#also for reference i scanned this a week or so after i stopped posting lol

[art--harridan]

[Image description: A traditional drawing of Katrina from the film Vamp. It is boldly coloured with oil pastels, and is a close-up of her face, stretched out to bare her fangs. Both her mouth and her eyes are wide open, although one of her eyes is obscured in a dark shadow. She is deeply shadowed, although the contours of her face are lit up from below in a bright and unnatural neon green, which also makes her visible eye look uncanny. There is a pink rim light around the top of her head, and deeper reds behind her. The oil pastels create a grainy texture that is offset by the rigidity of the colour blocking of the different tones of her face.]

[levandright]

And oh, how I'd love to go Paris again

pairing : jake x f!reader ୨ৎ content / warning(s) : non-idol au, love at first sight, fluff, strangers to friends to lovers(not stated but heavily implied), tension, they're in love your honor, fate reference/mention, can be read as either hs or uni au its up to you ୨ৎ word count : 5.9k

synopsis. you're overwhelmed with your school finals close by, while you are taking a short break from your studying, you couldn't help but reminisce about your precious memories in the city of love when a song that reminds you of your time in paris play. ୨ৎ lev notes : the class trip may not be 100% accurate but its for the plot okay... i had to make it inspired by the 1975 cause i love them too much not to do so + it fits with how i literally have them as my top artist this year :3 (i started writing this days earlier before spotify wrapped lol) also i literally had paris on loop for like 7 hours in total while writing this... anyways hope y'all like this cause it took a lot of brain power to write it, trust i will post what the heart wants as soon as i finish a surprise fic im working on rn ꒰⠀for @sugarikiz event 'ʏᴏᴜʀ ℰ𝓎ℯ𝓈 ᴏɴʟʏ ☁︎.𖥔 ' ꒱

you're at your school's library, cramming for your upcoming finals. with a little over a week to prepare for months' worth of lessons across multiple subjects, the pressure is taking quite a toll on you. two cups of coffee sit beside your laptop, one already empty. even though you've been studying for less than 40 minutes, you already feel the urge to down all the caffeine left in front of you just to keep from dozing off again.

sigh, 'just gotta finish this whole powerpoint. then, i can finally relax for a bit' you silently hype yourself out. with the reward of a break for an hour of studying, you quickly go through the entire lesson in a flash.

grabbing the not empty cup of coffee, you take a much needed sip to keep yourself awake for more hours of studying.

a while later, you're stretching in your seat after having finished with that specific powerpoint. 'finally i can take a break' you think to yourself

as you sit, and stare at your laptop's screen. contimplating on what to do to pass time, you decide to play music to relax yourself.

clicking the shuffle button on your playlist. you put your headphones on and rest your head on your arms, as the familiar tune of paris by the 1975 play.

the music pulls you into a memory, that unforgettable class trip to paris.

꒰ and oh, how i'd love to go paris again ꒱

you’re on the bus, the city outside the window slowly coming to life. everyone in your class is chatting excitedly, pointing out landmarks and planning what to do when you finally get off. the eiffel tower is getting closer, its towering frame making your heart race with excitement.

“can you believe we’re actually here?” keeho says, leaning over to nudge your shoulder. his energy is infectious, and you can’t help but smile.

hyunjin, sitting across the aisle, snaps a quick photo through the window. “this already feels unreal,” he says, grinning. “i’m going to fill my camera roll today.”

the bus comes to a stop, and your teacher announces a short break to explore the area. the three of you quickly stick together as everyone spills out onto the cobblestone street. paris feels alive—the air smells like fresh bread and coffee, and the chatter of locals blends with the hum of passing cars.

“we need food. let’s find a café!” keeho declares, already marching toward a row of cozy-looking places with outdoor seating.

you follow, laughing as hyunjin drags you by the wrist to keep up. he’s scanning every building, taking quick snapshots of anything that catches his eye. “wait, stand here,” he says suddenly, pulling out his phone to snap a candid photo of you and keeho in front of a flower shop.

“are you going to take pictures the whole trip?” you tease.

“obviously,” hyunjin replies, unbothered. “someone has to document how good we look in paris.”

eventually, the three of you settle at a small café. the waiter brings over menus, and you all take a moment to soak it all in. keeho orders a slice of cake, hyunjin gets a croissant and coffee, and you decide on a simple baguette sandwich.

“okay, this is officially the best food i’ve ever had,” keeho says after his first bite.

“it’s just cake,” hyunjin says, rolling his eyes but stealing a forkful anyway.

you laugh as they bicker, feeling a warmth settle in your chest. sitting there with your best friends, surrounded by the magic of paris, everything feels perfect.

after finishing your meals, you and your friends head back to the bus to regroup with your class. the energy is buzzing as everyone talks about their plans for the rest of the day. your teacher announces that the next stop is a famous museum nearby.

the museum is grand, with high ceilings and beautiful architecture that makes you feel small in the best way. inside, it’s quieter, with your classmates dispersing into smaller groups.

hyunjin immediately pulls out his camera again. “this lighting is perfect,” he mutters, snapping a photo of a sculpture in the corner.

keeho rolls his eyes with a smirk. “he’s gonna be like this the whole time.”

“he’s consistent, at least,” you joke, earning a laugh from keeho as the two of you start wandering through the exhibits together.

the artwork is stunning—paintings that feel alive, sculptures that seem to breathe. you and keeho take your time strolling through the halls, sharing your thoughts on each piece.

“i don’t get this one,” keeho says, staring at an abstract painting.

“it’s open to interpretation,” you reply.

“so… the artist spilled paint everywhere?”

you nudge his arm. “be serious!”

keeho grins but then glances around. “hey, i’m gonna find the bathroom real quick. don’t get lost.”

“sure, sure,” you say, waving him off.

as he walks away, you wander aimlessly, letting your feet carry you through the museum’s winding halls. you stop to admire a large painting of a serene countryside when, out of nowhere, you bump into someone.

“oh, i’m so sorry!” you blurt out, taking a step back.

the stranger turns to you, and your words catch in your throat. he’s tall, with warm eyes and a gentle smile. his presence feels calm, yet somehow magnetic.

“no worries,” he says, his voice warm and calm, with a hint of an australian accent you catch right away. “are you okay?”

you nod quickly, feeling your cheeks heat up. “y-yeah, i wasn’t looking where i was going.”

he chuckles lightly, brushing it off. “happens to the best of us.”

he pauses for a moment, as if waiting to see if you’ll say anything else. you manage a small smile. “thanks for being so nice about it. i’m—uh…” before you can finish, keeho’s voice rings out from somewhere nearby.

“hey, y/n! where’d you go?”

the spell is broken, and you glance over your shoulder to see keeho waving at you. turning back to the stranger, you offer an apologetic smile. “that’s my friend. i should go.”

“of course,” he says, still smiling. “take care.”

you hurry off toward keeho, your heart still racing. as you rejoin your friends, you glance back briefly to see the stranger walking away. something about the moment lingers, a small spark you can’t quite explain.

after regrouping with keeho and hyunjin, the three of you continue exploring the museum. hyunjin has finally tucked his camera away, much to keeho’s relief.

“didn’t think i’d ever see the day you’d stop taking pictures,” keeho teases.

“i’m just saving space for later,” hyunjin retorts, grinning. “besides, i want to actually enjoy this.”

the three of you move through the museum, pausing at different exhibits. keeho offers more of his hilarious “critiques,” while hyunjin points out details you might’ve missed. for a while, it feels like time doesn’t exist, just the three of you soaking in the beauty of parisian art.

after some time, you excuse yourself to find the restroom. as you leave, keeho calls after you, “don’t get lost again!”

“i won’t!” you call back with a laugh, shaking your head.

once you step out of the restroom, you turn a corner and nearly bump into someone again.

“oh—sorry!” you start, looking up. and there he is.

the boy from earlier.

“you again,” he says with a warm smile, his eyes lighting up with recognition.

“yeah, me again,” you reply, feeling your face heat up.

“i guess we’re just destined to keep running into each other,” he jokes, his tone light and teasing.

you laugh softly. “seems like it. i never got your name earlier.”

“jake,” he says, extending his hand. “and you?”

“y/n,” you say, shaking his hand. his grip is gentle but firm, and you feel your heart skip a beat.

“nice to officially meet you, y/n,” jake says, his smile widening.

the two of you start chatting, the conversation flowing easily. he tells you he’s here with his own group, visiting from another school all the way from australia, and you share a little about your own trip. his voice is calm and steady, and his subtle humor keeps making you giggle.

at one point, he gestures toward a nearby painting. “what do you think of this one? please don’t say the artist spilled paint everywhere.”

you burst into laughter, shaking your head. “no, no, that’s keeho’s specialty. i actually think it’s kind of beautiful, in a chaotic way.”

“good answer,” jake says, grinning.

before you know it, the sound of footsteps and familiar voices echo down the hall. “y/n! where are you?” keeho calls, his voice unmistakable.

you glance in the direction of the sound, then back at jake, your smile faltering slightly. “that’s my friends. i should go.”

jake nods, his expression soft. “of course. it was nice talking to you, y/n.”

“you too, jake,” you say, stepping away reluctantly. as you walk toward your friends, you can’t help but glance back once. jake is still standing there, giving you a small wave.

you rejoin keeho and hyunjin, who immediately start teasing you for taking so long. but as the three of you continue exploring the museum, you can’t stop thinking about jake. and though you don’t say it out loud, you quietly hope that fate will bring you together again.

it’s been a day since the museum, but your thoughts keep circling back to jake. his kind smile, the way he made you laugh, and that unmistakable australian accent—it’s all stuck in your head.

after dinner with your classmates at the hotel, the buzz of chatter feels overwhelming. you decide to step outside for some fresh air, hoping a quiet walk will help clear your mind.

the streets of paris are calmer at this hour, bathed in a soft, golden glow from the streetlights. a small park just down the road catches your eye, and you wander toward it, settling onto a bench beneath a tree.

you sit there for a while, letting your thoughts drift. the cool breeze carries the faint scent of flowers, and the distant hum of city life feels oddly soothing.

suddenly, you feel someone sit down beside you. you glance over, and your heart skips a beat.

it’s him.

jake.

the boy you couldn’t stop thinking about.

he notices your surprise and gives you that same warm smile. “hey,” he says casually. “fancy seeing you here.”

you blink, struggling to process the coincidence. “jake? what are you doing here?”

“could ask you the same thing,” he says with a light chuckle, leaning back against the bench. “i was out for a walk, saw this park, and thought i’d sit for a bit. didn’t expect to run into you again.”

you laugh softly, shaking your head. “paris must be smaller than we think.”

“or fate has a funny way of working,” he says, his tone teasing but his eyes sincere.

the conversation flows naturally from there. he asks about your class trip, and you tell him about your visit to the museum and all the places your group plans to see next. he shares stories about his own class, laughing about his friends’ antics and the moments that make the trip memorable.

“you’re telling me someone actually fell asleep in front of the mona lisa?” you ask, barely holding back laughter.

“yup. full-on snoring,” jake replies, grinning. “the security guard didn’t know whether to wake him or leave him there.”

the two of you laugh together, the sound blending into the quiet of the park.

after a while, jake stands up. “wait here,” he says, his tone playful but mysterious.

“where are you going?” you ask, watching him walk toward a nearby food stand.

“you’ll see,” he calls back over his shoulder.

a few minutes later, he returns, holding two neatly wrapped chocolate crepes. he hands one to you with a grin. “figured this would make the moment even better.”

you take it, smiling at his thoughtfulness. “thanks, jake. this is perfect.”

as you both sit there, enjoying the crepes and chatting under the parisian sky, you can’t help but feel like this moment is something straight out of a dream.

the days in paris pass like a blur, filled with sightseeing, laughter, and the magic of simply being in the city. but the most unexpected highlight of your trip that osn’t on the schedule—is jake.

you can’t quite explain it, but somehow, you keep running into him. these little moments have become the thing you secretly look forward to the most.

────୨ৎ────

you’re standing at the counter of a small café, debating between ordering a croissant or a pain au chocolat. the decision feels monumental, and you’re entirely lost in thought when a voice interrupts you.

“go for the pain au chocolat,” jake says, appearing beside you with an easy smile.

you blink, startled at first, before breaking into a grin. “jake? what are you doing here?”

“getting breakfast,” he says, holding up a cup of coffee and a bag. “didn’t think i’d see you again so soon.”

“neither did i,” you reply, chuckling. “are you always this lucky, or is paris just this small?”

“maybe both,” he teases. “need help deciding?”

“i was leaning toward the croissant, but now i feel like i have to trust your judgment.”

“always trust the chocolate,” he says, nodding sagely.

you laugh and order the pain au chocolat. as you wait, the two of you chat, his humor making the simple café feel like the best spot in paris.

────୨ৎ────

a couple of days later, you’re wandering through a mall with keeho and hyunjin, trying to find souvenirs to take back home. keeho is busy debating between two scarves for his mom, and hyunjin is glued to his phone, looking up recommendations.

you drift toward a small kiosk filled with handmade trinkets, running your fingers over delicate keychains.

“don’t tell me you’re buying one of those cheesy eiffel tower keychains,” a familiar voice says behind you.

you spin around, your heart skipping a beat. “jake!”

he’s holding a bag of his own, filled with souvenirs. “fancy meeting you here.”

“again,” you add with a laugh.

keeho spots jake and gives you a knowing look, while hyunjin just raises an eyebrow before wandering off. you try to ignore them and focus on jake instead.

“what’s in the bag?” you ask, nodding toward his purchases.

“just some stuff for my family,” he says. “and maybe a keychain or two.”

you laugh. “i thought you were against cheesy keychains.”

“only when other people buy them,” he says, his grin mischievous.

────୨ৎ────

the park has become your little escape, a quiet place to think and reflect. you’re sitting on the same bench as before, lost in thought, when you hear footsteps approach.

“do you have a permanent spot here, or are you waiting for me?” jake’s voice breaks through your daydream.

you turn, smiling as he sits down beside you. “maybe both.”

“lucky me, then,” he says, leaning back and looking up at the sky. “so, what’s on your mind today?”

you hesitate for a moment, then decide to be honest. “just… thinking about how much i’ve enjoyed this trip. and how strange it’ll feel to leave.”

jake nods, his expression softening. “yeah, i get that. it’s been a lot, hasn’t it?”

“yeah,” you say quietly, and for a moment, the two of you sit in comfortable silence.

that evening. your teacher gathers the entire class in the lobby of the hotel to deliver the news.

“you’ve got two days left to enjoy paris before we head back home,” she says. “make sure you start packing your things and grab any last-minute souvenirs.”

the room fills with murmurs of excitement and relief. most of your classmates are thrilled to return to canada, and part of you is, too. but as you head back to your room, a bittersweet feeling settles in your chest.

two more days. that’s all the time you have left before you have to say goodbye to jake.

you don’t know why the thought stings so much, but it does. and now, more than ever, you hope for one more chance to see him.

────୨ৎ────

the second-to-last day in paris feels like a blur of excitement and nostalgia. you, keeho, and hyunjin make it a mission to visit as many places as possible, squeezing every last drop out of your remaining time in the city.

as the three of you step into the vintage store, you're greeted by the faint smell of aged leather and a mix of retro music playing softly in the background. the shop is packed with everything from old records to racks of vintage clothes and shelves lined with random knick-knacks.

“okay,” keeho announces, clapping his hands together. “this is the place to find hidden gems.”

hyunjin raises an eyebrow. “hidden gems or overpriced junk?”

“you just don’t have the vision,” keeho shoots back, already digging through a rack of jackets.

you wander toward a glass display case near the counter, something catching your eye—a vintage digicam. it’s small, sleek, and looks like it’s been well cared for. you kneel to get a closer look, curiosity piqued.

“hey, what’d you find?” keeho asks, appearing beside you with a leopard-print scarf draped around his neck.

you point to the camera. “a digicam. looks pretty cool, doesn’t it?”

keeho leans in, inspecting it. “very cool. are you gonna get it?”

you hesitate. “i don’t know… do you think it still works?”

“only one way to find out,” hyunjin says, suddenly appearing on your other side. he gestures to the shop owner, a kind-looking older man, who unlocks the case and hands you the camera.

you examine it closely, turning it over in your hands. the lens looks clean, and the buttons feel intact.

“how much?” you ask the shop owner.

“twenty euros,” he replies with a smile.

keeho gasps dramatically. “a steal! you have to get it.”

“yeah, before someone else does,” hyunjin agrees, casually flipping through a rack of shirts.

you laugh at their enthusiasm and decide to go for it. “alright, fine. i’m buying it.”

as you hand over the cash, keeho strikes another pose with the scarf. “what do you think? parisian chic, or should i stick to my usual?”

“stick to your usual,” hyunjin says without looking up.

keeho sighs, draping the scarf back onto the rack. “you two have no appreciation for drama.”

you test out the digicam, snapping a quick photo of keeho mid-pout. the image pops up on the tiny screen, surprisingly crisp for something so old.

“perfect,” you say, showing him the photo.

keeho grins. “okay, maybe you do have an eye for the dramatic.”

hyunjin wanders over with an oversized sweater, holding it up against himself. “thoughts?”

keeho wrinkles his nose. “are you auditioning for a grandpa role?”

“i like it,” you say, defending hyunjin’s choice.

“thank you,” hyunjin replies, smugly tossing the sweater over his arm.

the three of you spend a bit longer in the shop, goofing around and trying on random hats, sunglasses, and jackets. you snap more photos with your new camera—keeho wearing an old captain’s hat, hyunjin attempting to look cool in aviator sunglasses, and a candid shot of the two of them laughing together.

by the time you leave, the bag with your new camera swings lightly at your side, and your heart feels full. the memory of this moment—just you and your friends being unapologetically yourselves—already feels like a keepsake all its own.

at a small crêperie, hyunjin’s crêpe is covered in whipped cream and chocolate drizzle.

“how are you even holding that without it falling apart?” you ask, staring at the overloaded treat in wonder.

hyunjin shrugs. “skill,” he says simply before taking an enormous bite.

keeho watches in horror. “that’s going to end up all over your shirt, and i am not letting you borrow mine.”

“you sound like my mom,” hyunjin says through a mouthful of crêpe.

by the seine river, you take turns with the digicam, capturing moments that feel like they belong in a movie. keeho makes exaggerated poses on the bridge, while hyunjin tries (and fails) to look mysterious.

when it’s your turn to hold the camera, you take a candid shot of the two of them mid-laugh. it’s perfect—pure and genuine, a reminder of how much these moments mean to you.

“alright, photographer extraordinaire,” keeho says, pointing dramatically at the eiffel tower in the distance. “get my good side.”

“you don’t have one,” hyunjin jokes, earning a glare from keeho.

as the day winds down, you find yourself lingering outside the hotel while keeho and hyunjin head inside.

“we’ll be in the lobby if you need us,” keeho calls over his shoulder, giving you a knowing look.

once they’re gone, you make your way to the park. the same bench, the same tree, and this time, jake is already there, waiting.

he stands when he sees you, his smile soft but bright. “hey.”

“hey,” you reply, walking up to him. “beat me here this time, huh?”

“had a feeling you’d come,” he says, shrugging.

you sit down beside him, the quiet of the park wrapping around you like a blanket.

“you’ve been busy,” jake comments. “i saw you earlier near the seine with your friends. looked like fun.”

“it was,” you say, smiling at the memory. “trying to cram everything into one day, you know? time feels so short now.”

jake’s expression shifts, just slightly, and you know he understands what you mean.

“speaking of time…” you begin, hesitating. “we’re leaving tomorrow. my class is flying back home.”

jake nods slowly, his gaze dropping to his hands. “i figured it was coming. my group leaves the day after.”

there’s a pause, the kind that feels heavy but not uncomfortable.

“do you think we’ll meet again?” you ask softly, not daring to look at him.

“i hope we do,” he replies, his voice quiet but firm.

the weight of his words lingers between you, saying everything that neither of you can.

you pull out your digicam, breaking the tension with a small smile. “can i take some pictures? you know, to remember this?”

jake’s face brightens slightly. “of course.”

you snap a few shots—some posed, some candid. jake laughing at something you said, jake looking off into the distance, and finally, one of the two of you together, taken with his help.

as the night deepens, you know it’s time to go. you stand, reluctantly. “i should get back before my friends come looking for me.”

jake nods but doesn’t move. instead, he reaches out, gently taking your wrist.

“wait.”

you turn, surprised, as he pulls something from his jacket pocket—a pair of silver rings, simple and elegant.

“for you,” he says softly, slipping the smaller one onto your right hand’s ring finger. the fit is perfect.

your heart races, words failing you as he looks at you, his gaze full of unspoken meaning. then, he leans forward, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“goodbye, y/n,” he murmurs, stepping back.

it takes you a moment to find your voice. “goodbye, jake.”

as you walk back to the hotel, your mind replays the moment over and over, the cool metal of the ring on your finger grounding you in the surrealness of it all. that night, lying in bed, you can’t help but wonder if the universe will bring you and jake together again someday.

꒰ paris again, and again, and again, and again, and again ꒱

a tap on your shoulder pulls you out of your thoughts, and you lift your head groggily. you blink, trying to focus on the person standing in front of you. it’s keeho, grinning mischievously, while hyunjin stands behind him, sipping his americano with a slightly amused expression.

“y/n, what are you doing?” keeho asks, leaning in and waving his hand in front of your face.

you yawn, rubbing your eyes. “i’m taking a break. i can’t even keep my eyes open for more than a minute.”

hyunjin raises an eyebrow. “yeah, we can tell. you’re practically sleeping at your desk.” he leans against the back of your chair, his voice cool but teasing. “how about you stop pretending to study and actually join us for once?”

keeho’s grin widens as he jumps into the conversation. “we’re heading to a café to study, and you’re coming with us. you need a change of scenery.”

you groan, feeling your body resist the idea of leaving the comforting quiet of the library, but deep down, you know you’ve been at it for too long. a change of pace might be exactly what you need.

“come on, y/n,” keeho insists, his voice full of that playful energy you can’t ignore. “we’ll make it more fun. you can’t study like this. plus, you’ll probably get more done with us around.”

you hesitate for a moment, your mind torn between the need for a proper break and the looming pressure of your exams. still, you can’t deny how much you need a little distraction. “fine,” you sigh, finally giving in. “but if we end up just talking the entire time, i’m leaving.”

hyunjin chuckles, giving you a knowing look. “i think you’ll be okay. we’ll actually study this time. promise.”

keeho grabs your arm, pulling you up from your seat with a playful tug. “good, because you need us to keep you sane. now, let’s get out of here.”

as the three of you leave the library, you let out one last sigh, knowing that even though you might not get as much studying done as you hope, you could definitely use the company.

the café is warm and inviting, the soft hum of background chatter mixing with the aroma of fresh coffee and baked goods. it’s a stark contrast to the quiet, studious atmosphere of the library, and you find yourself breathing a little easier as you step inside.

you find a small corner table and set your laptop down, letting out a contented sigh as you settle in. keeho and hyunjin head to the counter to order, leaving you to fidget with your feet, trying to shake off the weight of the past few hours spent studying.

your eyes flicker to the window, watching people pass by as you idly tap your fingers against your coffee cup. eventually, you stop, catching sight of the ring on your right hand.

you pause, fingers tracing the smooth metal, your mind drifting back to paris. “it’s been three years since that time in paris,” you think to yourself, a wave of nostalgia washing over you. the memory feels distant now, like a dream you’re not quite sure was real.

you wonder if jake still remembers you, if he thinks about you at all. you’d been so wrapped up in the magic of those moments, so caught up in the fleeting connection between the two of you, that you’d completely forgotten to exchange socials, to keep in touch.

a soft laugh escapes you, tinged with frustration. you can still picture your past self—so carefree, so caught up in the magic of the moment, never once thinking about the things you should have done. and now, years later, it stings.

the photos you took back then are all you have left—memories frozen in time, but still, you find yourself wishing you had more. a way to bridge the gap between then and now, something more than a ring on your finger that’s become a quiet reminder of what you left behind.

a soft laugh from keeho breaks you from your thoughts, and you glance up to see him and hyunjin walking toward the table, their arms full of coffee cups and pastries. keeho places your cup down in front of you, his expression softening when he notices the faraway look in your eyes.

“you okay?” he asks, settling into his chair across from you.

you smile faintly. “yeah, just… thinking about paris.”

hyunjin raises an eyebrow but doesn’t push. he simply places a croissant in front of you and nods. “we’ll make it through these finals. paris will still be there when you’re done.”

you nod, but the bittersweet smile remains on your face, the question still lingering in the back of your mind. will you ever see jake again?

you manage to get some work done, but there’s plenty of laughter and light-hearted banter between you guys. hyunjin and keeho constantly bicker over the most ridiculous things—whether iced coffee is better than hot coffee, or if studying with background music is productive.

“you’re seriously telling me you don’t like the classics?” keeho says, shaking his head dramatically. “what kind of music do you even listen to, hyunjin?”

“i listen to music that doesn’t make my brain want to shut down,” hyunjin replies with a smirk, taking a sip from his americano. “but hey, if you need classical music to study, you do you.”

you laugh at their back-and-forth, shaking your head at their silly rivalry. the sound of their bickering is strangely comforting, distracting you from the pressure building up inside your mind. you feel a little lighter, even if it’s just for a moment.

after a while, you excuse yourself and head to the bathroom inside the café, needing a quick break from the endless cycle of notes and coffee. the place is busy, but the hum of quiet conversations and the scent of freshly brewed coffee make it feel comforting.

you take your time, refreshing yourself and letting your thoughts wander for a few moments. when you finally finish and head back out, you’re not paying attention to where you’re going, still lost in your thoughts.

and then—bam.

you collide with someone, the force making you stumble slightly. your reflexes kick in, and you immediately start bowing in apology, your words rushing out in a flurry of embarrassment.

“i’m so sorry! i didn’t mean—”

but before you can finish, you hear a familiar voice, soft and warm, with that unmistakable australian accent.

“y/n?”

you freeze, and the world seems to stop for a moment. you slowly lift your head, and there, standing in front of you, is none other than jake. in the flesh.

for a split second, all your words get caught in your throat. your heart races, and your brain scrambles to process the unexpected reunion. this can’t be real. is this a dream?

jake’s brows furrow slightly as he looks at you with concern, his voice softening. “are you okay?” he asks, stepping a little closer to you, clearly worried about your sudden silence.

you blink, feeling your heart thumping louder in your chest as you try to find your words, but they’re nowhere to be found. you stand there, staring at him, completely at a loss for what to say.

he leans in slightly, just enough to make sure you’re okay, his face showing that familiar concern. “y/n?” he gently says your name, and your body snaps back to reality.

“i—uh… sorry, i just—didn’t expect to see you.” you feel the heat rush to your cheeks, embarrassment flushing your face. "i thought… i thought i was imagining things."

jake chuckles softly, his expression softening with a smile that makes your heart flutter. “i didn’t expect to run into you here either.” his tone is light, playful, but there’s something in his eyes—something that makes the air feel a little thicker.

you both stand there for a moment, awkward silence hanging between you. the familiarity of this moment feels surreal, but there’s no denying the warmth that spreads through you at the sight of him.

“so, uh,” you start, finally finding your voice, “what are you doing here? i didn’t expect to run into you… again.”

jake’s lips curl into that familiar, soft smile. he shrugs nonchalantly, but there’s a glint in his eyes, something unspoken. “guess it’s just fate.” he says, his tone playful but there’s a layer of sincerity underneath it, one you can’t quite ignore.

you chuckle lightly, but the tension between you both is palpable now, thickening the air around you. there’s an undeniable pull between you, something that neither of you have fully acknowledged, but it’s there, lingering in the space between your words. you feel the heat of his gaze, and the sudden awareness of how close you both are makes your heart beat just a little faster.

“so… how’ve you been?” you ask, needing to break the moment but also curious, wanting to know everything about him since that last time you saw him.

jake rubs the back of his neck with a small, shy smile, a gesture you remember well. “i’ve been good… just been busy, you know. but i’ve been thinking about our time in paris a lot.” his voice is casual, but his eyes hold something deeper, a hint of vulnerability that you weren’t expecting.

you nod, understanding exactly what he means. you’ve been thinking about paris too. every memory feels like a treasure, something you’ve carefully tucked away, not wanting to forget any part of it. you wish you had more time to ask him about the things he’s been up to, to know if he’s felt the same pull that you have, the connection that neither of you can explain.

you glance down at your hand absentmindedly, and that’s when you see it—the ring he gave you in the park, so simple yet so meaningful. the silver band glints in the soft café lighting, and your heart does a little flip.

jake notices too, his gaze dropping to your hand. his smile softens, almost imperceptibly, but you notice it. there’s a quiet understanding between you two that you don’t need to speak aloud.

“i see you’re still wearing it,” he murmurs, his voice low, almost tender.

you look up at him, meeting his eyes, and for a moment, everything else fades away. you feel like you’re back in paris, standing in that park, with everything still ahead of you, full of hope and possibility.

“i didn’t want to take it off,” you say quietly, your voice barely above a whisper.

jake doesn’t say anything at first, his eyes locked on yours. then, without warning, he reaches out slowly, his fingers brushing lightly over your hand, and he gently presses a kiss to your right hand, right where the ring rests. the simple gesture feels like it speaks volumes, and you can’t help but feel a surge of warmth spread through you.

“i’m glad,” he says softly, his voice just above a murmur. “i’m glad you kept it.”

for a moment, neither of you speaks. the world feels like it’s holding its breath. the space between you feels charged, but neither of you is in a rush to break the silence. it’s as if this moment, this small, quiet exchange, is enough.

you blink, still a little stunned by the gesture, your heart racing, but a smile tugs at the corners of your lips. you can’t help but feel the warmth in your chest, the way his simple action makes you feel seen, valued, even though you never really said all the things you wanted to say.

when you finally speak, your voice is soft but steady. “i didn’t think i’d see you again.”

jake takes a deep breath, his eyes never leaving yours. “i didn’t either, but i’m glad i did.”

enha perm taglist. @dazzlingjaeyun @honeychocos @manaah02 @kozumesphone

©levandright

[nightroo]

May or may not have forgotten what I posted here myself months ago so the last post had a few repeats. oops.

Well I know for sure this one won’t because I stopped posting when I started the second semester, which is what this post is about. So the drawing above is the start of working with more complex shapes, using the ones we learned from last semester. This is also where things got interesting, since I could see the potential for architectural drawings.

There are a lot, and I mean A LOT of drawings like these in my sketchbook, I’m gonna show you only the ones I find interesting.

After that we went back a bit for cast shadows, which I have decided are my new mortal enemy in art. A long time ago it was rendering hair, but that’s nothing compared to this.

The amount of calculations you need to do for this and the different formulas for each shape make me wanna rip my hair off. And that’s before getting into more complex shapes.

They're not 100% correct but my teacher said the majority of people won’t notice anything wrong so I shouldn’t worry about it. I won’t until I need it for a personal project, then I’ll get very annoyed again.

After that nightmare I got rewarded with finally using colors to render for the first time!!! I love rendering with colors so I was very excited haha

The copper (right middle sphere) is my absolute favorite, and my teacher really liked it as well.

We also had a small lecture on arrows and ribbons/fabric and we got to render them with colors as well.

For all the colored drawings I used a combination of alcohol markers and colored pencils. The markers melted and blended the pencils and I could use this to mix colors I didn't have. For example, I didn’t have a red marker at all.

After that we had a fun exercise where we needed to either study an object or design our own. The purpose was to use the previous lessons about shapes in perspective, and the rendering of different materials. I went with a gun design, but not just any gun-this one is technically 3 guns, a pistol and an SMG that you can connect and form an assault rifle. So I designed each gun separately (somehow I managed to turn this exercise to designing 3 objects instead of one, leave it to me to make it harder on myself lmao), and thought about how they connect, making sure the chambers kinda align and stuff like that.

I don’t wanna brag but I got the highest grade in the class for this assignment. Mostly because I’m the only one that actually rendered the different materials (or tried to), but also because my teacher liked the idea and thought it was interesting, and something people would actually buy if it was real.

It’s not the best but I literally didn’t have a grey marker so I was pretty limited. I chose a stained-glass theme for some reason, I didn’t want to make it a normal looking gun. The scan made it a bit more contrast-y than it is irl.

After a huge break we came back and had one lesson of silhouettes, something I kinda knew but never went out and made studies of. The challenging part of this was the time limit, at the start we had a minute, but it went down to 30 seconds. We were allowed to go overtime but it wasn't considered good.

On the same lesson, we also had life drawing, using each other as models. We had to get the pose down in one minute, and then take that as a reference for a more detailed drawing. I chose to completely change the context at that point lol

The next lesson was about isometric perspective. I don’t think I’ve actually talked about this here, but I got scammed by a guy who asked me to make him a city island in isometric perspective, then when it came time to pay, he “took a vacation” for two weeks. Came back to tell me he’s definitely gonna pay me. Proceeded to disappear. Anyways I haven’t done isometric from that moment until this lesson, where we were given a prompt word and had to draw an environment following it. I used only colored pencils for this one because I forgot to bring my markers, but it was a nice restriction to only use 12 colors and try to combine them to make the rest. I really enjoyed this one since I got the freedom to make something cool.

(the prompts are top-to-bottom forest, COVID-19, underwater and space) my teacher walked up to my desk to see what I’m doing while I worked on the space one, and he said “you are crazy” every time he passed by. He showed everyone’s work around, and a lot of people liked mine :) The space one is based on a black hole btw, but if it was an eldritch horror.

The last lesson was a time for the teacher to review everyone’s work one by one, so most of the time we were waiting for our turn. He put up a pic of an old camera if any of us wanted to draw it, but I used it as a reference for a building because it reminded me of art deco architecture. After finishing that, I had an idea for a shrine kind of place, inspired by a spot I built for a friend’s minecraft server that we didn’t end up using. And I topped it off with Lykena and Eivrun sketches (that for Eivrun might turn into a full painting when it’s her turn)

The entire year my teacher was occasionally asking me if I’m not getting bored, because we were going through a lot of basics I was obviously proficient at already, but I always found something new to learn, no matter how small, even on topics I practiced a lot before. So I’d say this workshop was very useful for me. And besides, it’s always good to get critiques from a professional, and from people who are interested in art.

[alovelyrat]

Minor spoilers below for OUAW Eps 1, 3, 20

Thanks to @papa-goose-ollie's comment I was able to narrow down things and start scanning through early episodes and I think I've solved it... kinda... maybe? It starts in episode 1 at 2:25:00, after Gricko eats bananyas because earlier Gideon punched him when he thought he was made of gold due to swamp gas/a fae curse. Nikki says he is still missing his two front teeth. Frost then comments "No popsicles for a while I think." (Maybe he meant the opposite, cause from my understanding popsicles are fine after wisdom teeth removals, but that's beside the point) and Gricko replies "I could really use a popsicle anywhere" (bro needs an icepack hes in rough shape).

It is in episode 3, at 21:00 in preparation for the cupcake/custard eating contest, that Gricko says he thinks he will need to do "the old popsicle trick" and basically asks Gideon to punch him in the face again to unhinge his jaw (thus referencing back to episode 1 and the mention of popsicles and getting socked in the face). And of course Gideon obliges.

It was then during my search, that I remembered you can pull up transcripts on YouTube in the description and I started searching each episode's transcript for popsicle.

In episode 20 when Gricko turns into an Orc and Twig silences him (So Mikey will stop interrupting lol). He slacks his jaw as part of the bit. Gideon tells Torbek this happens sometimes when Torbek questions if Gricko is having a stroke. Gideon says this usually happens "after you punch him in the face once" then further says during the continued convo "If I break his jaw he's gonna start selling popsicles".

SO, what I think happened is this joke is like a game of telephone. Frost said Gricko can't eat popsicles because he was punched in the jaw and lost his teeth, Gricko later refers to punching his jaw as the old popsicle trick, and many episodes down the line, Mace jumbles this up in his head somehow (unless I or Youtube's transcript missed something) and retold it as Gricko selling popsicles when he gets his jaw broken. So now the bit has become that Gricko sells popsicles when he has been maimed (particularly in the jaw) and I believe Mikey partly remembered the "I could really use a popsicle anywhere" and morphed it into "You can buy my popsicles anytime."

So the bit is also almost an inside joke, that doesn't make sense to the viewer if you can't recall all these connections. But as one of the players who has played this across many weeks, it makes sense because stuff has been misrecalled.

I spent too much time on this, I hope future viewers who are confused can find this post through searching and avoid what I have had to toil.

Buy my popsicles

Psst can anyone tell me where the Gricko bit "You can buy my Popsicles" comes from? I can't remember where/when it was introduced but it keeps getting referenced and I'm a bit lost. Was it when they got the otter popsicles at the carnival?

[gaiuswrites]

King of Cups || Chapter 1

Chapter 1: The Tower

Archive: ao3 | masterlist | two

Pairing: Din Djarin x fem!Reader

Summary: You’re apart of the Refugee Relief Movement, an intergalactic organization providing aid throughout the systems, and you find yourself assisting at a resettlement camp in Lothal when disaster strikes, changing your life forever, intertwining your path with that of a certain Mandalorian bounty hunter.

Word count: 3.7k~

Rated: Mature

Warnings: descriptive violence, blood/injury mentioning, danger, mature language

Notes: Hi y'all, welcome. This fic is going to be set during Season 2 of The Mandalorian, and will be what I like to call ‘canon adjacent’. ALSo, this chapter is very much so Reader focused, setting up the scene and the general pacing of the story, but naturally, Din will be more and more featured as things progress. I’m a sucker for backstory and a slow burn, so ye be warned. Please feel free to reach out to me. :) I’d love to hear from you lovely little beans. Be safe out there, friends.

Lothal was a planet all too familiar with occupation.

You remember seeing a quote somewhere that read ‘Look no further than Lothal if you want to see what happens when the Empire takes control of an entire world’; and although the Imperial chokehold had loosened when the Empire fell, the planet, even all these years later, still found itself gasping for breath. 

Off world migration from the Core Worlds had been popularized since the expansion of the Imperial government bureaucracy, which brought booming business opportunities for the fortunate few, but as the rich became richer, the poor grew poorer. The Lothalites were forced out of their homes, off their own lands—refugees on their own planet; forced to resettle and relocate with nothing but the clothes on their back and the possessions they could cram into their pockets. The only heirlooms passed on from generation to generation were that of poverty, tall tales of former splendor, and the greatest of ancestral traumas: disillusionment.

The truly desperate turned to crime, and what couldn’t be solved by back-dealings and blaster fire was managed with fear mongering and the bitter flair of xenophobia. There was always a species to blame, and it was always the one who seemed to be doing better off, no matter how slight the margin. 

Greed. Fear. Despair. These are the currencies in which the galaxy trades. 

And so it was then, and continued to be, cycle after cycle. History, always finding clever ways to repeat itself.

On bad days, pollution still loomed heavy over the atmosphere—remnants of the fires from the Imperial occupation still clinging on to Lothal’s weary bones. She had been stripped during that time; gutted and strung up by her feet to dangle from the Empire’s meat hook, exsanguinated slowly, drop by drop, until she had nothing left to give. Her resources and minerals and ore and water and seed, robbed. Pillaged.

She’s free from it now, but the scars remain— the planet remembers. Her people do not forget. Like muscle memory, they all ungulate to this synthesized rhythm they can’t seem to shake, day in and day out, wandering. Forever unsettled.

The planet had always had a diverse population and had become something of a safe haven for other abandoned people fleeing their home worlds, determined to find somewhere - anywhere - for them to survive. Lothal provided that for them. It wasn’t rich or bountiful by any stretch, but it was simple and safe—safe in the way hidden things in plain sight are. One could blend into the crowd of many, unique faces, of all races and backgrounds; you could be anonymous, if you wanted. You could be free.

That’s how you’ve found yourself here in Jortho. You had been with the Refugee Relief Movement for the better part of what felt like forever, and they had transferred you to this planet not six weeks ago. You were out on rotation; the RRM sends someone new twice a cycle for the span of a month or two to varying locations to supply rations, aid with the influx of refugees, organize resettlement lodgings, and generally be of assistance when and where you could. However, your tenure on this temperate planet was coming to a close, and soon you’d be flying back to the headquarters on Coruscant before being bounced to another post somewhere out among the stars. 

You love your job. You know it’s unpopular to say, but you do. It’s fulfilling and impactful and indescribably special. The individuals you meet, the stories you hear, they’re invaluable— priceless and precious, like handmade trinkets crafted by the fingers of a child; you press them all to your heart, holding them there. You’d be lying if you said it didn’t get to you— the weight of it; the plights of all of these people, all of these lives, burdening your conscience. It isn’t always painless— you aren’t immune to it. Even so, on most nights you manage to sleep easy, tucked away aboard the transport freighter you flew in on with the batch of settlers newly assimilated into town knowing Maker, at least you were doing something— anything— everything you could.

And really, to call Jortho a town would be an insult to all towns everywhere—but ‘town’ has a certain charm to it that ‘refugee camp’ simply did not, and it gave the people hope. Pride, even. That they belonged somewhere.

You suppose that’s all anyone wants. To belong. 

A feather soft gust of wind tickles the golden blades of prairie grass as the sun, bleary and tired, starts dipping from the sky. The crickbeets begin their song early, trilling, sensing Lothal’s moons still coyly tucked away, hiding somewhere along the horizon. A smile adorns your face, private and serene, as you bring a bowl of broth up to your lips, humming when the warm liquid meets your tongue. You sigh, contented, taking in the sights before you; how the dusk blurs the aromatic air, making it opaque, the shuttles docked across the way from you casting long purple shadows onto the flat plains, the snowcapped mountains in the distance bordering the cant of the planet’s surface, nestling Jortho in a shallow valley.

You feel calm, at peace, and take another sip.

An easy moment passes, and it’s the last one you get before silence stalks up from behind you.

You don’t notice it at first, like any patient predator, it goes undetected: the white noise, the nothingness— until finally, you do and then suddenly it’s everywhere. On top of you. Smothering you. Goosebumps stipple your skin and you bristle. The insects have stopped chirping. The breeze has stilled. The air hangs dead. 

And then—

Chaos.

You’re hit with a blast of crushing heat, the sheer power of it picking you up off your feet and onto your side, sending your body careening into a nearby structure. Your shoulder takes most of the blow, but your neck still snaps backwards unnaturally, the back of your head colliding with the stone wall behind you with a dull thwack. You let out a groaned cry at the impact, the wind knocked out of your lungs as you crumple to the ground.

For an instant, your vision goes white, stars popping and fusing out in front of your pupils, and it’s like you can feel everything and nothing all at once, hollow but overwhelmed, and all you want to do is close your eyes and drift asleep— Maker that would feel like a luxury, just right here on the damn dirt. And you almost do, you almost let yourself slip under and sink— until you hear a piercing scream from somewhere close. 

Immediately your eyes shoot open, desperately blinking away the blurriness that threatens to over take them, and you try pushing yourself up by the heels of your scraped hands, failing once - twice - before finding your footing. You’re shaky at first, uncoordinated and dizzy and redownloading bipedalism, before that sweet drug of adrenaline starts to course through your veins and finally, finally, you take in your surroundings. 

The ships that once stood across the field are gone, obliterated, and in their place only metal ribcages remain—empty carcasses like dead birds splayed on their backsides, imploded from the inside out, their bits strewn all around you. 

Your breathing comes hard and heavy, fighting down panic, and cloudy eyes search through the thick black smoke billowing up in stacks, trying to pin point the source of the scream you’d heard just moments ago. You cough a strained wheeze, sputtering against the charred air, and wade your way through the debris— it’s only then that you realize the magnitude of the explosion. It’s not just the landing bay, it’s half the kriffing village. The buildings that neighbored the airfield had been decimated, burning roofs and crumbling fixtures, homes collapsing onto themselves, scorch marks and shrapnel branding the outsides of the shanties left standing.

It looks like a battlefield. You’ve seen holovids of this—what war can look like, how it can ruin a people… But you’ve never had to stand in the middle of it, head on. 

Your heart drums against your chest as you break into a hobbled run, desperately scanning the area for any signs of life, up and down, left and right, straining against the waning daylight. It’s then that you hear your name, urgent and frantic, and you whip your head in it’s direction, knees nearly buckling in relief. You immediately recognize your friend Hareem, brandishing her arms at you, waving you over to her. 

“Thank the Maker, you’re alright!” the Balosar cries out, trembling hands finding purchase on your shoulders, bracing you. You don’t know if its for your benefit or her own, but either way you’re grateful for the grounding pressure; for the first time since the initial blast, you feel solid, like you won’t just float away, atomized and weightless. Worried, you look her over. A sliver of fresh scarlet blooms from her scalp, a small line trickling down past her temple, but she otherwise looks relatively unharmed. You grasp onto her wrist, squeezing firmly.

“What the hell happened?” You ask, voice low and pitched, wide fearful eyes drilling into her.

“T-There was a man-” And she shakes her head, mouth clamping shut, deep wrinkles framing her face.

“Hareem,” you reassure, giving her another squeeze. I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.

She tries again with a steadying inhale, “I-I saw him. A-a man. He had a device with him, and he set charges, and Maker I don’t know— I don’t know— it went off a-and he ran towards the center of town!” The Balosar is in hysterics, tears spilling down her dirty cheeks, and it takes your brain a moment to catch up, to wrap your mind around the words she’s stuttering out. 

A man. 

Device. 

Charges.

A bomb. This wasn’t an accident; this was an attack—and he’s still kriffing here. You cup her cheeks, thumbs rubbing against the pale skin, smearing away the blood that’s nearly dripped to her chin. Your friend’s gaze is flighty, everywhere and nowhere, and you try giving her a smile, but you’re not quite sure you manage it.

“Hareem? Hareem. Hey, shh, you’re okay. You’re alright…” You peel your eyes off her to glance around hurriedly. “We need to find cover.”

///

You’re holed up in one of the few remaining homes on this side of the encampment, crowded into the small space with three other survivors. All four of you, packed in and silent and petrified. Unsure of any further threat, you stay completely still. Helpless. Laying here, idle, for whatever awaits you behind that feeble, wooden door. You feel like prey for the wicked, just passing the time.

Minutes inch along like this—or maybe its hours; time moves eerily different when you’re attempting to become invisible—and eventually, you almost begin to relax.

Almost.

But a new sound breaks the din, hard to recognize at first, indistinct from all the commotion outside their hut, but you hear it. You all do. The youngest of you, a teenaged Devaronian, grips onto the hem of your shirt, knuckles creasing with anticipation. You tense, spine going rigid. Footsteps. They’re slow, guarded, but they’re getting closer. You bring an arm up, for all the good it’ll do, creating a human shield in front of the boy at your side. Closer. Someone behind you muffles a whimper. Closer. A Bardottan you hadn’t even met until today let’s out the faint whisper of a prayer, lips barely ghosting over the phrases. Closer- 

and then, nothing.

They’re here. You can sense him, see his shadow sweep across the gaps in the entryway. You all hold your breath, as if the air is being syphoned out of the space… And the door is flung open, nearly breaking off it’s hinges as it slams into the inside of the house, shuttering the rickety walls with a jarring bang. 

You don’t know who looks more astonished: you four, or the Mandalorian before you, dripping head to toe in silver plated armor, pointing a blaster directly at your head.

“Where is he?” He asks, hard edged and modulated, and it’s more of a demand than a question—but he lowers his weapon all the same, holstering it at his side. You gape at him, guppying wordlessly. “Volcur X’elo. The bomber. Where?” He hasn’t moved an inch out of the doorframe but he’s still managing to loom over you, completely filling up the archway, shoulders set and impossibly intimidating.

You gulp, finally finding your voice. “In town, i-in the center of town…” Kriff, you had not idea if that intel was good or not, but it’s all you think to say. Seeming satisfied with your answer he turns on his booted heel, cape whipping behind him, leaving just as soon as he arrived. The dust barely has time to settle as the door teeter’s on its hinge, its rusty squeaks filling the void in the Mandalorian’s wake.

“Fuck,” you hiss, exhaling a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, doubling forward, propping your palms up on your knees.

///

After deliberating it with your group, you all come to the agreement of braving it outside. Better to be out under the open sky than die under a concaving apartment, clambering over each other to get to the exit. After all this, at least your dignity was still partially in tact— normally, you reckon you’d chuckle dryly at that. But you don’t. 

Can’t. 

You lead the pack through the mazelike streets. The sights that once seemed so familiar after weeks of living here become like strangers to you, and you sleepwalk through Jortho, snaking down paths marred by rubble and fallen wreckage— you haven’t seen any bodies, but maybe that isn’t true. Maybe you’re just too scared to notice them. Maybe they’re there, hovering just outside of your peripherals, haunting the corners of your vision… 

You keep your head fixed forward, jaw clenched.

Your feet move on their own like this, only vaguely aware that the red-skinned boy still hadn’t let go of your tunic. You forge on. Have to. You have to. Your only purpose on this kriffing planet was to help these people, to bring them aid, and if that means simply planting one foot in front of the other, then so be it. You take side alleys, double backing here and there, ducking under canopies, looping around yourself, only stopping when you catch a glimpse of beskar, the orange setting sun glinting off the surface of his helmet.

And he’s not alone.

You freeze suddenly, as do the rest, and the Devaronian bumps into you, stumbling under his lanky legs. Some paces in front of you, the bounty hunter has the other man, this Volcur X’elo, by a punishing grip on his shoulders, shoving him forcefully out in front of him; his wrists are bound and he’s fitful without the stabilization of his arms, his feet staccatoed and flailing wildly beneath him as the Mandalorian marches him forward. 

The wind shifts, and on it you can hear the bomber rant madly, only catching snippets of the vile nonsense that spews from him.“- like swine, they are a plague to the system! And they must be purged from this planet, and the next, and the next— every last filthy one!” You spare a glance to Hareem, to find her watching the scene in hypnotized horror, but your eyes snap back at the sound of something maniacal, drawing your attention. It’s laughter. The zealot begins to laugh a twisted, mocking cry that makes you want to vomit. “You might have me in binders Mandalorian, but you’re too late. You’re too late. This isn’t over!” He’s practically giggling, gleeful and demented. Disturbed. “You’ve only found one.”

Your blood runs cold. 

Only one? Oneoneoneone, one what-

The realization hits you with a punch to your gut. He’s only detonated one of his bombs. Somewhere, nearby, there must be another.

Without another word, the Mandalorian whips the smaller man around, pulling him sharply by his collar to collide with his breastplate, completely dwarfing him with his beskar frame. “Where is it, X’elo?” Nothing. Only laughter. High pitched, terrible roars. He tries again, patience ebbing. “The bomb. Now.” X’elo’s head tilts back and he howls another crowing shriek, keeping private his own sick joke, as if clutching a secret to his chest with slimy hands. 

The bounty hunter had heard enough. He clearly wasn’t getting anything more out of him, and with a quick strike, he rears his blaster and pistol whips the terrorist with it. The body drops. Volcur X’elo crumples, unconscious, blood streaming from where he was struck. You hear the Bardottan behind you stifle a cry with her fist. 

And with that, Lothal’s sun disappears completely, stealing away the last of it’s light as it furls into itself, shrinking out of sight. The dark ushers a new wave of dread, creeping over Jortho like a miasma, poisoning the very air.

The Mandalorian wheels around, searching for his heading in the labyrinth of the town. Others have gathered now, poking their heads around corners, stealing glimpses through windows. He turns, his head on a swivel. “Where is your power generator?” he demands, addressing the small crowd, but you’re all too stunned to speak. “Anybody. Generator. Now.” There’s something new in his voice, something muddled, and it takes you a moment to interpret it. It’s desperation, you realize, tinny and deep through his vocoder, and with a surge of adrenaline you move forward, furthering yourself from your group. You swallow. “I-Its this way.” Upon hearing your voice, he spins around, his visor latching on to you, and with a nod you both set out. 

“Watch him,” the Mandalorian growls past his shoulder, stepping over the bounty’s limp body.

///

You’re still not really sure how he knew where it’d be, you wonder to yourself, gravel crunching under foot as you both trudge on, an eery quiet settling over them. You’d say it was a lucky hunch, but judging by the way the Mandalorian carries himself, you doubt luck had much to do with it. 

You had led him to the power generator hub on the other side of the sad excuse for a city, traveling in tense silence, and when you came upon that tall, bulky machine he sprang into action, circling it until he found what he was looking for. The bomb. You stood back, rooted there, and after some grunting and rewiring— or maybe he just hacked at it with a vibroblade, you had no idea; his wide frame engulfed his work and you couldn’t tell what he was up to, all you knew was that his methods proved successful— the man managed to disarm the second device. You had thought you noticed his shoulders release, slumping with relief, after the red flashing lights on the rudimentary interface flickered and then went dark.

And so here you are. The two of you, bathed in the bright light of Lothal’s twin moons, their bellies hanging full in the blue-black night, illuminating the trail of blood staining the dirt beneath your boots as the Mandalorian roughly drags the body by his ankle behind him— through the exploded rubble, through the fragmented lives of the people around you, already displaced and estranged. They’ll all have to move, you think, pack up their lives, or what little is left of them, and relocate. Again. The thought sinks in you like a stone, sobering you. 

Even with the weight of a fully grown man to lug, the bounty hunter is still a few long strides in front of you and your eyes are trained on the unconscious form, taking in the way his mouth lolls open like an animal, his hair matted with thick blood, eyes rolled back into his head. You’re talking out loud before you even realize it.

“How sick do you have to be,” you mumble, transfixed. Your voice, it’s not angry; no, shock has effectively robbed you of that— it’s not anger, but bewilderment. Quivering, broken bewilderment.

“H-How hoodwinked and warped you’d have to be, how disturbed... For you to think like that. To do all... all this...” 

“Hey,” his gruff voice shakes you from your trance, and you blink up at him, tearing your eyes off the body. “Focus,” he urges, and you can only nod dumbly back at him, suddenly feeling a ripple of nausea slither through you.

The ramp to his ship is lowering as they come upon it and you plant yourself at the base, feet seeming to stop on their own accord, and frankly you’re not really sure why you’ve even followed him this far in the first place— always a step behind him as he hauled his bounty all the way through the vestiges of Jortho, across the arid prairie to where he first touched down. Maybe it’s because you feel untethered, unmoored, and all of his steeled surety is like a lighthouse, a beacon, guiding you away from the rocks. 

He heaves X’elo up the ramp and you’re left standing there, staring unseeingly into the durasteel, becoming more and more aware of the ringing in your ears. The longer time passes, the more it’s as if you’re underwater, the background blurring into the foreground, sound gargled and far away. A high pitched buzz pinches your ear drums, and it takes you a moment to realize the Mandalorian is calling out to you, trying to get your attention.

“— Dala.”

Does he sound annoyed? Kriff, you think he might... If you had your wits about you, you might be able to recognize it. But as it stands, you don’t. You’re not here, not all of you. You’re splintered. Suspended.

“Hmm? Sorry, what..?” Your mouth is as dry as Jakku— parched desert tongue darting across your cracked lip, tasting soot and ash and something metallic. Brow furrowed, you touch a shaky finger to the flesh and when you pull it back, crimson red dots your skin. 

Oh, you think, numb. Huh. 

Your eyes skitter back up to the Mandalorian, towering over you, nearly at the apex of the incline, and his stance is broad and his fists are clenched. You’re almost positive he’s glaring down at you through his visor, and you don’t even know the man, can’t even see his damn face, but you can tell he’s peeved— Maker, just how long had you been ignoring him?

A scratched noise comes through his helmet’s vocoder and his next words are clipped, punctuated. “I said, do you have a way off this skug hole?”

[vtforpedro]

health update, long post - TWs in tags

I haven't made an update in a while because I am exhausted. more exhausted than I can say head is still bad. working with the new neuro and just last week he gave me the diagnosis of IIH I've been waiting for a year to happen c': because he's smart and knows everything has been ruled out and when I explain it feels like a bowling ball is sitting on the bridge of my nose during episodes and that my ears feel full, I have visual disturbances, I'm having trouble with memory/information processing, my nose pops lol that I am describing a fuck ton of pressure in my skull so I didn't have to do the lumbar puncture. wish the US would get caught up with the UK because they advise against LPs because they're DANGEROUS and doctors can use those extra years of school to make big brain decisions anyway. we're doing this thing of going up on one med at a time and over three weeks to reduce side effects because I am so sensitive to meds. going up on the med that treats the nerve pain I get from my brain being swollen from PRESSURE and pressing against the giant nerve on the side of my head lol taken three times a day so going up on dose more each week to get to the desired dose then I'll take the ~magic~ drug that is the only one prescribed to treat IIH by reducing the amount of spinal fluid surrounding your brain. really REALLY terrifies me because tons of people have to get off of it because of bad side effects and I'm already so sensitive 😭 but we're starting at a really low dose, half the usual starting dose, and also doing a three week thing to get to the desired dose if it doesn't help, he'll refer me to an IIH specialist at our big neuro hospital (my insurance might not let me see them though so I may have to go elsewhere but I was thinking why haven't they done that in the past year when he said it 🙃) and also probably a migraine specialist things are moving forward with that at least in remission from leukemia for 10 months as of last month and will be 12 in the first week of december!! my hematologist moved our appts out every six months c: so that's good. I got really lucky with it. still probably stuck in my apartment for another year because people can't get their shit together to put an end to covid. blood cancers can not only cause severe illness/death (and my labs are still abnormal even if the leukemia isn't detectable) but it could cause it to come out of remission with a vengeance so. can't be around people had to fight my apt complex just yesterday not to send maintenance in to change the fucking lightbulbs because I can't have people (who are apparently not required to wear masks anymore!!!!) who have been in countless other apts come into mine ha ha ha whole host of new GI problems tho!!!! so that's been fun. can't find a reason for it either so I'm not sure what my GI is gonna. do about it. I've had the double scope procedure, multiple abdominal ultrasounds and CT scans and now a good amount of labs with nothing that explains why I get some severe pain and constipation. haven't been constipated this entire year cause of my diet and it just started one day despite no changes. really frustrating I had a pain about a week ago so bad I could barely walk. it was low enough that I don't know if it was GI or reproductive system but it's been not great with pain saw an OBGYN yesterday for a pap smear. kinda still concerned about le lady parts but she said everything looked fine at least probably gonna get off birth control after we see how I do on the IIH med so we can determine where side effects, if any, are coming from. she said I will likely see positive benefits and both her and neuro agreed it might help my migraines weight loss has kind of stopped. right at 40lbs too. it's been so frustrating and I've tried to change up the foods I'm eating but it's just not happening. I absolutely need to lose more weight for the IIH so idk what to do. can't exercise at all. can barely move around to go to appointments and I barely make it through all the stuff I have to do after we're thinking I may need a

shower chair soon. it'll help but it also sucks that I need one at all. makes me sad, especially for the next reason! I woke up this morning to see that disability denied my claim. even after everything I gave her. I was expecting this, but still hoping for good news because of *gestures broadly* all of this, plus my neuropsych and psych both diagnosing me with severe depression and ptsd lmao so I'm kind of. really fucking down right now it could take two years before I have a hearing with a judge after appealing. I can only hope the lawyer I spoke to in april sticks to his word and takes my case on my age is working against me but I've had a history of depression/anxiety since I was 10 and started to be treated then too anyway this is getting really long. I've had so many appointments already this month and it's exhausting. it's exhausting having to deal with doctors who are as shitty as ever and it's exhausting having to come home and do covid procedure/shower and it's exhausting having to be worried about getting covid from medical professionals who are not nearly as careful as they should be I can't count how many times they've asked me or suggested I take off my masks lol this phlebotomist tried to kill me last week (I may be exaggerating) and had to get help despite my excellent veins that even while dehydrated give quick/good blood and the guy she had to call in to help told me I could take off my masks b/c that helps him with anxiety attacks I got an 'anxiety attack' because not only did she keep moving the needle in my arm over and over and over again but she gripped it so hard it was causing me 10/10 pain I CAN STILL FEEL THE BRUISE but she kept doing it after I was telling her it hurt very badly so I got super woozy and had to lie down lmao and then she missed my vein in my hand. when I had one tiny tube left out of SEVEN. he got it instantly and quickly I'm tired of these people!!!!! I'm tired of shit luck and shitty medical professionals I'm tired tired tired of it had three appts with the psychologist and it didn't work out cause he was a man in the end. but I have an intake appointment with a therapist today to get an official therapist and I'm crossing my fingers. I need an actual trauma therapist and a woman who will not likely laugh and say we need to work on my 'taste in men' like they weren't the ones to choose to abuse me my father and brother the longest??????? so lol wonderful thing to say but w/e. men being men my neuro wants an mri done in late dec/early jan and while I'm extremely...... extreeeemely......... tired of medical imaging, it'll probably be my last one unless something goes very wrong for like six months I cannot tell y'all how tired I am of all of this. they hand out labs and imaging orders like candy to likely avoid malpractice without a care or thought to the patient's time and money depression is bad right now. I'm just tired of all of this ANYWAY! even longer now I had to get a pill case cause my memory is getting so awful I will forget if I took my medicine or not within minutes of the time I need to and it's about 50/50 I think so I am either missing or doubling doses and yeah. I feel old. but it's rainbow-colored at least 😂 hope you're all doing well and staying safe. crazy world we live in and I hope it calms down eventually as far as the plague goes love you all very much. thanks for being so supportive and thank you ahead of time for any replies. I'm terrible at getting back to you all when I shouldn't be. I lack the spoons sometimes

[crescentsteel]

Imagination

plot: Halloween with Kiyoomi Sakusa genre: fluff, crack  warnings: sorta creepy wc: 6.3k (went a bit overboard sorry lol)

A/N: - This is collab from our server @babythotshq. See others spoofy stories from our server here.   - I’m posting another halloween fic later, sum Semi fluff. lmk if u wanna be tagged - Thank you so much @newfriendjen for the betaread and @aomineavenue for that idea u gave me ehe - Sakusa brainrot

Nothing beats the spirit of Halloween, the best holiday ever invented. Ghost stories, people in costumes, haunted houses, scary movies, everything about this holiday — you love and welcome them all. Last year, your Halloween adventure was you and your friends trying to make a documentary (actually it was just you hogging the camera and tripping your friends that you’re seeing apparitions) in an abandoned building.

But the highlight of that Halloween wasn’t that. It was meeting Sakusa. Albeit how sweet that sounds, the whole of it was honestly ridiculous. 

A year ago, you and your coworkers agreed to join the Halloween party at the club near your office. You drew lots on what will be the theme of each person’s costume in the office. The person whose costume fits their theme the most gets a prize. When you got “something unexpected” at the draw, you were thrilled at all the possibilities your imagination could think of. 

But then work fucked you up until you barely had any time left. You only had less than 48 hours to come up with an award-winning costume. As you’re scrunching for your work deadlines, you look around for possible costume inspirations. And voila, your eyes landed on that certain object near your monitor. 

You laughed your head off when you pictured what you’d look like.  

At the club at the night of the Halloween party, it was expected to have most people in costume. No one gave anyone a second look for being all dressed up. 

Except for you.

When you entered the bar, people were staring. You made your way to your colleagues, uttering your excuse mes and sorrys to the people you bumped. Once your officemates saw you, they guffawed simultaneously. You were wearing white boots, surgical , a light blue long-sleeve top, and black short shorts. On top of the long-sleeve top and shorts was a white box hanging inches just below your thighs which made it look like a box dress. Printed on the front of the box dress was “GERMINATOR. Kill 99.9% germs” complete with its logo. At the back of it was the product’s information. It even had an improvised pump on your head. On your bare thighs was a holster holding sanitizers instead of guns. 

You twirled in front of your colleagues and they all gave you a round of applause.

You were so stressed out with work that you drank your heart out before the party even began to reach its peak. Your nearing drunk ass was letting loose when your back collided with someone and you nearly tripped. 

It was a guy with white streaks on his hair that was held up by gel or wax. He gasped as he took in your appearance. “Miss! Please come with me.” The guy didn’t really give you a choice when he grabbed your wrist and dragged your tipsy self to wherever. 

“Omi-kun! I brought you someone.” He said while he hid you behind him.

“Really, Bo-kun? You think he’d be interested in anyone from here?” You heard someone say despite the noise. The guy who just hauled you there moved away to reveal that certain someone, aka you. You went with the flow and gave them a curtsy while your vision started to sway a bit. 

You easily distinguished who he’s with since they’re all wearing the same yellow jacket. “What are you s’ppsed to be? A boy band or somethin?” you asked but no one answered.

You are met with different reactions. Two of them dropped their jaws. One had a wide smile on his face, obviously proud of finding you. Then, there was this guy you couldn’t make out because he was wearing a face mask. After recovering from their shock, the three men looked at the one who wore a face mask. 

The guy with white streaks turned to you and said, “I’m Bokuto,” referring to himself. “That’s Hinata,” he pointed out to the shortest guy in orange hair. “Miya, “ the blonde one said, then grabs the face masked-guy who has a stiff frown on his half-visible face. “And this,” he pushed the face-mask man in front of you, “is Sakusa.” Everyone looked so entertained and so amused, except for the one directly in front of you. But you don’t acknowledge the somber aura coming from him. You like being the source of entertainment, especially for this event. 

“Oh you unsanitary boys! You can call me,” you grab two sanitizers dramatically from your holster and pose like a sailor scout, except weirder. You couldn’t even tell how you exactly posed your arms in the air, you just let the alcohol do the work. As a finishing touch to the pose, you winked and announced, “Germinator-chan!!!”

At that, Miya spilled the drink he was about to take while Bokuto put his hands on his hips as they both laughed uncontrollably. Hinata walked beside …  what was his name again? You’ll just continue calling him face-mask man. “You look so cool, Germinator-chan!!” Hinata beamed at you while scanning your whole look. “We should’ve dressed up as well,” he added with a slight pout. 

Ah. Sakusa it was.  

Miya ,who was still laughing his heart out, put an arm around Sakusa, “My, my, Omi-kun,” he paused to chuckle, “We’ve found yer dream girl!” Sakusa tried to shrug Miya’s arm off of his shoulder. “Please don’t touch me.”

Bokuto came closer as well and spoke to Sakusa, “Are you still leaving? Germinator-chan can keep you clean.”

“Of course I’m still leaving. I shouldn’t even have come in this germ-infested place” he said and was about to saunter off towards the exit. Before he could even pass you by, you block his path and extend your arms. 

“Germ, you say? I got you,” you said while you poised your sanitizers in place, ready to give him some if he extends his hands to you. You find no shame in how flippant you seemed. This is what Halloween parties are all about. You, yourself, are having fun even if you don’t entirely grasp why they’re teasing the guy. He probably has a cold and wants to avoid too many people.

You weren’t expecting it, but Sakusa held out his hands. You thought he was just going to ignore your antics because he seemed annoyed. You heard him mumble something, but because of the music and his face mask, you didn’t hear it. 

“Sorry, what?!” 

He comes a bit closer, close enough for you to notice how he’s not as serious as he was before. More so, he looked pleased. Since half of his face is covered, all your attention went to his eyes, and at this proximity, you became aware how pretty they actually looked. Or maybe you’re already drunk and he’s just too close. 

“Thanks, miss,” he uttered softly. 

“BAHAHAHHAHAHAHA!! You’re perfect for each other!” Bokuto’s laugh drew your attention away from Sakusa. 

“Before you leave, Omi-san. Can we take pictures with you, Germinator-chan?” Hinata asks with his phone already on his hand. 

“Ah yes yes, Shoyo-kun. Clever idea.” The Miya guy said with a widespread grin on his face. Once again, they all gathered around Sakusa. You joined them with silly poses as they took several selfies with you. The three of them were obviously having fun while Sakusa’s expression was the same in all the photos. Even with the face mask, you could tell. He’s pissed. As soon as they put the phone down, he was on the move again. 

“Wait, Omi-kun!” Miya stopped him once more. Sakusa looked like a vein was gonna pop on his temple. Maybe you just imagined him being pleasant a while ago. 

“We’re letting ya leave, don’t worry.” Miya smirked prior to adding, “after ya take pictures with Germinator-chan.” You see Sakusa’s shoulders slump in defeat. But you didn’t feel bad for him at all. In fact, you also wanted to keep on teasing him. 

As they snap pictures, you kept on doing superhero poses with your costume. Sakusa’s impassiveness doesn’t bother you one bit. You kept on flailing around him while they took pictures. When they had their fill, they said their goodbyes as Sakusa walked away without even looking back.

“Byeee. Stay germ-free!” You half-shouted as he already gained some distance away from you and the three men. When he reached the exit, you felt someone tap your shoulder. You turned on your heel and saw Miya offering you a drink. “You, Germinator-chan, are fucking awesome.” The three boys wore big smiles on their faces which you reciprocated. You bowed as acknowledgment to the compliment and took the offered liquor. You gulped a significant amount before excusing yourself “Bye boyysss.” You head back to your coworkers, faltering on every step of the way.

Two days after that Halloween party, life went on. You regret drinking so much that night. You barfed like crazy when you got home and you had a massive hangover the morning after so you had to take the following day off. Since everyone in your office knew why you had to be absent the previous day, they made you do additional work that day.

You’re a Lifestyle writer, but the Sports department needed another person today. They weren’t able to do the interview for some players the week before so you’re needed to do the last set of interviews. You don’t really know anything Sports-related. They just gave you a list of the people you’re going to interview and the questionnaire for them to answer. The most you could do is follow up on their answers. You looked at the names to be interviewed. 

Shion Inunaki

Kiyoomi Sakusa

Shoyo Hinata

You don’t know why, but the names were awfully familiar. You shrugged it off. Maybe you just saw some articles about them from the Sports department. 

You arrived at the gymnasium and went straight to their manager, stating that you were scheduled there to interview some players for your magazine. You took your seat at the sides and waited. The first interview with Inunaki went smoothly. When you’re done with him, he called the next guy and got back to their practice. 

Upon seeing the next interviewee, you stare intently at him for he looked incredibly familiar, you just had to remember where you met him. Black, curly hair that framed his face nicely. Two moles located right above his right eyebrow. Sharp, serious eyes. But something’s off. Something at the back of your head knows that you’ve seen his face, but something’s amiss. 

Face mask. He wasn’t wearing his face mask. 

Sakusa. 

Drunken memories came rushing down to your sober mind. You even heard your frilly voice saying Germinator-chan!! 

You looked down and fixed your glasses as an attempt to hide your face. You cleared your throat and deepened your talking voice so that he wouldn’t perceive any resemblance you may have with what you looked like two nights ago. 

You started the interview and took down notes more keenly than you should, just so you wouldn’t meet his gaze. From your peripheral, you saw him trying to get a better look at your face. 

“Excuse me, have we met somewhere?” he said after answering a question from your list. You smile thriftly and shake your head. “I don’t think so.” He didn’t look convinced, but he didn’t press on.

‘Kami-sama, I swear to take care of myself and not contaminate my precious body with alcohol. Just let me go through this unnoticed. I’m begging you,’ you prayed silently.

Fortunately, the interview ended with Sakusa not figuring out who you were. When the last interviewee sat down, a pair of bright hazel eyes stared at you with glee. 

“GERMINATOR-CHAN!” Hinata yelled while pointing at you happily. It echoed in the whole gymnasium and how awfully lucky you were, everyone was on break. You felt everyone’s eyes on you. Not long after, you’re crowded by not only the four boys you met that fateful night, but everyone else in the team. 

“Wow. This is the Germinator-chan?” A player you didn’t know asked. 

Apparently, Miya shared the pictures to every single one on the team. Inunaki joined their fun and tapped the back of Sakusa. “Real nice, Sakusa-san!” You heard a familiar voice and found Miya beside Sakusa. “Well, well, Omi-kun. Her alter-ego’s real pretty.” The taunts were focused on Sakusa, but you felt like sinking on your seat that moment.

“Um!!” You got all their attention. “Sorry, but can I finish my interview with Hinata-kun first?” You smiled as professionally and as nice as you could. They all uttered light apologies and dispersed back on the court. You resumed with the interview as fast as you could. You thanked Hinata and their manager and semi-sprinted out of the court when you had the chance. No way you’re gonna get hounded by any MSBY member again. 

The exit was just a few steps away and finally, you can rest easy. You let out a breath of relief when you reached outside with no problem. 

“Germinator-chan.”

You yelp from the sudden voice behind you. You slowly turn around to confirm if it was who you thought it was. And behold, it really was Sakusa Kiyoomi. You twiddled with your fingers while thinking of what you should say. You didn’t want to apologize for your behavior the other night. You liked having fun and going crazy. You saw nothing wrong with that. You didn’t do anything inappropriate. It’s just that you didn’t think you’d see any of those men right when you’re working.

He walked towards you until you were face to face. Without his face mask, you end up staring at his whole profile that was partially hidden that night. He must’ve been really sick to want to cover such an attractive face.

“What brand of sanitizer did you use?” You blink twice from the confusion. “What?” you ask dumbfoundedly. “That night. The sanitizer you gave me felt nice. Did it have 70% isopropyl alcohol?” You couldn’t tell if he was just messing with you cause his face is dead serious. That’s when you figured it out.. The face mask, the early escape from the crowd, attention to disinfectant — he was a clean freak. 

“Umm. I-Uh.. I’m not really sure. I didn’t really check,” you said, then laughed nervously. 

“Do you want some recommendations?” 

“Huh?” You felt like an idiot for not fully grasping what he was talking about. If you weren’t staring so hard, you wouldn’t have noticed it, but something broke his stoic expression when his eyes averted your gaze for a second. He looked a bit unsure. 

“I can help you choose a good sanitizer...and stuff.”

The smile that broke in your face was wide and it hurt your cheeks. You’ve been asked out several times, but that. That was unlike any other you’ve ever heard. It was so weird. It was the kind of weird that appeared so charming to you.

You just had to go out with him. 

A year after that, you find yourself in his apartment to celebrate Halloween. Originally, you wanted to go to that Halloween party again, but no matter how much you pouted, begged, and pestered him, the answer was a big, fat no. 

This is your most-awaited holiday of the year. There’s no way you’re missing out on Halloween activities with him. So days prior to this, you brainstormed on what activities you could do with him.

Haunted House? Dirty.  Abandoned buildings? Dirtier.  Street Parties? Crowded. Ouija Board? You’re scared something will actually happen.  Zombie run? Dirty and crowded.

You almost gave up until you remembered your vast collection of untouched horror movies, documentaries, and series that you didn’t have the time to watch because of work. You instantly texted Sakusa if that was okay with him. 

Okay

You’ve never been so glad to read a four-lettered text after receiving a constant n-o, no to all your suggestions. Finally. FINALLY, you came up with something you two could do. 

Halloween weekend came and you both decided on Sakusa’s apartment to do the movie marathon. You keep shifting in your seat from excitement. Tonight, you get the opportunity to watch some of your hoarded horror pieces, and much better, you’re watching it with Sakusa. 

“Is there anything you’d like to watch in particular?” you ask him with your eyes still glued on the screen, browsing your bought movies. He moves closer to you and slouches so he can better see his options. 

If Sakusa will be honest, he’s not really a fan of horror. He doesn’t see the point of scaring oneself from something that is make-believe. So he’s not that enthusiastic about it.

But you were. 

If watching freakish movies makes you happy, then okay.  Out of all your ideas this year, this is the only one he can tolerate. He knows how dedicated you are in celebrating this event. Last year was already a solid proof of that.

“Don’t you get scared by watching that stuff?” He’s looking at you but your focus is on the screen as you scroll down. “I do. But that’s the point!” You squeal from excitement. He still can’t wrap his head around the whole concept, but he’s willing to indulge you. 

“Do you get scared by these?” you peel your eyes away from the TV and shift your attention to him. 

He shrugs indifferently. “Not really,”  was his answer even though he still hasn’t watched a full length horror film. He just couldn’t imagine how a fictional work could potentially frighten him. 

“Okay. Let’s go with something light since the night is still young,” you said, then clicked on some movie that he didn’t catch the title of. You huddled closer to him. You tuck your knees in and hug your legs as the movie starts. 

You’re so elated that you don’t notice the tug in the corner of his mouth as he studies your face. He asked you out on a whim because that day, he didn’t really have the time to think twice. He wasn’t sure if he’d see you again. If he’d been honest, he thought you were all over the place when he first saw you. He didn’t usually find that appealing, but he couldn’t deny that you looked so cute as Germinator-chan, especially with your eyes twinkling in glee as you offered him that sanitizer.

Even though asking you out wasn’t a well-thought of idea, he made the right decision. He didn’t need to match up to your outgoing personality. You never made him feel that he wasn’t enough or that he needed to be more than himself. He never felt pressured to make you happy because you already are with whatever he gives. You’re you and he’s him, yet your relationship is more than satisfactory for both of you.

You might have noticed him gaping at you since you suddenly turned to him and raised your  eyebrow. “What’re you staring for?” Your lips formed the cute smile he’s always adored. 

“Nothing,” he replied more quickly than he should. He takes in your smile for one good second before shifting his gaze to the screen. The movie starts with people going to the woods for their idea of fun.

‘Ew’ he thought to himself.

As the film progresses, it gets even worse. There are body parts getting dismembered. It’s so bad when someone’s arm was severed, blood splattered all over the place. He unconsciously grips your thigh to ground himself. You don’t notice this since you shrieked happily at the scene. You were even clapping your hands.

“Yeeess! Cut those arms, dude.” 

He couldn’t believe you found this fun. He couldn’t bear to look at the mutilated body parts, even if it was just on screen. He just looked away until he thought it was safe for his eyes again. That’s what he’ll do every time there’s a bloody clip.

After a while, you finally sense that his hand was clutching your thigh because of the gradual increase of force he unknowingly put behind it. 

“Kiyoomi?” You look at your boyfriend whose face is now drained of color. “Oh no. What’s wrong?!” Your full attention is now on him despite the film still rolling.

Your face is a pile of concern. A while ago, he was painfully uncomfortable in your choice of movie, but seeing your once cheery facade get all worried cause he couldn’t take the blood made him feel bad. You already adjusted your Halloween plans for him. He can at least try harder to get through this movie.

He gently shakes his head. “I’m okay. Don’t mind me. Let’s keep watching.” 

“Are you sure? I don’t want to do it if you’re not okay with it.” It was very like you to look out for him and adjust to him, even at your own expense. You’re easygoing, loud, fun, and everything he’s not - that included messy and clumsy. Despite that, you accepted his needs and boundaries without any qualms.

He removes his grip from your thigh and wraps his arm around you.

“I’m really fine, sweetheart.” 

Your face lights up at his endearment, completely melting away the worry you had a while ago. 

Now, he just needs to pin it on his mind that the thing isn’t real and he can survive the night. 

However, it proved to be more difficult than he imagined when the scenes keep getting messier, bloodier, and dirtier. He keeps on focusing on your entertained face to distract himself from the screams and the sound of blood splashing and gushing. 

From the short moments that he was able to glance at the screen, he can tell that the movie is reaching its climax already. He decided that he’s going to keep his eyes on the screen starting from now, just to fulfill your wish of him actually watching with you. 

A few minutes into it and he was starting to feel sick. He gets nauseous when someone's head is crushed by a rock. Unable to continue, he pulls you closer and leans his forehead on your shoulder with his eyes closed.

You immediately notice him wavering and quickly turn off the television. You cup his cheeks and brush away the curls blocking his face. He opens his eyes and looks at you weakly. 

“Sorry, we were almost done… but the blood was too much,” he confessed defeatedly. 

“No, no, no. I should’ve realized that it would make you uneasy.” You felt guilty for not figuring it out sooner. You’ve been with him for a year now. You should’ve put two and two together.

“Let’s do something else. What do you wanna do?” 

“We can watch another scary film. Just less blood.” He suggested a compromise. He won’t let you do all the adjusting this time. He’s getting fed up with himself being coddled by you all the time.

“Swear to me that you’ll let me know if it gets too much.” Your tone was serious. 

“I swear Germinator-chan,” he says monotonously but you catch the humor behind it. This is Sakusa afterall. Because you’re used to his non-expressive self, you’ve gotten used to the intricate details of how he conveys his emotion. 

You couldn’t help but smile while rolling your eyes back to the screen. You choose a more recent movie that’s a sequel to a very famous horror franchise you’ve been following. It was perfect because it was just plain creepy and scary without the gore. 

You make yourselves comfortable again. Around twenty minutes into the film, there's no one who’s body parts are missing from their bodies. You’ve been keeping an eye on him. Thankfully, it seems like he’s calmed down now that he’s leaning on the couch with the color back on his face. He looks focused on the movie that was playing. With that, you are able to relax and do the same.

The calm was short-lived though. This movie is quite distinct from the last one. The previous film was chaotic and fun (for you). Now, the room is drowning in ominous music as you wait for the next jumpscare to happen. But it doesn’t. It leaves you at the edge of your seat when you tortuously wait for it to come. The eerie background music stops without any sign of the demonic ghost showing up. You finally let out the breath you were holding in your chest. 

That is until you see something in the corner of the screen. It was hazy and it looks like it’s just part of the background. You fixate your eyes on the imagery while you feel a familiar dread rising in your throat. You want to make sure that it was nothing. You squeeze Sakusa’s knee while leaning a bit towards the screen to get a better look. 

When you find that you’re close enough, the screen completely turns black, but only for a millisecond. It pops back up to reveal the same background you were looking at earlier. Only now, the thing you were closely looking at was not there anymore. You don’t know what to expect as there’s only silence.

In a blink of an eye, the object of your focus was revealed. A woman’s face occupied the whole screen. She had blood-shot eyes wide as saucers accompanied by an inhuman grin that spread too wide, making her face look unholy. 

“SHIIIIITTTTTTTT!!!”

Your reflexes kick in. You use the hand you have on Sakusa’s knee to propel yourself and launch yourself to him. Both your hands find their way on his chest, clutching tight the fabric over it. You bury half your face on his chest and close your eyes. 

“Is she gone?” Before he even answers, you open one eye cautiously and peek at the screen to see if it was safe to look again. You see that the scene is cut to a crowd with mundane music. You exhale heavily. You loosen your grip on his shirt and look up to him with a sheepish smile.  

“I thought you’re used to this.” He remarks inquisitively while looking confused as to why you were so frightened when you were the one who suggested the horror marathon. 

“Do you watch this stuff when you’re alone?” He asked further.  

“Of course not. I live alone. I might not get any sleep if I watch some by myself.” You giggle. “And it’s more fun to watch with others.” You let go of your grip on him and go back to how you were previously sitting. 

The movie went on with several more screams from you. You begin to feel Sakusa tensing up. You notice how intense he’s leaning on the couch. It’s like he doesn’t want any space behind him from the way he pushed his back to the cushioned backrest and seized the armrest with his right limb. His other hand was holding yours rigidly. Like him, you also start to be agitated as the appearances of haunted apparitions become clearer and more frequent. 

It came to point that you were kneeling on the couch and had your arms around him. You have no control on how tight you were holding on to him. You’re pretty sure you were squishing his cheeks sometimes, but you don’t hear anything from him. He seems to be immersed in the story as well because you can feel him flinch and jerk at jumpscares. At the turning point of the movie, it was basically a screamfest held by you. 

Seems like you blew his ear off since he tugged you to sit back down. Still, he doesn’t say anything and encloses an arm around you instead. You respond accordingly and use his embrace as your cover. 

When the movie ends, you breathe a sigh of relief, which is followed by a laugh and an applause. 

“That was so good!” Your eyes are beaming brightly from satisfaction. “Right?” You turn to him to see his reaction. 

He has a faint smile on his face, then nods twice. “I didn’t expect you’d be that jumpy,” he said.  You scratch your head while laughing embarrassedly. When you settled down, you just found yourselves staring at each other. The thick restlessness from the scary film was gone, replaced by something intimately familiar to both of you. 

He makes the first move. He gently cups your cheek and lets it linger momentarily while his eyes shimmer with tenderness as they remain on yours. Some people, namely your coworkers, found it weird that someone like you is dating Sakusa. According to them, you’re a firecracker while he was a defective explosive that only lights up when playing volleyball. 

But they’re wrong. 

They just don’t know that this Sakusa in front of you exists. He has his own ways of letting you know how much he cares. They were quiet gestures that spoke loudly and exclusively for you. And yes, you are a chaotic bundle of energy, so there were many days that even you, yourself overwhelm yourself. But he gives you peace that nothing or no one else has provided you. 

So when he leans closer to capture your lips, you immediately melt to him. 

What started out as an affectionate kiss begins to heat up when he grabs your waist and pulls you closer. Then, he grazes his tongue on your lower lip before biting it gently. To hell with your coworkers. He’s nowhere near a defective explosive when he makes you burn up like this. 

You want to feel him more, so you take the lead and straddle him. You grind your hips against his crotch and cover his mouth with yours. You’re getting eager to touch his bare skin so you pull up his shirt which reveals his toned chest and abs that made you drool. Best perk of dating a pro athlete. You look down a bit to relish the sight of him topless. 

“Um. Can you tie your hair?”

“I washed my hair right before we watched. It’s clean.” You don’t look back at him and continue trailing your palm down on his abs.

“It’s not that.”

“Then what is it?” You still keep your eyes on his torso while biting your lips.

“You’re like the demon lady with your hair down like that when you look down.”

You snap your head back up and find him clearly avoiding looking at you. You try to imagine what he’s thinking - the demon lady on his lap and is about to do the nasty with him. You throw your head back and roar from laughter. 

“You have quite the imagination, you know that?” you tell him with your eyes still twinkling from amusement. 

“You looked like her for a minute,” he insisted. You click your tongue while shaking your head. “Too bad, Omi. I don’t have my hairtie with me.” You get off from his lap and sit beside him. “Let’s watch a documentary instead?” He only replies with a nod.

“Sorry.I tried, but I can’t unsee it.”

“It’s fine.” You giggle and kiss him on the cheek. “I don’t want you having nightmares of me as the demon lady.” 

You grab the remote and put on a ghost-sighting documentary while he puts on his shirt back. It fell flat compared to the other two that previously went on, but you did not change it. You gave it a chance. Maybe there’s something interesting about it.

….

Sakusa woke up with the TV already displaying its screen saver. Before he passed out, he recalls you were starting to get drowsy with your eyes hazy while leaning on his shoulder. He doesn’t remember when, but he must’ve fallen asleep.

Not realizing that there was no weight resting on him, he looked beside him.

You weren’t there. 

That was odd. If you moved to the bedroom, you would have woken him up. He blinks a few times to clear his vision before scanning the corners of this room from his seat. His only source of light was the one emanating from the screen, but that should be enough to get even just an outline of your figure.

But there was no sign of you, just the darkness engulfing the inanimate objects in the room. 

“Y/n?” He called out, but there was no response.

He grabs the remote and turns off the TV. On the slight chance that you are already in his bed, he walks to his bedroom.

The cool metal of the doorknob wakes his senses. He’s suddenly more wary of everything around him. Because he wanted to reduce the accumulation of dust in his place, he did not place any unnecessary object that can cause dirt. That made his place look spacious and wide. It was only now that he became aware of the vast empty spaces on his back.

Yet despite the seeming emptiness, it feels like something is occupying the place, lurking in the vacant arrays of his home. 

A sudden breeze grazes his nape. 

‘It’s nothing. It’s usually cold this time of the year.’ He told himself even though he could feel the chill creeping up on his spine. 

He hurriedly turns the doorknob and opens the door, only to reveal an empty bed and an empty room. You aren’t there. He’s about to shut the door when the curtains suddenly fly softly at its hems. Yeah. It’s definitely windier than usual.

He closes the door and moves towards the bathroom. The lights are off in it, but you sometimes don’t turn it on when you get up in the middle of the night to use the bathroom. You don’t like sudden bright lights. Although when you do that, you usually leave the door open. 

The bathroom door is shut. His hand was ready to knock when he saw a shadow from his peripheral. He wanted to ignore it, but his trained eye caught the figure. He harshly spun to see what it was. 

Nothing.

It was nothing. The deafening silence augmented the dread that was starting to consume his being. He can feel the tips of his fingers get colder, his skin prickling from goosebumps, his throat getting dryer.

“You’re just imagining things,” he uttered to himself to quell his nervousness. He enjoyed the movie earlier, but he didn’t think it would get in his head. 

He turns back around to the door and knocks three times. No answer. He knocks again, louder this time. Where the hell are you? It wasn’t like you to leave without saying anything.

He heads for the kitchen to get some water, hoping that it can erase the uneasiness on his mind and body. Then he’ll call your phone as a last resort.

When he makes his turn at the corner of the living room leading to the kitchen, his breath gets suspended in the air at the sight. 

A woman who’s looking down stood in front of him. He’s never seen something so sinister. Her black pupils occupy the whole of her eyes. Her hair is down and framed her face in a perfect V shape. 

“FUUUUUCCCCKKKKKKK!” His thick scream broke the stillness of his apartment while stumbling a few steps back. It was followed by the woman’s screechy wail as she looked up to him. 

“AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!”

Her hair falls a few inches away from her cheeks, giving him a clearer view of her face. It was not a haunted apparition. 

It was you!  

Now that he looks closely, your eyes were actually normal. It’s just that it was so dark and your eyelids were half closed so it seemed like your eyes were a complete block of black. 

When the two of you stopped exchanging screams, it was you who recovered first. He was still frozen in place with terrified eyes. “Oh Kiyoomi.” You put your arms around him and dipped your head on the crook of his neck. Your relieved heaving quickly bubbled into tittering as you realized how stupid you two must’ve seemed. 

You put a gentle hand on his face and looked at him. He’s still a bit shaken, but he meets your gaze. “I called for you. Why didn’t you answer?”

“I got a voice call from one of my editors so I was listening intently.”

“Why here?”

“I was getting water when I opened the message.”

“Were you in the living room just now?”

You frown at him. “No…. well actually, maybe? I was spaced out while walking when I realized I didn’t really get the water I came for. So I immediately went back to the kitchen.”

The breath he exhales is deep, but you feel his shoulders loosen up from it. “You didn’t even see that TV was already off and I wasn’t there anymore?” His tone was a bit irritated.

“I was preoccupied with what my editor said.” You pout. 

His demeanor softens up. He takes your hand off from his cheek and holds it tenderly.  “Let’s just get to bed already.” 

When you two lie down, you’re surprised that he’s spooning you. He never does. He doesn’t like your hair touching his face, even though you tell him that you’ve thoroughly cleaned it. Usually, you are the big spoon, which was weird because he’s way too huge for you, or you position yourself a bit lower so that your cheeks are on his chest and you aren’t obstructing his face.

“Next year, let’s go to that Halloween party instead. I’ll dress up in a PPE so no one touches me.“ He says in your ear while his arm snakes around your waist.

“Hmm. I dunno. I quite like this to be honest.” You hold the arm he has around you and snuggled closer. Yep. You’d rather have this.

Taglist:  @shinhiromi @elianetsantana @moonlightaangel @vicassa @shrimpypenis​ @sunshine-hina​ @isentsworld​ @kozupresh​ @humanitysbiggestsimp​ @omibaby​ @atsumubabe​ @sachirou-senpai​

[magalidragon]

fire on ice | a crackish Jonerys drabble

Soooo... @moggett reblogged this post and well I felt compelled to write a drabble for one of those prompts so I give you this crack fic-- a funeral home meet cute!

I give you....FIRE ON ICE!  And this is also partially @youwerenevermine‘s fault, lol, because we literally had same idea for one of the prompts.

“Thank you so much Mr. Snow.”

Jon nodded politely, solemnly, his gray eyes the perfect amount of sympathetic, sad, and he hoped the right amount of ‘normal’— lest people think him a total fucking creep—while he shook the hand of the Greatjon Umber, whose son Smalljon Umber had unfortunately encountered the wrong side of a chainsaw while out trimming trees.  

Greatjon began to go into a tale about his son—who by all accounts had been a horrible person—speaking like he was the second coming of Aegon the Conqueror for all his ‘talents’ and ‘successes.’  “Hmm,” he murmured, walking him slowly to the door.  “He sounds like quite a man your son, thank you Mr. Umber, we will speak later regarding tomorrow.”

“Of course, thank you again Mr. Snow.”

The door shut loudly behind him, Jon slumping against it, relieved.  He glanced at his cousin, who had emerged from the basement, shaking her chopped bob out of its messy little knot atop her head.  “He gone?” she demanded.

“Aye.”

“I had half a mind to sew his arm on backwards.”

Jon closed the doors to the viewing room where Smalljon rested in repose until tomorrow when he’d be taken to the Karstark’s castle for the final funeral and ultimate burial in the crypts, as was custom for the Northerners.  He clicked his tongue.  “Arya, be nice.”

“Remember when his wife died, and he squeezed my arse?”

“Aye, I remember.”

“Thought so.”  Arya checked her phone.  “Your beloved texted me.  We have another on the way.  This one fell from the Wall.  Ygritte said he’s a fucking mess.”

He made a face; he hated that she referred to his ex-girlfriend as his ‘beloved.’  “Will you stop calling her that?”

“She works for the morgue Jon, what were you thinking?”

“It’s hard to find women in this line of work.”  He heard the bell ringing on the other side of the old stone house that served as their place of business and home—the five-floor monstrosity he knew people in town referred to as ‘Castle Black.’  He did wear a lot of black.  Came with the territory.  He waved off Arya.  “Just make sure you finish up with Mr. Lannister before the end of the evening.”

“The rich dude who died on the shitter?  Yeah, no thanks, that’s all yours.”

“Do you want to take this one?  Where the fuck is Robb anyway?”  Robb was the master of this shit, not him.  He was better with the dead.

Arya walked away before he even could try to play ‘Dragon, Wolf, Lion’ with her or answer as to where her eldest brother happened to have gone off.  Guess it was all him.  He caught his reflection in one of the mirrors in the hallway, adjusting his black tie at his neck and raking fingers through his curls.  It did nothing to tamp them down. He schooled his expression, solemn, and pushed through the dark wooden doors from the funeral home side of the floor to the entry way.  He let them swing back and folded his hands in front of him.  

“Welcome to Three Wolves Funeral Home, may I help you?” he asked, voice gentle; you never knew who might be waiting to speak with you on this side of the building.  He’d been accused too often in Robb’s post-services discussions of being too cold.

The woman standing in a dark red dress with long black overcoat was not someone who appeared to be in mourning, but then you never really knew, some people were good at masking emotions.  Her silver hair was in an elegant, braided knot at the back of her head and she had large black sunglasses folded in her hands, gazing at the table with various brochures for caskets.  

She turned, blinking wide violet eyes at him, her lips crimson, face pale.  “Good afternoon,” she greeted him, eyebrow arching.  “I’m inquiring as to your crematory services.”

“For yourself?” he blurted, before he realized how it sounded.

She smirked, while he flushed, thrown off by her stunning beauty.  He tried to school his expression again; she could very well have been there for her husband, boyfriend, or other, he did not need to stumbling through this.  He wished Robb was there.  “That would be interesting, wouldn’t it?  Well, I can assure you I’m not here to burn myself alive, but you know…” She inspected her hand, a couple rings on them glittering gold.  She grinned up at him.  “I have heard stories my ancestors were immune to flame.”

His throat constricted.  “Apologies.  Can I help you?”

“Your crematory services?” she wondered again, walking by him and into the showroom, running a finger over an ebony casket.  

“Ah…I am afraid Three Wolves does not offer such services.  We can, however, assist with selecting one, urns, and preparing a memorial service.”  He wondered what she was doing; she was now leaning down to look underneath a massive white casket.  No one really cared what the underside looked like.  He gestured towards the office.  “We can speak in private, if you wish?”  

The woman shook her head.  “No I’m fine, thank you. ��Just doing a little bit of research.”

“For a relative?”  

“Something like that.”  She wore very high heels, which clicked loudly on the hardwood.  She glanced sideways; eyes shrewd.  “Are you one of the Three Wolves on your sign out front?”

“Yes, Jon Snow, I’m the mortician.”  It sounded so creepy like that, but it was the truth.  Robb handled the hand shaking, the business side.  Arya was their resident makeup artist—she could do wonders with faces practically taking them on and off—but he was the one who handled everything else.  

“Hmm, yes I heard of you.”  The woman offered her hand.  “Dany.”

“Jon,” he repeated, like an idiot.  He was put off by her beauty, rather disarming.  He swallowed hard again.  “Nice to meet you.  Is there…”

“This was enlightening Mr. Snow.  I’ll be back.”  Dany wiggled her fingers, waving, striding out decisively.  “See you later.”

What the seven hells was that about? He spun on his heel, about to ask her what else he could help her with, when the front door slammed shut, bell ringing on her exit.  He heard the door from the services wing open, Robb walking in.  He scowled.  “Where were you?”

“Talking with the Umbers, heard it went well, did we have a customer?” Robb adjusted his tie, eagerly seeing dollar signs.  “Where are they?”

“They left.”  

“Damnit Jon!”

He rolled his eyes, storming by.  “I’ll be downstairs.”

“With Tywin Lannister?  Better make him look good, the Lannisters are paying through the nose for this.”

“Aye,” he said idly, heading downstairs and to his ‘lair’ as Robb referred to it.  He shook his head, preparing in the locker room, putting on scrubs and his protective gear.  When he tugged on gloves, walking over to the block of freezer drawers, he rolled his eyes again, making another face.  He was better with dead people anyway.

-----

A couple of weeks later, Jon saw the beautiful silver-haired woman again, this time from the front step of the funeral home, while Arya sat on the railing, Robb in shocked horror as the sign went up across the street.  

Dracarys Funeral Home and Crematory Services

“How did this happen?  We had the run of things here!” Robb exclaimed.

Arya cracked her gum.  “Want me to get info?”

The silver haired Dany waved from the front step of her home.  “Hello Starks!”

Jon shook his head, appalled.  “I thought she was just asking because someone died…like they all do.”

“You didn’t think that she was scoping the competition?” Robb shouted.

“I told you I’m better with the dead than I am the living!”

“Oh leave him alone,” Arya chided.  She rubbed Ghost’s ears—his great white wolf—gazing across the street again, shrugging.  “Maybe we can make this work.  Jon, you were the one who met her, maybe you can get some more info.  They do crematory, we don’t.  Maybe we can make a deal or something.”

Robb nodded, poking his shoulder.  “Go over there, find out more.”

Jon sighed.  He really didn’t want to do this. “I have that Wall guy to deal with.”

“Jarl will keep, go find out more.”

He slid away from the column, clicking his tongue for Ghost to follow him, the two of them crossing the street and up to Dracarys.  He entered into the front room, seeing that everything was a shade of black and red.  He glanced at Ghost, who was scanning the space with his bright ruby eyes, white fluffy tail wagging slowly.  “What do you think?” he mumbled.

The walnut wood stairs creaked in the back, drawing him towards the door leading away from the showroom and sitting area.  He peeked into another part of the old house, just like how their business was set up, with a viewing room and seating area.  He moved to another door, which was open, leading down a set of stairs.  

A massive black cat yowled from a sunbeam near the door, hissing at Ghost and running off.  Ghost didn’t bark but took off after the cat.  He sighed, calling out.  “Please don’t kill her cat!”  

He went down the stairs and pushed open a set of swinging double doors, pausing at the sight.  It was state-of-the art and he scowled at some of the fancy equipment he’d been trying to convince Robb to upgrade to for the last year.  He ran his tongue over his teeth, arching a dark brow at the woman who had been wearing head-to-toe designer when he’d met her and now was in black scrubs and protective gear, leaning over a dead man, a kit of makeup and brushes next to her.  

“Jon Snow,” she called.

“Daenerys Targaryen.”  He used her full name.  The proprietress of the competition, he would not refer to her as Dany.  “You could have told me you were moving in across the street.”

“And you would have shown me around?  I think not.”  

He stepped closer, curious at what she was working on.  His eyebrows flew to his forehead.  “Greyscale, huh?”

“Hmm,” Dany murmured.  “Yes.”  She looked up, grinning.  “I saw you coming over, decided not to stop you from finding me.  You’re not squeamish.”

“No I’m not.”

“They call you the King of the Dead.”

It wasn’t the worst thing he’d been called.  “And you are?” he retorted.

“The Dragon Queen, I suppose you could call me.  Or at least, that’s what they called me at mortician school.”  She selected another brush, grinning.  “I’m offering a service that your busines does not Jon Snow, that’s all.”

“The North doesn’t burn their dead.”

“I know, but many in the South do.  There’s plenty of them moving up here.”  Dany stood and pushed the gurney with the greyscale man into the freezer, closing the door.  She removed her gloves and gear, walking by him, and began to wash up.  She tossed a serene smile over her shoulder.  “I think we can make this work Jon Snow.  Don’t worry about it.”

“Robb isn’t used to competition.”

“And you?”

He shrugged.  “I work better with the dead.”

“So do I.”  When she finished, she studied him for a few seconds, which unnerved him.  He tore his eyes from her, wondering what she was doing.  She approached him, hands on her hips.  “Would you like to get a cup of coffee?”

He frowned, nose wrinkling, surprised.  “Coffee?”

“A hot beverage, sometimes served with milk and sugar?  Other times with various accoutrements like cinnamon or chocolate?” Dany’s smile softened.  He saw then how gentle she actually was, how soft.  It was comforting and he wasn’t even grieving.  She must be very good at her job, he thought.  He was numb, unsure how best to reply.  She patted his arm, stepping by him.  “Come on, I’ve got a lovely blend from Braavos.”

In the kitchen on the third floor of her house, where he assumed, she lived, she prepared the coffee.  He wondered where Ghost had gone.  “This how you get all the competition?” he managed to get out.  “Ply them with coffee?”

“Just you.”  Dany sat down across from him at a small bistro table in a large bay window, with a beautiful view of the mountains in the distance.  She passed him the mug of coffee and used a small ceramic pitcher to pour milk into her coffee.  Lifting it to her lips, she smiled again, warm and eyes dancing.  “You intrigue me.”

He sipped his coffee—it was very good—a small smile on his lips.  “You are an interesting one, Dany…if that is your real name.”

“Only my friends can call me Dany,” she mouthed.  

“And we’re friends?”

“Well I hope we’re not enemies.”

Jon figured he’d have to wait it out and see for certain, but he didn’t think enemies was the best word for it.  He was not good at this sort of thing, so he chose to continue drinking his coffee.  He set the mug down on the table, sighing and cocking his head, a slight furrow to his brow.  “I’m not good at this.”

“I know,” Dany shrugged.  “But I am.”

Well that was that then, he figured, smiling at her.  

-----

“So where did you two meet?”

Jon wasn’t quite sure how to respond to that, as one of Sansa’s friends from King’s Landing had cornered him, trying to get info on Robb.  “Where did I meet…?” he echoed, playing dumb.

Margaery Tyrell frowned.  “Where did you meet Daenerys?  Sansa didn’t tell me.  In fact, she’s being really weird about things.  Won’t even tell me what Robb does for a living.”  Her eyes lit up.  “I like a challenge.”

“Um, well…”

His wife of the last two hours emerged at his side, looping her arm through his.  “We met at a funeral home,” she said, smiling at Margaery’s wide-eyed, horrified expression.  Dany gazed up at him, love shining from her beatific face.  “In fact, we contemplated holding the reception there, but figured everyone might think that a little weird.”  She smiled even wider.  “Also in the future, please keep the Fire on Ice Funereal Services in your thoughts for any funereal needs!”

Jon stifled a snort, glad to be rid of the odd questions.  He smiled down at his beloved.  “We didn’t actually consider the reception there or…did you?”

“No of course not, I don’t want to mix business and pleasure.”

“Isn’t that exactly what we did?”

“Nah, I came to scope out the competition and this really cute guy who couldn’t look me in the eye without blushing wandered in.”  Dany rose on her toes, pecking his cheek.  She patted her hand against his chest.  She beamed again.  “Best decision I ever made.  I could have sent Viserys.”

At the mention of her annoying older brother, Jon shivered.  He squeezed her close.  “Very well then.  Let’s at least try to figure out a better story, you’re scaring people.”

“Well it is the truth.”  

Jon shook his head, but smiled anyway, his arm around her and hers around him, both of them walking off into the crowd of guests.  He even thought that he overheard someone say the King of the Dead had found his queen.  He kissed her temple, sighing.  He certainly did.

THE END

[katara0524]

Impromptu Ramblings about the NEO:TWEWY Demo

In case y'all weren't aware, I've been a pretty big fan of TWEWY for a couple years now, and with the sequel coming out next month, the excitement I feel for this game is greater than ever :) I played the Demo for the first time yesterday, and following a couple views of some livestreams of others playing it, I felt like sharing my (very ramble-y) thoughts prior to the release of the full game. This post WILL contain spoilers for both TWEWY and NEO:TWEWY, so if you want to avoid those from now on, please block the tags: #twewy spoilers, #ntwewy spoilers, #neo twewy spoilers, #ntwewy, and #neo twewy ^_^ Oh, and if you wanna keep up with any other posts I make about my experience with this game, please refer to the tag "kat plays neo twewy" :)

-First things first: I have not watched the Final Trailer and I don't plan on doing so to avoid spoilers, especially after the pre-release era of KH3 where a lot of the later trailers spoiled a lot of the endgame content. That being said, I've seen some minor screenshots from the final trailer including what many believe to be characters from the original TWEWY, namely Shiki and Joshua. That is all I know about the Final Trailer and I would very much like to remain as blind as possible going into NEO :)

-The very first cutscene was quite ominous in the sense that this game is likely going to be about "changing fate" (a recently common theme in Squeenix games, which I do appreciate), perhaps leading off from the end of A New Day in the OG and trying to stop an Inversion of Shibuya. Also worth noting that A New Day had similar aspects in which the main character experienced "future visions" of tragic events, although in A New Day these events were not able to be changed, while in NEO it seems like one of the main "powers" our protagonist has is specifically to rewrite these events and avoid a "bad ending." Very interesting indeed!

-I really like the revamped comic book style dialogue scenes, it's much more fluid and modern, which is an excellent direction for the series to take!

-I would love to have an actual PokemonGO knockoff of Final Fantasy creatures, please Squeenix that would be incredibleeeeee

-Also the LINE stickers??? Are so cute???

-I would just like to point out that Fret is an absolute treasure throughout this entire demo, he's hilarious and I will protect him with my life

-UHHHH don't like that Fret picked up some Reaper Pins just out of nowhere.....or the fact that they're apparently popular all over Shibuya.............did y'all not learn anything from the OG game or what lmao

-Okay so when I first got the "curry or ramen" scene and heard NPCs talking about the new curry place replacing the old ramen place I became IMMENSELY distressed that Ramen Don was totally cut from the game because....well, Ramen Don is a King okay?? But I'm glad to learn that no, he didn't fall off the face of the earth, he's still in business and he's the one opening the curry restaurant lolol. PHEW, crisis averted!

-.....I don't like the sudden appearance of a Wall Reaper and being able to read NPC thoughts. Wtf happened when they left the ramen place??? Are they playing the Game alive somehow?

-Okay so I have my own theories about this "Swallow" character and what they're up to but considering this is only the Demo and I still Have No Idea What's Happening, I'm just gonna say that I think Swallow intentionally led Rindo and Fret to the Crossing so they could join the Game. I mean, add in the fact that Swallow still communicates with Rindo during the Game and you've got yourself a suspicious character right there lol

-"Hey they're shooting off fireworks!" Fret honey that's not fireworks oof (see also: "*laughs* I'm in danger")

-WOOOOOO way to traumatize Rindo right off the bat like that LMAOO

-The visuals for the intro are VERY GOOD, the song is pretty decent until it gets all "screamo" (which I absolutely cannot stand sorry lol)

-Shoka is every Customer Service employee ever and I respect that

-Susukichi went from being "meh" to "WOW THIS GUY IS FUN" in the span of 10 seconds and I also respect that (he is also built like an Absolute Unit which is hilarious)

-The Wall Reapers (and just Reapers in general) seem.....way nicer and more helpful this time around?? Like in the OG the Wall Reapers were SO RUDE gfhjgjdfkhn and yeah I'm sure we'll get some like that but the juxtaposition of the first Wall Reaper in the OG compared to the first one in NEO is insane.

-The puzzles are quite a bit more entertaining this time around even if it's generally the same "fetch quest" formula lol

-"Rindo's Group" way to go Fret HFKJDGHSDFKJ mans really left the default name in there lmao

-OKAYOKAYOKAY so to those who aren't aware I am a MASSIVE SIMP for Sho Minamimoto, he's my absolute favorite and I think about him daily. HIS INTRODUCTION IS. INCREDIBLE. I LOVE IT SM.

-GOD hearing him actually SPEAK FULL SENTENCES is just SO SURREAL I love this sm

-Also the remix of his theme???? NEO TRANSFORMATION????? IT'S SO GOOD????????? It's like gone from a Boss Theme to a more triumphant sounding theme and I am HERE for it (every version of Transformation is just INCREDIBLE and getting a new one is even better)

-I Love Him, Your Honor

-Also idk how exactly but it's kinda weird seeing Sho in the OG vs NEO, cuz while he's mostly the same Insane Math-Obsessed Catboy, he's.....calmed down quite a bit?? Like OG made a whole point of how poorly he cooperates with others (not to mention just being completely unhinged and trying to kill everyone), whereas here in NEO he's......actually kinda working with others??? HELLO???? Sir what happened to you and Neku during those 3 years I would love to know all about it

-I guarantee you Sho is still probably scheming shite and will likely pull some total insane BS later down the road, and I am very much looking forward to that. Also, is he looking for a certain Pin or something??? Cuz he keeps talking about different Pins and even mentions "this is just another Psych Pin" like he's actively looking for a Pin to do something with. Maybe it also has to do with the "latent powers of Players" thing he mentioned as well??? What is this dude UP TO oml (also is he in contact with Neku at all?? they're both technically fugitives at this point right?? WHAT HAPPENED AFTER A NEW DAY I AM BEGGING YOU)

-I seems like Sho ALSO has an idea of what's going on in this specific game (even if he won't admit it straightforward). Per his quote "The game's 142,857. Factor it out," he's essentially saying, "This game is a neverending cyle, figure out how to get out of it" (or at least that's what I got from his "cyclic number" nonsense lolol)

-I do like how Sho mostly stays out of sight until he's needed for a battle or assisting with a mission, that's kind of on par with his whole "uncooperative" quirk from the OG, plus he might literally have to stay out of sight of other Reapers and Players considering he's likely breaking the rules of the Game (not surprising considering him and Neku broke practically every rule in the book during OG)

-The nicknames for Sho- I can't- They're so FUNNYYYY GFHJSDFKJ

-He goes from being called "Pi-Face" and "Tabooty" in OG to "Mr. Minami" and "M-Teezy" in NEO LMAOO

-(Wowee I just realized I've been mostly talking about Sho oopsies sorry y'all, this is what I meant by thinking about him almost daily he is THAT much of a fav of mine ghfkjsd)

-Okay RIP Fret and Rindo for not getting literally ANY explanation as to how the Game works OOF, that is kinda cringe that whoever gets the Pin earns points, not whoever erases the Noise (which like I understand but also URRRGGHHH I WANNA SEE THE SQUAD SUCCEED)

-"I should be going home now it's getting late" Oh you sweet summer child-

-Also love the mention of parents in this game???? KH you could learn a thing or two from TWEWY (poor Rindo's mom fhgjkdh)

-KUBO IS HILARIOUS I SUPPORT HIM AND HIS GROSS FACE (also thank you Final Trailer thumbnail for spoiling my suspicions about him very cool smh)

-Kaie is a LAD I also support him, go King type those funky texts I believe in you

-FRET PLS STOP SCANNING FHGJKSDHKJFGHFKJ he's like me when I scan in OG during Weeks 2 and 3 and see Taboo Noise coming after me ghfjdshfj

-Also Rindo can you stay off your phone for TWO SECONDS ik you're trying to figure things out but Fret is a jelly boi and I don't want him to be upset with you my guy

-Sho being an actual sorta mentor to the kiddos?? Who are you sir this is so unlike you ghfgskj what happened to the guy who tried shooting children in the face 8 times over LMAO (granted he's probably just using them but it's still nice to see him actually cooperating and sharing knowledge with the kiddos aaaaa)

-EYO EIJI OJI THE TIKTOK INFLUENCER IS BACK LMAO

-hgjkfshgkjf "we aren't glorifying capitalism on my watch" THATS SO FUNNY TO ME GFHJFSDGHJKS (also an all-orange ensemble is disgusting you deserve jail for one thousand years fkn Cheddar Goldfish Cheezit ass woman)

-WICKED TWISTERS NAME DROP EYOOO we love to see it

-gfhsgjf Poor Rindo embarassing himself for the sake of the Game that's incredible

-R e t u r n t o M O N K E. That is all.

-Dialogue during boss battles is HELLA cool i love that

-HHHHH THE KANON SCENE MADE ME A N G E R Y FRET STOP SIMPING MY GUY says the girl with a Literal Simp Encyclopedia and simps for pixels on a screen daily

-Can't wait to see the other Reapers :eyes emoji:

-CAN'T WAIT TO SEE NAGI MY BELOVED YEAHHHH WOOOOOO AAAAND that's about it for the demo lolol, I absolutely CANNOT wait for next month, this game is gonna be INCREDIBLE holy hell Prepare for more simping, more screaming, and more vibing from Yours Truly :) I fully intend on sharing more general thoughts like this on both Tumblr and Twitter so it's not just reblog-retweet-reblog-retweet with the occasional comment fhgskjd

If you wanna witness my insanity up close and personal I have a Square Enix Discord server called Sea Side Dreamers! You can look it up on Disboard, or you can add me on Discord @Katara0524#9244 for a direct link :) We have topics about Kingdom Hearts, Final Fantasy, NieR, and ofc TWEWY (as well as other topics!), so if you want some good ol' chaos and chitchat, you're more than welcome to join!

[fallingsunflower]

BESTIES I'm so sorry - I hit my post limit waaaay earlier than expected! Some of y'all joined me on my backup account, (which I also hit the limit on lmao), but I'm back now.

I had over 400 asks to go through and I'll give you a warning that not all of them will appear (either because they were old or because they were topics we already answered). But here is a giant list of asks I compiled for you from when I wasn't allowed to post lol they don't really require my response but I found them entertaining to read. Hope you don't mind I've just put them all together in one post. It's also to save me from using up my 250 posts lol

"this is all so embarrassing like my god imagine when the promotion of the movie starts how horrible it will be for other people who made the movie too"

"SELL UR TICKETS TODAY WATCH THE MOVIE ILLEGALLY, next article we’ll be talking about these two assholes filing for bankruptcy. cheap harlots. don’t mess with your meal ticket."

"hate to say it but i defs think they‘ve got a sliver of the gp’s attention for five minutes"

"I am scanning through all these photos looking for just ONE where he looks like he's smiling and enjoying this. It's so crazy."

"I guess those are all the pics we’re getting right now. But I wouldn’t be surprised if they finish the Italy trip off with one more major Backgrid photo shoot."

"Olivia’s trending on Twitter but not Harry. Like it’s obvious who’s getting the PR gains here!"

"If they dont give us a 6 month or more break after this im gonna need them to pay for my therapy bills from now on bc of this damage no joke let me crawl back into my shit hole now 😑"

"The palce they at is referred to as “tuscanys best-kept secret”. Everyone point and laugh."

"she looks like she’s enjoying all of this. he looks like he wants to push her into the water."

"a few people said he’s keeping his shorts pulled up or covered in all the shots because of the Nike branding which they ask to not get photographed. What a setup."

"Man I knew the second those Tomdaya pics came out of them kissing and how they were trending so fast that HO were going to do something to 'top' them. Its pathetic /// FRRR. she probably hoped for the positive reactions that people gave tom & zendaya but unfortunately, miss girl got the opposite. when will they realize that nobody, but his fans, find them cute lmao can they just stop, it’s so embarrassing 😭😭😭"

"He really out here doing this with someone who almost old enough to be his mother, shiiiiiiiit. Sickening. Sick of these 2 for real now, i was fine with the good old blurry back content and whatnot but this? Crossing a line here nobody wanna see that shit and knowing how people feel goooooood damn."

"I aboslutely despise kendall for obvious reason but this one is actually worse than the hendall one bc you couldnt really see as much as now dis gos tang."

"She’s also wearing the cross necklace again. I feel like if that was so meaningful to her she wouldn’t risk loosing it in the ocean 🙄"

"guys have eyes on tmz. I Do not have tw now. they were so aggressive towards them"

"I'm sorry for Harry because you lost your damn mind bro"

"Now why the hendall pics are better ?? NO SHADE BUTT"

"I’m genuine confused like do they actually want dwd to flop or what? I just threw up in my mouth I sure as hell ain’t gonna watch their sorry ass movie. Is it supposed to flop? I’m so confused!"

"The match was not interesting enough so they cooked up something different especially since people were pointing out how they staged the PDA. And the page 6 article is out already!!!"

"Who the fuck thought this was a good idea"

"Is it just me or does harry's face looks really blank for someone out on a Romantic date with his alleged girlfriend.?"

"if thats it, harry hasn’t no game🤣🤣🤣🤣"

"so this is why the tabloids weren’t talking about the match pics! they didn’t have any value on their own. now with the yacht pics? my oh my they’re gonna get the clicks of their lives. her team was prob like “wait a sec we got something for y’all”"

"If they were models hired to act like a couple they wouldn't get the job......"

"Not them starring right at the camera in some of them help make it less obvious will you"

"HENDALL🤣🤣🤣is that uuuu"

"Harry’s ass crack thought it should make an appearance too."

"What a great day for team PR, happy Monday you guys! Let's pop the champagne 🍾🍾🍾🍾 P. S. They both need acting lessons, tbh"

"It’s quite interesting how everything that’s happened before I’ve seen predicted weeks/and in advance on blogs or fan accounts. Like his life has always been so predictable but damn"

"He was hiding the Nike check. That’s why his swim trucks are rolled up to an absurd degree even for him. He knew he was gonna get photographed."

"What I’m noticing is wether people like them together or not, everyone’s saying they’re aren’t a hot couple…there was more chemistry in the Kendall pics by far"

"i also find it weird that he’s not smiling in any of the pictures and it would be one thing if there were five pics from ten minutes of time but there are like 70 from an obvious extended period of time"

"It's interesting everyone involved is being Team Try Hard. Yet the universe says no. The last set of pics, Tom and Zendaya overshadowed. People even paid more attention to Angelina and the Weekend (even if business possibly). Fast forward to today and all this fakery only for Gwen/Blake to tie the knot. His team needs to get a clue. She needs to go. Harry needs to clean this up fast."

"Ok i looked at one hugging pic and one kidding pic and they could not look more stagged. It looks unatural ,strange and weird from all angles. You can clearly see from their body posture they are posing for a photographer from backgrid."

"Like I said in my ask a couple days ago the day we get kissing pics is the day that I believe this is all a stunt and I was right. They took a page out of hendall 2016 and it’s looks so forced and awkward. Hendall did it better cause at prater they had chemistry. They must be scared this movie is going to tank because they are pushing this way too hard"

"Real, PR, or whatever relationship it is, they’re fucking boring. You are on a yacht in Italy, can’t you have a little bit of fun? I can’t believe how boring they are, I just can’t. Even if it is just PR, can’t you make a fucking dumb joke so you can laugh or something? Do they have anything in common like to talk about or discuss or make fun of? I’d literally killed myself if I looked like that in a relationship. They are not communicating in any photos we’ve got. They are just walking, or sitting. Even when they hold hands or kiss or hug, they never communicate."

"okay but did ya’ll see the pic of her diving in?? i can’t stop laughing 😭😭😭😭"

"they look horrifically awkward i cannot believe what harry is doing"

"“HEY PAPS COME GET A PIC OF US KISSING TO MAKE OUR RELATIONSHIP MORE BELIEVABLE!!!!!”"

"his ass is hanging out and her bra is almost off what in the hell"

"Hqs on a yacht like that? Mhmhmhm hmmmmm / I bloody well hope that’s not the extend of their acting. That’s dire! 🤦‍♀️"

"this is literally the most predictable “couple” to exist. first, people talked about them showing up the game, and they did. second, people were just talking about kissing pics... AND THEY JUST CAME OUT LMAOOOOOO"

"annnnnnnnnnnnnd there it is. YOU KNOW THEY KNEW THERE WAS A CAMERA."

"ok but where’s the pda or did that get made up? cause these have to be the most awkward pics i’ve ever seen which makes me feel better 😂 also i can feel the meme’s coming with the one of her diving off the boat"

"I call it how I see it they are both assholes and full of shit. Like do your fake kiss somewhere else I do not want to see it!"

"Can they at least act like they’re having a good time?"

"hahahaha I can't stop laughing with that photo of O it's literally her knowing she's being photographed and diving into a professional swimmer style😭"

"the pics are so organic that Olivia is looking straight at the pap before kissing Harry."

"he looked a lot happier with kendall in their yacht pics compared to today’s. i know that was PR too, but he was very smiley and seemed talkative. with this girl it’s like the complete opposite lmao."

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 268: Please Don’t Tap on the Glass

Previously on BnHA: Dabi revealed his true identity to Hawks! His real name is actually [sound of semi truck horns blaring]. What’s that? You didn’t hear me? I said it’s [sound of dolphins chattering]. You really need to listen better. Anyway, so Dabi set Hawks on fire a bunch of times, and Hawks had some flashbacks indicating that Endeavor saved him when he was a small child, and just when it was starting to look like we might get our second tragic death chapter in a row, Tokoyami showed up to defend his mentor! Meanwhile in Jakku, Miruko remembered that even though kicking ass is fun and she’s really good at it, she still had a job to do, so she sped off toward Ujiko’s little hideaway, getting stabbed and impaled a bunch of times along the way and losing an ear and shit (I very much look forward to the cyberpunk robot-limbed Miruko 2.0 that we had better fucking get once this arc is over). Fortunately Endeavor showed up to help her out! Anyway, so absolutely no one was talking about this last week, but the chapter totally ended with Miruko about to bust open Tomura’s bacta tank with a badass roundhouse kick, so, uh. Shit might be about to go down you guys.

Today on BnHA: Shit does indeed go down, but at a very languid pace. Ujiko apparently built Tomura’s holding tank out of Nokia phones and kevlar, so even though Miruko gets a few good kicks in, she ultimately doesn’t do more than just crack it. So now the tank is just standing there leaking ominously while Ujiko sobs for no reason and we all ponder whether or not a 75%-charged Tomura will be any less doom-harbinging than the full-fledged deal. In the meantime we’ve got Girl Noumu thinking strategic thoughts and chucking acid at peeps; Crust still doing absolutely nothing; Endeavor not doing that much better to be honest; and Mic and Aizawa ready and raring to go kill the old man who turned their dead buddy into a sentient Einstein-Rosen bridge. Obviously I’m all in favor of this last bit, but I’m also on team “Mic and Aizawa not dying horribly” though, so. I do have some concerns here.

full disclosure, I’m very sleep-deprived for various reasons related to various things which can be broadly summed up as Just 2020 In General. so anyway, I’m dealing with it, but I’ve noticed that my rate of typos and errors and such has shot waaaaay up in this past week or so, so I’m just putting that out there that you may find some weird shit in this post! maybe I will write the same sentence maybe I will write the same sentence multiple times, or or the same word twice in a row by mistake, or use the completely wrong word. you are more than welcome to point this out and I will not take any offense and will indeed be grateful because I’ve apparently gone blind to it all! anyway so how are you I hope everyone is well

anyway! the chapter is early (god for all I know it’s been out for hours already. HOW FAR BEHIND AM I) so I’m recapping it early so that I will have more time to play Animal Crossing and fish and craft all of my troubles away. speaking of which Horikoshi, you had better not bring me any troubles this week, I am not in the mood do you hear

good fucking lord

is all of that Miruko’s blood??!? god, she’s even better at bleeding than everyone else. now hold up all you excited vampires, you all can get in line, I was here first

by the way Endeavor, I gave you a pass last week because your entrance was so fucking raw and you saved my girl’s life and that was really neat my man. but now that I’ve recovered from my shock and awe and am ready to be sarcastic once more, I just want to say... welcome to the party, guy. did you stop for drive-thru on your commute from the other side of the planet. were you simply not immune to the bizarre 5th dimensional time-stands-still effects of March 2020. are you curious at all how your son has changed during these past 20 years, and by “son” I am referring not to Dabi, but Shouto. are you looking forward to meeting all of Shouto’s children. are you excited to be a granddad. anyway thank you so fucking much for finally making your way down to this lair with all the speed and haste of a federal appeals process

and I see Crust is still fighting this guy after six decades

(ETA: I would be more upset about the scan quality here, but let’s face it, nobody actually cares about seeing this in HD. I’m sorry Crust.)

and we’re really expected to believe this is the very next ranked hero below Miruko. could it be that the hero ranking system is actually flawed. don’t tell me. I’m just as shocked as you are

seriously??

are we really going to stop and chat with Geriatric Hero: Crust over here. really. far be it from me to tell you how to do your job, Number One. but I’m just saying, I’m pretty sure he does still have... let’s just check... one... two... yep, two arms. not that I’m saying your system for prioritizing which of your fellow heroes to help out should be based off of the number of arms they have. but also I am saying that

OH SONNY BOY

is that a two-page panel of Aizawa Hatake Kakashi Shouta and his loyal husband Screaming Man leaping into the fray to take on some high end Noumus with their bad and sexy selves. I think that’s exactly what it is. are we blessed or are we blessed. Aizawa I’m pleased to see you haven’t aged a day and are looking just as fine as ever in this the year 2045

oh wow Endeavor I thought you had incinerated it

why wouldn’t you incinerate it. please incinerate it. did you not learn your lesson. please don’t start taking your cues from Dilly Dally Hero: Crust over here

oh wow

and yet Miruko was kicking all of their asses like they were made of plywood. really though guys. only number five. okay

Aizawa’s shouting that he wasn’t able to erase that last Noumu who was impaling Miruko because his vision was obstructed. that’s okay Aizawa, that’s why Endeavor is hopefully about to incinerate him

oh snap here we go

again, one has to wonder what kinds of interactions with rabbits Horikoshi has had in his troubled young life so as to influence his writing of Miruko’s quirk in such a way. did you at some point get rabbits confused with... I don’t even know. polar bears?! not that I’m fucking complaining holy shit

anyway, so just a friendly reminder that if Miruko dies here I will in fact push the button which triggers the hidden ejector seat built into Horikoshi’s office chair. he will be missed. but he had a good run

ho lyyyyyyy shit

so... Miruko I love you but... then why would you break the fucking vat apart with your moon-powered legs. Miruko. Miruko are you listening. oh shit she’s missing an ear I forgot. oh shit. oh shit

MIRUKO I LOVE YOU SO MUCH BUT WHY THE FUCK DIDN’T YOU JUST KICK THE BALD MAN IN THE LAB COAT INSTEAD goddammit well it’s been nice knowing y’all

well then. so this is happening. this is really happening. at least she saved us all from having to face the 100%-charged world-ending Tomura somewhere down the line. instead all we have to do is face the 74%-charged Tomura right fucking now. so that’s. ...I wonder how Tokoyami is doing

holy shit!

leave it to Girl Noumu to be the smart one. for a minute I thought maybe Ujiko had given her Ragdoll’s long-lost quirk. but then I realized that this isn’t a quirk at all, this is just her being smart and using her Big Noumu Brain. anyway so I’m preemptively sorry for having to root against you, Girl Noumu

so now she’s pondering how to disable Aizawa’s quirk. meanwhile I just remembered that we haven’t seen her quirk yet I think. please let it be something good

oh snap she ran away and made it out of Aizawa’s sight range oh fuck

the fuck is up with this thicc fucking Girl Noumu page I can’t tell wtf is going on

LOL OH SHIT

NOT TO WORRY GUYS SHE’S JUST SHOOTING BIG GIANT GLOBS OF ACID AT EVERYONE. can anyone tell if Endeavor has incinerated this Noumu yet down in the middle panel on the left. what is the fucking holdup

and now there’s a big double page of Miruko shattering Tomura’s Noumu Vat, and I can’t quite tell, but it looks like her eyes might be rolling back in a way which I decidedly do not like

(ETA: nah on closer inspection we’re good.)

didn’t she just do this like four pages ago. and how the hell did Tomura suddenly jump from 74% to 75% in like .2 seconds

oh thank god she’s still awake. but now she’s being dragged back now by the Noumu’s bone appendage things because Endeavor SERIOUSLY CANNOT GET HIS FUCKING ACT TOGETHER LONG ENOUGH TO FUCKING LIGHT ITS BRAIN TO ASHES ALREADY, LIKE SERIOUSLY THOUGH. WHAT HAPPENED TO ALL OF THAT TALK ABOUT THE IMPORTANCE OF BEING FAST AND THE DIFFERENCE A SPLIT SECOND MAKES

Miruko if we make it out of this alive, I’m promoting you to number one. Fatgum will be number two. the only two pro heroes in this arc who have actually impressed me at all. shame on the rest of you. shame

so now somehow or some way Miruko is being flung into Endeavor at the speed of light

I don’t understand this at all. did the Noumu retract those bone whips back into its body superfast while dragging Miruko back with them and somehow it managed to avoid being hit by her projectile body but Endeavor took the impact straight on. this doesn’t make any kind of sense to me with my admittedly rudimentary understanding of physics. but then again it is a fucking manga so I’m not about to call NASA and ask them if this could really happen. so this was a waste of a paragraph I guess!! my bad!!

swear to god this is like the fifth panel of Ujiko just screaming. please just stop. what do you have to be worried about anyway? although if Tomura suddenly went crazy upon awakening and just straight up killed you for no reason, that sure would be delightful! that wouldn’t happen, though. or would it

WHAT IS THIS FUCKING FISH TANK MADE OF

IS THIS A TUBE OF GLASS OR A FUCKING FALLOUT SHELTER

ENDEAVOR I’M GLAD YOU’RE CONCERNED ABOUT MIRUKO BECAUSE I AM TOO, AND ALSO IT’S ALWAYS NICE TO SEE THAT YOU DO HAVE A HEART, BUT ALSO MAYBE JUST LEAVE HER FOR NOW THOUGH, SERIOUSLY??

though on the other hand it’s already too late to stop this inevitable tide, so maybe at this point they should all just get the fuck out of there instead. at least Miruko did her fucking job and saved you all from having to face the invincible unstoppable version. that’ll be a real comfort to everyone when he’s out laying waste to the countryside, I’m sure. but still

-- oh no

the boys heard that. listen you guys, I want Ujiko to die as much as anyone, but I’m gonna need you to not go anywhere near Shigaraki fucking Tomura now or ever. please. do you hear me?? you two still have both of your ears goddammit I want some acknowledgement

-- NO!!!

(ETA: is that. a fucking Tomura dialogue bubble. something stirs in the east. a sleepless malice. the eyes of the enemy are moving.)

THE MANGA GIVETH AND THE MANGA TAKETH AWAY nooooo from 20 pages last week back down to the usual 17. I got spoiled. I expected too much. sob

so now we settle in to wait two weeks to see if Mic’s piercing tones can shatter this fucking adamantium tank like a wine glass. I’m not sure I’m ready for the Noumuraki Tomuracalpse you guys. then again by this point I’m braced for just about anything though so bring it

[ryttu3k]

could you post the ending where you side with the SI and Julian gets pissed off by your decision? I also noticed that Julian never really introduces himself to anyone or says a simple goodbye to the courier, like, ever. I mean even after ten years or so he just resumes the conversation as if nothing happened. Not even the courier calls him out on this. I wonder why that is lol

Heh, regarding Julian’s conversational patterns, there’s a really interesting post here on friendship degradation mechanisms with ADHD! And Julian absolutely has ADHD.

And for the SI ending, ooh, I haven't got that one written down. I do want it handy for reference, so time for a speedrun with my SI-affiliated Toreador! Here's all the dialogue from the SI attack onwards.

Before you can speak, Lettow jumps up.

"What?" Julian says.

Your phone chimes. You run, throwing yourself out the door just as the missile hits.

Fragments of stone and metal fly over your head. You get clear, reaching your Escalade, and look back at the blown-apart warehouse.

Flames are everywhere. Your Beast screams in wild terror and only the greatest exercise of Willpower keeps you under control, but your body shakes uncontrollably. You have only one clear thought—run! Still, you grit your teeth and force yourself to look around.

Only the vampires survived the blast, and they look badly hurt. Prince Lettow took a direct hit; his clothes hang in tatters, like a shroud, and his skin is blackened. Julian and his helmeted assistant, Z, are burned and stunned. Julian's servants are gone.

Hunters are inbound. You see Bearcats and Humvees, police cruisers and Buick Avenirs. The floodlights turn on, illuminating the burning warehouse and hiding almost a hundred hunters in the glare as they advance.

A bullet zips past your head as a hunter in militia gear opens fire. An FBI agent waves for him to stop—it looks like there are orders for you not to be harmed—but that's hardly a perfect defense. You duck behind the Sprinter van. It might be time to get out of here.

There's just one problem: Julian is standing between you and your Escalade, a karambit in both hands. He spins the little blades.

"You did this," he says. "You betrayed us all."

[The sight of so much fire means that you are now in a fear frenzy and cannot think clearly unless you focus your Willpower or escape.]

> "I tried to warn you! I told you we were monsters, and I told you I would stop you."

Another explosion obliterates the computer shop. Bricks and pieces of rebar rain down.

Julian screams and rushes you, quick as the wind. Then he breaks away before he gets into karambit range. Even as he moves, his silhouette breaks up, becoming a pixelated gray blur as he fades from sight and circles you, looking for a chance to strike.

> I need to talk him down. "You can still escape, Julian. Don't let them kill you here." [CHA/MAN+Persuasion]

"How could you do this?" Julian cries.

"To save people!" you say. "And I'm trying to save you. Run, before it's too late!"

He looks at the raging inferno all around him, the ruins of his project, then back at you. Then he fades away.

That's the last time you see him.

More gunfire arcs around you and hammers the Sprinter van. You duck, then get into your Escalade and get away from the burning warehouse.

So I thought that was it, but hey! Apparently Lettow wanted his say, too!

You slide into heavy traffic, scanning the late-night vehicles for signs of pursuit. No hunters, no cops. Good. You have a moment to think as you scan the streets.

Front, back, left, right. Nothing. If you breathed, you'd be breathing a little easier. You're just turning your thoughts to the next step of this desperate plan when a shadow passes over you.

You look up. Riga.

Then you crane your head out of your window.

Something like Riga, but with a wingspan like a light aircraft.

Lettow is following you, and it looks like he cares more about revenge for your "betrayal" than about preserving the Masquerade.

And here come the hunters: Buick SUVs close in on your location. Others are on a nearby bridge. They're tracking Lettow, trying to get close enough to open fire with rifles or even heavier munitions. You're not sure Donati cares about collateral damage anymore. The SI will blow holes in Tucson to take down its Prince.

This is it, you realize. The Eagle Prince plans to destroy you here and now. But with so many hunters around him, he'll only have one shot at you. If you can buy yourself a few seconds and slip out of his sight, he won't be able to try again.

But how?

> My supernaturally keen eyes will let me spot alleys, vacant lots, and other places where I can hide my SUV from Lettow. [Auspex]

You drive slowly, looking for little-used routes that Lettow won't be able to track from above.

Tucson is a low, flat city, but finally you spot a messy construction site next to a parking garage.

You turn hard, cutting off oncoming traffic and racing into the construction site as Lettow dives for you.

But just as you planned, he has to back off. Tarps cover most of the site, and he'd get tangled if he dove. You keep moving, weaving through narrow alleys, then blowing through a Chevron station—the covering over the pumps prevents Lettow from reaching you easily.

Then you reverse right into an unfinished apartment complex that you saw last week, going straight through the building itself.

And he's lost you.

You roll out with your lights off and look up. Lettow is on a nearby building, scanning the darkness with his golden eyes.

That's when the SI lights him up. Heedless that they're operating in the middle of Tucson, dozens of agents and soldiers open fire with rifles and truck-mounted weapons.

Lettow lurches in midair. But he's still an elder vampire. The huge eagle dives, scythes through a truck full of agents, killing five in a single pass, and then rises into the air, higher, higher, until he and Riga disappear into the clouds.

The last you see of Prince Lettow, he's flying east, away from Tucson, out of his fallen domain.

You disappear into traffic, getting away from the SI as quickly as you can.

An inescapable element of existing as a vampire is ignorance. The Masquerade is a shadow that swallows clarity and understanding. People suspect and imply, but they rarely know for certain.

Your final nights in Tucson are frightening but uninteresting. You check the news, divest from your real estate holdings, and listen to word on the street.

Over the next few nights, during which time the news reports a few strange acts of violence, a terrorist attack, and a zoo escape, you learn that Prince Lettow was almost certainly destroyed. Dove perished in a midday raid on her haven, and nothing remains of the Viper but a gutted heap.

The city's Kindred are scattered and leaderless, easy pickings for hunters that are now free to operate during the day, dragging vampires out of their havens and destroying them.

Despite the chaos in the shadow-world you inhabit, Tucson looks the same. The city's downtown is not ablaze, the national guard hasn't been mobilized. It's just another shadow-war for vampires to fight.

And it's time to leave.

Your plans to escape Tucson run into surprisingly little red tape as you sell your bungalow and liquidate your other assets.

You got what you could out of your deal with the SI, but now it's time to go.

Go where? Tucson never felt like home, but it was, at least, a base of operations. You can't just stick to the road forever; the highways are too dangerous right now, with the SI active and your bridges with the Camarilla burned. You see a few possible futures.

From what you hear, Seattle is a key city for the Camarilla's blood trade. You could head up north and, if you have enough venture capital, try to strike it rich, really establish yourself.

But maybe money isn't everything. Could you work with hunters to stop more Cainite depredations? From what you hear, Dallas/Fort Worth is now completely out of control, with open fighting in the streets among different vampire factions. If the SI trusts you enough, you could return there and try to protect humanity from the predators in their midst.

But you still feel the alien vitae inside of you: the 2100 Formula. You've heard that a scholar of the Blood dwells in Denver, someone who could answer a lot of your questions. With the briefcase full of Julian's Program research, you should be able to make inroads there. The only difficulty will be finding this scholar, and avoiding the hunters who suspect what kind of power you carry in your Blood. If you head for Denver, you'll have to hope that you've left the Masquerade intact enough here that you can reach Colorado without an army of hunters following you.

Finally…maybe you could just try to live a life. You're dead, of course, but you could try existing as a person, if only for a few years. You've heard that San Francisco is a good place for that sort of thing ever since the old Prince left for LA. Maybe you could cultivate your Humanity and try to live, instead of simply exist.

> I drive east to Dallas/Fort Worth. I'll use my Inquisition contacts to fight the vampires there. [Second Inquisition Hostility]

One month later...

Dallas is burning.

Not literally, not really. From your vantage atop this parking garage, you can't see any fires. But you know that the Inquisition has torn through the city, scattered its warring factions, dragged predators screaming into sunlight every day for the past two weeks. You know all this because you've commanded them from the shadows.

You finish your work tonight.

"We're the masters of this city," one of D'Espine's beautiful ghouls says through bloody teeth. "Even if you kill me, we'll always be here. Feeding and taking and ruling from the shadows. We are immortal! We—"

The other hunters have heard enough. They toss him off the roof and head to their van.

You get back in your SUV because your final target is on the move. D'Espine—the last Cainite of any real power in Dallas—has left the Cinderblock.

This is how you've succeeded in Dallas: not just through your network of hunters, but because you know how to move through a city. As the Cainites have crawled into their holes, believing themselves safe, you've never stopped moving, never stopped striking. And now you're almost done.

You roll out of the parking garage and point your Escalade at the Cinderblock. By tomorrow night you'll be done here, and you'll hit the road.

RIP Lettow and Dove. Julian did get out, though!

[asoftervirge]

Of “Love” & Murder - (12/13)

CHAPTER TITLE: Revenge, Like Chocolate, Can Be Both Bitter and Sweet

RATING: M PAIRINGS: P. Sanders/V. Sanders (main/one-sided); R. Sanders/V. Sanders (former); V. Sanders/L. Sanders (former); V. Sanders/D. Sanders (former); Remy/E. Picani (side); T. Sanders/OMC (mentioned)

CHAPTER WARNINGS/KINKS: Remus Sanders, mentions of Satanic symbolism, Ted Bundy/Jeffrey Dahmer/serial killer references, Rocky Horror Picture Show reference, Poison, Swearing, mentions of Janus Sanders, referenced Smut, Smutty Thoughts, mentions of Sex Toys, Thanatophobia (fear of dying), mentions of Previous Deaths, various Methods of Murder, mentions of Violence, Descriptions of Murder, brief mention of Prison Rape, Dumpster Diving, Eating/Eating Gross Food, talks of Grey Morality, Morally Grey Patton, Baking/Food mentions CHAPTER SUMMARY: Patton meets with Remus.

AUTHOR’S NOTE: Here we are! We’re now at the second to last chapter! Despite the low reception of this fic, I’m very happy with it and it’s been so much fun posting it and seeing everyone’s reactions to it. Fun fact: I’m not real sure what rating this chapter would be under. Obviously it has mature stuff because of Remus, but it’s not too extreme to where no body can read it. It’s not a murder chapter, but he does talk about murder, so maybe it’s best to leave it M rated. lol Happy All Hallow’s Eve, everyone! Have fun reading! xx Virge

INSPIRATION: This post by @phantomofthesanderssides

AO3 || Buy Me A Ko-Fi!

To say Patton was nervous was an extreme understatement.

He was pacing back and forth in an alleyway— the location where Remus wanted to meet— going between fiddling with the hem of his sweater, and twirling a stray curl of hair. Blue eyes frantically scanned the dingy place he was in, not wanting to suddenly be jumped by a dangerous stranger.

Brick walls were stained with something the confectioner didn’t want to know what. Droplets of water from the gutters above dropped down onto the cobblestone. Garbage cans were tipped over, rotting food and other things made the air smell putrid.

A black cat scurried from behind one and past his feet, meowing loudly.

Patton squeaked and flinched as it went by. After collecting himself, he started to fidget more.

He hoped Remus would be here soon. With every minute he was in this alley, he was growing more and more frightened.

Despite this, he tells himself that this is worth it.

For Roman.

For Logan.

For Dorian.

For himself.

In the midst of his self-panic and self-reassurances, Patton didn’t catch the sounds of the metal fence behind him being scaled upon.

“So, you’re Patton Hart, hmm?” A high-pitched, slightly screechy voice said.

Patton yelped and spun around, instantly being greeting with the sight of Remus.

The man looked completely different from Roman, it was almost hard to believe that they were brothers, let alone twins. While the former thespian was composed, elegant, and beautiful, Remus…was anything but.

He looked like a rebellious punk, to put it simply.

Remus’ hair was oily-looking, very unkempt and scrappy; dark brown, almost black in color with touches of green hair dye in it and a single streak of silver. He was clad in a leather biker vest, various patches decorating it, and a fishnet shirt underneath which displayed all of his bruises, cuts, and scabs. His pants almost reminded him of Virgil’s jeans: ripped yet his were baggy as opposed to tight-fitting. His ankle boots were spiked, decorated with an upside down cross and a symbol that looked to be very satanic.

As a matter of fact, all of his jewelry appeared to be just that: skulls and satanic symbols. They were predominantly pieces that littered his neck, but he was also studded with a lot of piercings: a labret plus a lip, multiple ear and eyebrow ones, a chained nose, and a belly button. And all of them were silver as opposed to the gold Roman used to wear.

Looking at him twice over, Remus seemed to be a combination of Roman, Remy, and Toby.

Patton quickly straightened himself up, not wanting the other man to see just how scared he was.

“And you must be Remus Duke,” he responded back. His voice shook a little as he spoke. “I have to say, and I hope you don’t think me rude, but you looking nothing like your brother.”

Remus snorts. “That’s a compliment.” He tells him. “I’d rather not be a goody-goody Abel like my brother was.” He looked Patton up and down, giving him a quirked expression, “Ain’t you a bit saccharine to get help from me? Shouldn’t you be getting ready for beddy-bye time?”

“No!” Patton yells stubbornly. He recoils and tries again. “I-I mean, no. I really, really need your help, Remus. This is the only way I can truly stop Virgil.”

“Ha ha! So you’re also Virgil’s newest boy toy!” Remus grinned manically. Patton squealed and shivered in disgust at that. “I swear he goes through boy toys faster than either Ted Bundy or Jeffrey Dahmer did with their victims. Well, not as fast, but—”

“C-Cut it out!” Patton shrieked, stomping his foot in childish anger. He grew sickened at the thought of a monstrous killer like Bundy or a twisted cannibal like Dahmer, and comparing Virgil to them just made it worse.

(It was in that moment when the confectioner remembered the words Dorian told him before he divulged into how he was murdered. While Virgil was a horrible individual, he was nothing like how those men were. They were all criminals, yes, but the widower was somehow of a lesser evil.)

Trying to relax his shoulders, Patton asked again. “Are you going to help me or not?”

Still grinning, Remus jumped off the fence and onto the cobblestone. It wasn’t pleasant sounding as he fell flat on his ass. But he appeared to be okay as he shot straight into the air and began fishing through his pockets, humming Touch-a , Touch-a, Touch-a Touch Me under his breath while he searched.

“Ha ha!” he exclaimed when he finally found what it was he was looking for. He pulled out a vial of sinister-looking liquid, skull and crossbones marked on the front of it.

Poison.

Cyanide, to be more specific.

“This should be the very thing that’ll fuck Virgy-poo up!” Remus exclaimed happily. Then he pouted. “Lucky bastard,” he mumbled. “Just put this in whatever it is you’re gonna give him and watch with glee as he chokes and dies! Ooh, that sounds fun! Can I come and watch too?!”

“No!”

Remus pouted more, actually looking sad.

Patton was about to walk over and grab the vial but Remus stopped him.

“Not so fast, Mr. Fluffy Butthole.” Patton scrunched his nose. A serious look was in Remus's emerald green eyes. “Why do I have the stinky feeling this is for more than just my brother?”

The confectioner reeled back. “…What?”

“You wouldn’t have gotten my number from Toby and call me by saying ‘how would you feel about helping me avenge your brother’ without wanting to do more.” Remus narrowed his gaze. “You wanna avenge Virgil’s other husbands too, don’t you? Spouses or whatever they were.”

Patton opened his mouth to try and say something, but all he could do was sigh and nod. “You’re right,” he finally tells him. “It’s for more than just your brother. It’s also for Virgil’s second spouse, Logan Oxford—”

“That author who seemed so stubborn xe had a stick up xyr butt? Man, xe needed to get laid.”

“…xe were asexual…”

“…Emotionally laid, then.”

“You mean having a loving, supportive relationship?”

Remus gagged. “Don’t be lewd!”

“Xe were also aromantic.”

“I could’ve helped with that!” Remus grinned. “But if xe were also asexual, then it would’ve been no dice. Hehe, dick ice, hehe!”

Patton ignored him and continued on from before. “— and his third, Dorian Cain—”

“Ah! The serpent-y lawyer whose tongue was for more than lying!” Remus grinned more. Since he was a little closer to him, Patton could see the yellow of his teeth. “I’ve heard that he and Virgil were a lot alike. Plus, they were really able to get” – he wriggled his hips – “it” – he started thrusting “on!”

The confectioner blinked, then sighed deeply and tiredly. How exactly was he Roman’s twin brother? (He could practically hear Roman sighing along with him).

“I was in cahoots with him, you know!” Remus tells him, still thrusting for some silly reason.

“So I’ve heard,” Patton tells him, not wanting to delve into details about the supernatural encounters he had. He didn’t need to give this guy the time of day. “They said you called him about wanting him to find evidence on Virgil, but he said no.”

“Yep!” Remus stopped mid-thrust and emphasized on the p. “He accused me of wanting to slander a celebrity, like everybody else did. But it was also because he didn’t want to put his own husband on trial or some other bullshit.”

He blinked then continued thrusting. “I wonder what would’ve happened if I got to him first?” he mumbled to himself in curiosity. He turned to Patton with a grin. “You think Virgil is great in bed? I would’ve given that lawyer the time of his life! We would’ve fuck for days and weeks on end using all the neat kinky toys I have! Plus, all the crazy flexible sex positions?!” He bobbed his head from side-to-side, singing. “Anyone Virgil could do, I could do better~!”

Apparently, Virgil did that and then some, Patton couldn’t help but think to himself, suddenly being reminded of how explicit Virgil and Dorian were. (If the lawyer were here, he’d probably be flattered and chuckle in his ear).

“But it’s more than them too!” the confectioner exclaims, continuing on from where he left off previously. “It’s for any other potential victim of Virgil’s…and me too…”

“Oh?!” This intrigued Remus as he now had Patton’s full attention. “How so?” He could see the confectioner tugging and fiddling with his sweater. Remus actually saw him doing this when he was stalking the alleyway. It must be a grounding mechanism for him or something, kind of like how he plays with his fingers.

“Because—because I’m scared of dying.”

Remus blinked. “You are?”

“Yes— Of course, I am!” Patton didn’t know why the other man was acting like dying isn’t something to be feared. Because, to him, especially in this circumstance, it was. “If I don’t do anything to stop Virgil, I’m scared I’m gonna die. And I don’t wanna die.”

Tears came to his eyes, he rubbed them away with a fist.

“I don’t want to end up like the others. I don’t want a ribbon around my neck, or arsenic in my belly, or a bullet in my head. I don’t want to have my life cut short by someone who might actually want me dead!”

Now he had both fists rubbing harshly at his cheeks. “There’s so much of my life I want to live. There was so much of their lives that they had yet to live. And I want to be able to avenge that…I want my friends, and even you, to be at ease knowing they finally found peace.”

Remus watched awkwardly as Patton cried in front of him. He wasn’t all that good with the emotional, cutesy, kind-wordsy stuff like his brother was. But if Roman was in this situation, he would know what to do better than anyone else.

He knew the moments when his brother would need a hug, and this would be one of them.

So, he stepped forward and wrapped his arms around Patton, letting him sob into his shoulder.

Patton curled further into him, not caring that he smelled of body odor and garlic.

“Hey, hey,” he murmured. “It’s okay. It’ll all be a-okay.”

The confectioner sniffled. “How do you know that?” he asked, voice thick with emotion.

“Because that mean, nasty Virgil’s gonna get what’s coming to him!” Remus tells him. He takes Patton’s tear-stained glasses and licked them clean. He then walked over to a garbage can and fished out a dirty napkin to wipe them with. “Here you go!”

Patton grimaced as he put his… ‘newly cleaned’ glasses back on.

“Even if Roman didn’t like me all that much, he was one of my favorite people,” Remus continues. “And I was incredibly upset when he was killed, or ‘committed suicide,’ as the police suspected.” He narrowed his eyes. “I wanted to bring Virgil to court, I really did, but there was no evidence left at the crime scene.”

Remus snarled; fists clenched together tightly. “When they told me that…I was thinking of contemplating murder myself.” He shook his head. “There were so many things I wanted to do to him.” He began counting on his fingers, “Disembowel him, let my pet rats feed on his body, flood my teeth with his spine, build a sandcastle out of his ashes. You name it, I wanted to do it.”

Patton got visibly sickened with each possible method of murder and violence.

“And yet I couldn’t do anything. I may be a wildcard, but Virgil is much more cunning. He’s slipperier than a bar of prison soap.” Patton dared not ask what he meant by that. “Plus, he might’ve expected that I would come and destroy him when I got the chance. So, there wasn’t anything I could do.”

“But you tried though,” the confectioner says. “Despite there not being evidence, you still went and contacted Dorian Cain to try and see what would happen.”

Remus nodded. “Well, yeah. I figured I might as well eat the bullet and chew until I’m forced to spit it out. And so, I called Dorian’s law firm and asked anyway. Even though I was told ‘no,’ something deep within my dick told me that he might try and do something in secret. When I saw in the papers that he had also killed himself, I thought my chances were ruined for good.”

“However,” he then held out the vial of poison for Patton to take. He could see just how dirty his fingers were: bruised, chewed-up fingernails, chipped black and green nail polish, and grime around the cuticles. “You can be the one to finish him off. Do what me and Dorian couldn’t, and put that murdering piece of shit in the ground where he belongs.”

At first, Patton seemed hesitant about taking it from him, but after everything he’s witnessed, everything he’s heard, everything he’s feared, his resolve was hardened.

He takes the vial and stuffs it in his pocket.

Standing closer to Remus, he can see the details he couldn’t see from afar: flakes of dandruff in his hair; messy, purple, smoky eyeshadow; black lipstick that was slightly smeared; a little bit of stubble growing above his lip; along with any other cuts, bruises, and scabs on his skin.

Not only that, he could see the various patches on his biker vest; only a small handful of them were satanic and anarchist symbols, while the rest were a mixture of things Remus must enjoy. A green sword with tentacles coming from it, a Morningstar, an anatomical heart, a bloodshot eyeball, a skeleton, a peach, a couple octopi and krakens, an alien, a peach, a hazardous symbol, some that involve cursing and parental advisory, some dark Disney ones, an opossum with he/him pronouns, the aromantic flag, and lastly, one that has ‘Duke’ on it in graffiti.

Despite his appearance, Patton might consider this gross man…not so much a friend, but an ally.

“…Remus?” Said man leans in closer, making Patton bend back. “…Thank you. Truly. I wouldn’t have been able to do any of this without your help.”

He waved nonchalantly. “Eh, don’t worry about it,” he tells him. He walks over to one of the garbage cans and starts rummaging through it once more. “It’s the least I can do. Being an assistant— heh, ass-istant— is better than being forced to sit back and do nothing.” He pulls out a rotting banana, unpeeling it and then taking a bit bite out of it.

Patton looked like he was going to throw up.

Mid-chew, he looked back at the confectioner. “You know,” he mumbled, browning banana flying out of his mouth. “For someone who looks all pure and morally righteous, you gotta little bit of grey in ya.”

“I’m only doing this for good.”

“Maybe,” Remus gulps loudly then takes another huge bite. “But you’re still planning on killing him. No matter how you justify it, redrum is redrum.”

“Redrum?”

“Murder. The Shining. Stephen King.”

Patton hummed.

“Seriously though, who am I to talk morals schmorals to you? Good and bad is all made up nonsense!” Another loud gulp, another big bite. “So! When are you gonna do the do?”

“You mean do the deed?”

“Same thing!”

“Tomorrow.”

“Ooh! On Halloween night too!” Remus grinned excitedly. Patton had honestly forgotten that it would be Halloween, having been so preoccupied with everything has was going on at 613 Rue Morgue. “Are you suuure I can’t come with you?”

“I’m sure, Remus. Thank you.”

Remus pouts again, but he quickly shrugged it off.

“Ah well,” he drops the banana peel at his feet. Litter bug. He started to scale up the fence, allowing Patton to see the large green kraken that covered his back. “I guess I’ll leave the rest to you. Good luck, Patton!”

With a gleeful wave, Remus jumps over and disappears into the shadows from whence he came.

Patton stays in his spot for the longest time.

Maybe…he was a bit grayer than he realized. Through his entire life, he was never really challenged on his morals. He always played by the rules and laws of life, not wanting to face the punishments for having done something wrong.

But now, he was.

He was faced with someone who had a complete disregard for them and is walking a free man with three murders (maybe even more) stained on his hands.

And here he was, wanting to change all of that.

Like he said to Remus, it was for a good cause: to have their spirits be appeased and to have Virgil never commit any heinous crimes ever again. Even if the solution was a permanent one.

Maybe…the other man was right. Maybe…good and bad really is made up nonsense.

With the thoughts of his newly-placed morals in his head, Patton finally left the alleyway.

The alleyway that Remus chose was in the lower part of town, the shadier and troublemaking part to be specific. And even though Patton could have chosen to take his car, he walked since he lived close by in the lower regions of downtown.

It was a long but much needed walk for the confectioner to take.

While the air proved to be chilly, the autumn leaves dropped down onto the ground, creating a little ombre of colors on the sidewalk. The night sky was a trifecta of rich purples, deep blues, and cool blacks. Dots of white twinkled above, making the picturesque scene complete.

Patton looked around at all the holiday decorations that were on display. All of the ghosts, witches, scarecrows, and grim reapers all gave him a bit of a fright. The fake tombstones and giant rope spider webs made him squeak and turn his head for a split second. But he smiled at seeing the differently carved jack-o-lanterns— some more intricate than others— and the outdoor lights that glowed in various colors, like orange, purple, green, blue, red, white, and black. Though what really got a giggle out of him, were the inflatables that stood on each lawn; some were of pumpkins, others were black cats, and was the occasional spooky tree.

Many people love going all out on Halloween, and the confectioner was one of them, having spent so many hours throughout September and October transforming the interior of his shop.

He continued walking into downtown, fog hovering over the street lamps as the air grew a little denser and colder. The streets were slightly bustling as people were walking to and from various stores, all in last-minute preparation for tomorrow night. Many of them were families, with children bouncing up and down excitedly about their costumes while the parents held bags that were presumably filled with candy and other goodies.

It all made Patton smile, for he had that same childish whimsy.

The confectioner didn’t stop walking until he came to a very familiar brown building, the words Patty’s Sweet Confectionaries swirled in fancy but readable font on the window.

Patton took a minute to gently trace his fingers across the white lettering. He still remembers the first day he opened its doors, a young and bright-eyed man who simply wanted to spread the sugary joy that his grandmother used to give him.

With a deep breath, he walked into his confectionery shop, the jingle of the bell above the door made his heart swell up a little. Once inside, he gazed around, nostalgia and melancholy shone in his eyes as he flipped on the lights.

Golden chandeliers glowed from the cream-colored ceiling as the shop became illuminated, presenting the changes that Patton had made. The only other things that remained the same were the dark brown and white tile, and the wooden stands and tables dressed with dishes and bowls, but what filled them had changed since September.

Eyeball-shaped white chocolate truffles, and ghostly popcorn balls were now the specialty treats for the holiday; along with cookies in the shape of skeletons, and white chocolate bark with candy corn. In the display case were still the traditional chocolates, but there were also pumpkin spiced cakes and cupcakes, along with macaroons of varying monstrous design and Frankenstein cereal treats.

However, the two favorites were front and center: gooey marshmallow, and glistening candy apples. The best part about them? The marshmallow is dyed in accordance to the holiday, and the candy apples were also coated with white icing to make it look like Snow White’s poisoned one from the Disney movie.

Walking in further, he plugged in the decorative lights that hung from the walls. The miniature pumpkin luminary bags added another layer of festive spirit to the store, and they paired nicely with the cutout garlands Patton had made some-years back.

The confectioner tenses up as he feels vial of poison roll into his hands from inside his pocket.

A part of him still feels conflicted about doing something like this.

Obviously he knows what Virgil did was horrible and wrong, but on the other hand, he wished there was a much simpler way to see his downfall come to fruition. But as Remy and Toby said, if the police were working with him, then it was impossible to see lawful justice be served to him. (Dorian tried it, and look what happened.)

So this was the only option he had left.

Resolve slowly hardening, Patton made his way to the kitchen to begin work.

He began pulling out giant mixing bowls— both silver and copper, measuring cups, double boilers, spoons and forks, and a plethora of ingredients in order to create the perfect box of poisonous chocolates.

Patton didn’t need to think about which ones he would give to the widower, he knew the recipes for each one by memory.

The first recipe read:
 “1 lb of dark chocolate 16 maraschino cherries with the stem 3 tablespoons softened butter 3 tablespoons light corn syrup 2 cups sifted confectioners’ sugar”

Parts of the second read:
 “2/3 cups dark chocolate chips 1/3 cup + 2 tablespoons of heavy cream A dash of cinnamon”

The third read:
 “7 oz. finely chopped dark chocolate 1/3 cup espresso ½ tablespoons unsalted butter ½ cup unsweetened cocoa powder”

And finally, the fourth read: 
“1 cup melted cocoa butter 1 tablespoon cocoa powder 3 tablespoon dark chocolate ½ teaspoon almond extract”

Within each recipe, he made sure to add the cyanide poisoning into the mixtures, adding a bit more than necessary so that it wouldn’t be masked by any of the other ingredients. (He wore protective gear, of course. The same mask and gloves he wore whenever he dabbled in making anything featuring liquid nitrogen.)

Hours later, he had batches cooling on racks and baking sheets. And after checking that he had a perfect set of thirty-two, he began the decorating process. Glazes, icings, and sugars scattered about in the air and dusted his face, hair, and fingers.

Once everything was done up all nice and pretty, Patton placed them all in a box: a black one topped with a bow of dark violet ribbon.

Patton stood back and observed his craftsmanship. A deep frown slowly made its way to his face.

The first part of the deed was done…

…now? It was time for Virgil to have a taste of his own chocolatey medicine.

[paperwick]

Artist Interview with Kallie LeFave

Last week I got to sit down and interview an artist I admire, Kallie LeFave. Her work has inspired me for a while, and she very kindly agreed to take the time to chat with me about her social media, past struggles, and how fanart has impacted her freelance business.

Kallie Lefave is a self-taught illustrator with a focus in fantasy, and has been successfully freelancing for nearly 7 years. She has a keen eye for color and shape dynamics.

D: You're pretty active on social media, at least from what I've seen on Twitter. How many platforms do you maintain?

K: Right now I'm active on Twitter, Instagram, and Tumblr, all of which I can be found under @kallielef

D: How much of your day, or week, do you devote to your social media? Not just posting and retweeting/reblogging other's work, but also creating the artwork you use on social.

K: Well, my schedule has changed a lot with a toddler, but I'd say right now I devote about 2-3 hours of the day to creating work along with posting to my platforms. So, perhaps 30 minutes retweeting/reblogging/liking art and maybe 1-2 hours painting and drawing.

Weekends I get a little more free time, so maybe 3-4 hours then, but that can always change with a kiddo.

D: I believe it! Starting a family will shake up any schedule for sure. Has it impacted your approach or your artwork in unforeseen ways?

K: Oh, definitely! I waited (and contemplated) on having a child for almost ten years because I was worried about how it would affect my time to create. My daughter had some complications, a breathing issue after she was born which made my brain switch gears, and all my focus went towards her. For a while I found myself frustrated needing a creative outlet, but ultimately having a child helped me learn balance and selflessness. Because of her, not only do I have a more structured and valued appreciation for time dedicated to creating art, but being around a child really has expanded the way I look at and feel about art.

D: Oh wow, even in retrospect that’s scary to think about, I'm glad things worked out! It sounds like it's really changed things up for you. Did you struggle with balance before you had your daughter?

K: Yes, I did struggle, but in the sense that I had so much time on my hands and not enough discipline, and I would overwork myself. My schedule was a hodgepodge of doing studies, learning more about digital art, learning and practicing fundamentals, free art and commission work. Now, I know for the most part what to expect of the day and myself, but also that everything can change and I need to make the most of the time I'm given.

D: That's encouraging, I feel like it's a pretty common problem among artists to struggle with discipline and overwork. Do you have any general advice for people who are facing those same troubles?

K: Yeah, for sure! I always look at a creator like George R R Martin and Stephen King; both incredibly talented and creative artists, but very different disciplines when it comes to creating. I had a professor once tell me that I had a "dancing brush", which she said meant that I traveled a lot around a painting, not settling on one thing for too long. That's very much how my mind feels, constantly dancing and entertaining ideas. If I feel myself getting too overwhelmed or overworking something, sometimes I just have to verbally tell myself to stop and move on, otherwise I'll just get stuck. If I'm afraid to try something or don't have the confidence, or lack of motivation, I like what Even Amundsen once said, "f*!%$ it, Let's DO IT!"

D: Ha ha, I like that a lot!

K: Yes, it's on a sticky note on my computer!

D: How long has it taken you to build up a following? Was there anything that kick-started that process for you, like a shift in what or how you posted content? Or has it been a steady increase from the start?

K: I started working in digital art in 2014, where I began scanning in penciled drawings of all the Hobbit characters, and that was my introduction into fandoms. It wasn't until about a year later when I discovered A Song of Ice and Fire, along with the Game of Thrones series, that I really got invested in a fandom. That's where I created a piece of Sandor Clegane "The Hound" and Arya Stark, posting on Deviantart and got one of their Daily Deviations. I didn't know what that was at the time, but saw that it brought in a lot of new followers and interest to my work. That was exciting, I love having conversations with people and the fan art engaged me with so many other fans. So, I had a small following start there which grew a lot for some time in the GoT fandom. After that, I created works for The Hobbit and Dragon Age fandom, which I'm still currently creating artwork of, but I'm not certain my following has grown very much-it's been steady, but small. That used to disappoint me some, that I didn't have a huge following, but I kind of like my small groups; I get to spend more time talking to people and less pressure on myself.

D: Fan art has been a large part of your online work, how has it informed your professional work? Has having a fan-base built on fanworks impacted your business significantly?

K: A lot of the work I do professionally is because clients found me through fandoms, and it's definitely impacted my business. But one thing that is always flattering and fun are the clients who want me to create their original characters or concepts. For them to feel confident enough in my abilities to recreate their ideas means a lot and tells me I must be doing something right! That also helps give me encouragement to create my own characters, and hopefully one day make solely original content to sell (like Pete Morbacher, Charlie Bowater, Eli Baum, Valentina Remenar, Lois van Baarle, and Minna Sundberg).

D:Do you have a commissions page?

K: Thank you very much! At the moment I don't, but I'll be setting something up in the near future. I'll definitely let people know when I'm taking commission work again.

D: As a self taught artist, how do you feel about the art college dilemma? Especially with online course schools like schoolism and CTRL+Paint available?

K: Ha, I was just reading about the topic in imagineFX magazine. I went to school for traditional art with a focus in abstract expressionism and conceptualism. I'm not sure I really learned anything, unfortunately, BUT the discipline, structure,  connections and social networking I made at that time were helpful. I think a lot of digital artists would agree that going to art school has those same benefits and can help a lot of people who are lacking in discipline, creating a daily syllabi and have a hard time meeting people. But also, I have taken a few self taught Schoolism courses, and loved them. I think if you have the time to invest in courses like that (or the free ones like ctrl paint), and are willing to be disciplined, they can be very effective. In short, I feel both traditional and online schools have a lot to offer, it’s just a matter of what you're willing to invest in.

*when I say I didn't learn anything from school, I mean the fundamentals or "how to paint", haha. I did learn a lot otherwise.

D: What has been the most challenging thing for you in art?

K: The first thing that comes to mind is building up a memory of what I'm trying to learn or practice, like how light hits the planes of a face or how a figure should look when turned at a certain angle. I still have to reference things as my memory can betray me lol, but I'm starting to see things being remembered and clicking.

D: Is there someone lately whose art has really inspired you? Or some recommended reading you'd like to share?

K: A lot of the Pixar/Disney art teams, like Mingju Helen Chen, Corey Loftis, Minkyu Lee. I'm learning a lot about shape language looking at their art. There's always Charlie Bowater, too, who I think is a bit of a wizard with her brush. Art related reading-I have been listening to Bobby Chiu's "The Perfect Bait" on youtube, hopefully it will be in print again one day because it's a very resourceful art book. Non art-I read devotionals daily, currently one about the ego and it just helps keep me grounded.

Kallie has a lot of great insight, and is just an incredible artist. You can find Kallie’s work on most social media platforms under her handle kallielef:

https://twitter.com/kallielef

https://kallielef.tumblr.com/

https://www.instagram.com/kallielef/

[warlordess]

An Alternate Journey (Pokeshipping; part three)

Authors - @warlordess and @miyatoriaka

 Notes – Here be chapter two/part three of my joint project with Miya. I decided to post this one a bit early due to Valentine’s Day. It’s also Leaf’s introduction, which was a little harder for me to write because I don’t know much of anything about Leaf as a character. I mean, in the games, she’s the avatar of the player’s whim (should they choose a female character) and I’ve barely read the Adventures manga, nor have I seen Origins (and I have no clue if she’s even in it). So I threw a bit of info together from the game and gave her a bit of Gary’s mean streak from early canon… but also tried to write her as a bit more complicated than your average rival/bully, which eventually shows through between this chapter and the next.

Anyway, read on and please review/comment/reblog! Unless you’re one of those derpy anonymous trolls. If you’re one of those then you can go choke.

You can find the prologue here.

You can find chapter one here.

OoO

 Title - “An Alternate Journey”

 Summary - Eleven year old novice trainer Misty starts her Pokemon adventure, best friends Gary and Ash by her side. But will she withstand every test her travels throw at her and become the greatest master trainer of all time? Fic co-crafted with famous fan-artist, Miyatoriaka!

 Ages - Misty and Leaf are eleven years old, Ash and Gary are thirteen, and the adults are adult-aged so who cares about ‘em? Lol.

 Chapter Two - Rival

 OoOoO

 The cotton candy sunrise came and went while the three trainers snoozed, making up for their disrupted sleep from the night before. The sun had fully risen by the time they did wake, all of them eating a light breakfast of bread, jam, and fresh fruit before Misty released Gastly so he could direct them towards their next destination: Pewter City.

 “Wow, we got here much quicker than I thought we would considering how many days we were stuck in Viridian Forest,” Gary noted, his hand saluted against his brow as he took in the sights. He hadn’t visited this staple city recently since his gym and familial locations were settled in the more southern areas of Kanto.

 “It’s all thanks to Gastly!” Misty responded proudly, “Because of him, Eevee and I will face off against the gym leader here right after a quick trip to the PokeCenter!”

 “Ah, well, maybe you should pace yourself,” Ash warned her cryptically.

 “Wha’d’ya mean?”

 “It’s just… You’ve been a trainer for all of - what? - two weeks, almost half the time of which was spent stuck in one place, and now you wanna march straight up to the nearest gym to demand a battle? Much better prepared trainers than you have set themselves up for major loss because of that kinda recklessness.”

 “Okaaay… so do you two know anything about the gym? You both are part of the league yourselves, right? There must be something you can tell me.”

 “Hm, well, like much of the architecture here alludes, the gym utilizes rock-type Pokemon. Unfortunately, there was an upset a few years ago so the trainer in charge has alternated a couple times. Even the representative at league events has varied. Because of that, I dunno what their skill level is or what specific Pokemon they’re likely to use. I can say,” Gary paused to release a huff as the group of three humans and one ground-traversing Pokemon carefully ambled over some particularly uneven terrain leading from the plateau that divided Viridian Forest and Pewter City, “that, due to this gym being the first stop for most new trainers, the league challenge presented is kept at a moderate level.”

[read more]

“Doesn’t mean you shouldn’t expect a good fight though,” Ash began next, almost losing his footing and having to take a moment to regain his step. “The challenge level might be maintained for new trainers but there’s basically no Pokemon you can catch around here that has an advantage against rock-types. You either have to force the advantage yourself by picking a starter that can measure up or you have to get really lucky.”

 “Well, let’s just get to the PokeCenter first,” Misty mumbled, her formerly impressive ego vastly reduced by the information that had been offered.

 “Yeah, and maybe we’ll walk around town while you come up with a strategy. We’ll still need to stock up on potions and food and stuff. There might be some interesting sights to see too.”

 The group finally made it into town, catching sight of the PokeCenter’s great red roof even from their distance and making a Beedrill line for it. Misty withdrew Gastly back to his Pokeball with a word of gratitude, picked Eevee up into her arms, and approached the front desk where a young woman with a pink uniform and even brighter pink hair was waiting with a cheery grin to greet them.

 “Welcome to our PokeCenter, here to heal your Pokemon’s every woe! I’m Nurse Joy and I’ll be registering your Pokemon in our database so they can be admitted for healing or check-ups.”

 “Hey, wait, didn’t we meet her in…?”

 “Oh, yeah, you don’t know, Misty, but every Center is run by a relative of the samy family. The same holds true for the police force,” Ash informed her.

 “Relatives…?” the redhead replied with a brow quirked in suspicion. “You sure they aren’t clones?”

 She had said such a thing offhandedly, meaning it as a joke, but when she next returned her gaze to the aforementioned woman, that originally sweet smile was suddenly looking a little strained.

 “My aunts, nieces, sisters, and cousins are all just as human as I am, just as we all share the same passion for caring about Pokemon.”

 Next moment, any residual malice had vanished - though Misty retained her apologetic expression for a few seconds longer - and Nurse Joy held out a tray with six empty Pokeball slots on it.

 “Please deposit your Pokemon for me here and my assistant Chansey will escort them to their room after admission. Will your friends be leaving theirs as well?”

 “Yeah, might as well,” Gary relented, and he and Ash both began to remove the round miniature devices from their belts while Joy placed two more trays on the counter and scanned Misty’s with an electronic reader, then typed a few things into her computer.

 Before she could follow suit with Ash and Gary’s Pokemon, Misty took the opportunity to place Eevee on the counter as well.

 “Um, she’s one of mine too. Do I…? I’m hoping I won’t have to force her into her Pokeball. I didn’t before.”

 “Oh, my, a trainer who travels with their Pokemon outside of a Pokeball? And this Eevee doesn’t seem to be an infant either. But it’s absolutely no problem! We have plenty of patients who are more like companions and visit just like this.”

 Nurse Joy accepted the fox-like Pokemon into her arms, giving her a comforting pat along her back, then turned and placed her on a timely delivered stretcher that Chansey had rolled up. She finished scanning and entering Ash and Gary’s Pokemon IDs into the computer, added their trays to the stretcher as well, and Chansey rolled everyone to the back area of the Center.

 Afterwards, the three trainers reserved a room and left to take in the sights around town, including the PokeMart and a couple of specialty stores. When they’d finished with lunch, they headed back to the PokeCenter to retrieve their Pokemon, Gary taking the opportunity to check their funds and make a budget for their supply costs.

 “So TMs are…?” Misty was asking him in the meantime as the whole lot of them waited for Chansey to grab their Pokeballs.

 “Well, they’re short for ‘technical machine’ but, as for what they do, they’re used to teach Pokemon moves they wouldn’t ordinarily learn through training and natural growth. There are some real powerful ones available.”

 “Thanks,” Ash said in reference to the nearly always smiling Nurse Joy handing over their Pokemon. “Are we heading back out?” he asked this time to his friends.

 “Ah, about that… I was wondering if it’s possible to go visit Pewter Gym?” Misty began, picking Eevee up into her arms with a kiss to her forehead before allowing the Pokemon to climb over her shoulder. “You know, like I used to do back in Cerulean City with you, Ash. I figure this is the only way I can prepare myself more for my own gym battle. Unless you wanna let me battle you. You never replied to me when I asked yesterday.”

 “Well, it’s true that most gyms have open hours for spectators to come watch but we’ll have to go check and see what hours those are…” Gary replied to her, nudging Ash into prolonged silence before he could come up with a retort.

 In fact, the raven-haired trainer was going to respond anyway to Misty’s commentary about him supposedly never answering to her challenge the night before but he was interrupted by yet another person as soon as they’d made it out the sliding double doors of the PokeCenter.

 “Oho! My goodness, if it isn’t the late bloomer of Cerulean City!”

 Misty’s expression immediately darkened as she stopped in her tracks, already apparently knowing who the voice belonged to without turning to see for herself.

 “Oh, no.”

 “I’m sorry, what was that?” asked the girl with long brown hair, a black high collar sleeveless dress, and white trainer gloves, leaning in close and smirking, prodding Misty in the cheek.

 Ash had to blink in wonder, curious as to how she’d moved in so quickly (and who she was for that matter).

 “I said, hi, Leaf, how’ve you been since you left Pallet Town?” the redhead rephrased, stiff plastic smile on her face as she made a half-hearted attempt to swat the other girl’s hand away.

 “Oh, well, thanks so much for asking! Everything’s been going so perfectly! I’ve gotten six badges, I’ve made so much money and fame that it’s almost unnecessary for me to even compete in the league and become the Pokemon Master! But of course I still will,” the snarky preteen added in afterthought, “And lastly, of course, is that I’ve caught the perfect little team of Pokemon! They’re all so cute!

 “But silly me! You shouldn’t let me talk about myself all day! So what about you, Misty dear? Still a late bloomer as always, I see! It looks like you’ve barely started out! So… when did you finally leave home, hmm? And when were you planning on introducing me to your handsome companions?”

 It had felt like every sharp word spilled from this girl’s lips in a single cunning breath. Her passive-aggressive jabs and flaunting self-promotion were enough to make Misty’s blood boil. But then again, Leaf had always had a way of crawling under her skin, ever since they were youngsters in school together.

 “Uh, anyway, Ash and Gary, this is Leaf. She’s my…” What? The only term Misty could think of to describe her was ‘bane of my existence’ but the redhead couldn’t help thinking she needed to say something more subtle. “... I’ve known her most of my life. Leaf, this is Ash,” she paused to point him out, “and this is Gary. They’re traveling with me.”

 “Oh, that’s so sweet! You have yourself a couple of babysit - I mean, training coaches!” The slip-up did not go unnoticed. “You’re just so lucky! Most of us have to accept the burden of traveling independently, taking full responsibility for our own goals and struggles, but having others take up your slack sometimes works too, I suppose. In fact, it even suits someone like you!

 “Anyway, boys, the pleasure is all yours, I’m sure. I hope you both are taking good care of Cerulean City’s late bloomer.”

 Misty couldn’t help the slight twitch of her tightly hunched shoulders every time she was called that. And her subdued fury only doubled when she saw Ash mouth the words over to himself as he and Leaf shook hands, clearly confused but knowing better than to ask at the moment.

 Leaf shook hands with an oddly tongue-tied Gary too and then swung back towards her old friend with a sly grin, taking in the sight of Eevee for the first time and bending down to greet her.

 “Why, hello there, cutie! I didn’t notice you before! I apologize for that! How could I miss such a sweet baby?” the brunette cooed genuinely with sparkling eyes, reaching out to stroke Eevee’s fluffy mane and seeming the slightest bit perturbed when the Pokemon didn’t respond to her earnest enthusiasm in kind. Rather, the normal-type Pokemon curled herself around her trainer’s ankles as if trying to disappear from view.

 “So where did you catch her? Eevee are really rare in the wild, you know. You usually have to breed one. I should know; I’ve been looking for one for myself for months now.”

 “Actually Eevee and I are partners because of Gary. He’s Professor Oak’s grandson. He was able to talk the professor into letting me breed an Eevee from an egg two of theirs managed to make. See, Eevee wasn’t caught. She’s my first Pokemon. That’s why I had to wait so much longer than everyone else to start my journey.”

 Because she and I were especially meant to be together! So there! she couldn’t help but add internally at the ever-so-slightly faltering smile on the other girl’s face. It sure felt good to come out on top!

 Indeed, her rival seemed quite put out by the reveal of such details but shook off her envy within seconds and reached her full height once more.

 “Well, Misty dear, that just gave me a marvelous idea! Why don’t we have a battle now that you’re finally a Pokemon trainer too? Just a little one-on-one practice. I know how hard it can be for you when you’re just starting out! You could probably use the experience and money. How about we battle starter against starter? Since I’m sure you don’t have much of a team yet. And it seems like fate had us meet each other here today.”

 “Actually, Misty has caught herself six Pokemon already!” Ash blurted out from the background, retreating and regrouping when his redheaded friend glared at him. “Though Eevee is definitely your strongest option at this point,” he clarified finally.

 “You know what, Leaf?! You’re on! Let’s do this, right now!”

 “Well, that’s great then, isn’t it? We even have an audience for our first ever official battle! Now, c’mon, there’s a practice field over there we can use…” And then, at the sight of Misty looking quite suddenly embarrassed, “... Or did you forget we’re standing right in front of the PokeCenter in the middle of a busy street?”

 “I, uh, I - of course not! Let’s go, Eevee!” the redhead huffed aloud, turning up her nose and stomping in the direction of their aforementioned battleground, the rest of their group following after them.

 “This is a one-on-one battle between Misty and Leaf, starter Pokemon only, no items allowed during the match. If these terms are agreeable to both trainers,” Gary paused here during his impromptu referee speech so that any complaints could be voiced if they existed before continuing, “then you may call out your Pokemon and begin!”

 “I call Eevee!”

 “Woo! Go, Misty!” Ash shouted from his place on the sidelines, pumping a fist into the air.

 The redhead offered him a grateful smile for his camaraderie before turning a determined and scrutinizing gaze on her opponent, waiting to see what challenge she and Eevee would have to face.

 Leaf had almost an entire year up on her experience-wise, and it wasn’t until this moment that the novice Pokemon trainer realized how remiss it was of her to not have paid attention to what Pokemon the other girl had chosen for the start of her own journey that fateful day all that time ago. And no matter which starter she’d picked, it had probably evolved by now, perhaps even more than once.

 “Come on out, Squirtle!” the female trainer shouted, elegantly tossing a Pokeball forward, where it snapped open and unveiled an all-too-familiar beam of scarlet light which morphed into the outline of a small turtle-like Pokemon Misty had learned much about back when she wasn’t sure which Pokemon she should choose as her first.

 Still, back to the present, she wasn’t quite sure if she was more relieved or disappointed by the sight of this particular opponent.

 “I hope you don’t mind us making the first move while you’re busy thinking? Squirtle, tackle!”

 The water-type Pokemon gave a firm nod before running bipedal in Eevee’s direction.

 “Ah!” Misty gasped, collecting herself and responding by instinct, “Eevee, dodge it and use your sand attack!”

 The fox-like Pokemon leapt out of the way and then u-turned as Squirtle careened past, digging his stubby feet into the ground to try and keep himself from going too far beyond his original goal. Unfortunately he wasn’t quick enough to avoid his adversary’s follow-up attack and was punished by an onslaught of dirt in his eyes, momentarily blinding him.

 “Use your water gun to wash your eyes out!” Leaf commanded.

 “I hope you don’t mind us continuing to battle while Squirtle is busy with that,” Misty commented smartly, barely able to conceal her condescending and prideful tone as she mimicked her rival’s statement from barely more than a minute ago.

 Leaf’s facial features tightened into a restrained grimace, clearly catching on but choosing to refrain from commentary and instead redoubling her efforts in the rest of their battle.

 “Eevee, tackle!”

 “Counter with withdraw!”

Squirtle paused in the middle of washing out his eyes, curling all appendages within his shell just in time for Eevee to smash into him. The normal-type squealed in pain and recoiled but shook it off rather quickly otherwise.

 “Try your tail whip and then use quick attack, Eevee!”

 “Use rapid spin!”

 The fox Pokemon wagged her tail in Squirtle’s direction just as he’d unfurled from his withdrawal but, while quick attack was an accelerated move, rapid spin was much faster. By the time Eevee had jumped from all fours to launch her weight at him, Squirtle was already curled up and swerving out of the way. But the relentless speed didn’t stop there as the water-type glided circles around his opponent before lunging at her, smacking her to the ground and flying a solid ten or so feet away before popping out of his shell again and landing gracefully on his hind legs.

 “Ah! Eevee, you can get up, right? We can still…” No sooner had Misty spoken these words than her Pokemon stumbled to her paws, looking the worse for wear in every regard but not wanting to let her trainer down. “Yeah, we can still do this! We can still win if we just keep attacking! Use your bite!”

 “Iron defense!”

 Squirtle withdrew into his shell once more, with the added effect of it shimmering a glossy white, just in time for Eevee to clamp down with her fangs, which proved to be quite the mistake. She whimpered as she pulled back, mouth clearly sore after such a folly.

 “Water pulse!”

 “Dodge--”

 But there was no time. A jet stream of high-powered water shot towards Eevee, making contact less than three seconds after the order was given. The already wounded Pokemon was thrust that much further towards the side of the field, hitting the ground hard and rolling limply a few times before coming to a stop, struggling to get back up even after such a beating.

 But Leaf wasn’t finished quite yet, and she no longer seemed interested in playing her games either.

 “Now finish it with your skull bash!”

 “Wait, what?”

 Misty’s head drew a blank at the confident utterance that was Leaf’s command. Skull bash was Squirtle’s signature move, one of the most powerful techniques he could learn. Compared to that, there was nothing in hers and Eevee’s arsenal that could compare. If this next attack made contact…

 “Eevee, lower Squirtle’s strength with your growl! Or at least get out of there if you can!”

 It was no use, everything was over so very soon. Squirtle had started dashing at her precious Pokemon but that trot had turned into a mad sprint, during which the water-type was moving so quickly that his feet, then his stubbly legs, and then his body as a whole were powerful white blurs of agility and power.

 Eevee successfully growled but it seemed to have no effect on the incoming threat so she attempted to follow through with Misty’s secondary command... However there wasn’t enough time.

 Squirtle’s hardened skull smashed into Eevee and sent the normal-type flying through the air before she hit the ground and wrenched round a few times in the dirt, coming to a stop in the left-hand corner of the field on her trainer’s side.

 Speechless and distraught, the redhead couldn’t wait for Gary’s official call to the end of the battle and began cautiously stumbling towards her unconscious Pokemon, but her half-hearted gait gained traction with every step until she was full-on running, her breath stolen from her throat, eyes both somehow watering and burning dry at the same time, her skin cold and heart hammering with fear.

 Pokemon fainted and lost battles every single day, she knew that, but… not her Pokemon. Not her Eevee. Never before this moment.

 “Misty--,” Ash began, on his feet in an instant and ready to support her in her time of need but he was interrupted by the somewhat restrained sound of Gary’s voice.

 “Eevee is unable to battle, which makes the winners of the match Squirtle and Leaf!”

 “Great job, Squirtle, come here!” Leaf called out, her Pokemon responding obediently with enthusiasm and waddling towards her. She fondly patted him on the head, kneeling down and granting him a soft kiss on the cheek before calling him back to his Pokeball and regaining her full height once more.

 “Do you see now, Misty dear? Pokemon come in all sizes, types, and strengths. At the end of the day, it doesn’t really matter that your Eevee was bred especially for you or that your friends gave up their time to help you on your journey. What matters to you most - or what should matter - is the bond you share with your Pokemon and the time you’ve put in together.

 “Squirtle and I have been together for almost a full year. We’ve won six badges together, earned a living and survived and thrived together. We’ve built a team together too.

 “Nothing can replace or replicate the bond I have with my Pokemon or the time we’ve spent working towards our goals. Even a novice like you who just started out will have to work at it if your dream is to truly become the greatest Pokemon Master ever.”

 “Hey, Misty, you okay…?” Ash asked, kneeling down beside her as she sat in the grass, cradling her unconscious Pokemon in her arms. “You know, once we get Eevee back to the PokeCenter for awhile, she’ll be good as new in no time!”

 Gary walked up to them both as Misty, still dispirited, managed a nod.

 “But, then again, I’ll have already finished collecting badges and challenging the league long before you, which means that I’ll naturally become a Master class trainer first. And it seems pretty clear to me from the battle we just had that you’ll never be a match against me anyway, will you, Misty dear?” Leaf goaded more shallowly now, drawing a hand through her long brown hair and hmphing with a mild smirk adorning her face. “After all, once a late bloomer, always a late bloomer, am I ri--”

 “--Hey!” Ash shouted, on his feet in an instant and staring her down from a considerable distance, quite fed up with her condescending attitude. “What makes you think you can talk to my friend like this?! Just ‘cause you’re a stronger trainer and just ‘cause--”

 Gary laid a hand on his shoulder, averting his gaze slightly under Ash’s increased ire, though the raven-haired trainer was also effectively silenced by his friend’s maneuver.

 “I don’t think that’s it.”

 “Wha’d’ya mean?”

 “I think… I’m just saying…” And Gary dropped his tone to such a lower murmur that Ash had to strain to hear what he was saying, meaning Misty probably couldn’t hear it at all (which was probably the point), “... that she needs to learn this lesson too.”

 “Yeah, well, that doesn’t mean that she,” Ash paused long enough to jack his thumb in Leaf’s direction, “should be the one to teach it! But it’s fine! If she wants to talk about bonds made and time spent with Pokemon then I’ll gladly match her! After all, Bulbasaur and I have been together for years! And Weepinbell too! And--”

 “--No, Ash!” a strained voice rang out from the ground, and the two young men faltered amid their discussion as Misty vigilantly rose to her feet, still holding Eevee just as closely and tenderly as ever. “I don’t need you to fight my battles for me. I don’t… I don’t really get what you guys were saying but I just wanna say one thing! Eevee and I are a great team! Whatever we may be missing now we’re gonna find and master! Do you hear me, Leaf? The next time you and I battle, we’re gonna be the ones who best you!”

 Leaf threw her hands up in a casual shrug, her lips curling upward so faintly that none of the others could even see it.

 “Whatever you say… little miss late bloomer,” she replied aloofly, turning on her heel and marching proudly away. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a date with an ancient Pokemon exhibit.”

 “What was her problem?” Ash begged aloud as soon as she was gone. “Misty, are you okay? You shouldn’t listen to Leaf just ‘cause she beat you in a battle, okay? You and Eevee are plenty close and plenty strong, right, Gary?”

 There was an edgy pressure to his tone that not so subtly demanded Gary had better agree but the Viridian gym trainer was still staring after Leaf with awkwardly flushed cheeks and sharp eyes.

 “Yeah… Ash is right, I guess…”

 “You guess?!” the raven-haired trainer yelped, though his expression darkened as he looked his old friend over with pursed lips and furrowed brows, apparently catching on to something he’d missed earlier on. “Are you just saying that ‘cause you’re--”

 “--I’m just saying that because, even though Leaf came on strong,” the burgundy-haired trainer countered, pointedly interrupting what he had a feeling was going to be a very embarrassing and very accurate accusation, “she made a good point… and a strong impression,” he added.

 “C’mon, Ash, like I said before, Misty was going to have to face this moment sooner or later. You gotta remember that we’re here to help her when it’s needed and give her advice here and there but… there are just some things it can’t be our responsibility to teach her.

 “I mean, isn’t that why you blew off her requests for a Pokemon battle? Because you were worried you’d accidentally end up playing the role Leaf did?”

 “... You’re too smart for your own good, ya know that?” Ash begrudgingly admitted, blushing.

 “Guys…” Misty’s voice rang out from behind them, and both boys jumped nearly a foot in the air, having basically forgotten during their heated discussion that she was present to hear their every word. “Guys, it’s okay. And thank you. I… don’t really know what happened or like how it happened but I’ll get stronger from this and we’ll win the next battle against Leaf, just like I told her.”

 Perhaps Ash was imagining it but he couldn’t help thinking that the expression on the redhead’s face was more affectionate than it should have been as she stared wistfully in the direction Leaf had vanished in, considering what had transpired between them during their match. Huh. Maybe there was more to the girls’ relationship than he could comprehend at present.

 “Anyway, can we get Eevee back to the PokeCenter now?”

 “Sounds like a good idea to me,” Gary responded with a rare warm grin, perhaps feeling that one of his sarcastic or blunt quips would be better saved for another time.

 A couple of hours later, after Eevee had received both a good nap and some decent first aid from the talented and dedicated Nurse Joy and her assistant Chansey, the group of three trainers left to pay a visit to the Pewter City Gym and see about its open hours, which they’d unfortunately missed for the day, so they went out to grab dinner instead.

 Misty, who’d been sitting on the question since that afternoon, finally got around to asking Ash and Gary about the odd event that Leaf had mentioned in passing earlier.

 “Ancient Pokemon exhibit, hmm…?” Ash replied first, staring into the distance as if deep in thought for a few seconds before deadpanning, “I’ve got no clue. Oh well!”

 “I think she was talking about Pewter’s Museum of Science and Natural History. They have a department dedicated to the excavation and research of ancient Pokemon species. Rumor is they’ve even been involved in potential resurrection or cloning with the use of DNA,” Gary rattled off informatively.

 “Wow… I don’t really understand it but that sounds pretty amazing! Can we go check it out?”

 Misty smiled down at her perfectly healed Eevee, suppressing the guilt that bubbled up in the back of her mind at the sight of the Pokemon. It still stung some to think back to their battle earlier with Leaf, still bothered the redhead some to remember the harsh lesson she’d learned. The first thing she’d done for her Pokemon after Eevee had woken up was apologize profusely for letting her down, but of course Eevee had just licked her hand and nudged affectionately against her fact, not quite understanding but wanting to make her trainer feel better.

 Misty and friends made their way up the few blocks to one of the bus stops on Main Street, which would take them the rest of the way northeast where the museum was apparently located.

 After the ten minute commute, their group found themselves standing in front of a massive four story complex, facing a magnificent courtyard and stately architecture built out of the same slate gray stone that seemed to be the main source material used in most of Pewter City’s historical builds.

 “C’mon guys!” Misty called out, perfectly carefree if the way she was skipping excitedly towards the main entrance was any indication.

 Just as she’d opened one of the double doors, she and the others heard a distraught and irate shout from inside the building.

 “Wait! Thief! Stop them please!”

 A tall figure in black sprinted through the door Misty was holding, so strong and reckless that they inadvertently collided into her and caused her to tumble to the ground.

 “Hey, what’s the…” she began angrily in response to this transgression but faltered at the sinister expression and demeanor of the man before her as he glared icily before remembering he needed to be on his way.

 As soon as he was gone, many things happened in succession. Ash was checking to make sure she was okay while Gary was staring suspiciously after the man in black, followed immediately by the front door bursting open again and a whole slew of people appearing all at once, including a few in blue security uniforms, a fair number of curious bystanders, and two people sporting white lab coats.

 “Oh - oh no, are you alright, honey?” the first one, female with a rather meek and neurotic personality, simpered, giving Misty a once over, bouncing on the balls of her feet and pacing to and fro in clear distress. “Oh no, oh my, but there’s no time, we have to hurry! Oh, I can’t believe this happened! How could it - how will we ever find--”

 “--Penelope, calm down please,” her coworker attempted to cajole her authoritatively, having just apparently finished a phone call because he was placing his cell in his pocket. “I just contacted the police and Sergeant Jenny will be here soon. There’s nothing else we can do for now without potentially risking our safety. You three,” he motioned towards the group of trainers, “I’m sorry to approach you like this but we’re in the middle of an emergency situation. We’ve just had a very valuable fossil stolen from one of our exhibits by someone wearing a black jumpsuit. Did you happen to notice anything we might be able to report to the police when they arrive?”

 “No, how could we when--?”

 But Ash was cut off before he could say anymore.

 “The guy looked middle-aged, had black hair but there were gray streaks on the sides, gray eyes. He looked at least six feet tall. He exited through the gate and took a left. It seemed like he was trying to u-turn around the museum campus and escape into the northern woods,” Gary recited and, after catching sight of Misty and Ash’s bemused expressions, he added, “I was watching him go just in case it might help.”

 “Thanks, son, that was very smart of you. You three!” And the male scientist turned to face the security officers. “Go around back, fan out with your Pokemon and chase the thief down. Don’t do anything to risk damage to that fossil. If you can safely stall until Sergeant Jenny and her officers show up then do so, otherwise send someone back here so they can lead the police in the right direction when they arrive.”

 The trio of security personnel nodded in affirmation of this instruction and ran off instantly afterwards. Misty finally got back to her feet and watched them go, feeling mysteriously equal parts excited and frustrated over how she’d let the criminal get away. Still, to think someone had been able to steal an artifact from a well-guarded museum in (mostly) broad daylight…

 The thought had barely even crossed her mind when a more familiar figure, smaller in stature with long brown hair and wearing a black turtle-collared skater dress, dashed by them all in a blur of tricolor, out the gate and circling the campus in an instant, following the security guards.

 “Wait, was that…?” Ash started tapering off towards the end of his perturbed comment.

 “I think… it was…” Gary replied, his tone somewhat more admirable. “Wait, Misty!”

 For the redheaded novice trainer had already taken off as fast as her legs would allow, Eevee ever loyal at her side. The two boys had no choice but to pursue their reckless friend, ignoring the shouts from the administrative scientist and his more panicked assistant.

 “Grr… those kids better not cause any damage to this operation!”

 “I just pray everyone will be alright. With Team Rocket behind this, we can’t… always be sure, can we…?” Penelope responded cryptically in a somber tone, immediately sobering her superior up, his expression softening into shame and concern.

 “Yes, you’re quite right.”

 OoOoO

 Notes - And thus ends this chapter with a somewhat unintended cliffhanger. Miya wasn’t able to guess what went down in the next chapter so I wonder if anyone else will be able to? Lol. It’s not that special to be honest. Also coming in the next chapter is Misty’s first gym battle! And, oh… is Ash jealous…?

Next chapter will be posted around the end of March.

Likes, comments, reviews, whatever is available from the reader’s end is really invaluable to a writer’s interest in continuation!

[courage-a-word-of-justice]

Shield Hero 20 - 22 | Sarazanmai 7 - 9 | BSD 32 - 34 | Fruits Basket 8 - 9 | Demon Slayer 8 - 10 | OPM 20 - 21

Shield Hero 20

Motoyasu getting dragged by Filo was funny…not enough to get a proper laugh though. Just a smirk or two.

Stop narrating and just get on with it, Naofumi and friends…!

“I was saying we should fight together all along.” (from Itsuki) – Were you, now…? (skeptical)

Ass-pull! I call “ass-pull” at the power to swallow the phoenix flame! Seriously, when did the dragon get the opportunity to teach Naofumi how to do that???

How did Naofumi not die after losing so much blood…?

What does the Q even stand for in the queen’s name…?

Sarazanmai 7

The seagulls…so fluffy…

For some reason, I expect a fakeout, but then it never arrives…these boys are really connecting…

I found some kappa croquette thingy online, but it referred to a “Shiki City” which probably isn’t in Asakusa…

The shirt…Kazuki’s shirt says “frog” but I get the feeling it also means “return”.

Shirohasu water. It’s Irohasu in Japan.

Was the lyric to Kawausoiya (the otter song) “gonna take ‘em”…?

Nice ET reference, Sara.

Balls…not just sport entendre, but…y’know. The sort of humour I don’t like as much.

Ooh…Keppi is shaping up to be the bad guy. But what plans does he have? Am I speculating too much and is he being framed? Hard to know until next time…

BSD 32

When Kyouka is eating the sundae, she looks like the Tofu Kyouka from Mayoi…hmm.

Can I confess something? Before I saw the illustrations for s2, I thought Louisa’s hair was much darker than what it is in the anime…hmmm, indeed.

I don’t think we were ever told (in the manga or the anime) what Louisa’s wish was…

This bit with Fyodor…I don’t think it was in the manga.

Subarashi-sou is a pun on “it seems wonderful”. That wasn’t in the manga, but it’s a great pun (because it’s right up my alley).

Fitz laughing at the neighbour’s TV wasn’t in the manga either, but that’s just the anime director’s humour peeking through.

“Blalack Daniel’s”, LOL.

Ohh…a quick Google reveals TJ Eckleberg is from the Great Gatsby. In there, he’s an eye doctor, but here, he’s an engineer.

George B Wilson is also from the Great Gatsby…Here be spoilers, but…George dies in his original work too.

Manhasset is a place in New York…I assume it’s connected to the Great Gatsby as well…

Oh yeah! Random Poe moment. That’s in the manga, so Igarashi (or whoever’s responsible for the terrible humour) doesn’t have to fake that bit.

Cue “Objection!” by Fitz, lemme guess. Even if I know the outcome and how it was done, I’d like to have my memory refreshed (by stabbing in the dark…and making an Ace Attorney joke in the process).

I already know, without googling, that Tom Buchanan is part of Great Gatsby as well…

Bank of Amerigo…LOL.

Fruits Basket 8

“If you show up for the banquet now…”

“The banquet sounds just like the folk tale!” Honestly, subbers, proofread…

Haa-kun and Haa-san. No distinguishing between them (aside from honorifics), even though they’re two completely different people.

Hatori’s squinty face was…hilarious, to put it simply.

Oh…I forgot the dance seems to be something the animal of the year does. So if Yuki was 3 years ago, it makes sense Momiji is doing it this year.

Best seat in the house for a sunrise, huh?

Kimetsu no Yaiba 8

I’ve seen Muzan being described as “Demon Michael Jackson” and now I can’t get that out of my head when I see him…sorry.

Tsukihiko, huh? It translates to “moon’s radiance” or something like that. That name is appropriate for a bad guy, isn’t it?

This is the first time I’ve really listened to the OST (aside from the OP and ED), so it’s…really something.

Ooh, I didn’t realise until now, but Ufotable even imitated the paper Jump is printed on with the next-ep previews…

OPM 2 8 (OPM 20)

Er…I haven’t mentioned it for the past few episodes, but Suiryu is hotttttttt. (No? I said that? Okay, next step.) That’s basically the only reason why I’m watching anymore…I can’t seem to find anyone who thinks positively of this tournament arc enough to do reviews of it that I can read, which has made my own opinion of this beloved series go down the drain…Also, if you weren’t aware, my taste lies not in Suiryu’s huge bulk, but rather in the fact he’s got long hair.

Didn’t Suiryu get pierced in the abs??? Where’s the blood coming from his injuries??? Update: He does have injuries there, they’re just not bloody…that’s all.

The main criticism for OPM 2 is the fact that it keeps cutting between different events, so it’s hard to follow. Well, I’ve had worse (see Concrete Revolutio) so that’s why I’m still here.

People say that clothing changes you – say if you put on a new outfit, you feel like a new person. (Of course, that’s all glamorising and praising consumption, but that’s beside the point here.) I think that’s what’s up with Max and Snek.

Shield Hero 21

“…the Shield Hero is worshipped.”

Really? Boob jiggle, at a time like this??? (Context: Malty is getting th slave crest painted on her.)

Wait, was there ever a Shield Church???

Okay, that felt like a real seasonal ending. What the heck is going to happen in the last few episodes, I wonder…?

Sarazanmai 8

Chikai knows the real meaning of YOLO…heh. I’m only kidding…

To be honest, I think I like Toi best out of the main trio. I tend to like the boys in blue…and no, I don’t mean the otter police.

Kazuki’s service provider is “Kappa Phone”, LOL.

When Reo held up the gun, I was yelling, “Enta! Get it for him!” (i.e. take the bullet) I didn’t expect him to actually do it…

…and here I thought tragic yuri was common enough and we don’t have enough Tragic Yaoi Dudes…

Notably, Toi was registered on Enta’s phone as “Kuji”, while Kazuki is registered as “Kazuki” (katakana) on Toi’s.

Shots fired…!

Update: I didn’t notice this, but the evil dude with kamome written behind him (I think it’s in this episode, but it might have been in the last one instead) must be based on a seagull…because that’s what kamome means.

Bungou Stray Dogs 33 (BSD S3 Ep 8)

I think it was around here I stopped reading the scans, because the series was picked up legally anyway…but I can see the death flags for a certain Port Mafia man…one who stands at the top.

As expected…butt shot. Igarashi (or whoever’s responsible for that shot) likes butts, so between this and Sarazanmai…*imagines image of kappa!Kazuki holding a shirikodama* There’s absolutely no buts about it (LOL), there’s no shortage of butts this season.

“To think that the rabbit being hunted would show its face…” – I think it’s hard for you to say that, Akutagawa, when you yourself have no face in that frame…

Why are both Akutagawa and Fyodor Naruto running today???

“So you’re doing this for that woman.”

What is “Mukurotoride”? I don’t seem to remember…maybe I never learnt what it was. Update: Apparently a tower in Dead Apple is called Mukurotoride.

Conspiracy time! This book sounds like Kunikida’s Ability…so imagine if it were under Dazai’s nose the entire time…

Fruits Basket 9

I love how the synopsis for this episode goes, “Kyo fights Yuki, Yuki fights a cold…”

Hatsuharu’s wearing such an ostentatious fluffy jacket…LOL, I love it.

Holy cow (LOL), I forgot how old Hatsuharu is…so that means he’s 15-ish, right?

Come to think of it…I see Fruits Basket characters in Ro Te O, which I started writing at about this time in 2013. The Azrael of that time was a hybrid of Hatsuharu, Ritsu and Ayame, Tetsuya is basically Yuki and Ryou is Kyou…hmm.

Apparently, Shigure had in the 2001 anime a song that went like, “High school girls, high school girls, cute high school girls for me.” So that’s where it was??? (Context: I haven’t seen Fruits Basket 2001, but read the entire manga.)

Kimetsu no Yaiba 9

Recap time, recap time…so the lady’s in the back room and Tanjiro conveniently forgets the man is in the basement…? Wuh?

Moya was complaining about how repetitive this show can get when it comes to the script (i.e. it repeats itself because it doesn’t trust its audience, but I think that’s because this is originally serialised on TV week by week that people may forget if they’re not bingeing, taking notes or following the manga). I’ll talk more about that in my KnY collab post, I guess…

When Yushiro said “watch your back”…he really meant it, huh?

Temari are the balls, but kemari is when you kick the balls.

“…the eyeballs on his hands are creepy.” – LOL.

Shield Hero 22

The ep title just says “Hero Council”…not specifically that there are 4 of them.

My stream’s been buffering more than usual, so I went “like mother, like daughter” before Naofumi did…

It would’ve ben massively funny to hear Melty call Malty either “Trash” or “B****”…especially the last one, because that’s always a fun way to end a sentence (especially for a girl as young as her). Update: She does, but the way she does it isn’t as funny as I thought it would be (and she doesn’t end her sentence with her sister’s new name).

Wait, I thought they got rid of her slave pact??? I thought it was only for the duration of her trial that she needed it for.

L’Arc and that lady seem like they’re foreshadowing for later…hmm. Update: The next-episode synopsis says “yes”. So does that new visual.

Sarazanmai 9

I can’t believe this show’s almost over…That means I gotta get a move on with RobiHachi, but to be honest? Non-anime things are probably going to kep me busy until…a few days from now. So I’ll get RobiHachi watched then.

Characetrs are dying en masse in this episode, aren’t they??? I saw a spoiler that (well, SPOILER) Chikai’s gonna die, but I don’t know about Enta or Keppi…Update: To be honest, I thought Chikai was going to become the next monster – a gun monster, perhaps. Maybe now that I’ve finished the episode, he’ll become a real zombie. (Hey, see what I did there with the bolding…? How’s that for hiding spoilers, eh???)

Oh yeah…I forgot Enta’s sister was Kazuki’s teacher…

There was a sign behind Masa that said”Hinode Asakusa” – “hi no de” meaning roughly “under the sun” or “leaving the sun”.

Tokarev…? The gun? Gun monster, maybe? Is this a critique of the American gun…(exaggerated voice) Nah, can’t be…this is Japanese.

Lionel…Lionel…for some reason, that name in relation to soccer seems familiar...I just can’t put my finger on who it reminds me of, though. Update: Is it, perhaps, Messi…? Yes, I think that’s the guy I was thinking of…!

Aw…I’m not crying, you are…But these words were running through my head before Toi chucked the bag of money away and yelled, “F***!”: “Everything I do, I do it for you.” Isn’t that cute…?

Bungou Stray Dogs 34

“…one by one?” Junban means “sequentially”, so I don’t see why you have to use the phrase “one by one”. Or “one at a time” would also work.

Hardbank…to contrast Softbank (a phone company in Japan).

Face-stealing aliens strike again…(re: Atsushi)

Oh flip. This reminds me of my Kunikida fic…yeah, I bet you don’t remember it.

Hey, this dude! Apparently he’s from one of Kunikida’s stories. I really am approaching the end of what I know of canon…*gulp* Update: Oops, we already passed that part…

I wonder if the real Fyodor could play cello…? Or is this just a thing to make him ominous and villanous…?

The cross on the wall behind Kunikida…makes this show more like Eva than Kekkai Sensen…exquisite. Absolutely exquisite, isn’t it?

Another cool cross, behind Tanizaki!

What’s a tatamigatana? Also, I didn’t know other people could be synchronised using Doppo Poet and Ranpo’s deduction…

Does Kouyou mean (by “the one I most despise”)…Chuuya? Or herself? It’s definitely not Ace.

Kimetsu no Yaiba 10

Headpats for Yushiro as well! Headpats for everyone!

There’s a lot of Tanjiro being terrified in this episode…

Wait…Kizuki? I thought they were the 12 Moons? (Well, “tsuki” means “moon”, but then what’s the “ki”?) Update: The “ki” means “demon”, so the Kizuki are the 12 Demon Moons.

Being alone with the body…that’s always a scary thought in murder mysteries…for the people who dissect them to determine the cause of death, that is.

Considering the name of the episode is “Together Forever”…nup, I don’t see Nezuko and Tanjiro separating anytime soon…

The Kasugai crow is what happens when you can’t turn off your Google Assistant…or GPS…or Siri.

If Tanjiro knows the name of his crow, how do the crows get their names? Do their trainers (is that the right term for a crow breeder in this case…?) give them names?

OPM S2 Ep 9 (Ep 21)

LOL, that one shot of the ants…JC Staff really don’t care about this series, do they…?

I kinda forgot about Genos after a bit more than a week…sorry, I was watching other anime in between. (More than usual, at least. I started playing Chibi Tamago – a forum game for AniList where you collect badges for watching anime - that’s why.)

Did he (Pri-Pri Prisoner)…store his phone in his butt…?