in ghosts, but if she did, she'd say that this is where she would be.

It's family film night. They're watching a film. Or trying to, anyway. No-one can agree.

Samantha's vote goes towards a horror film. She'd have to hide behind the nearest person, first jumpscare in, but she'd vote to watch one anyway.

Eventually, Alaia votes for a horror film, holding Hugo tight. And so with two votes they start one.

Faith misses having Sam curled up beside her, head pillowed on Faith's shoulder, feet tucked under her. Face ready to be hidden in Faith if she needs it.

Her dad starts the film.

She watches, tension rising, until the first jumpscare. The lack of a squeal of fear, a tightening of pressure on her arm, a face burying itself into her, popcorn spraying, it's worse than the jumpscare. She stifles a sob and stands up.

"I can't watch this."

Sam rubbed people up the wrong way sometimes, she didn't always get on with her family and Faith wouldn't have wanted her to, but she's Faith's sister and she's gone and Faith wants her back.

Sammy's teddy is lonely now. Alaia is looking after him, so he's still warm and hugged and loved, but he must be lonely without Sam. There's no music now, filtering through the flat from Sammy's room as she plays.

Played?

Plays.

Alaia is careful to keep Hugo clean and tidy and in nice pyjamas, but it's not enough. He must still be lonely. Alaia is. She's always empty now. She hugs Hugo when she feels especially sad or anxious, her tears making him soggy as she remembers Sammy and their games, but it's not the same. It's not the same as hugging Sammy.

Especially when Sammy can't do anything about the pain this time. She's the cause of it and she can't do anything about it.

Ade's devastated. It's not romance, not quite, what they had. They never defined it, exactly. But for all that it was, she's the most important person in his life.

And now she's gone.

He doesn't know what to do with himself. What is he supposed to do, now that Sammy's gone?

It takes a week. A week, before his brother shoves him in the shower and orders food.

He's lost his job by now, probably. He doesn't care.

Everything he sees reminds him of her. The Foodhall Project, where they first met. Black and red braids, a yellow top. A black woman laughing, head thrown back, unselfconscious. A violin on a tram, patches carefully stitched or glued onto the case. A snippet of music by Holst, her favourite composer. Dual language books, Swahili CDs, adverts for language lessons.

He hasn't been able to keep up the Swahili lessons without Sammy there to poke and prod and tease him.

Some days, it's all he can do to wake up.

Eventually, he makes it onto the darker, more secretive corners of the internet. Darker is maybe the wrong word, because what they're doing is good, hope. He gives them a description of Sammy to circle around the safehouses. Maybe she's not dead. Maybe she'll turn up.

Nothing comes of it.

#whump #whump writing #bbu #box boy universe #lady whump #ade oc #785 oc #technically she doesnt make an appearance but this is all about grieving her so im tagging her anyway #alaia is way too young to watch a proper horror film but shhh #her family doesnt care about that #not very much bbu? like its set in it but not pet whump #not sure you could even tell its bbu if you didnt know

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ezamevolni · 2 years

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Traces: Magic wedding leaf

aka the perilla leaf fight

I've having too much fun making Traces posts :D There's a dozen drafts lined up now because Jinkook is always on record and there are so many pieces to the same puzzles. I especially love the continuity over days, weeks, months and even years. I still remember last year when I declared wanting to write and analyze Jinkook but it's actually impossible to do so because everything is in their content already. There's not much room left for inferences. Maybe I'll still work on that one post about the history of shipping since these days, it looks like most shippers are at most 2-3 years into the fandom. There are some things you just have to be there realtime to know what it was like :/

Who knew this quarrel could have such a long continuity?

I'm cackling every time I think of Jk's pout during the debate, and even more now that they've shown the Busan concert episode.

But seriously Bighit, we get ok. Stop exposing them.

The videos were released out of order so they've been arranged by sequence of actual filming.

The origin of the discourse:

BTS MBTI Lab (filmed early Mar 2022) starts at 20:54

This debate is so hot in the fandom there shouldn't be a single person left who doesn't know about it. The controversy level is even higher than the [mint choco ice cream] debate.

The question is: are you ok with your partner peeling a perilla leaf for a friend?

The reason why it's a debate is because perilla leaves are notoriously hard to peel apart, very thin and tend to stick together as layers. It could be considered an intimate gesture peeling the leaf for someone.

Jk's stance: absolutely no. What if they end up getting married? Also, no peeling shrimp either.

Jin's stance: married??? There's nothing wrong with helping out a friend. I'll peel shrimp, cut fish if it benefits the mass.

It's also hilarious that Jk had clear distinctions. He stated that scooping noodles or soup is fine. So when Jin indignantly asked, "Why? Why not the perilla leaf?" Jk finally burst out that peeling a perilla leaf can lead to hand holding, then eye contact, then marriage.

Watch the clip for the audio to understand how heated (loud) the argument got. And it's pretty clear Jk and Jin were arguing as two different parties in the same relationship...Jk the one watching and Jin the one peeling for their imaginary friend.

And for people who still believe the members haven't dated since debut or aren't in ongoing relationships, maybe take note of the few who had strong opinions during the debate (esp. the ones who insisted 'they didn't care').

The aftermath:

Festa dinner 2022 (filmed 5.20.22)

Ignore the important message of this festa and just focus on their petty conversation and dinner table manners.

The following gifs are almost the same time stamp, just cropped slightly differently to focus on different players and how they eat king crab.

First up Suga

Next up Jin and Jk

Jin was saying in a light mocking way, "Awoo Jungkook-shi can't even do this." and Jk laughed cutely.

So the MBTI lab video was released a week before this filming, and Jin likely watched it because he brought it up after offering to peel king crab for the members.

Jin: "I think we can just use one set of hands to do the work"

(Nods in agreement.)

BTW I rewatched the first part of the video (armys know why) and saw how these two naturally ate off each other's plates, helped to cut/reach for food etc. For example, Jin nudged JK to get the plate of noodles, were out of frame when picking up the noodles but once done, the noodles were on Jk's plate instead of Jin's and Jin was constantly eating off Jk's plate afterwards. Domestic, cute.

The happy ending:

Busan Expo rehearsal day (10.14.22)

This almost seems like it was shown on purpose. (BH I see you) They didn't have to expose Jinkook like that.

On rehearsal day 2, Jinkook sat down to eat together and Jin picked up a sesame leaf for Jk.

I'm curious who brought over the plate of perilla leaves because that wasn't there when Jin was eating nor when Jk sat down with the two bowls in front of him.

Overall, amicableness and good vibes all around.

Also perilla leaf goes surprisingly well with cream-based pasta. I had a period when I was obsessed with the combo.

The epilogue:

Run BTS Next Top Genius (filmed early Nov 2022)

V and Jk weren't eating the pizza because they were on a diet and to tease V, Jin handed him the pizza crust which he normally doesn't eat.

Then,

Sincerely, thank you Jimin bringing that topic up again.

But notice how Jin and Jk were about to start bickering again because of opposite views, RM, Suga and Jimin stepped in before it could get heated? Subsequently, Jimin remembered the perilla leaf debate from months ago, and blurted out his question.

Look at Jin: eyes down, mouth closed, concentrating on his pickle as if he wasn't at the heart of the debate last season.

This happened after the Busan concert and notice neither of the two protagonists volunteered new information on their truce? Instead of pretending like the topic didn't concern him, Jin could've easily chimed in, "I only peel perilla leaves for Jk now."

Because it's true.

#jinkook #kookjin #fighting on record thanks to their jobs #it's like some kind of long term reality show #bh did you do this on purpose #because the perilla leaf debate was shown as a 'bonus clip' and then they went ahead and filmed Jin peeling a leaf for Jk half a year later #The plate of perilla leaves wasn't even there at first #Who put it there #we all know why jinkook's pizza crust quarrel reminded jimin of the perilla leaf one

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squidsqwag · 1 year

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yknow what since im too tired 2 DRAW them but too hyped up 2 NOT do smth involving it heres a buncha random tidbits abt my ( very work in progress … ) tmnt iteration , tmnt : inheritance !! :3

the main premise is this : splinter dies , and with leo being the oldest of the turtles ( 14 y/o at the time ), he leaves her with the responsibility of taking care of her siblings on her own and becoming their sensei instead of him. i heart making characters suffer at a young age <3 ( im evilll )

it takes place currently in the dreadful year of 2020 , but i might change that later. either way , the ages would still b the same ! leo is 19, mikey & donnie r 16 ( twinsies ), and raph is 14 ( the idea of this typically big grumpy hotheaded dude being the youngest has always been a funny idea 2 me lol ), casey is 16 and april is 18

heres sum lgbt stuff 4 ya — leo ( aka lea ): she/her , transgirl , lesbian. donnie : they/them , intersex bigender ( demiboy/demigirl ), omnisexual ace. mikey : literally just read my bio lol. raph : he/it/fang/rawr , feralgender boy , aro. casey : he/they , transmasc , queer. april : it/its/april/aprils , astrogender , unlabeled. karai : she/they , butchgender , lesbian. both splinter ( male ) and shredder ( female ) r cis and bisexual. phew ! dats a lotta queers

casey gets introduced b4 april here. im still tryna figure out exactly how he finds these weirdos .. hes always gunna b a loser vigilante in my eyes

april’s role is EXTREMELY different from normal. i stole the awsom idea 2012 had with april being half kraang and it spiraled from there .. april’s been living with the kraang its entire life. i havent decided on if the turtles meet april in the obligatory space arc OR right after the kraang show up on earth , but either way they talk sum sense into it , leading 2 april abandoning the kraang n living with the turtles

donnie n april r bffs 4eva !!! shortly after it befriended the turtles , april took a great interest in learning abt earth n stuff so donnie immediately jumped on the opportunity 2 info dump 2 sumbody thats actually interested in what they have 2 say. april writes down everything donnie says during info dumps. it also does this with pretyy much evry1 else bc april wants 2 get along with them better by learning things they like !!! <3

yea shredder’s a girl , I LOVE WOMEN 💥💥💥💥 ( explosion sfx )

( TW TRANSPHOBIA ) fun fact while splinter was alive he nevr once called lea by her preferred name , prns , etc. it’s complicated bc splinter and lea had a rlly good relationship otherwise , but the constant misgendering always left a bad taste in her mouth. splinter’s death meant she would nevr see her father change his mind 2 accept her as his daughter , evr. all those years of hoping and waiting were 4 nothing ! yippee !!!!

dw im working in jonatello sumwhere cmon yknow me i would nevr miss out on an opportunity 2 shove them into evrything

same thing with aprileo i need more of them pretyy please

#🦑misc #this is such a passion project u can probably tell haha X’)#tmnt: inheritance

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fatexbound · 4 years

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Anon asked: "Why did you and dad call me Miracle mama?" The young boy said looking up at his mother, his own crimson eyes meeting her own. Though a yawn did leave his lips as little fingers sleepily rubs through dark ebony locks of hair before he reaches up to fix a yellow scarf received from his father that dragged along the floor.

Kids that drown me in feels | Accepting

Some downtime with her family was nice, sitting on the sofa and switching channels on the TV. Ryoji said he’d be a little late and she was under the impression that her son was asleep as well until he came up to her with an ever so innocent question. “Honey, what are you still doing up?” She’d tell him to go back to bed, but his query made her scoop him up on her lap. “Oh. nevermind.” She chuckled as one hand that had her eternal wedding ring took hold of the yellow scarf almost instantly as though it would slip through her fingers. Again.

But she can’t let the past haunt her now. Smiling sweetly, she held him close. “Why? Well, to put it simply... there were a few complications during your birth. The doctors said your chances of survival were very slim... but here you are, alive and strong.” Hamuko rested her head against the boy’s as she kissed it tenderly, her smile vanishing for a moment whilst she thought back on everything that transpired over the years.

Falling in love with Death, him somehow surviving, wondering why when she should have died as well. Her fate was in the cards, as Nyx had declared. Perhaps fate had changed her plans at the last minute. They lived together, happy as can be, a few years later Ryoji proposed to her in the sweetest, heart-warming way possible and she accepted. Then came the matter of having a family. They both wanted it; most of all Ryoji with that look in his eyes. So, they gave it a shot and after the second attempt, she was pregnant. Something that neither of them thought was possible. Then during her checkup, the doctors had warned her that the ‘creature’ inside of her was fragile and wouldn’t survive. Yet... they beat those odds. Having a son with the love of her death. She couldn’t be happier.

Snapping out of her daydream, her smile returned. “You’re a very special child, Daisuke.” She whispered. He really was, having mild headaches and crying about it when the moon was full, so they’d have to comfort him until it passed. The Dark Hour was no more, but they both knew who was the cause of it. The poor boy will probably have to live with it for the rest of his life... however long it will be. She was scared of losing him. Regardless, she took a deep breath and combed through his black locks with her fingers. “It’s past your bedtime, however, we can talk for a bit if you want. Mama and papa will always be here for you, darling.”

#Anon #Hamuko answers;#adult Hamuko AU #Don't Follow Me; You'll End Up In My Arms {Hamryo ; siamxshade}#hello 911 i'm DYING. AAAAAAAAAA #p3p spoilers #i've been waiting to use this tag.#death tw #pregnancy tw #long post #aka Lea writes writes too much

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ofmythsandmadness · 4 years

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touch-starved | d.h.

or...the seven times it takes diego hargreeves to realises he’s touch-starved, and the one time he actually acts on it.

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SUMMARY: diego x gn!reader. an idiot in love, told entirely from his pov as he walks back on a series of monumental moments in his life. WARNINGS: a tad bit of foul language (bc i can never contain myself, jeez). allusion to sexual acts (nothing explicit, but if you know, you know). flowery garbage writing. probably poor characterization. a weird ending. WORD COUNT: 5.7k NOTES: it’s way too late (early?) for me to be putting this out. but after literally driving myself to tears over this stupid thing, i’m forcing myself to publish it and leave it to the world, for better or for worse. it’s...yeah. i hope it’s alright. x

BUY ME A COFFEE HERE. | CHECK OUT MY OTHER WRITINGS HERE.

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THE FIRST TIME HE REALISED WAS IN THE SUMMER.

“Can I say something weird?”

There is a nervous half-giggle that came after the question, like you aren't quite sure how he’s going to take whatever slipped from your gentle, just parted lips. It hangs much longer than the five words you passed to him and he almost forgets what you asked entirely, so hung up on the breathless fashion your chuckle had come.

But when you blink at him and let your beseeching eyes hover over his, he has to let go of the sound and return to the present.

“Sure,” he says dumbly. “What?”

He loses your eyes then and he finds himself following, eager to see what could have lost your attention so fast. His frown digs heavier as you stare at the table he’s leaned over. There isn’t anything there but his harness scattered across the worn wood and a knife in one hand. He’s been idly fiddling with as some show titters in the background, but his weapon (mal??)practices have never been much interest to you before. So...

Slowly a warm smile comes to cradle your cheeks. It rests as delicate as a crashing wave colliding with the great cliffs you had painted once -- like with everything you did, your smile’s a charging force that transforms you entirely and leaves him in awe that anyone could feel something so strongly. He watches with total enthrallment and for once, he’s not ashamed to feel so.

“You have like, really nice hands.”

You drawl the statement out like it’s some kind of joke. Though, the intense look you so briefly shoot him tells him it's anything but. And suddenly he cannot do anything; the knife falls from his hands and clatters to the table and his fingers tremble under your careful stare, paralysed.

“I-I-”

“-I know, weird compliment, but,” you chuckle again, low and soft. You shrug. “I was staring at them and realised how nice your hands are.”

“Uh…” he doesn’t know what to do with that information. What does one say to that? Is thank you enough, or is he supposed to just force a laugh and pretend like he is not completely ruined by the way you look at his hands? Compliments are not a usual weapon of choice, but when they come from your lips -- Diego can die right there and go overjoyed.

“Thanks,” he mutters, folding and unfolding his hands on the table. “I...never thought about my hands like that.”

You brighten. In a flash of pastel movement you were pressing close, close, close to him and reaching for a fist. He’s again powerless, forced to just watch you pull his fingers in between your own, softly running gentle pads against his bruised knuckles. The touch is cool but he feels his body combust at the mere swish of skin-to-skin contact and he realises,

maybe he could crave someone’s touch.

“You should,” you grin, exquisite under your apartment’s shitty lighting and the flashes of whatever’s happening on the T.V across the room. “You could like, seriously be a hand model or something. Go-orgeous fingers.”

And maybe, he starts to crave yours.

━

THE SECOND TIME HAPPENS WEEKS LATER.

He’d fantasized about your touch most of the days between it, but the thoughts had been forced to be fleeting and he had avoided considering the way you looked at him like he could actually hang the moon and stars -- and it only ever caught up to him in the ebbs of night, when he couldn’t sleep and just stared at the ceiling, considering what it would be like to really feel you against his hands and not let you slip away.

He so rarely let the sun touch his skin anymore. It wasn’t intentional to adapt a vampire lifestyle -- but between the shifts that let him keep his dingy ‘home’ and the nights he spends racing around the cursed city, trying to do the right thing (or stick it to his dad, depending on the night and how bleary his head felt), Diego rarely catches himself leaving the gym early than eleven anymore.

A fact that seems to exasperate you, and fuels what you dubbed an intervention. Aka, forcing him to wander around the city just barely kissed by autumn’s chilly embrace. And though he did argue against it (profusely, because he’s still that stubborn sonofabitch), he’s grateful for you still.

“I think we need to make this a regular occurrence,” you sing, tossing a smile over your shoulder. You skip several paces ahead of him as you soak in every bit of sunshine the crisp fall air could offer you. And he flounders and watches as he wonders what it would feel like to have that much energy from merely existing.

“I think I’m gonna have to mandate this. I’ll force you to schedule this into your life, and I’ll take shifts off from work so we can appreciate the afternoon sun while we can. It won’t be long ‘til winter you know.”

He chuckles hesitantly, “the sun’ll still be there in the winter.”

“Sure, but barely. And it’ll be cold then! The sun ain’t nice when it’s cold.”

He laughs again, and you join him. And it’s easy -- because it’s you.

“Diego!”

“Huh?”

You stop then, dropping your hands to your hips and glaring at him. Even from several feet away he can make out the infuriatingly adorable pout that puckers your pretty lips and the way he wishes he could go back in time and learn to paint, so he could capture the curve of your --

“--why are you so slow?!”

“I -- I’m not slow.”

“You are too! You’re dragging your feet like I’m forcing you to go to the dentist or somethin’.” You squint at him as the sun heightens his reach in the great blue sky. “Man, are you that allergic to a good time?”

“Shut up, I’m not that bad.”

The pout gives as easily as honey dripped -- that is to say, he adores the treacly sweet and slow slip from puckered lips to the easy smile you give him. Your entire heart’s behind the look just as it always is. You trot back up the path to him and held your hand out to him, wriggling it in the air.

“What?” he asks, frowning through a slow smile.

“Take my hand.”

“I…” he hesitates again. “Why?”

“Because you’re slow, and I want to make it to the coffee place before next year. Duh,” you drawl, still shaking your hand like one would to a little kid. “Now, come on!”

You pull and he comes without a fuss, dazed as you bumble on about whatever miraculous happenings go on inside your mind. He hardly hears a thing. Every part of his body is fixated on the soft brush of your thumb against his hand, rubbing soothingly -- he isn’t even sure if you knew you’re aware you’re doing it, but he is. Hell, he can’t feel anything else but that.

Maybe your touch could be a tether.

━

HE HADN’T MEANT FOR THE THIRD TIME. Hadn’t planned to make an event out of it, anyways.

“You’re a fool, Diego. You know that?”

Obviously, he responds silently, grimacing as the cloth presses harder into his cuts. That’s why he did it. Because he is a fool. Honestly, that sums up the majority of the things he does in his life. Or doesn’t do, in the case of you.

Is it bad, if as you scold him, he’s creating a list of even more reasons to love you?

“I mean, one of these days you’re going to come here impaled on like, a pole or something and then -- what am I supposed to do with that?” Your tongue clicks like a disapproving mother’s, but your eyes still dance with childlike mischief as you work. “I am not a nurse.”

“Could’a fooled me, with those hands.”

You glare up at him over your lashes, a sight that made his breath hitch. “Quiet, you.”

Diego does as you said -- but not for any bits or for the joke, only because the way you look at him suddenly made his body tremble with the force of a thousand men and all he wants is to grab your neck and drag you up to meet his lips, finally be rid of the burning sensation in his gut that makes him want to ask the most obscene of--

“--does it hurt?”

He blinks, forcing away the images flashing in his mind so he can focus on the real you again. “Uh -- does what, hurt?”

You take that as a joke, laughing low like his horny idiocy deserved such praise. “This, asshat. Does this,” you press harder with the swab, making him cringe, “hurt?”

“Shit -- yes, it hurts! What’s that for?!”

“Had to make sure you were with me still! Sorry,” you hum, sounding everything but. But your grip softens. “You’re lucky. This could have needed stitches.”

Diego snorts. “It’s not that bad.”

“You look like the fookin’ dino from Jurassic Park felt you up.”

“Not that fookin’ bad,” he mocks back.

“Your accent is appalling.”

“So’s yours.”

You press harder; when he scowls, you giggle, pleased to have won the battle again.

The rest comes in silence. You stand between his legs, mopping at his cuts as you are often wont to do when he stumbles into your window. And he tries not to think about the way your weight so casually presses up against his torso as you reach to his temple, parted lips just out of reach. He could do it; he could just reach out and grab your chin, pull you in and kiss you with all the fucking passion that made his stomach roil.

But he doesn’t budge. There is no way you want that and he would never push past that fragile boundary without asking, no matter what the primal part of his mind fantasizes. His eyes fall instead down to his lap, staring at the folds on his pants as your fingers graze across his skin.

“There,” finally comes, along with you stepping away. Your distance leaves a cold chill running down Diego’s spine; he wonders if he asked you to come back, if you would. “Almost done.”

“Almost? What’s left?”

The next few moments move like a movie. The ones he only ever watches with you or with Klaus; the cheesy slow-mo romances, where the two main characters constantly dance around in a will-they-won’t-they that usually drives him nuts. Everything is always so slow in them and he usually hates them -- he did hate them. But when it’s his hands cradled in yours and you are smiling sweet and gentle as a honeybee, hell he’d take every single second of those crap rom-coms, if it leads to that moment more.

You lean in and, holding his hands in your own like an anchor held a boat to shore, press your lips against his temple. The slightest sting from the pressure builds but it falls with the blink of an eye. Your lips are cold, delicate, brushing twice against the cut before pulling away.

“There. Now I’m done.”

Maybe, you’re just some kind of angel.

But then, why are you bothering with him?

━

THE FOURTH HAPPENED SO FAST, he nearly misses it.

You pull him in close, examining his clothes and face for any glaring wounds. When you find nothing but dirt and a couple surface scratches, your worried expression melt into something akin with relief; a shiny-eyed, trembling lip smile that deserves its place in the greatest museums.

“I’m so glad you’re okay,” you whisper, seemingly untrusting of your vocal cords. You sniffle. “I was - I was so--”

“--I’m okay.” It sounds more like a revelation than a reassurance and he repeats himself twice, just to make sure you understand. His hands still grip tight to your forearms, holding you to him in case you would disappear, too. “I’m okay. Everything’s fine.”

You nod and even as you pull away from his hold, you launch. Your arms lace around his neck and your face instantly finds a place to bury itself, right into his shoulder. Your body shakes; he realises that you’re crying into him, so relieved with him being there.

The embrace is short. Too short. He doesn’t do enough to hold your clinging form, only standing there slightly swaying and just barely grazing your back, He considers it too long and doesn’t act enough even when he wants to beg you to never let go again. And when you pull away, you refuse your tears again, sniffling through a smile and asking if he wants some food. But the embrace remained ingrained in his thoughts like a disease; it polluted everything else until everything was you, just you, holding him and wanting him.

Maybe, he was deserving. Maybe he deserved to be wanted. Was that justification enough?

━

THE FIFTH HE ALMOST DIES.

Not literally that time -- no, he’s done enough of that to you. It’s more of a metaphorical sort, making his heart stop as your fingers just graze against his stubble strewn chin, his breath catching on the lump in his throat as he realises yet again that nothing could be more beautiful than your smile.

Diego is not a formal man, nor had he ever really been. Even at the Academy his uniform was almost always somehow out of place or wrinkled or missing a detail. He hates shirts that buttoned all the way up to his throat and pants that have to be pleated that one specific way for no reason at all. If it isn’t important, he wears whatever is closest to him, or his domino-mask-and-leather getup if he’s ‘working’. Hell, the man isn’t even sure he had ever worn a suit outside of his childhood years and Allison’s wedding.

“You look...different.”

He swings fast around to see you leaning against his doorway. You’re all pink cheeks and cheeky grins. Something about the way you look him up and down makes him suddenly want to hide, slip away so you could not see how stupid he looked in this stupid monkey suit clinging to his arms and thighs like stupid plastic wrap. You probably see him as a circus animal, stuck in some stupid performance outfit and told to juggle fire.

(Honestly, juggling fire would be worlds easier than doing whatever this was, though.)

Slowly, you step into the room, eyes never leaving him. He gulps.

“You look good, Diego.”

He blinks. That is...unexpected. “Y-yeah?” Damn his voice for giving out on him; it comes out squeaky and prepubescent, sounding every bit of uncertainty he feels. “I-I mean, I--”

“--relax, hot stuff,” you wink and his face fills with heat. “You look great. But, your collar…”

Diego glances down only to scowl at the mess of buttons he left around his neck. “Shit, yeah.”

“Let me?”

But you’re already coming to him, though, hands outstretching and delicately folding themselves across his chest. He wonders if you could feel the way his heart beat like there were a thousand drums locked into his chest, or that you knew you smelled like the gods’ ambrosia, honey -sweet smoke dripping from your velvet form. Are you aware how intoxicating your mere presence is?

“Can I?”

He nods dumbly, not trusting his words.

With careful fingers, you weave the buttons together that have been left undone. You then reach up higher, pressing down his collar.

You hesitate against him, hands still folded into the sharp white fabric. Slowly, one set of fingers unfurl and lift to barely brush against his jaw. It’s a mere allusion to what it would be to have you cradle his face in your caring palms and it only leaves him craving more.

Your lips curl up too, coloured as deep as the fabric that clings to your exquisite form. Just the tip of hot pink snakes out of your mouth, pressing slyly to the top lip, riling the hotblood boiling inside him right up to the brim.

“What…” the single syllable comes out strangled and hoarse. You’re strangling the life out of him without even moving a finger. Do you know your power? “What are...what are you doing?”

In hindsight, that’s probably the stupidest question he could have asked.

You baulk and immediately pushed away from him. The fingers glide from his chest and chin and leave him cold. Gone was the confidence you had offered so easily before; he watches, stunned as your eyes fall to the floor, no longer eager to meet his.

“You look good, Diego.” You smile but that time it doesn’t look real at all. “Have fun tonight.”

“Wait, I--”

--you offer a wave and nothing more. Your figure crosses the room and leaves him alone in between the four walls that seemed to press into him without your comforting presence.

Maybe, you could care for him, too. As he wants you too. Is it selfish to think so?

━

THE SIXTH TIME, HE’S ALMOST ASLEEP.

Honestly, Diego isn’t sure how his head had ended up in your lap, or when his body had melted so effortlessly into your own. It wasn’t the alcohol; two beers isn’t enough to kill all of his conditioned issues or turn him into a total sop. It hadn’t even been intentional, nothing about making room or trying to do anything.

But there you are. Your thighs are his pillows and your hands kiss across his scalp, weaving through his hair like it’s yarn to be woven into something beautiful. Once in a while you pause and he thinks that that’s it, you would force him up -- but then you continue like nothing had happened and he continues to lay like a fish out of water across your legs.

Neither of you had talked about the incident before. It was simply avoidance until you both decide to brush it off and move on, forgetting all about the awkwardness. Or, at least, that’s what you silently promised.

But it’s late. Neither of you are thinking. Or, he isn’t at least, when his head slips from the couch to your thinly clad shoulder. And you hardly react when he relaxes even more, silently gesturing for him to use your thighs as a headrest as the movie neither of you are watching drones on. You make some sort of joke, something stupid and it usually wouldn’t be enough to convince him to act so foolishly. But he is tired, and you are you, and it’s all too easy to give in to you.

So he lays. Your hands in his hair. On your lap. Like a baby incapable of even sitting on his own. He should feel unbelievably stupid, right?

“You’ve got beautiful hair,” you mumble, eyes dragging off the television screen to your lap. He barely catches your soft, smiling gaze before it slips back up, but the memory sticks with him long minutes after. “Wish you’d let me play with it more.”

But he can’t bring himself to hate this moment.

He half-snorts, half-laughs because what a funny statement that is. In his state of lovesick, exhausted delirium, Diego hardly recognises himself telling you that ‘you can play with his hair any time you want’.

“Really?”

“Uh…” he had not meant to say that out loud. “I-I--”

“--thanks, honey.” Your hands linger against his temple before stroking down his wavy locks. Honey. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

He pulls off of you after a short while -- not because he wants to, because he’s guilty to take your loving hands for his selfish needs. He claims the bathroom excuse and leaves with his head floating in the clouds. The domestic bliss you offer him wasn’t something he thought he wanted, before -- but every time he leaves your bubble, he finds himself more and more starved for your touch.

He leaves your place high on your smile and still stuck on the way you combed through his hair. Even after pulling away yet again, he’s still happy and actually hopeful.

Maybe, he could actually have this, more than just one random rainy night. Maybe he should try.

━

THE SEVENTH TIME, HE ALMOST KISSES YOU.

Almost, because he, Diego ‘number one himbo’ Hargreeves is a self-labelled idiot who loses all cognitive abilities and brain cells when he lays eyes on you, and fails to be able to use them for all the time you’re around him.

And it’s the moment when he finally fully comes to realise the extent of his overwhelming, absolute adoration for you.

He’s never been so bad with that sort of thing. Before he could throw an easy smile and wink his way into a heart he’d no doubt break the following morning and pull a quick-run attraction like it wasn’t anything. But with you? The idea of even your touch turned him bashful and running for the hills, you know...like an idiot.

It takes you pulling him along every single time for him to react and even then, it’s never enough. You’re always left with a pouting lip and that strange, far-off look in your eyes that tells him he’s screwed it up all over again. Every time you get close he’s too blind to react the right way.

Your head on his shoulder, the world’s at peace. He wants you to stay by his side forever. He’ll hold you as long as you want -- hell to his arms, you’re worth the ache or the crick in his neck from bending the wrong way. He’ll let his body waste away and his mind turn to cobwebs if it means an eternity on your balcony, wind in both of your hair and your hands interlacing between his own.

“This is nice,” you murmur. “Yeah?”

He nods. His chin bumps awkwardly against the crown of your head, but you don’t seem to mind.

“I don’t normally like the quiet. But it’s nice like this. With...with you…” you hesitate on the last syllables and the ‘you’ comes out thick and garbled. But he gets it anyways, and somehow he has the emotional strength to pull you even close to his hulking frame. You’re very close to sliding onto his lap and he’d be lying if the idea to just go all the way doesn’t spring to mind. But he doesn’t move.

“It’s nice, knowing you’re here. Safe, alive...with me.”

Diego smiles into your hair. “It is nice.”

Aaand the ‘most obvious statement of the year’ award goes to him. Yet again. Why do you put up with his thick-headed responses? And why can’t he explain the fuzzy feeling in his throat that he gets from being near you, and the desire to give up everything else just to exist by your side? A simple ‘yeah’ doesn’t cover that and he knows that, he knows he has to tell you the entire adoring truth but --

“I like being around you, Diego. You know that, right?”

If he’s being honest...he can’t really believe that. The idea that someone like you enjoys his company is a farfetched concept. But his head bobs up and down again anyways.

“I, uh...I like our friendship.”

Did you -- did you just friendzone him?!

Did he really just --

“--but sometimes…” you snort out a derisive laugh, “sometimes I wish we were a bit more. Y’know?”

He shifts his weight on the chair and stares down at you, unsure what to make out of any of it. “I - uh - whatdoyoumean?”

“I just, I think we’re good together.” You move too, so he can finally see the pretty way the moonlight bounces off your irises. You’re smiling, and he can’t help but smile too, hopeful and eager as a puppy would be. “And I want to, just...man, I wasn’t expecting this to be so hard to say.”

Vaguely, Diego hears himself respond with a grunt (it’s meant to be an ‘it’s okay’, but apparently English isn’t his strong suit).

“I just like having you around. A lot, if that’s not obvious. I know I’m, heh, kind of a lot sometimes. And I’m trying not to be so uh, affectionate because I know that’s a lot for some people and I never want to overstep, or--”

“--you’re not,” he says quickly, finally finding his voice after oceans of gaping. “I like you being affectionate. It’s nice.”

Your smile grows. “Okay, that’s good.” You hold his fingers a little closer and he’s on cloud nine, staring at you like you’re the eighth wonder of the modern world. “Because if I’m being completely honest here, I don’t want to stop. I...I like you. Generally, in the sense of, more than just friendship. D’you get what I’m saying here?”

“Uh…”

“I don’t want to read into things too much, but I can’t stop myself from feeling really strongly about you. And I don’t want to go on like this, without telling you I’m like, head over heels for you at this point.” You blink up at him, pleading for him to not let you down as you finish with, “is there any way you feel the same?”

What Diego should have done, and wanted to do, was to tell her exactly how he felt, and pull her to him and pull the most cheesy, most cliche Hollywood moment in all the world. He’d finally get the girl in the moonlight as the stars sing above him and the world sleeps below and it would be perfect.

What Diego actually does, is leave.

Cold, and alone, with no hand to hold and no head resting on his shoulder. He leaves you bewildered and probably pissed off and he leaves with no explanation at all -- just a garbled sentence or two that adds up to nothing. He drops his shattered heart at the door and wanders home shivering and hopeless, knowing he has just fucked it all up.

As he stares at the sidewalk and plods down the street like a lonely, hard down soul, Diego wonders if he’s deserving of your touch. If he was allowed to open up and feel your affection so strongly as you give it. He wants to like you would probably never believe. He wants to hold you and he doesn’t want to let go again. He’s starved for your touch and he’d trade the sun and stars to keep you by his side, no matter the costs.

But you’re worth more than him. Shouldn’t you offer your heart to a better, kinder man? To someone who knows how to hold you properly, and offer his touch right back? Not someone who shivers away or rejects your kindness like a parasite. But someone brave enough to feed you with all the adoration you’re worthy of. Shouldn’t he be who you seek?

Maybe, Diego muses, the universe is wrong, and the mistress is nothing but a cruel meddler too eager to break his heart.

But maybe, it’s his own fault, and she’s not cruel at all.

His pace quickens a beat, and he suddenly knows what he has to do.

━

DIEGO’S LIKE NINETY-NINE PERCENT CERTAIN THAT NO ONE, no one living soul, had ever said that the eighth time was the charm.

But if he had to be the first, hell he’d ring that bell a thousand times if it got him where he had to be.

He’s running like a madman. And he’s not drunk, even if at least five people have grumbled that about him -- no he’s as sober as the day he was forced into the world. He’s made a thirty-minute walk of hell into somehow a twelve-minute dash through the cold streets of their shitty city and he feels like a god, if gods were desperate sonofabitches who never knew how to acknowledge their feelings until it’s too late.

He takes the stairs, too high on adrenaline to wait for the elevator. He gasps and huffs and pants his way up but he makes it and keels down the hall to your door, falling against it with all his weight. It’s a foolish move but in his defense...his legs are about to give out, and all the energy he’s devoted to this half-baked, foolish, love-drunk plan is very quickly running out.

He pounds against the door weakly. “Hello? Hello? I--”

and then he literally crashes into your apartment.

You both tumble to the floor with a loud thud-thump and he’s so glad you have thick carpeting because he could have probably split your skull right open with the fall. He’s smart enough to roll, so he cushions your upper body with his, but you still groan as you make contact with the floor. His entire bone structure quakes at the feeling of ground hitting him and even with nary a breath in his throat, immediate guilt floods his system.

He falls back and silently screams, wishing he had more tact than this.

“What the hell is wrong with you?!”

“I’m...I’m so sorry,” he offers with a smile. He quickly props himself up over your body and tries to look as sorry as he truly feels, though it’s hard as his breath still won’t come and he’s still absolutely exhausted from running all this way.

Why did he do all this again?

Oh, yeah.

“I-I love you,” he spurts, followed by him rolling off and promptly falling into a coughing/choking/hacking fit.

You lay beside him, silent and stunned. He can’t see you as he coughs but his mind tries to put the pieces together, and none of it looks good. You’re probably annoyed, and mad that he’s even there so late and after what happened before, and you’re probably tired, and maybe sad, or hurt, or uncomfortable because you just jumped from friends to him admitting he loves you and --

“-did you seriously run all this way and body me, just to tell me that?!”

He pulls himself together long enough to breathe and then turn so he can stare at you. You’re still beside him, body still pressed against the floor (possibly broken after having a much larger man knock you over, who knows) and you’re…

“You’re smiling,” he responds, like it’s the most shocking thing in the world. “You’re - why-”

“Last time I saw you, you were running out of my place like your ass was on fire. And now you come here, knock me on my ass, and tell me you love me?! Diego...uh...wow.”

Diego just stares back at her. He’s still struggling to breathe and if he’s being honest, he’s not sure if he can function after any of this. He just wasted so much of his courage (something he’s never been good at keeping stock of) on just getting here, how is he supposed to collect himself and head out the door with any sense of dignity? Or answer you in any way, shape or form? How is he supposed to even move when you’re looking at him like that?

Wait, you’re...you’re looking at him like that. Smiling, doe-eyed, honey-sweet and beautiful even after being violently collided with and forced to your shitty carpet…

“I love you,” he breaths, soft but still sure. He grins back at you and he feels like an idiot but he holds strong. “And I’m really sorry about before. I don’t know what I was thinking. I’m just, all this stuff is stuff I’ve never done before, and I--”

And without another word or even the chance to think, your lips are on his.

Well, they probably were meant to be. What really happens is with a grunt and a swift push, you shift over to him and move to kiss him, only you’re both still smiling and absolute idiots who then just bang teeth against teeth. And you’re left groaning and keeling back, both gripping your mouths while still smiling and,

Ohmygodthisisamessbutohmygodishesohappyandinlovewithyou.

“I’m so sorry,” you groan, muffled behind your hand.

“Me too -- for knocking you over, too!”

“Yeah, that’s gonna leave a bruise.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be,” you chuckle, and lift up again. You hover above him. His nose just barely brushes against yours and he’s straight back into heaven again, even as the embarrassment floods and his teeth ache. “I mean, I would have preferred a bit more warning, but...at least you don’t hate me.”

Diego grins and lifts his hand to push a tendril of hair behind your ear. “I could never hate you.”

“That’s a relief.”

“Mm-hmm. I’m glad you don’t hate me.”

“Please,” you roll your eyes and shove at his chest. His heart beats even faster. “Like I could ever hate you.”

He lifts his head, trying to pull himself up to meet your lips, but you dart away just enough so he can’t. “Can - can we try this again?”

“Mm…” you pretend to consider his request like one would a business proposal. Your thighs tighten their grip around his stomach and a part of him just wants to pull you in and act as his heart pleads. But, given the last time he did that...and the last time you did...he’ll take this slow.

Instead of answering, you lean down and press your lips to his. It’s gentle and leisurely, but he takes every motion in stride. You’re everything he expected and more. Soft petals of reddened flesh against his, your hips just barely grazing against his own, making him want to pull you into his body and never let you leave his side. He’s jubilant and exhilarated and he almost laughs like a baby as your tongue swipes against his bottom lip.

“If it isn’t obvious,” you breathe as you pull away, “from the way I let you tackle me to my floor,”

“I’m really sorry about that,”

You pull his hand up and intertwine your fingers, shaking your ‘head’ no. “I love your touch-starved ass too, Diego.”

“Good, cause this would have been--”

“--no more talking, chatterbox. Just kiss me and shut up.”

And he lets go of the maybes, and just loves you.

SECOND A/N...this ending is just ackwa!?!hiwogh. very annoyed with how it went, but if you know me, you know i suck at conclusions in every sense of the world and i also always leave them to the very last minute, meaning i’m typing this note as i read over the ending and hate it even more. and i’m sorry for the vague messiness of this! I had an idea, failed to deliver it the way i wanted, and a cool thought turned into a half-baked fic. thank you to those who read this, sorry’s also extended your ways because i know this isn’t fantastic. lmao.

- xx

#diego hargreeves #diego hargreeves x reader #tua x reader #umbrella academy x reader #diego hargreeves imagine #hargreeves x reader #hargreeves oneshot

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stuckinapatriarchalbullshitland · 4 years

Text

PR stunt relationships - ɟ

🎶🎶 Guess who’s back, back, back? Back again, gain, gain 🎶🎶

Heeello, my babies! 🥰 How are you? I hope you’re all fine and that you’re staying strong since, as we knew and expected, they’re literally attacking us every day with these PRs. And today’s topic is precisely about this. PR-stunt relationships.

What do I know about- What do I know about love? Nothing. And that’s why it’s everything. Sorry, I had to 😅🤣. Shout-out to ‘What Do I Know About Love?’ by CC. No but, seriously tho. What do I know about a PR stunt relationship? Again, I’m not an expert on the subject. I know as much as you do, plus, maybe a little bit more due to my research over the years.

🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁

PR stunt relationship, also known as PRomance, showmance, fauxmance (👈🏽 cover for celebrities who are both queer), and also as 🤫😂 ‘extremely camera-ready relationship’. I can personally define a PR as a work of persuasion. Picture PR people as shapers, as narrators, as storytellers, because that’s what they do. Whether it’s for protection, or to build or rebuild an image, or simply for promotion, they analyze the situation in order to create the best publicity/narrative/farce that benefits their client. They each have their own vision. Each of them has a plan that they sometimes tend to repeat with other clients because it works. Take as an example our friend Scooby Doo Sc**ter (Br**n), who is making it increasingly normal and common for his clients to use engagement rings as narratives.

A PR stunt relationship is nothing more than a PUBLICITY STUNT, as the word itself implies, aimed to get people and media attention. Publicists and celebrity management managers set up a fake public relationship to make fans and the general public believe it’s true. To give the couple more credibility, also friends, family, and artists friends of the couple get involved many times. To give you a practical example, let’s take PRen Tyren. They were at least 80% involved in each other’s lives.

Think about their birthdays and all the friends and families involved. Think about when Tymber even went to Graciela’s birthday, L’s great grandmother. Think about Tyres and brother Jauregui (who even made a song out of it with him). Think about L and Angel Gold (his sister). Think about L and Jailynn (his daughter). Think about The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse, aka Tyren and, I think they were called Galsey? (Halsey and G-Eazy). Think even about Dinah who was part of the PR. I mean, you got it, right?

This type of business, whether involves the music industry, the film industry, the sports industry, etc., works this way for EVERYONE. They get at the same goal but with different tactics for each individual person, and they give a damn if in the meantime the person, their client, is bullied, or hated, or if they receive death threats, or if they start having anxiety problems, panic attacks, mental or physical health problems, etc. They don’t give a shit about their well-being in general. It’s just business to them. They’re just money with two legs. Can you picture a rolled-up dollar with two legs, can’t you? Good, because that’s what they are. Products. Products to sell.

There’s a very strict contract that both parties have to mutually agree on, and this contract is called a relationship contract. A relationship contract is a legally binding document for the duration of at least one year. It’s very VERY own custom-made because they write down what do they want to happen, then the duration (which can be extended) and the termination, and all the other things that each of them wants to include. The duration of a contract obviously varies from person to person and can depend on many things. But the main thing is that, it depends on the type of goal they want to achieve thanks to it.

For example, if the purpose is purely publicizing, such as the promotion of an album, or a movie, or whatever else, the relationship will last only for the necessary time that it takes to increase the interest of the public and indeed, to publicize the project. Another example could be when they want to hide the sexuality of one of the two people in the couple or both. Here, the duration of the contract could reach up to years, and could even lead to fake marriages.

We have examples of people who have done this to promote movies/sagas/franchises: Robert Pattinson and Kristen Stewart, Zac Efron and Vanessa Hudgens. We have examples of people who have done this to promote TV series: Blake Lively and Penn Badgley, Lili Reinhart and Cole Sprouse, Chad Michael Murray and Sophia Bush. We have examples of people who have done this to hide their true sexuality: Ricky Martin & Rebecca De Alba (for 17 motherfucking years), TS and.. and-and-and EVERYONE. We have examples of people who have done this to increase their notoriety, but then fell in love for real despite being super toxic for each other: Justin Bieber and Selena Gomez. We even have examples of real couples who have been asked to go public to boost ratings and publicize their show more than it already was per se: Lea Michele and Cory Monteith. [Yes, my friends, even real couples do PR stuff for publicity purposes]

Celebs fake relationships for profits. Profits such as more fame, more fans, more acquaintances, whether they were made together or thanks to or of the ‘partner’ themselves based also on the industry fields to which they are part, more freedom in other aspects of their life, both work and private, etc., and of course, money. The money profit received varies. It varies according to the duration (especially if they’re many years), to what they’re supposed to do, such as how many times they’re forced to kiss (yes, guys, that also counts), to the amount of time they have to spend together, aka being seen together, etc. It also and above all vary, based on how famous they are, or if one of them is not famous at all, or if one of them is more famous than the other. It’s obvious that the more famous the person is, the more money they receive. Both parties benefit from it, but the person who ACCEPTED to do the PR is obviously paid more also based on the notoriety they have as I told you. Here we start with a minimum of $5,000 received per month. The figure can also reach disproportionate numbers with five/six zeros per year.

It’s enough to think that 75/80% of all famous couples are fake. They gain more attention and ultimately, more money, and at the same time, fans and GP can witness an exciting ‘love story’ filled with drama, gossip, rumors, mysteries, and if they decide to end their story on a negative note, even with the possible and eventual shade-throwing which in turn leads to more attention, more gossip, etc., etc. Exactly how the teams on both sides wanted. You have to keep in mind that teams have the power in this case. It’s the PR teams who hold the power over the media to control the narrative, and not the other way around.

There are also many factors involved to keep in mind. People involved. We have friends, parents, paparazzi, and all those other people the celeb team involves to make the story look as believable as possible. For example, you know when the media say it was a source who gave them the news? Well, that’s the truth. Think about it. Those sources and those insiders are really insiders because they’re part of the team. They are those people who work for them and who release information, whether true or fake, to follow the narrative decided for the plan. Speaking instead of another topic that I’ve noticed in many asks. Paparazzi.

I don’t know if you know how paparazzi usually work, but especially the old-fashioned stalker type ones, are not known to hold back, in fact, on the contrary, they go way too far beyond the limits. Some of them know where the celebrities might be based on how popular the location is (clubs, restaurants, etc., where celebs often go), or other times, they’re called by waiters, valets, drivers, etc., etc. It’s a pretty aggressive and competitive industry, and paparazzi do everything they can to get images of famous people to sell to a newspaper or a magazine or on Instagram. There are differences between those in the US, those in Europe, etc. Many are also easy to control since eight times out of ten, it’s an organized thing.

As we well know, most of the time, the paparazzi are told where to be and when, probably by the celebrity’s PR agency itself. It’s ALL for publicity. Publicity of any kind. To promote a movie if it’s an actor, to promote an album if it’s a singer, to be noticed if that person’s project was a flop, for fake relationships or to ‘cover’ the real ones if one of the two is in a relationship that is not seen in a good light and therefore doesn’t suit the public eye, or if one of the two or both of them are queer. Seriously, for everything. And so they have paparazzi following them around so it looks like they’re more popular than they actually are, and the celebrities who make me laugh the most are those who, after calling them, act like the paparazzi were following them everywhere, some even getting angry and taking it out on them.

But it must also be said that celebrities who really don’t want the paparazzi’s attention, make sure that this doesn’t happen. Unlike the ones who want them and even have them called. There are many celebrities who want their pictures taken because, as we also know, any publicity is good publicity. These celebrities know how it works and not only accept that the paparazzi are part of the business, but use them as a tool for their publicity. It’s just business for them and a new opportunity to look good in magazines. They want to be in control of their image and in this way, they have it.

Also, some brands pay celebs to wear their clothing or accessories while out and about, and those staged shots that look like candid of a celebrity leaving a restaurant or a store, actually have multiple purposes, namely: celebrity endorsement of the product, big check for the celebrity for wearing the item, collaboration between the celebrity and paparazzi to get nice shots that look natural and random from which the celebrity then selects the ones they prefers, and image sales for the paparazzi agency. Everyone gets paid and everyone is happy.

Another thing to take into consideration? Depending on the celebrity’s profession, even their own contracts. In the sense that most of their contracts involve fake relationships. It also depends on the image that the celeb has and whether they’re trying to hide their sexuality. From this, their contracts can include a minimum of two PRs, or five, or eight, or even one that lasts for many years. They can also state that the same person with whom the celebrity has already had a PR in the past, may be again in the future. I’ll give you a practical example.

Imagine yourselves and a friend as a celebrity, okay? You guys are singers and your friend is an actor. You’ve just signed a 3-album deal lasting 5 years (meaning you have 5 years to complete and release 3 albums), and your friend an 8-year movie saga contract (let’s imagine 3 movies). Now let’s imagine that there are clauses in both your contracts that also include fake relationships. Your contract has two, and your friend’s contract has five, including one with one of their co-stars. Both of you must, ABSOLUTELY, have the number of PRs chosen for you over the course of those years, otherwise, you’re gonna be forced not only to fight a lawsuit that you will lose because you haven’t respected the contract, but also to pay a penalty that can reach up to six figures.

Doesn’t this ring a bell? Now do you also understand why Ca*ren, and most of the other celebrities, are forced to have PR stunt relationships? Because they have to! Because it’s part of their contracts if they want to keep doing what they do. Many of them have a say. They can decide whether or not to accept the person chosen for them, they can choose a person themselves, they can negotiate something in return if they accept a person they didn’t want, etc., etc. But many have no say in it.

And speaking of our Camr*n, more specifically, our L, and Kris. Guys… All the comments I’ve read around… *help* 🤦🏻🤦🏻🤦🏻

L didn’t invite Kris there because he’s her boyfriend. And it certainly wasn’t her the one who asked her dad to delete the post because she didn’t want her fans to start attacking her new boyfriend or because she wanted to protect her relationship. IT WAS ALL DONE ON PURPOSE. Mi*e posted the picture and then deleted it ON PURPOSE! Why? Because (L and Kris’ teams) wanted the fans to see the picture to speculate! They wanted the fans to start attacking him! They want people to talk about it!! Is that really that hard to understand or to believe? Welcome to Tyren 2.0, my friends. That’s how it started with Taco Delivery Symbol, or did you forget that too? Go read the timelines if you really don’t remember.

I’ve lost count of how many times they’ve put off releasing L’s album over the years. They’d finally decided, and then it was postponed AGAIN, but because of COVID. EVERYONE had to postpone their programs actually, but L’s album was supposed to be released 100% this year (in September, in my opinion). Her PR should have started earlier. This is the only reason we have only had hints of Crispy McBacon (I’ve already found so many nicknames for his transphobic ass, sorry but I just can’t help myself) over time. Because they have postponed several times! *And also because, in my opinion, they were still looking for an alternative. The choice had to be between a guy (him) and a girl.*

But hey, at least they have an excuse to make this PR more real, you know? I’m already picturing what she’ll say because we all know the script by now: “Kris and I’ve been dating for a while now. I’m a private person. My personal life is my personal life and I want to protect my shit, you know? I don’t like it when people judge my life choices and that’s why I’ve never talked about it before. And I’d like it to stay that way”. Picture me shouting a “SURE, JAN!” when that happens, also because we will then slowly have more and more of their content. Aww, I’m already picturing them playing fake lovebirds and talking to each other in Spanish IN FRONT of a camera, in a live or an Insta-story maybe? 🤮🤮🤮

And speaking of postponed programs…

This is my version of how things could’ve turned out for our oh so beloved IwanttobeknownMila. Keep these dates in mind. Shon Mentos: The Tour, started on March 7, 2019, and ended on December 21, 2019. The Romance Tour, was supposed to start on May 26, 2020, and end on September 26, 2020.

They could’ve released Shirt’s documentary around the beginning of the Romance Tour. They could’ve made them break up almost at the end of the Romance Tour. He would’ve completed the album now, to then releasing it in January or February almost simultaneously with Cinderella’s release.

Why all this? Simple, cross-publicity or cross-promotion or whatever you want to call it. Choke recently said that they’d initially finished filming at the end of his tour and that they had to cut out a lot of parts. And what does all this mean? That the original documentary was another one.

In my opinion, the original was supposed to about his life on tour and only a small part, sneak peeks about the creation of Wonder. Instead, thanks to COVID, they changed direction and made it all about his album. The reason why they had to cut a lot of parts, was to make room for the last few months and therefore to the completion of the album. Which is why I think they finished filming in September/October (if anyone of u knows more, please feel free to let me know).

Without COVID they could’ve released his original documentary more or less around the beginning of the Romance Tour. News, tabloids, and people would’ve talked about them, both for the documentary and for the tour of our Mila= cross-promotion. They could’ve made them break up almost at the end of the Romance Tour. The distance, the misunderstandings, and why not, even the pathetic excuse that Toilet Brush used now when ‘they were in crisis/on a break’, that is, that he hadn’t been opened and vulnerable with her. People would’ve talked about them, Shitmila fans would’ve rebelled and cry their eyes out, news and tabloids would’ve gone crazy for who would tell the story better= cross-promotion. He would’ve completed the album now, with half of the songs he already had (from 3 years) and that he’s using on this album, and a half with songs that would’ve been about his broken heart, to then releasing it in January or February almost simultaneously with Cinderella’s release. Do I need to say this? You can imagine what would’ve happened, right? And what would that have led to? Oh yeah. Cross-promotion!

But anyway, guys, it didn’t happen. Just as we didn’t get L’s album as we hoped. But try to remember one thing, okay? Tyren’s contract started because L needed a new male PR and then they flipped the cards around and continued for him AS AGREED initially. Shakerstoremila’s one, on the other hand, is only and exclusively for HIM. It’s centered on him and will continue to be on him until the end. There’s no point in asking yourselves why Paruparo does this and why Paruparo does that, okay? She HAS TO do it. It’s in her contract and she cannot legally break it if she doesn’t want to face the consequences HER HERSELF has accepted. The sooner you understand this, the sooner you accept it, the sooner you can wait for the end more calmly. It sucks, I know. But that’s the way it is.

I’ve never liked Shon that much in the past. I discovered his existence only and exclusively thanks to Paruparo (IKWYDLS). I’ve always seen him as too fake and with a huge ego. I first became aware of his giant ego during the interview they did in 2015 at The Late Late Show with James Corden. Indeed, I’ve always wondered how someone like Mila could be friends with such an egocentric person. But you know how it is, I just brushed it off because I simply didn’t care about him, and also because at the time (2016 when I officially entered the fandom) the IKWYDLS era was already over for a while. BUT, my first impression of him became very true years later when they started this ridiculous charade.

Not only is he self-centered and with a huge ego, he’s also one of the most fake people I’ve ever seen. Why am I saying this? Because although I don’t know him and consequently, I don’t know if he was already like that before he became famous, Shon is the typical empty celebrity without a personality that has become the role he was set to be in the beginning. The perfect product. They wanted to sell the good guy. The sensitive and different from the others (and that’s where the bullshit of being a ‘singer-songwriter’ came from). And since this idea in itself only partially worked, they made him work on his body so they could sell that too. To sell the unreachable good guy. Superman, as he defines himself 😂. The problem of Shawn and his team, is with people who have not stopped to just look at the fake goody to shoes image that they wanted and want to continue selling.

The way I see him, Shoe’s just a selfish kid. Everything always revolves around him. Everything is and must be about him. He lives to be loved. He lives for the attention. He lives for the approval of others. Everyone must necessarily like him. There’s no one else besides him. Do you know what he reminds me of? He reminds me of a child who asks his mom for attention. ‘Mommy, how did I do? You liked it, didn’t you? Was I good? I can do better if you want, I know I can do better’. I don’t even think he realizes he’s like that because he’s so full of himself and so clouded by himself. Oh and, you know what I’ve been realizing lately? Many of his fans really believe he grew his hair out because Paruparo asked him to (I’d never have believed this bullshit even under torture), but now more than ever I’m convinced that he did it to copy one of his obsessions for years, that is, Matthew McConaughey. My personal problem with this look of his is the fact that he’s now starting to look more and more like Jon Snow (any Game of Thrones fans like me here?), aka one of the characters I can’t stand the most of that amazing TV series. And this, is making me dislike him even more.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying that I hate him and that I consider him the devil. In fact, I think there’s a lot but A LOT worse than him out there. I really, REALLY, dislike him, but I don’t hate him. Do I follow him on social media? Yes, but only on IG. Did I listen to his music? Yes, but illegally, and I liked some of his songs because as usual, I distinguish the art from the artist. I’ve never bought his music, I’ve never streamed it, I’ve never gone to one of his concerts, and the only views I’ve ever given him are only for music videos (not even all of them) on YouTube and only because other channels can’t violate copyrights by taking and posting them on their own. Indeed, you know how I’m gonna listen to his album? Thanks to the YouTube channels of his fans who will post his songs.

But anyway. I’ve dwelt too much on #pleasenoticeme #pleaseloveme, I’d say that’s enough. I’m gonna conclude with my final thoughts on the main topic of my post, that is, the fake PR relationships. I wanna explain to u guys why a fake relationship like Shazam’s and our Mila’s is so obvious as PR.

A PR relationship MUST create doubt in people’s heads and MUST NOT look perfect at all. Why? Because otherwise people WOULD NOT TALK ABOUT IT. If it looked like a basic relationship, a common relationship, people wouldn’t talk about it because they wouldn’t find anything strange about it. They wouldn’t speculate, they wouldn’t look for clues, they wouldn’t watch every move. They wouldn’t be thirsty. They’d just get bored. Yes, there would be the initial boom of the ‘new couple’, but then everything would end and people would move on to look for something else to entertain them. The main point of a PR relationship is to make people speculate, and if people don’t constantly talk about it, then it would be all pointless because it would make no sense to create a fake relationship in the first place.

Way to stop this act or any other act? Stop giving them fucking attention! You want to talk about it, speculate, look for evidence, and make theories amongst you friends? Do it! That’s great actually. I do it myself. But fucking tagging them?? 🤨😒🙄

If all the fans who know the real TRUTH stop talking about it by tagging them, tweeting them, etc. their ‘story’ would end. Sure, their teams would try to create something to attract attention again, like a kiss or a scoop, but if ignored even then, everything would end immediately. Why? Precisely because they were unable to complete their task. And in that case, the two celebs would ‘break up’ with a big scandal that would still bring attention back to them, although in this case, the attention would FINALLY be on both celebrities in a singular way and no longer as a couple. The next goal would be for fans and media to find out ‘what happened’ and ‘why’, while for managers it would be to create a scoop on those questions that keep them talking about them, and if all goes well, maybe even get them ‘back together’, and so on, until they have a better idea. But, if they fail even then, even though they’ve not reached the date scheduled in the contract, they would ‘break up’ without any more surprises.

And that’s all for now, my fellows CS. Remember to hold on and to not lose hope. Be patient. And above all, try not to freak out and get very angry as soon as you listen to the album. We already know it’s all bullshit.

I’m sending you a virtual hug 🤗🤗 Always with love, F ❤️

#FA #submission #f anon

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generouspeachheart · 4 years

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I find it hard to find someone like you

So, I wrote something... I was reading a Spencer Reid x reader fanfic, listening to Doja Cat and this popped into my head. This is my first fanfic, so please be nice. This is supposed to be an introduction aka Chapter 1 of a story i want to write. Enjoy, i guess! If anyone has any feedback, feel free to message me!

Summary: Spencer and Y/N are both pinning after eachother. Spencer is ready to confess his love, Y/N is too. What they don’t suspect though, is Y/N’s dark past to creep up on her.

Spencer Reid x fem!bau!reader

Warnings: Swearing, Pinning. If i missed any, let me know!

Words:1,971

When Hotch announced to the team that the case is officially closed and we were free to go, you were exited to say the least. You hadn’t been feeling your best for the past couple of days. You had a huge fight with your mom and have been trying to get over The Crush. This crush you have on Dr. Reid isn’t the smartest thing, but you can’t help it. Every time he stars talking about something ultra -interesting regarding the case you’re currently working on, he apologises for his ramblings and doesn’t finish what he started. And every time you say Go on I wanna hear what you have to say, he would flush his cute little cheeks and stutter through the rest of the ramble. He sometimes brings you coffee in the morning and when you’re flying on the jet for a case, he always starts up a conversation about some classic he noticed you were reading or knows you had read. He was just the sweetest little thing and you couldn’t help falling for him. But, as you had been a rather new addition to the team, you thought that this was just simply how he was. Until you talked to Garcia.

“He totally likes you!” she screamed in your face one night after a particularly bad case. You sometimes invite her over just to help you sleep better or to just gossip over wine; take your mind off the case. “He’s like that with everyone…” “Y/N.. you don’t actually believe that?” You look down at the floor. “Oh, you sweet little thing. He is definitely not like that with everyone.” “Okay, I’ll humor that. But still, we have a super nice friendship and I don’t want to ruin that. What if he doesn’t like me as much as I like him and just considers me a close friend?” ”Y/N…” ”Could you please drop it Pen, I don’t wanna talk about this right now.” “Sure thing, Boss Lady.”

“Alright, who’s up for a drink?” Derek asks as he turns to the team, pointing fingers at all of us. Emily nods. “Boss Lady?” he asks you. ”I think I’ll have to pass.” “No, but you’re so fun!” cries Emily. “Sorry guys, I can’t I have…” “A date?” Derek asks. “Yep” I say smugly. you notice out of the corner of your eyes, Spencer quickly packing up his stuff to avoid looking at you. “If you can call a bottle of wine and an easel a date.” Spencer raises his head at that. “That’s too bad, Pretty Lady.” “See ya tomorrow, beefcake!” You stand up to leave and wave to all the others as you get to the elevator. “Goodbye everyone.” The others murmur a goodbye to you as well. As the elevator door close, you hear a voice call out. “Hold the door!”. You’d recognize that voice everywhere. It’s the voice you dream of after all. You hold the door and Spencer goes to stand next to you. “Thank you Y/N.” “You’re welcome Spencer-nova.” He looks down at the floor, smiling. He’s quite fond of the nickname you gave him. “So, got any plans for the rest of the evening?” I ask, striking up a conversation just to hear his voice. “Well, I was planning to do some more research on The Cross-Cultural Perspective but after this case I think I’m just going to reread ‘Great Expectations’.” You smile at that. “You know, I did a thesis on that.” “The Great Expectations?” That gets a laugh out of you, which makes Spencer’s soft lips turn into a big grin. “No, on the Cross-Cultural Perspective.” “Oh, I didn’t know that”. He looks surprised. Almost too surprised.

Of course Spencer knew you did a thesis on that. He read it. Seven times. When he heard you were coming to work for the BAU, he went through all of your academic achievements. He just wanted to strike up a conversation about something you are interested in, because usually you talk about his interests. “Yeah, back in college.” “Maybe I should read those then”. “Maybe I should read them to you some time”. Spencer breath hitches. He wasn’t expecting you to propose such a thing. He was delighted by the idea, but his brain couldn’t really catch up with his mouth. “Um…do you…I mean you could…I would… l-like that, I would like that very much.” The tips of his ears turn pink. Bingo. You have successfully flirted with Spencer. Go you! This wasn’t the first time you flirted with Spencer. You have tried many times but to no avail. Even if he would get flustered, he thought you were simply joking, and that that was just how you treated everyone in the team. I mean, you call Derek beefcake, so he just assumed you were joking. Besides, why would someone as smart, gorgeous and extroverted as you want to flirt with someone like Spencer? That just didn’t make sense. But you had been acting strange for the past couple of weeks, following, what he assumed to be, some sort of a fight. He didn’t know whether this fight was with a friend or with a family member, but your eyes just seemed sad. You would zone out sometimes and Spencer got worried. So it was nice to know the jokes were back. Even if your smile didn’t quite reach your eyes.

As the elevator doors to the garage open up, you turned to Spencer. “We’ll see what we can do about the reading, Dr. Reid. Until then, have a good night!” you say, turning around to get to your car. “Good night to you too, Y/N!”

______________________________________________________

A couple of hours and glasses of wine later, you stood in your living room, ‘Streets’ by Doja Cat blasting from the speaker, and a brush in your hand, you heard a slight noise from the bedroom. Paying it no mind, you went to the kitchen to get a bottle opener, coming back to you living room to finish mixing the paint. You empty the bottle of Rose, and start mixing the colors together. Grabbing the now finished glass bottle, you throw it in the air so when it lands back in your hand you’re holding the neck of the bottle. You turn around quickly, the bottom of the bottle colliding with the head of a bulky man, dressed in all black, who had broken into your apartment through the bedroom window. Amongst many things that made you spectacular, was the way you pay attention to your surroundings. You were able to point out even the slightest of changes in the air. “Who the hell are you, and why are you here?” you demand, taking out the handcuffs you took from the drawer in the kitchen and putting in on mans wrists. He didn’t provide an answer. Then you heard a knock at the door. Bending down and taking the gun you keep under your coffee table, you get to the front door. Opening the door, with your hand on the trigger, you see Spencer. He sees the gun before he sees you and puts his hands in the air. “Spencer-nova? What are you doing here?” You ask, opening the door wider, signaling for him to come in. “What’s going on Y/N? Are you okay?” not answering your question. “I’m fine, someone tried breaking into my apartment.”

________________________________________________________

Some time later, the suspect sat in the interrogation room, handcuffed to the chair he was sitting on. “I’m only going to ask you this once, fucker” You say, opening the door to the interrogation room, slamming your hands on the table. “Who do you work for?” “Why do you think I work for anybody?” “Oh, so the little piggy talks, huh? That’s a relief.” “I don’t work for anybody, I just broke in to steal your stuff. I wasn’t expecting you to be fucking James Bond.” “So, you’re telling me you just happened to come across my apartment, and decited to break in?” “Exactly!”

“He’s telling the truth.” Hotch concludes as you exit the room. “Are you sure? Because it doesn’t seem random to me.” “As far as I can tell, he was there to steal something from you.” That doesn’t make sense. Why would he break into my apartment just to steal something? He could’ve waited while I’m not home to do that. I work 15 hours a day, that would definitely be more sufficient. “Were going to arrest him for attempted robbery but that’s about all we can do for now. If you have anything else, run it by me.” “You got it, Boss”

“Hey Y/N, you got anything?” Spencer asks, seeing me ending the conversation with Hotch. “Nothing, no. But it still seems weird.” Spencer takes a look at you as you go to the elevators. Hotch requested you go home and deal with this tomorrow. And since Spencer lives somewhat close, he was instructed to stay with you tonight, seeing as he’s also the one who drove you to the station.

Spencer just now noticed how good you looked tonight. Your hair was in a messy bun, you wore a simple black T-shirt with a name of, what seems to be, a rock band on the front. You had on a long, flowy black skirt and an oversized silky white shirt. You looked absolutely stunning.

With the adrenaline wearing down and the alcohol you consumed coming back to you, you felt really tired. The drive to your apartment complex was mostly quiet, excluding the radio which was playing a familiar song softly. “Look, you don’t have to stay tonight. You live a block away anyway, ill just call you if I need anything.” You couldn’t bear Spencer being so close to you tonight. But he wanted nothing more. He didn’t want to leave you alone, especially not after what happened tonight. He was worried. He wanted to protect you. He opened his mouth to disagree but as he saw the way your eyes were closing and he couldn’t help but shut it. Tonight wasn’t the night then. He wanted to check up on you after you were acting weird the whole week. Surely you would call him if you need him. You’re a grown woman, you can take care of yourself. “Let me at least walk you to your door. Check if there’s anyone else there?” “Fine, Spence, you can walk me to my door.” As much as you didn’t want him there, your heart couldn’t help but flutter at the proposal. That man would be the death of you.

“There, no ones here. You can go now.” You felt bad for making him go home after he was instructed to stay, but you just couldn’t. Sleeping in the same apartment just knowing there is a slight possibility you could be sleeping next to him, cuddled up in his arms, could kill you. Exiting the door to your apartment, Spencer turns to look at you. He extends his pinky finger towards you. “Promise me you’ll call if you feel unsafe?” You hook you pinky with his. “I promise, Spence.” Even the slight contact with your skin makes Spencers heart flutter. He unhooks his finger and starts to walk away, towards the exit. “Hey.” The softness in your voice makes him halt. Turning around he sees you, slight smile on your lips and your hands behind your back. “Thank you, Spence. Thank you for…you know…caring about me.” “Of course, Y/N. And don’t worry about it. I’m here.” As you wave goodbye, the small smile on your face pulls at Spencers heartstrings. He wishes he said what he came over to say to you.

As you close the door, you walk up to your coffee table, opening the bottle of wine, you sit on the floor, your back to the sofa. Why couldn’t you say what you really want to say?

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #fanfic #fanfiction #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you

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kadeu · 3 years

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Accepted — Yoon Barret Jr.

◆ Yoon Barret aka Butch looks like Clayton Cardenas (actor) ◆ He was born 21 August 1990; making him 33 years old ◆ This Alchemist is Bisexual and an Eight of Diamonds ◆ He is an Enforcer with the LEA

Biography

The Yoons were never a prodigious family. They didn’t have the biggest parties, the deepest pockets, the best jobs, nor even the most talented family members. What the Yoons did have, in excess, was pride. They could trace their family line back through more than ten generations, and each and every member who hadn’t died young had made their living as a member of the esteemed Diamond Law Enforcement Agency.

Barret Jr. hated his family.

He defied the rules forced upon him at every turn, making an early name for himself as the problematic black sheep of the Yoon household. Enforcers he didn’t know would stop him on the street to question him, search him, or otherwise detain him until one of his family members could come to drag him back home. Disciplined harshly for the smallest infractions and brutally for larger acts of resistance, Barret’s hatred for his family only strengthened as he grew older.

Occasional absent-minded tardiness to his lessons turned into a defiant habitual lateness and eventually a string of absences. Prone to saying yes so he could avoid his family and their obligations, Butch ended up in a lot of sketchy situations that the Yoons would cover up to protect the family name. It became a game of sorts, one that the Yoons had no chance of winning the longer they refused to adjust their heavy-handed rearing approach.

It started off small enough. Mistakes anyone could make and be forgiven for, only every LEA agent in the city knew who Barret Jr. was and relished the opportunity to write him up. Drop an orange peel near the Academy? Littering. Draw in the dirt out back of a business? Vandalism. Mouth off to an Enforcer? Contempt of LEA.

Well, since every action Barret took landed him in the deep end, why shouldn’t he dive in ass first? Disorderly conduct, public nudity, public urination, petty thievery. All of it was neatly swept under the rug and kept off his record, much to Butch’s wry amusement. Sixteen and involved in a bar brawl - assault and battery. That one wasn’t so neatly swept. Too many people had been involved, there too many mouths to silence, so the Yoon’s didn’t. Rather than try to keep Barret Jr’s name out of the Deck and out of the people’s minds, they started okaying it. Harassment from LEA officers increased as his home life grew more violent.

Before, having Butch around was like having a get-out-of-jail-free card. No matter what he and his fellows got into, the Yoons would take care of it. Now, he was too much of an LEA magnet to be around. People he considered friends abandoned him left and right once they found out they too would be randomly searched by every Enforcer they had the misfortune of running into. At home, his family would accost him from the second he got in the door until they went off to bed. Bitter and resentful, Butch ran away multiple times, but he was caught and dragged back every single time.

By age twenty it was clear to everyone that not only would Butch never conform to Yoon standards, he was also the first member of their family in generations to be human. Useless and detrimental to the family in every way, there were whispers among many of quietly disposing of the young man, ridding themselves of their black sheep.

Butch, who had never been dumb despite what his family thought of him, slowly backed down. While he remained defiant, it was plain that his failure to awaken any powers put a damper on his anger. Where he had once been a snarling wolf, he more closely resembled a growling puppy by his mid-twenties. Barret Sr., judging his son to be properly and sufficiently cowed, eventually offered his namesake a choice: remain captive in the Yoon household under constant and continuous observation; or enroll in the LEA academy, become an Enforcer, and earn his freedom. Contingent on the fact he remain a member of the LEA, of course.

Cornered and desperate to escape his confinement, Butch agreed.

He made it through the LEA academy, barely, and secured a position as an Enforcer as well as a small apartment on the opposite side of Diamonds from his family. He laid low, obediently following around his senior agent and carrying out his duties. It was easy and it was fun to make a fool out of the Human Yoon enforcer, but he didn’t let it get to him. Butch kept his head down, nose to the grindstone, until he felt the family eyes lessen.

Then the work began.

Old contacts from his youth, old arrests, new and upcoming members of the city’s underbelly, he sent them all a letter. Hey, how’d you like to have an LEA agent on payroll? I’ve got the in, and I’m itching to use it.

In Recent Years

Butch has been a dirty agent for almost a decade. His network is expansive and his connections run deep into other territories. He’s no king of the underworld, but he’s solidified his place as an untouchable immovable leech upon the system. With hands filthier than some of the Kings, many wonder why he hasn’t made any moves for power either in the agency nor the underground. It’s hard for many he works with to understand, but it’s because he doesn’t want any. He just wants to fuck over the LEA, and specifically the Yoons, at every opportunity.

From 2021 to 2023 he worked diligently on expanding his network and destabilizing the Yoons as much as possible. In mid-2022, he was visited by Hermes and blessed with a manacore, awakening as an Alchemist. Though he celebrated the change by drinking too much at his local pub, pissing in the street, and getting arrested; Butch kept his species change largely under wraps. The LEA has no idea he’s awakened, nor do any of his underworld connections. However, he has been selling concoctions via an underground proxy.

Personality

Butch is not what anyone would call mentally sound. He survives exclusively on spite, cigarettes, single malt whiskey, and the sadistic joy of watching his enemies suffer. Sarcastic and prone to making any and every situation into a joke, the alchemist’s friends are few and far in-between while his enemies can be found on nearly every dirty street corner Kadeu has to offer. While Butch would sacrifice himself without hesitation for one of his friends, the bar to that acknowledgement is so high it may as well not exist.

That being said, Butch is equally unlikely to openly hostile as he is to being overtly friendly. His dominant status is a wry apathy and it’s been stuck on that setting for years. The few friends Butch does have will likely hate his inability to be serious, but others will crave his easy-going attitude and skill at changing the subject.

Congratulations Grey your app has been accepted and we’re excited to have your muse on the dash with us.

Please follow and welcome @enforcerbutch to Kadeu!

#accepted;#follow;#fantasy rp #dark rp #city rp

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baphomet-media · 3 years

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Sword Art Offline - A CrossCode Review

Genre: Adventure Subgenre: Action RPG Developer: Radical Fish Games Publisher: Deck13 Platform(s): PC, Playstation, Switch, Xbox (Reviewed on Xbox Series X) Release Date: July 9th, 2020 Time Played: 60 hours

CrossCode was a game that I knew next to nothing about going in. I heard some faint praise for the title online, but I really had no idea what to expect. The game’s description bills it as a Zelda-like, but offers little else in the way of explanation. The vibrant pixel art environments convinced me to give it a shot. So is CrossCode a success, or is it just a glitch in the system?

Story

In the distant future, humanity has colonized the galaxy. On one remote moon, a company called Instatainment decides to create something unique. They create a one-of-a-kind MMO where the locations in the game are real physical places, and players can log in and explore them using avatars made of something called “instant matter,” a kind of extremely light and insubstantial matter that can be quickly and cheaply conjured up for all sorts of purposes, but cannot meaningfully interact with the physical environment. This MMO is called CrossWorlds, and has become very popular in the world of CrossCode. Despite the fact that the game features an in-universe MMO, CrossCode is in fact an offline, singleplayer game. The different meta layers can be somewhat difficult to explain at times, but I found it to be a novel and interesting setting.

You take control of Lea, a player of CrossWorlds who has seemingly lost her memory. While being aided by man-at-the-keyboard Sergey, she must infiltrate CrossWorlds from the outside and play the game to recover her memories. But all is not what it seems, as a strange flying blue avatar seems to be pursuing Lea.

Along the way, Lea will participate in the game of CrossWorlds alongside other avatars such as the feisty french Emilie (AKA Emilienator), the nerdy Toby (AKA C’tron), the braggadocious Apollo, and many more. Each character has a vibrant design and personality that make them stand out and feel loveable.

The game’s plot is quite intense at times and drips with intrigue, keeping you playing for hours on end. In one of my play sessions, I played the game for over 7 hours in a single sitting, which is a testament to how hooked I was. There are plenty of twists and turns throughout that keep you guessing, and many different layers to ponder over in between sessions. Unfortunately, I feel like the ending falls a touch flat, as it feels like the game just kind of stops and all the conflicts resolve at once, but it’s a small issue.

There is a bad ending to the game, obtainable by missing or failing a single optional story event, but if you’re paying attention and exploring you’ll have no trouble finding it. There is also a DLC epilogue episode that continues from the true ending, but unfortunately this epilogue is not yet available on console at the time of writing. It is currently slated for a ‘Summer 2021’ release, so perhaps I will be able to review it shortly.

I wish there was more I could say about the story because there’s a LOT going on, but unfortunately it would ruin the experience, so you’ll have to discover it for yourself. Suffice it to say that the story kept me intrigued and hungry for more up until the very end. The writing is often witty and funny, and I noticed various references to other series, such as Kingdom Hearts, Gurren Lagann, and Ace Attorney.

Gameplay

CrossCode at its core is a top-down action RPG. Lea has a number of different moves that can assist her in combat, such as melee attacks, ranged attacks, dodging, guarding, and special attacks. Additionally, once you complete the game’s dungeons, Lea will be able to switch into different elemental modes. Each mode has its own stats, special attacks, and affinities, and it pays to be vigilant about which elements are effective against which enemies. Plus, using elemental modes for too long builds up an overheat meter that, when filled, locks Lea out of elemental modes until it depletes. Due to all this complexity, it pays to think on your feet and be conscientious about how you approach fights.

On top of that, there are different consumables that offer timed buffs, different equipment effects which offer different buffs, as well as the Circuit, a skill tree with different trees for each element. Every time Lea levels up, she gains one Circuit Point for each elemental tree to spend on permanent buffs and unlocking special attacks. Some nodes on the circuits require multiple circuit points to unlock, so you’ll have to weigh which nodes to unlock when. All of this combined makes Lea highly configurable, but versatile enough to where you can completely change her build at any time outside of combat.

As you play the game, you will typically have allied characters fighting alongside Lea, which makes tough groups of enemies much more manageable. However, there are many areas which are “instanced” to where Lea must complete challenges alone. These are some of the game’s toughest challenges, and typically involve puzzle solving and/or combat. There are various dungeons around the Playground of CrossWorlds, the in-universe playable area, and most are quite extensive. These are the moments that the game somewhat feels Zelda-like, though really only in that you have to progress through dungeons with various puzzle and combat rooms in order to unlock a new element. Each dungeon adds new mechanics to master, and many dungeons bring back old mechanics from prior dungeons, requiring you to figure out how multiple mechanics work together. I found these sections a ton of fun, even if some of the puzzles were real head-scratchers.

Where would an RPG be without its sidequests? CrossWorlds, and by extension CrossCode, has plenty of sidequests for Lea to undergo to gain experience, money, and items. Most of the quests are your bog-standard fetch quests, but many have the player find new areas, face unique encounters, or even engage in minigames. Fortunately, a lot of the monotony of questing that you’d expect from any other game is mitigated by the fact that you can teleport back to any discovered landmark at any time for free.

As you explore the world, you’ll find yourself engaging in minor platforming. Essentially, areas of the game map are on different elevation tiers, and there are a ton of chests that are locked behind finding out how exactly to manage the elevation to reach a chest on a high ledge, often traveling on high elevation across multiple maps for a single chest. It can be a bit frustrating for people who constantly see chests that are seemingly out of their reach, but I found it fun to hunt them all down. Additionally, using a charged projectile to ricochet off walls and obstacles are quite common. One downside to the platforming is that it can sometimes be difficult to determine the heights of different stage elements at a glance, as the game doesn’t seem to have any sort of visual indication of the different elevations aside from just looking at the relative vertical distance between the floor and the next level. This often causes you to jump into walls or off cliffs during drawn-out platforming sections, which can be frustrating.

Overall, I don’t really agree that CrossCode is a Zelda-like. To me, it’s more like a 2d hack-n-slash without aerial combat. Still, that isn’t a negative, and I feel like CrossCode manages to create something that feels its own and not heavily derivative. I only wish the marketing had played more to its strengths instead of just bragging about how much the game was like Zelda and how many different genres they think they mashed together. I probably would have given the game a shot a lot sooner.

Presentation

The environments of CrossCode are gorgeous, with high detail pixel art that is hard to believe is based on a tileset. The character designs are bold and emotive, and really give you an idea of what each character is about at first sight. The game’s soundtrack is also a banger, with plenty of different tracks in many different instruments. It’s the kind of soundtrack I’d happily listen to outside of the game, and instantly becomes familiar to you.

Conclusion

Aside from a bit of platforming jank and a slightly underwhelming ending, CrossCode is a real gem of a game that anyone who likes RPGs should check out on their platform of choice, and especially if you have Game Pass. This is a game that deserves the same level of cult following as other indie gems such as Celeste and Stardew Valley. I look forward to the coming DLC, and whatever developer Radical Fish cooks up next (hopefully a sequel!)

Score: 9 / 10

#gaming #review #article #crosscode #Radical Fish Games #Deck13

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yongiefilms · 4 years

Text

EVANESCENCE.

pairing: mark lee x reader (female)

genre: fluff; angst; hints of humor; best friends!au; high school!au; college!au; unrequited love!au

warnings: language, heartbreak, indirect mentions of depression, crying is involved, mentions of death and loss, complex feelings, if you have a weak heart this may be hard to bear, you are literally in for a ride with a lot of ups and downs (i don’t know this is hard to put warnings on for some reason just beware with angsty teen feels aka angsty teen mark)

word count: 6.4k (how did i write this much? it is surely a mystery)

summary: distance is hard for anyone. it’s especially hard for couples, and maybe even more so best friends. with hundreds of thousands of miles separating you and mark lee, it’s impossible not to note the countless possibilities of what could go so wrong by being away from each other for an unknown amount of time. to cope with that longing mark lee writes to you, and he can only hope the feelings he pours out to you on paper are enough to keep that one thread you both are hanging by, unwavering and simply together.

author’s note: this fic is dedicated to our favorite giggly, watermelon loving, and adorably awkward social boy—mark lee. it’s officially his birthday in the states so happy 21st birthday, my precious and sweet boy. thank you for always brightening up our world and putting a smile on our faces. also, huge shoutout to my proofreaders/beta readers ( @wooqzi and @mjlkau ). you both were literally lifesavers and i can’t thank you enough for enduring through this semi-long fic with me, but i love you my renjun enthusiasts, you’re amazing.

THE CONTENTS OF THIS LETTER IS CONFIDENTIAL AND SHOULD NOT BE READ BY ANYONE OTHER THAN Y/N L/N. PROCEED WITH CAUTION.

march 16, 20XX

my dearest y/n,

i remember the first time i saw you. i remember it so vividly that it seems like it was just yesterday, a fleeting instant in time that managed to stand still, being permanently engraved in my brain. it was november 15th, 20XX—our sophomore year of high school. i recall walking into our school’s library at around 3:25pm because i had to return a book from my literature and composition class. at that point i was also still waiting for my ride to come pick me up so i thought why not kill two birds with one stone? however, i wasn’t prepared for what i would see. (call me cheesy, though i already know you did once you saw the first couple of sentences).

when i strode in i saw you as if we were in the movies, where the male lead is stunned into awe at the gorgeous girl he comes across. you were sitting at a table by yourself in the center of the room with your back to me and the infamous large window that covered nearly the entire wall behind you. for some reason that same day was exceptionally beautiful. the sky was a vibrant blue shade with a few remains of scattered clouds, dotting the sky in white freckles. the sun shone a little brighter than usual, its warmth felt like a blanket wrapped around the body and it reflected across your face at the heaven-sent angle when you turned your head the tiniest bit, adoring you in a pleasant glow. i strolled in right at that moment when the sun decided to showcase you in its beauty and i couldn’t help but be astonished. you looked so ethereal and virtuous. i simply couldn’t look away. your arms were rested on the table, on either side of the book you had opened and when the sun was covered by a transient cloud, casting you in its shadow, is when you became more real, more like someone who was attainable. you then suddenly groaned and put your head down rather harshly on top of the book, emitting a loud sigh. i was quite surprised that no one called you out due to the noise you were making, you were in a library after all. (just know i can picture you rolling your eyes just about now).

yet i perceived it was odd that from merely hearing your sound of distress, i wanted to protect you. i wanted to shield you from future harm and future inapt doings. you made my heart clench so tightly i wondered what was wrong with me and how i could feel so deeply. i didn’t even know you. i hadn’t even seen you around school before. you were a stranger to me so why did i feel a certain way? i questioned myself and even still, to this day, i can’t bring myself to give you answers for that query nor can i find them. i suppose that is where i put the blame for what happened next.

i was so caught up in my head that i didn’t notice my feet had moved on their own accord right next to your table, where your head still rested. i know i must have looked insane and i don’t inculpate you for your reaction in the slightest. i was brought back to reality when the sun shone in my eyes just allowing me to turn my head to see you in your empyrean grandeur. the timing was appropriate too, because that was when you snapped your head up to meet my eyes. i was as startled as you, but it showed more clearly in your eyes rather than mine, considering i was so disoriented from reality. your eyes were wide, allowing me to clearly see the stunning color that was full of curiosity. you tilted your head to the right like a lost puppy kicked to the curb, waiting for someone to finally claim them. nevertheless, your own surprise didn’t last long since mere seconds after you scoffed loudly and turned away from me to bring your attention back to your assignment. your next words were the ones that sealed the deal and i seriously must have been crazy to be attracted by mere words that offended me above all, but they didn’t. if anything my heart clenched in my chest even more. (i must have been so out of it…i know you are laughing your ass off right now because of the dilemma i had. cruel). but you said, “what the hell are you looking at? you weirdo.” i knew then that would be the start of a glorious friendship and it was. i never happen to be wrong and that was one time i was thankful, even if it isn’t my most fondest memory (shut up) it still sparked the start of something much greater. something that i felt could last a lifetime.

so yes, we became the best of friends ever since that day and what a wild ride it was to get to that point. i knew you considered me too weird, too quiet, and too awkward for your taste, but we made the friendship work. we became inseparable even in our differences and for the rest of the years to come in high school, we were joined by the hip. there wasn’t you without me and there wasn’t me without you. you always had mark lee with y/n l/n and vice versa. i guess you could say you had me marked in your heart as you were in mine. (cue another eye roll and a laugh. i know you laughed). we were known for being that inseparable duo of best friends. you couldn’t have one without the other. some thought it was peculiar to see the once lonely boy and spirited girl befriend one another and be so compatible. it was unexpected, but they got used to it like all the other things that come and go. they came to accept it and even if their opinions didn’t matter to you, those things did to me because i wasn’t like you. i couldn’t brush off dislike or unacceptance. i didn’t have the power to do so, but don’t worry anymore, my love, i have come a long way and perhaps it is all due to you.

i’ve always wondered how we balanced each other out since everyone said we just didn’t quite fit the picture. you were dauntless and confident, knowing exactly what you wanted and you weren’t afraid to go out to get it. while i was embarrassing and closed off, not knowing the path to follow for my life and too scared to make mistakes when i knew i couldn’t fix them. although through our own struggles we were able to help each other grow and find ourselves. we became comfortable in our own skin and accepted who we were with all our faults, failures, and imperfections. you were someone who guided me and i only hoped that i was able to guide you the same way you did during this absurd journey of teenage life.

i suppose that is why i am afraid to tell you these next few words, these next few paragraphs that place my heart out for everyone to see and hear—but i don’t care about them, i only have ever cared for you and i always will. you may have assumed this from the start of this letter or it may have gone over your head as something that is normal for everyone to experience with another attractive soul at first glance. or you may have known throughout our years of knowing each other. you could have picked up the signs of things that weren’t so platonic—the gazes, the touches, or the words that meant something more than just friendly. you could have noticed, but refused to acknowledge the deeper undertones for your sake and most certainly my own. i know you and i know the last thing you would want for me is to be hurt or disappointed. to feel like you failed me when in reality if you knew that wouldn’t have mattered, since to me our friendship is worth more than any romance, if there would have been one at all. so you know, i am certain now, but it still scares me to write it down, to have it on permanent record for you to read whenever you want.

so here it goes.

over that time, over the course of us getting to know each other and becoming who we are today, the best of friends, i slowly started to fall for you—the person you were, someone i couldn’t be even if i tried. someone so raw, beautiful, and most of all real, both on the inside and out. you know i never was shallow, i never cared about someone’s appearance as what held significance to me the most was the heart. if your heart was good and wholesome and filled with love. that is what matters and the only thing that should. so while you are gorgeous (don’t let that get to your head now), you had a golden soul that i fell for ever so intensely.

i guess that’s why i decided to be daring that day—our senior graduation. you may be confused on what i mean since nothing was out of the ordinary that day, well for you at least. for me it was a different story. you see i had decided to do something, something out of my comfort zone and i honestly don’t know what came over me to do it in the slightest. you know how i am, i never like to be put into an uncomfortable situation since i don’t know how to deal with them. my social awkwardness just gets the best of me, but in that spur of a tick, realizing this was a huge milestone in our lives that we were overcoming, a milestone that would release us into the real world, i mused there was no harm. i really didn’t have anything to lose, except you that is. i could lose you, but i guess i knew deep within my heart that was a slim possibility because nothing could tear us apart, not even stupid teenage feelings. so you could say i finally gained enough confidence after spending so much time with you to do something out of the ordinary—to be bold like you. to just confess the truth and not worry about the consequences after. to just speak my mind and not surrender to fear. you helped me get to that point and while it did take some time, i was happy with who i came to be. someone proud with who they are, even for split second and i knew i had to do it before i turned back into a coward—before it was too late.

i had the ideal moment planned prior to it happening. i was going to tell you after we finished taking our graduation photos. there wasn’t a better time than that, when we were trying to capture the last moments of our high school career together. taking pictures with those we grew closer to over the years, those that made everything a little more sane, a little more fun. so when we look back we can reminisce about those times, no matter how many ups and downs there were because we finally reached the end goal. we made it.

after searching for you amongst the growing crowd for several long minutes after we proceeded off the stage, i saw you come towards me first, with your blue gown flowing in the wind. you literally ran full speed ahead and when you were a few inches away, you crashed into me. i had stumbled from the impact, taking several steps back so we both wouldn’t fall, as my arms came to rest around your own. you maneuvered your arms around my chest to give me a bear hug, stripping the oxygen away from me. when you let go after being in my embrace for what felt like eternity, i could clearly see your face. you were in a great mood—a beam on your face, your cheeks flushed from the sun’s heat, your eyes wide open with stars that filled the void, and your skin left in a brilliant glow. happiness surrounded you and a grin made its way onto my face at how in your element you finally looked. i knew it was then or never again, for your encouraging grin left me weak, yet strong. the perfect moment. yet, no moment is perfect. no one moment ever seems perfect for me. it doesn’t work out because fate wasn’t on my side—nor would it be for a long time.

you must have wanted to tell me something too that fateful day, since i could feel your excitement in my own bones and spot it a mile away, as right when i was about to confess, right when i opened my mouth to say those three dreaded words, you cut me off. you told me you had news, exciting and life changing news. news that would shatter me and wither my confidence away till what was left was speck of dust. you told me you were leaving to go to the states. that was the first pain i felt in my body. your admission letter had come in the mail earlier that morning when you were about to leave the house, on your way to the graduation ceremony. you were too anxious when your father relayed the news that you had gotten mail as your foot was almost out the door. you couldn’t wait to open it as your eagerness didn’t allow you to, so when you were handed that one large envelope addressed with your name from your dream college, your hands didn’t stop from ripping it open.

you got in.

you got into harvard university, the one college you told me since sophomore year that you wanted to go to, if it was the last thing you could do. i was so estatic for you, i was, because i knew how much the acceptance meant to you. you were working hard ever since you could talk and your passion was a huge part of that dedication to excelling in your academics. you deserved it more than anyone i knew, but my heart couldn’t help but crumble out of that exuberance.

you were rambling on about how thrilled you were and what you would do at college, all the classes you would take, the extracurricular activities, how you would have your own dorm or apartment and decorate it the way you wished. you just looked exactly how you did that day i took you out on a picnic to watch the sunset on that hill that overlooked the town—without a care in the world and so very content. so i couldn’t confess now, when you were going places, the places you dreamed of and when your life would take off for the better. you were just getting started, yet i couldn’t say what i so desperately wanted to say when you simply told me you were leaving, and so soon at that. i didn’t want to hold you back and i just know you are telling me i wouldn’t have, but i know the truth as do you. you would have stayed behind because you care too enormously with your heart to ever let me go, to ever have me sorrowful. so i didn’t say anything when you backtracked and asked me what i wanted to say before you spilled the news. i was thinking more with my head rather than my heart at that juncture. you gazing at me with your star-filled eyes and dazzling smile, i couldn’t do it, no matter how much energy coursed through my veins. i kept my mouth shut and told you it was nothing. you accepted the excuse though i know you knew it was a lie. we could always tell when the other lied and i was just glad you believed it at that point. i held back my feelings and my wants for your feelings and wants—for your needs. your life, your wishes, and your desires always meant more to me than my own. so we took those graduation photos and laughed with the rest of our friends. we were joyful then even if the future remained imbalanced and unsure.

you left later that month since you had to settle into a new country, a new state, a new culture, and a new life. in that time it wouldn’t be us if we didn’t spend every minute side by side and we did since you wanted to cherish our time together—our last time together. you would be on one end of the world and i would be on the other, thousands of miles separating us and a wide expanding sea. it was surreal and it still is. so we treasured all of it, even the little moments of going to each other’s houses in the wee hours of the morning to just watch the sunrise or late at night to watch the stars, to go get ice-cream when we felt like it, to watch movies in your bedroom with the lights down low—to just bask in each other’s presence. we made even more memories, granted that we had plenty to go around. those last weeks with you were the best of my life, even if it felt like nothing was changing, even if it was our normal routine before the shift. even so it still made me fall deeper as i saw your true colors in an even brighter light as if i never truly saw you before. there was so much about you that just made me curious even if i knew every part of you, every aspect of your being, from the simple things like your favorite color to your hatred for pineapple on pizza, and to the deep things like your fear of being forgotten or not being good enough. even if i knew so much, there was still more to unravel and discover as you were so complex. there isn’t another person like you in the world. there can’t be since you are one of a kind. they may have your face or outward appearance, but they can’t have your fair heart or pure soul.

i shouldn’t have been dazed that these emotions i had for you would solely blossom beyond belief. i couldn’t protest either because i knew they would grow more fervent since it is so hard to control myself around you. i sound like a giddy schoolboy, but with you i can’t help but let everything run wild and free. i put my entire heart and being out onto a silver platter just for you and i knew you would only ever take good care of it. after all if anything they would be yours to either tear or mend.

so when that dreadful day arrived i wasn’t ready for the whirlwind of storm to be released and let loose. you were leaving and wouldn’t come back.

i had been in the car with you that day as well as with your parents since they were flying over with you in order to help you maneuver around a new territory and get you settled in before the start of your semester. i couldn’t bear to say goodbye to you before so i tagged along. we all strolled up to the gate and your parents passed through, leaving you with me so we could have some privacy to say everything we needed to say. albeit there weren't enough words in the world to tell you how i felt at that stage, enough words for the both of us. therefore, we let our actions speak louder. you latched onto me, putting your arms around my neck and hugged me so closed till i was sure there was no room between our bodies in that suffocating airport.

you know you told me a hundred times, maybe even a thousand times during those last weeks before you left, how much you loved me. how much i meant to you and how much you cared for me. i don’t even think the amount of times i heard that from other people could compare to how many times you said it. while they may have meant it, i know you truly did and that was the deepest sorrow to know, which broke me a little further. regardless, i did tell you them right back, how could i not when it was you? i told you those three words and eight letters every time in response, twenty-four hours and seven days a week, but when you said them there, in the midst of the crowd in the airport, it felt different. it felt more meaningful, like there was an underlying tone i couldn’t decipher and it broke me the furthest i could go.

tears came from me and you, flowing between our clashed bodies. they made their way down your face and stained my own, out of jubilation and utter devastation. when you said it in between your sobs, repeating the words like a mantra against my neck and pulled me in even closer, i told you those words back. i whispered them against your temple, kissing the side of your head every time i repeated them and i meant them with all my heart because i truly did love you, so much, just in a way you didn’t love me, and never could.

i was sure i couldn’t recover from your departure once i saw you walk through those gates and let go of me. i wondered if i could ever hold you back again like i did at that moment. it felt like a part of me was being left behind. we were two halves of a whole and with you going, there would always be a missing puzzle piece. a piece of me would always be incomplete and i didn’t know how to feel, nor do i now. there is a hole in my chest of where you belong and i think there always will be until we connect in person again.

looking back i still smile at that memory—at all our recollections together. the woeful ones and the euphoric ones because they help me burden the pain, the heartbreak at your withdrawal from my life. it may sound dramatic considering we are still part of each other’s lives, just not in the way we were before. for distance separates us and threatens to split us apart.

you may think it doesn’t, but we both know the actuality. distance is the cause of these things—friendships, relationships, and love breaking beyond a point that is impossible to fix. where all those things are left in the dust and are fragments of what once was. now distance endangers our own foundations, our own very little things, so it’s illogical not to think about how it might destroy us. i never was a pessimistic person, but now being miles away from you, it’s hard not to think this way. i try to block it out. i try so hard, but sometimes i can’t help but allow negativity to take over, for without you here to shed light, the darkness swallows me whole.

i already know how you look reading this letter, in fact i knew from the very start what it would result in. i knew your emotions would get the best of you as they overwhelm you and you can’t hold them in like you desire to. maybe it happened from the very start or maybe it started now, but i want you to stop the tears that are already cascading down your face. don’t cry reading this. this piece of paper is not worth your tears, even if you think the opposite way and maybe those words i just wrote don’t mean anything because you are already sobbing, but stop them before they consume you. i am not worthy of those tears nor is it my intention to ever make you weep.

you know you always said you couldn’t cry, your body wouldn’t let you wail even if you begged it to. you told me that the day your grandmother died and you came over to me after the funeral. you told me no matter how glum you were and how much pain you felt, you couldn’t mourn for your grandmother. that you pushed your body to release tears but it wouldn’t so you looked unmoving and without emotion during the service. while that may have been the truth just that once, i knew well enough that was a lie. you were numb to feeling since you lost someone, but you body did want to grieve since you were just holding yourself back from looking weak. nonetheless you never are so-called frail because you are the toughest person i know and tears don’t dictate that strength regardless.

so in the deepest part of your room, at the latest times of the night when you thought no one was looking or knew, you cried your heart out. you whimpered too often and i was able to tell even if i never voiced it, but somehow you knew that i knew and you were okay with it. you were okay with letting me know you were and are human. so every time when you would cry i told you that you were too beautiful for it, in order to give you a piece of how i saw you in my head. to allow you to understand it was okay and normal above all. even now, though i can’t see your tear stricken face, you are stunning. so don’t bawl, but rather smile for me.

good.

your smile was always one of my favorite characteristics of yours. the most blinding beam that could light up a room and make anyone forget their worries.

you know even if it may seem gloomy, blame the mood in which this letter took a turn, i still am grateful we keep in contact even if you are so many miles away, because that’s the only thing i ever wanted, to keep in touch with you—to remain best friends. a factor that we still are…(for now).

so yes, it may be six months since i last saw you face-to-face, six months since you left, six months since we managed to stay in contact, but i can just feel you slipping away, becoming someone without me by your side through it all. yes, i know you and i are still who we are since those months ago, since sophomore year, but it’s just something that i can’t help but feel.

in fact i already sense it, it is near, but yet far. you know how i know? when we were on call the other day. it was last wednesday i believe and we were chatting about how our day went, the usual things in our routine, that is until you casually mentioned someone asked you out on a date last week. the mere fact that you didn’t tell me the day of or the day after it happened hurt more than your following words, albeit they equally packed a punch. you told me it was that one boy from your history of psychology class, the boy you did countless assignments with before, the boy you befriended nearly the first day your classes started. the boy i felt would take my spot from your life, if not as your lover, then as your best friend. i forgot his name, but i recollect you said he had that incorrupt look on his face that you perceived him to be pure the first day you laid eyes on him, although after learning more about him, he was far from being innocent. you told me in explicit detail what he looked like and the personality he had. i recall bits and pieces, even if i desperately tried to forget. delicate hands, an artistic gift, a slightly short stature, a cute grin, and a savage attitude to contradict the façade. exactly like you, exactly like the day i met you with your sharp tongue and doe eyes in the library, the complete opposite of each other. while i know i reach far in many regards calling him a soon to be lover or best friend, he still has potential even if he may not have any of those labels. i know he might not be the one—the one you’ll end up marrying in a few years down the road when you have a doctor’s degree in one hand and a ring on the other, but he might as well be. he might as well be that man because the future is unimaginable to foretell, but he can still be that shell of someone you want, he can still fill the void until the time comes. so yes, he very much will have your heart for a while, if you deem him worthy enough, if you pursue him the way he wants to pursue you. the way you were talking about him with your tone and the smile i could hear it in your voice gave it away. i knew something was there and you would give it a shot. he might be one of many before you find the ideal one over the years and he very well might be the one, but even if he was not, he would be your first in more ways than i was. he’ll be someone i wish i could have been. someone i wish would allow me to shoot my shot, but i didn’t since with all my talk i still, deep down, was a coward.

you can’t say i am wrong anyways since sometime, someday, some when it will happen. however, what still remains, in this bit, right now, as you read, is that we are still y/n and mark. mark and y/n. we are still us, but why does it feel like we aren’t at the same time?

it’s a deep question i must admit, it is what keeps me up some nights as i search for the answer and ponder for the meaning. i still don’t know the full answer, but i know enough. we are growing up. we are growing up y/n. we aren’t 15 anymore. we aren’t those sophomore kids that had no idea what the real world had in store and were gullible in every way, shape, and form. we simply aren’t high schoolers who only cared about our grades or appearance or the plans we had after school. we aren’t those kids. we are slowly becoming adults. we are slowing steering away from our teenage years and in that comes this question of self-identity.

who are we?

that is what we are trying to look for. we are finding who we are through everything we do—through our daily lives. we are finding ourselves…without the other. we have been so close for so long and grew into that space in an unhealthy amount of time. we grew accustomed to each other’s presence so now it is almost unbearable being apart for so long. we became so attached we don’t know what to do with ourselves and it’s the cold hard reality. it’s the truth that we don’t know ourselves individually, only together and that’s why it hurts more than ever that we have to be led astray, sometime soon. to know that soon enough that time will come. to know that yes, we still contact each other every day, we still have our weekly face times or calls and what you deem our “online friend dates” during the weekends, but as often as they are, they will change. we will no longer have the time to do that as college gets crazier for both of us, as we become more involved in a college life full of parties, friends, clubs, and whatever else it may be as we move out of being freshmen and get closer to our real life careers. you and i will know when that happens as our calls will become less frequent, our check-ins almost nonexistent with the other being left in the dust for days to weeks to months on end. we merely won’t be in contact anymore and i am sorry when that comes, my love. we’ll forget each other, its expected especially as we grow older, as we date, as we find love, as we befriend new people, as we move in the direction we are meant to be going and with that the worst part follows because i know sooner or later we will have to let each other go, if we don’t neglect. we can’t hold each other back and we will dwindle to a memory of what once was, of a simpler time before. i will be the forgotten one, the one in the background of your most prominent memories, someone you can’t help but look back on.

although we aren’t there yet, but we will be.

soon.

even if at this point you hate how many times i have written that word and so do i, but don’t you dare take the high road since we all know at some point all marvelous friendships die for an unexplainable reason or reasons. ours would just have to be because of life. that’s what makes life well...life. it is all part of the journey, the road to an unforeseeable future, but there can still be hope, it doesn’t just diminish like a candle flame put out by a gust of wind. no, hope still exists, you just have to grasp it when it comes around.

if. i always hated the word if, but if it’s meant to be then we will find each other, we will come around full circle at some point. have hope for both of us when i have none.

still, when you get this, it may be too late. maybe you will have unremembered about me in the seconds of time in between the unwavering silence. only then would we have both moved on, since there is no point in reaching out for something that isn’t worth saving when it all faded away before. only then will i be just a memory and reading this will spark those thought of i knew him once before during a ephemeral moment in my life when i was a teen in high school rather than a college student, but i know i am not late.

it is one thing i am sure of.

until then, until that foreboding time arrives i’ll hold dear what we have. i will try to preserve this friendship for both of our sakes until it’s time to say goodbye or more accurately a see you later if you want to be hopeful.

whenever that may be.

i know you hate goodbyes more than anything, the word itself rattles in your bones. so y/n, see you soon, in person—someday if it’s what’s right.

it has to be right doesn’t it?

fate has to be on our side because it knows us, it knows that there isn’t me without you and there isn’t you without me. when that time arrives of us seeing each other or withering away like every flower does at the end of its life, i hope, i pray that you won’t forget me as i most certainly won’t forget you.

so just call to mind in everything you do, in everything you say, dwell on the time before college—of a time when you were a child, someone lost, someone finding themselves and in it all remember there was someone who loved you before. someone who loved you at your worst as well as at your best, before you became who you were truly meant to be, and he loved you with all his heart.

he promises he always will.

that he is me.

i love you, y/n l/n. always and forever.

never forget it.

yours truly,

mark lee

on march 16th, 20XX at approximately 8:02pm mark lee sealed his letter to y/n and put it in his coat pocket. on march 17th, 20XX at approximately 10:32am mark lee made his way to the postal office to drop off his letter and at 10:36am the letter dropped into the box on its way to the united states. on march 20th at approximately 11:42am mark lee’s letter arrived at the massachuesetts postal office and was separated upon arrival to be delivered sometime within the week. on march 22nd at 2:07pm, mark lee’s letter arrived at y/n’s apartment complex and was dropped in the inboxes of the residents. on march 24th at approximately 7:02am y/n went to pick up the mail, but what wasn’t in the pile was the letter from mark lee. sometime between when the letter arrived in the states to the mailman driving to the complex, his letter had gotten lost. the truck’s windows were open and mark lee’s letter was at the top of the pile when the truck was parked. an unsettling breeze was felt against the mailman’s face as he gripped the entire pile of mail, though mere seconds before the letter was picked up by the wind and whooshed onto the ground several feet away. the mailman did not take note and continued on, not noticing something was missing. y/n never received mark lee’s letter and neither of them would have known how things would have ended up differently if she had. for from that point on they would be a fading memory to each other and their friendship would wane away. y/n would begin to forget the calls with mark. mark would no longer reach out after months of silence from both parties. y/n would date the boy she told mark about, his name was huang renjun and they would fall in love, but mark would never know his name or know what came to be. they would become strangers and not best friends. lost to the tragic distance that separated them across the sea. if only y/n received the letter. if only mark lee confessed. if only he had know y/n felt the same. if only their friendship hadn’t evanescenced into nonexistence…like all unrequited love stories do.

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felswritingfire · 4 years

Note

Could you write some Macan relationship headcanons, please?

Fucking- I love Macan- he’s a whole ass boy

Contrary to what many people might think- Macan actually knows about the ins and outs of “dating” and by dating I mean the pursuit of getting a mate

He lived in the jungle and had a pseudo teacher, I’m more than positive that they explained, or at very least, mentioned sexual partners and the joy that they can bring

So, he has an idea of what attraction is

Also there’s the fact of natural animal instinct (bitch be feral)

He’s just never… thought of going through with it. Like sure, he debated with Nomad before, but he decided he liked the thought of him being more of a brother figure than an actual romantic interest, but he had never found anyone else worth going after in a relationship

That was until he met you

You honestly probably managed to gain his respect first by being able to keep up with him in a fight or he saw you fight with someone else and he was like, “Hey, I’m down to eat that person.”

And then you two began to get to know each other and soon enough he was like, “heart eyes, motherfucker” and that’s how your relationship blossomed

You’ll have to explain you concept of dating to him and he’ll work with it from there since his version, is- ah- much more primal

AKA: You two get it on and have like, a horde of (metaphorical or literal) little Macan’s running around

You gotta explain that you two have to build up to that

And he’ll respect your explanation and try his best, but remember, he’s a rambunctious boi so you gotta be firm with him once in a while- other then that, he’s like a huge ass puppy (Haha) with you: always looking for your praise, touching you in anyway possible, always following you around- all that good stuff

Speaking of him touching you- he likes to randomly wrap his hands around your waist, doesn’t matter how much or how little pudge you have, he likes the way your waist curves when he squeezes. He also hyper fixates one the way your thighs fit in his hands (paws? ah-); he really likes to hold your hand in his and will often run his fingers over your knuckles

He loves giving surprise hugs- just hugs in general

If you’re dating him, he’ll introduce you to Nomad if you don’t already know the guy- he always ends up slipping you some good food as thanks for keeping the big oaf busy

Macan isn’t really a guy who’s masterful with words and usually shows his affection through his actions- he’ll get things when you ask him and he’ll actually listen to you when you’re talking, he’ll actually sit and just… bask in the presence with you

You have a strange way of calming him down and are one- if not- the only person who can get Macan to snap out of it when he goes into his berserk mode

His fear of hurting you is that strong

He’s pretty docile around you and honestly just wants to spend time with you

So he’s usually working out in some corner of the room while you do something else, that or he’ll do some push-ups and you’ll be sitting on his back (and no, it doesn’t matter how much you weigh, this boi can lift you- you see all that tittie? That ain’t no bitch tittie, he can lift anything if he puts his mind to it)

He’s really protective of you- like, uber protective- but he also has the state of mind that you’re a strong, independent person who can handle themselves. That doesn’t stop him from glowering at people from behind you though

Usually, if someone is trying to put the moves on you, he can just flash some teeth and give them a glare and they’ll be running with their tail between there legs (sometime literally); very rarely do you get the actually dumbasses who roll their eyes and keep pushing their luck- now that’s when Macan will really puff up and you have to keep him from actually killing someone because a) illegal and you’d prefer Macan not to go to jail and b) we don’t want to be traumatized by Macan legit ripping someone’s spine straight from their back

His ideal date is literally wherever you want to go, he’d probs just mention going to a gym though because that’s one of the only things he ever thinks about, aside from you, so if you do end up taking him to the gym, he’ll be forever grateful to you and he’ll probably lick half of your face

Speaking of licking, this dude does not do kisses, he does licks- he doesn’t really see the point in kisses, they don’t really do anything except show affection and that’s it. Now with licks you get the best of both worlds: affection and baths- now that is what he is TALKING ABOUT

You’ll have to, honest to whatever holy deity you may or may not worship, have to work with him on that- otherwise he’ll just, randomly start grooming your hair in the middle of a conversation with one of your friends, ruining whatever work you’ve done on it

The first time you explained french kissing to him, Macan grabbed your face with one hand and shoved his whole ass tongue down your throat and you almost threw up. You laugh about it now, but holy fuck you thought you were going to die because he let his tongue just sit in your mouth while he looked around the room

He just needs a lot of work in the kissing department is all

He likes to bite you as a way of marking you. It’s not even sexually- you could be just hugging and he’ll catch a sliver of your shoulder peeking out from the shirt you’re wearing and his eyes will do the cat thing where his pupils will blow wide and he’ll just- *nom*

He did this once in front of Nomad where he started nibbling on your cheek and he freaked the fuck out and ended up knocking out Macan in one hit because he thought that he was trying to eat you- it was actually really flattering, but you had to explain to him that: no, Macan isn’t trying to eat me (you hope). He’s just doing that weird Macan thing where he bites you to show affection-

Oh, if you thought that you would be sleeping by yourself once you got with him- YOU’D BE WRONG

He likes to sneak into your bed and snuggle up to you. At first he tried to sleep on top of you, but quickly learned that he’s… a little too heavy to just be casually be sleeping on you- so instead he’ll rest his head on your chest and wrap his arms around your waist and drift to sleep listening to the sound of your heartbeat

PLEASE PLAY WITH HIS HAIR- PLEASE

He loooooves when you style his hair- go crazy with it- he’ll show it off proudly, he don’t give a fuck. That bright ass pink bow with that rhinestone in the middle of it that you put in his hair??? Fucking flaunted. You decided to curl his hair? Bet you bitches are jealous, huh? You decided to put a flower crown on his head? THIS IS MY TRUE CROWN NOW, PEASANTS, MOVE THE FUCK OUT OF THE WAY CLAUDE-

This guy just loves you a whoooole lot, my dude

(Please, someone ask for NSFW, I had to fight with myself to not add them because I wasn’t sure, but PLEASE I HAVE- I HAVE SOME IN MY NOGGIN, P LeA S E)

#SFW #Housamo #tokyo afterschool summoners #macan #headcanons #housamo imagine #reader insert #x reader #I fucking love Macan so much #He's so much fun????#good boi right there

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ayamari-no-goshi · 4 years

Text

Eidolon 3 | (T)

ff.net | AO3

Fandom: Danny Phantom (DP)

Summary: AU: What started off as the result of a simple act of rebellion ends up causing his life to spin out of control. How will young Danny cope with the results as well as a past that has a strange habit of coming back to haunt him.

Warnings: rated T for violence, mentions of death, kidnapping, and various other things

Parings: hints of Danny/Sam much later on

Notes: originally uploaded to Ff.net. Cross-posted to AO3 and tumblr.

Chapter 3: Worries

"Sam… can you run this by me again?" he asked as he stopped searching for a moment and glanced at her. "What exactly are we looking for?"

Her response was a roll of the eyes. "I thought we went over this already… Don't you want to know what we saw last night?"

"I don't!" Tucker voiced, causing the two of them to look at him. "What? That thing was scary! For all we know, it could still be out here, and I for one, have no desire to see it again!"

"Why, aren't we brave?" The sarcasm in Sam's voice spoke volumes. In an almost immediate response, Tucker covered his head with his arms. Apparently, that tone was a verbal warning of the threat of pain. Sam could apparently be rather scary when she felt like it.

"Hey! Don't get mad at me! I just want to keep my good looks safe for the ladies! Besides, you're the one with the grudge!"

That answer just seemed to anger Sam more. "How selfish can you get? You don't even care that other people could be in danger?" Though it was true that she had sworn her vengeance on whatever they had seen, rational seemed to have come back to her in the hours after the chase. She currently just wanted to know who or what that was.

"I do… except, in my book, I come first! Besides, shouldn't this be a job for the police instead?"

"Like they're going to believe a couple of kids. We'll probably be the ones to get in trouble if we say anything. They only take it seriously if we find some kind of proof."

Danny stayed silent as he watched their fight continue. Sam did have a point; whatever it was that they had seen the night before could potentially be dangerous to anyone in the area. It also seemed unlikely that the police would believe them, since they would probably just pass it off as some kind of animal, which it definitely was not! However, he sided more with Tucker. If it wasn't for Sam's persuasiveness (aka threats), there was no way that he would have come back to the cemetery for quite some time.

He glanced around the familiar surroundings and shivered slightly. It was only about one in the afternoon, but it felt like it was much later. The shadows appeared more pronounced, the statues looked corrupted, and the air seemed stale and heavy. It was almost as if that thing's presence had managed to taint the area.

Even though he really did not believe in the so-called paranormal, there was definitely something demonic about that creature. That thought caused him to sigh. He was being silly. There was probably a very logical explanation for what he and his friends had seen. It was probably just some drifter or psychopath… which is just as comforting.

In truth, he would rather just forget about the incident and chalk it up as a bizarre situation that he never wanted to ever deal with again. He had also made a promise to himself to never again sneak out of his house at night; being scared half to death was so not worth it. However, he had this sinking suspicion that Sam was going to make him break that. Speaking of which…

"What…?" he asked after he realized that she had asked him something. "Sorry, I wasn't listening."

"Jeez, Danny, get your head out of the clouds." Judging by her expression and the fact that Tucker was hiding rather poorly behind a nearby bush, they had stopped arguing for the time being. "I just wanted to know if you had managed to get home okay last night. I mean, you didn't get in trouble or anything, did you? I kinda forgot to ask earlier."

He frowned for a moment. "Surprisingly… no," he replied before giving them a sheepish grin. "I… uh… fell when I snuck back through my window. If you haven't already noticed, I'm kinda klutzy. Winston's use to that, but it's a little weird for me to fall at night. If he did wake up, I guess he assumed I fell off the bed again."

Sam shook her head. "Again…?"

"I don't do it often!" he replied in an embarrassed protest. "Just a couple times a year!"

"And that makes it so much better."

"Um, I don't mean to pry or anything," Tucker interrupted as he came over. Apparently, he now thought it was safe for him to come out of hiding, though he did make sure that he was out of Sam's punching range. "But, why do you call your dad by his first name?"

That question earned another sheepish look. "Well… um… I'm actually adopted. Winston's been my guardian for as long as I can remember. Apparently, my parents had asked him to take care of me if anything would happen to them…" He sounded wistful for a moment before he sat down on a nearby bench. Raising his head, he glanced at them while wearing an expression that was unreadable. "I… I really don't know what happened to them. Winston's not very comfortable with the topic."

After a small pause, Sam glared at Tucker, who cringed. "Tucker! How could you bring that up?" she demanded as she moved closer to him.

"Sorry!" He immediately backed away from her as he raised his hands again. "I didn't know!"

That caused Danny to chuckle, which caused both of them to look at him. "It's okay, really! I don't mind. Let's just go back to searching before Tucker gets hurt."

"Tucker likes that idea!"

Sam glared at the nervous boy for a moment before poked him in the chest, "Fine, but this doesn't mean that you're off the hook."

….

"Sam!" Tucker whined about an hour later. "Let's call it a day! We haven't found anything! And besides, we promised Danny yesterday that we'd show him around."

Once again, Danny agreed with him. There were definitely less boring activities than failing miserably at finding anything. They had found nothing! It was as if there was absolutely nothing to even suggest that there had even been something other than him in this part of the graveyard within the last day. It was definitely frustrating since there was a small part of him that did want proof that he hadn't just imagined last night. Even if Sam and Tucker had seen it, maybe it had been some weird group hallucination. He had heard those were possible.

Sam glanced around again and gave a frustrated huff before she kicked the ground. "I guess you're right… even if I don't want you to be. I guess we should lea… Hey, what's that?" She pointed at something before she sprinted over to whatever it was that she had seen.

He and Tucker shared a look before they followed her. By the time they had reached her, she had picked up what appeared to be a piece of paper and was examining it. Apparently, it contained either an image or word that was holding her interest.

"Um… Sam… what… oomf!" Danny's words were cut off when Sam shoved the paper into his hands. "What the heck?"

She glared at him while she impatiently tapped her foot. "Just look at it!"

After giving her a look, he complied. At first, the only thing that caught his attention was that he was holding a rather old piece of paper. That normally would not be too weird since littering was unfortunately common, but this paper wasn't just weathered, but it also had a strange feel as if it was more along the lines of canvas than actual paper. He then noticed that there were black marks on it, which he realized was a sketch of what appeared to be some sort of figure.

He turned the paper a bit to see if he could get a better feel for the picture. It appeared to be an ink sketch of what he took to be a demonic figure with… possibly flaming hair. After a moment, he also realized that there seemed to be writing on the top of the paper, but the letters were too faded for him to make out.

"So… what do you think?" Sam asked after he had handed the paper to Tucker.

"Not much," he replied with a shrug. "Sure, it's creepy enough, but I don't think it's related to this. Papers find their way here all the time. Possibly someone lost it out of their sketchbook a while back."

She just shook her head. "Danny, I tend to do a bit of sketching myself… That's not a type of paper, if it is paper, that you commonly use. In fact, I'm fairly certain that I've never seen it before."

"Sam, you're probably over thinking things. I really don't think that it's anything out of the ordinary," Tucker told her as he gave it back to her. He then glanced at Danny and grinned. "Although Sam's usually pretty level-headed, she sometimes lets her love of anything weird run away with her."

"Take that back!"

"In this case, I don't think I will."

"Would you still say that if you weren't standing behind me?" Danny asked as he tried to turn to get a look at his friend.

Tucker gave him a serious look. "Dude, have you seen her boots? They hurt! Oh… alright." After receiving another glare, he gave up on hiding and looked over at the still irritated goth. "If it will make you happy, I'll try to find some information on it when I get home. Though, to be absolutely honest, I'm fairly certain that picture's nothing more than the product of someone's deranged… oh, I mean artistic… mind."

Try as she might, Sam couldn't resist chuckling at his comment. "Thanks. If anyone could find something, it would be you."

"I'm glad you noticed."

"Sure, I noticed. It's your only redeeming quality."

"Hey!"

"Sorry to interrupt another one of your fights," he told them as he raised an eyebrow. Their "play" arguments were throwing him for a loop. How was it possible they were still friends if that happened as commonly as it seemed? "But, am I missing something?"

Sam laughed as she waved him off with her hand. "Don't mind us. Both of us keep forgetting that you don't know any of this yet. Although he might not look like it, Tucker's amazing with technology. I swear that he could honestly bring down a satellite with that PDA of his." She then glanced over at the boy who had brought out said PDA and had begun checking it in a strangely loving fashion. "I'm actually surprised that he didn't mention it yesterday. Perhaps he was trying not to scare you way."

After a moment she placed her hand on his shoulder. "Come on! We should leave now before he starts trying to induct you into his technologic world…"

xxxxx

The door slammed which let him know that his charge was finally home. If it was any other day, he would have actually gone to greet the boy, but this was not the case. He was currently stuck on the phone listening to someone who was irritating him more and more with each passing second. Even though he was usually a patient man, it was taking all of his self control to not raise his voice at her.

"Ma'am, I understand the consequences," he told the voice on the phone tiredly as he tried to wrap up the conversation, "But I assure you, that not only am I acting on his parents' wishes, but that I am also taking very good care of him."

What the woman said next absolutely enraged him. "That remains to be seen!" was his indigent reply. "Please reserve your judgments until you or one of your people come to do that review. Now, have a good day." The woman had tried to respond, but he cut her off by slamming the phone. Those people were so tiring, but that one really knew what to say to get under his skin.

"Uh… is everything okay in here…?" Danny asked carefully as he appeared in the kitchen. His expression clearly said that he hoped that he was not in trouble.

Winston sighed and ran his hand through his hair as he sat down. "It's really nothing too important, just another call from the state. Apparently, they're now attempting to use scare tactics." He then looked at the boy and tried to smile, "So, how was your day?"

Danny shrugged as he too grabbed a seat. "Sam and Tucker showed me around town some more, and we hit the arcade for a bit before Tucker had to head home. We're going to try to get together again in a couple days."

"That's good…"

"Um… are you sure you're okay?"

He sighed as he looked up at the boy who seemed worried about the absent-minded response he had recieved. "Yeah… I guess I let them get to me more than I had thought. Anyways, how does pizza sound for dinner?"

"That sounds great!" Danny then got up and headed towards the hall. "I'm going to be in my room for a while."

"That's fine." Winston then got up and picked up the phone again. After calling the pizza place, he headed into the study and tried to relax.

Why was in the world was that man getting involved in this? He had heard the rumors that the man had begun to involve certain aspects of his many companies in some of the state cases, but until that call he did not believe that they were actually true. Due to the money that those companies held, it was going to much more difficult than he had originally thought to keep Danny. Not only that, but the head of those companies, Vlad Masters himself, had personally become interested.

According to that woman, he claimed to be a friend of Danny's parents. If that was the case, why didn't they ask him to take the boy? But, that was beside the point. Even though the man was well-respected, there was something that just did not sit right with Winston. Sure, he might be a business genius, but he had gained way too much power too quickly. There were rumors that those gains had not been made above the table, and Winston believed that they were true.

It was also known that the man was not above using underhanded tactics in court. If this case did end up going that far… there was no telling what that man might reveal. Danny's story was complicated, and even though he had done what was asked of him, it was unlikely that a jury would see it the same way, especially with how unbelievable the story really was. Most likely, Masters would corrupt the tale, making it even worse.

Then there was Danny to think about. While it's true that he had not be entirely forthcoming with what had actually happened, he had planned on revealing everything on his upcoming birthday. However, with the current mess, he was unsure what precisely to do. If he was to wait and the boy was told a corrupted story, it would most likely shatter his world. He could not let that happen, but he did not want to add stress to him, especially since there had been no indication it was true…

A sudden crash followed by a yell immediately got him out of his seat. That was….? What was that? He stood still for a moment trying to figure out from where the noise had originated when he realized that had been Danny's voice. Sure, the boy did have a tendency to trip, but there was no way that was normal.

He immediately ran to boy's room and opened the door. "Danny! Are you all right? I heard a crash!" He looked around expecting the boy to be near his chair or bed, but instead he was on the floor, plastered against the wall. His piercing blue eyes were wide and frightened.

Worried, he kneeled beside the boy, placed his hand on the boy's shoulder, and gently shook him. Unfortunately, he still did not get a response as Danny was still staring at something. His military instincts kicked in, causing him to tense and glance around the room looking for anything that was out of place. After a moment, he realized that nothing seemed out of the ordinary, but he still kept himself prepared potential surprise.

"Danny…" he whispered harshly to his charge as he continued to watch, "what happened?"

There was no sound until he heard Danny take a deep breath and move. He looked back to see the boy leaning his head against the wall. His breathing was still heavy, but it looked like the worst of the shock of whatever had happened was beginning to wear off. "Are you okay?" he asked cautiously as he glanced around again.

"Huh…?" the boy's voice was startled. Had he only just realized that he had come into the room? "Wh-what's going on?"

"Are you hurt?" he asked as he knelt down again. "Did something happen? Did you see something weird?"

At the last question, his charge tensed and glanced at his hand as if he was examining it. After a moment, he hesitantly looked back at him and shook his head. "I… I'm fine, but what's with the twenty questions?"

He raised an eyebrow at the boy. "Really? Daniel, I heard a crash and a yell from you. I was worried," he told him as he helped him to his feet. "Are you sure everything's okay?"

This time, he was answered with a nod. "I'm fine… I just … fell off the chair... and managed to knock some of the stuff off my desk…" Danny cringed slightly when he realized how weak sounding his excuse was. He then became more animated and began to push the older man towards the door. "I promise! I'm perfectly fine! N-nothing's wrong! Just give me a few minutes to clean up everything, and I'll be right out! The pizza's supposed to be here shortly, right?"

Before Winston even had a chance to attempt to get a word in, Danny shoved him out of the room and slammed to door. He remained there, a little stunned for a few moments. Whatever had happened definitely spooked the boy, it was probably nothing like he had said… but he could not help but wonder. A normal fall like that should not be so frightening.

He took another glance at the door before he headed back into the kitchen. Maybe he should watch the boy a little more closely, just in case.

#danny phantom #danny phantom au #fanfic #fanfiction #dp au #danny fenton #phandom #dp #sam manson #tucker foley #vlad plasmius #supernatural #fantasy #Eidolon

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fatexbound · 4 years

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@thedetectiveofinaba asked: 👫 - holds my muse’s hand (@ Yu)

Touch-starved symbols | Still accepting

Another visit to Nanako's hospital room was over. She seemed to be doing better which was a big relief and even though, the holidays were just around the corner, they had a job to do: defeat Adachi and find out why he did it. He always thought he was suspicious with the way he acted as a friendly cop that spoke too much. Now that he thought more about it with everyone, it all made sense.

Upon leaving the hospital, the cold winter air and the snowy fog hit him and he shivered. He had dressed himself appropriately, but to leave the building's warmth was an initial shock to his body. As he was walking toward the bus stop, he came across Naoto and immediately smiled at the sight of her. She greeted him with the usual smile and took his hand in hers, presumably to warm it up.

"Ah... thanks for that. It's gotten colder lately. Not surprising given that it is winter." He spoke while adjusting his scarf, squeezing her hand in return. "Nanako is doing well. She said that she misses you all and I told her you would come visit soon." He smiled at her before sighing. "If you're worried about me, I'm fine. I don't have those chest pains anymore." Those pains were caused because he was afraid of his solid bond with Nanako breaking inside his soul. His mini heart attack at the hospital was a shock to everyone after they thought he had lost her forever. Thankfully, he was treated before anything worse happened.

"Are you heading home too, Naoto-kun? It's getting late. I can walk you there if you want."

#thedetectiveofinaba #Yu answers;#Reach Out To The Truth | Yu Ending #We're The Two Who Found Our Destiny {Yunao ; thedetectiveofinaba}#Aka it's Lea writing too much and making it sad as hell!!#p4 spoilers #p4g spoilers #heart attack tw

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thewhizzyhead · 4 years

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djdjfjg aa you like it??? jsjdjfjf 🥺🥺 it was mostly just a bunch of me being sad and wishing for viet rep so the fact that it’s not. an entire mess is very gratifying-

honestly I started wanting to sort of continue writing it as a middle finger to Miss Saigon-

(the musical. not the actual Miss Saigon, I want to make it clear that my issues are with the freaking musical I hate it so much aaa-)

(let’s just say that despite it being a musical about South Vietnam, they sold Ho Chi Minh/Vietcong flags as merchandise and wHAT THE HOLY FUDGE-)

(there are a lot of things I have issues with regarding that musical but whatever that’s besides the point)

So basically a few other things I planned out is “trà sữa boba” which is either gonna be the chapter title/a song name... idk why but I sort of want to write it in music form now- but basically trà sữa boba translates to “boba milk tea” and basically, the boba place where linh and renn meet is basically the hangout place for the the vietnamese high schoolers. and like, one day linh and renn are hanging out there again, and they’re sitting at a table together and chatting while linh reads a college ap textbook she borrowed from the library to prepare for scibowl (this is projecting my friend onto linh here-)

(Renn is very concerned for Linh’s well being)

and so then we meet renn’s friend, aiden, the resident awesome non-binary gay who works the counter at the boba place every day after school (their dad is the manager). and Aiden is all “emmm oiiiiiii come here and help meee” to which Renn shoots back “I’m not your em-“

(em is the honorific for people younger than you but old enough to be your sibling/younger sibling)

so Aiden just comes back with “oh my bad, ba già” which basically means old lady, and linh goes pfffft and is trying not to laugh, which leads to Aiden and linh talking and introducing themselves and like Aiden is low key platonically flirting, and then suddenly renn is jealous but confused because she doesn’t. like linh that much. so why-?

then Aiden has to go take someone’s order, and they’re alone again. and linh notices Renn angrily sipping her boba, and is like “are you jealous?” and renn almost dies until she finds out Linh thinks that she has a crush on Aiden and now Renn is half-dying for many reasons

so they just keep chilling until Renn notices Aiden literally arranging mint leaves into a heart before placing the order down in front of this other guy (Kendrick) (whom Aiden ded has a crush on) and so obviously Renn teases him and asks why Aiden never gives her a little mint heart, which leads to linh making a comment as to how there seems to be a community of its own at the tea shop. so this transitions into more of the regulars entering the boba shop and a general vibe of we all know each other, and found family babyyyyy (also I present to you “plus we’ve got nhiều người bê đê / hell yeah we’re here to stay / let’s all reclaim the name / be proud of our ways” and basically nhiều người bê đê means lots of gays aha- and bê đê means gay but it’s often used in a derogatory way so yeah-)

then that transitions into “the other Vietnamese culture club,” because basically all of the regulars are viet kids who aren’t a part of the viet culture club (which Linh is the president of) at the high school for various reasons, such as not fitting in/not being “nerdy” enough aka this is basically the self-established viet teens gsa, and Linh gets roped into their meetings, where she’s like oh no. is there member confidentiality?? and renn is like relax I haven’t been outed yet, you won’t be either and then suddenly goes. shoot did I just come out to linh and why do I care so much? meanwhile linh is like oh gosh does she know?? and why am I slightly happy by the fact that she like girls too?? what is going on??

haha yeah- might actually. write this somehow. One day. :3

-🍵!!

HIIII I'M BACK FJJSJS sorry for the late response tea anon aaa school shit happened but anyways i am very interested in your Miss Saigon musical rant please do tell me more i'm legit interested! I don't know much about it asides from the fact that Lea Salonga, Rachelle Ann Go and Eva Noblezada were in the show at one point so yea i'm curious!!

Btw aaa I really like the boba milk tea song idea!! I like the found-family-dynamic/tight knit community within the tea shop and i think it would make for a really good musical number!! And i dunno it makes for a good introduction to the atmosphere and the general setting where renn and lihn would hang out together and how that atmosphere would affect them and the development of their relationship YAYYY i'm just rambling incoherently rn cause um yea currently in world religions class and currently very sleepy but i think your idea is really cool!!! And aiden seems really cool!! I hope you'll continue writing this tea anon aaa ur idea is really freaking good and i love it!

#legit tho i'm impressed!#the tea shop thingy would make an astounding musical number #and from a storytelling standpoint it's really freaking good!#i wish i can um elaborate on what i mean by that a little more but wah im not as eloquent in describing those stuffs #but i think it's really cool!!!#also aaa i love renn and lihn already wooo #this is a cool idea tea anon and i hope you'll write it someday!!!#also i am very interested in the miss saigon rant cjsjd #yay tea anon's here!#ask me stuff

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actress4him · 4 years

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So, this isn’t DoD related, but some of my readers ( @nevquariel and @coolmegan123 , specifically) were interested in hearing more about the other KH project I have in the works. As I mentioned in the comments of my last post, I started writing it while editing Sorrow’s Promise, and have dabbled with it off and on since then, though not for a while. I’m not sure when it will get finished and posted, I may take a break from KH for a little bit after I finish DoD, but we’ll see.

This story is multi-chap but stand alone, not a series. It’s really unlike anything else I’ve written. I generally stick with at least partially canon-verse in my fanfiction, but this one is definitely an AU, and not just by being canon-divergent or having an original character. Nope, this is set in a completely different world, in my own, made-up era, and only the characters (and a few fun parallels to canon here and there) stay the same. I’ve tried to keep everyone in character as much as possible, though Sora is the most changed just because of his circumstances. We see more of the real Sora in the flashbacks at the beginning of every chapter.

TL;DR, aka the tagline for the story -

In which Sora is Roxas, Xemnas is a mobster, Kairi is an actual princess, Axel is everyone's slightly unstable big brother, and Riku just wants to fix his mistakes...but what's new about that?

Starring Sora and Riku, with Axel and Naminé in primary support roles, Xion, Kairi, and Saix in secondary support roles, and pretty much every other KH character you can think of as the ensemble.

And now, because I love to spoil you guys, a sneak peek at chapter 1, below the cut. Enjoy, and let me know what you think!

Chapter 1

Sora stumbled off of the train car and into Central Station, bumping right into Riku's back. The older boy had halted in his path and was gazing around at the grand building, and Sora followed suite, eyes wide with wonder. There were so many people everywhere. They had never encountered a crowd quite like this one back at home.

As they began moving forward again, Sora reached out and clung to Riku's shirt, afraid that they might get separated. Soon they found themselves being swept out the front door and into the sunshine of Twilight Town. We made it. We're actually here.

“Where do we go now?”

Riku glanced back at Sora, scratching the back of his head. “Uh...why don't we just walk around for a while, get a feel for the place?” To anyone else, he would have sounded like he knew exactly what he was talking about. Only Sora had known him for long enough to detect the hint of nervousness in his voice.

“Yeah, okay.” Sora swallowed, trying not to feel too nervous, himself. This is what we wanted, remember? A new town, new people...anything but what we had.

Riku led the way through the unfamiliar streets, pointing out various shops that they passed along the way, obviously doing his best to make them both feel at ease. Sora tried his best to relax and enjoy the sights, but his rumbling stomach wasn't doing much to help in that area.

“Can we get something to eat? I'm starving.”

Riku stopped walking and turned to face Sora, a frown on his face. “Well, we don't have a lot of munny left.” Digging the pouch out of his pocket, he tugged it open and peered inside. “The train tickets cost more than I thought they would. So, we can get food, but only a little, okay? We've still got to figure out where we're gonna sleep tonight, too.”

Sora nodded. “Yeah, I'm really tired.” He stretched his arms above his head and yawned as if to prove the point. Laughing, Riku knocked Sora on the head. “I told you you should've slept on the train.”

They started to head into a nearby cafe, but were interrupted by someone calling out, “Hey, kids!”

Wrinkling his nose, Sora turned to see a couple of older teens, one with bright red hair and one with blue, walking towards them. “Are you talking to us?” he asked, pointing to his chest.

“We're not kids.” Riku crossed his arms and glared at the newcomers.

“Right, right.” The redhead waved his hands apologetically. “I'm sure you're much older and tougher than you look.”

“I'm Isa, and this is Lea,” the one with the long, blue hair and a strange scar between his eyes spoke up.

“You can call me Axel,” the redhead countered.

Riku studied them for a moment longer before dropping his arms. “Riku. That's Sora.”

“Great. Look, we couldn't help but overhear a little of your conversation,” Axel commented. “You guys new to town?”

“Just got here,” Sora piped up.

“Where are you from?” Isa questioned.

Riku shook his head. “Doesn't matter. We're never going back there.”

Axel and Isa exchanged a look that Sora couldn't read before Axel spoke again. “Listen, if you're looking for something to eat and somewhere to stay, we know a place. There's this guy we work for, along with a bunch of others just like you, and he lets us all sleep and eat at his place, too. It's a pretty good deal...a bit of work for him, in exchange for a bed and free meals.” He smiled earnestly and looked each of the boys in the eye. “What do you think, sound good?”

Sora cut his eyes over to Riku. It sounded great to him, but as the oldest, Riku was always the one to make the decisions. He could tell his friend was mulling over the offer. Finally he nodded to Sora, then smiled at the two older boys. “Sounds good. Lead the way.”

.o.0.O.0.o.

“Hey. Wake up, sleeping beauty.”

A hand was pummeling Sora's head down into his pillow. Instinctively, his fist shot out and made contact with something hard, prompting a stream of curses from the human alarm clock. Much more awake now, Sora rolled over, shaking his hand and glaring at Axel, who had retreated to his own bunk across the narrow room to whimper and rub his jaw.

“Serves you right,” Sora growled.

“Hey, I'm just trying to do you a favor and keep you out of trouble.” Axel gestured towards the rest of the bunks with the hand that wasn't holding his face. “You're the last one up. Again. They're not gonna be serving breakfast for much longer.”

Groaning, Sora pried himself up off the hard mattress and fumbled for his black boots underneath the bed. A moment later, he was up and shuffling sleepily towards the door.

“You know, a 'thank you' wouldn't kill you!” Axel called after him.

The thought of food was enough to prod Sora into a jog as he made his way down first one stark white hallway, then another. When he finally reached the mess hall, the usual din of clanging plates and murmuring voices met his ears. Axel had been right, everyone else was already here. Hurrying over to the kitchen window, Sora cleared his throat to catch the attention of the server. The response was a side eye, a snarl, then thankfully, a piece of bread and a spoonful of mush slapped onto a plate and shoved across the counter towards him. Sora breathed a sigh of relief. Just in the nick of time. I really should thank Axel later.

As Sora turned to look for a place to sit, he found himself face to, well, chest with one of his least favorite people in the world. He lifted his chin to meet Marluxia's stare with a scowl. “What do you want?”

“Heard you had issues in Agrabah yesterday.” The tall, muscular man shook his pink mane.

“What's it to you if I did?”

“Personally, I'm hoping that means you'll get kicked off that mission and I'll get it instead.” This comment came from Larxene, who had walked up just out of range of Sora's peripheral vision. He whirled around to glare at her instead. “I'm getting really tired of Wonderland, after all,” she continued, chewing idly on a piece of bread.

Sora's eyes narrowed. Wait, that bread... It only took him a second to make the connection. “Give it back, Larxene!” He lunged forward to snatch it out of her mouth, not even caring that she had contaminated it.

She ran a few steps back, smirking. “Come and get it!”

He would have done exactly that, had he not felt a pull at the plate in his hand. Marluxia had a hold of it, and though Sora was pretty strong, he was no match for those muscles. The older man wrenched it out of his grasp in a matter of seconds. Gritting his teeth, Sora gave up the mush for lost and chose to go after Larxene instead, hoping to salvage whatever bread might be left. He ran straight into her, tackling her to the floor.

Before either of them could get in any punches, however, a loud voice rang out across the room. “No fighting!”

Eyes going wide, Sora scrambled off of the blonde and stumbled away as fast as he could. No crust of bread was worth getting punished for fighting. His stomach wasn't exactly sure it agreed, however. It protested its emptiness harshly enough to make him grimace as he sank down to the floor in an empty corner of the room, watching with clenched fists as Marluxia and Larxene sauntered away to find their next unsuspecting victim.

“Here.” Sora had been so engrossed in his anger that he hadn't even noticed Axel enter the room and plop down next to him. “Take this. It's from last night. I was saving it for later, but you need it more than I do.”

Sora stared down at the proffered food for a moment, then turned his head away. “I don't need you to take care of me.”

Axel sighed loudly. “No, I know you don't. But you also don't need to go out in the field today not having eaten since yesterday morning. I'm well aware that you didn't get dinner last night because of whatever went wrong in Agrabah.”

“It's not my fault that some towns actually have decent government in place.” Sora shook his head slightly. “People see somebody like us skulking around, they tell the authorities. I'm lucky I saw them coming and got out of there without being questioned or imprisoned.”

“Yeah, you are. I know it's unfair, Rox, you don't have to tell me that.” Catching sight of the daggers that Sora was shooting from his eyes, Axel put up a hand in apology for the name blunder. “I mean Sora, sorry. Now would you just take the food? Neither of us really want to know what the penalty is for passing out and not making it back from a mission.”

Sora snatched the small bundle out of his hand with a grunt. “Fine.” The food wasn't much, but it would certainly be better than nothing. Maybe, if he was lucky, he could pilfer an apple or something while on the job later. “Thanks,” he mumbled with his mouth full.

“No problem.” Axel ran a hand over his wild red hair, the flattened spikes immediately popping back up into place. “Try to play it cool with Saix when you see him. Confident, like you know you're capable of doing the job, but not too cocky. He'll probably dock you down to something more menial than territory expansion, but you'd better not show him one speck of attitude about it or...”

“Or I'll regret it, I know the drill.” Sora finished off the food and licked a crumb from his finger. “You ready? Might as well get it over with.”

“Yeah.” Axel pushed himself up to his feet, then held out a mass of black fabric. “Here, I brought these. You forgot yours in your rush.”

Grunting his thanks, Sora took the cloak and fastened it around his neck. On the other side of the room, most of the other soldiers, as they were unofficially called, were already lining up to receive their assignments. When his turn came, Sora stepped in front of Saix, meeting his cold gaze but trying his best to keep his own expression neutral.

“Roxas.” Saix's eyes flicked down to the clipboard in his hand, then back up to Sora's. “Debt collection. Twilight Town, east side.”

Sora blinked, the familiarity of that name sending a jolt through his brain, but forced himself to nod stiffly and pull his hood up over his face.

“You don't need a portal for Twilight Town,” Saix sneered after a moment of silence. Sora glanced back up at him, and he pointed to the door. “Go.”

Right. Nodding silently again, Sora stepped out of line and headed back across the room and out the door. So, this really was more punishment. Not only was he stuck with his least favorite task of debt collection, but he had also been relegated to the town that was so close by, you could walk to it rather than being sent by portal. A fabulous trek on a nearly empty stomach.

In another half hour, the walls of Twilight Town came into view, with the clock tower in the center of town poking out up above. That jolt ran through him once again. Several years ago, when they had first joined The Organization, he and Riku had often worked Twilight Town together. But that had been a long time ago, back before they had gotten promoted to bigger and better locations. On occasion after that, each of them would work a shift here, but Sora had not been back in a while. Not since Riku...

Shaking his head violently, Sora stamped out those thoughts before they could fully materialize. Stick with the present. Dwelling on the past never gets you anywhere. With a sigh, he walked through the gates of the city and surveyed the quiet streets. Well, this munny isn't going to collect itself.

DO NOT REPOST OR REBLOG WITHOUT CREDIT!

#kingdom hearts #kingdom hearts fanfiction #kingdom hearts au #fanfic #fanfiction

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