#and whilst we found some that had potential (and would be worth seeing if this one doesnt work out) we didnt find anything we liked MORE

[chesacakeripper]

Second Viewing for the house we like the most in a couple hours //aaaaaaaaa

[techmomma]

whilst I am sick in bed, I want to put something out here before things start getting wild with conspiracy theories about this whole submersible debacle. because I think we will start seeing a lot of conspiracy theories starting up. some irrational, but some rational!

also note that I have no educated experience on these matters, just 33 years of living and a special interest in both the titanic and maritime disasters. so take everything with a grain of salt(water).

and while yes, if they’re dead, I genuinely think every navy and coast guard already knows and has known since like the first three hours since the sub went missing, I also genuinely do not think this was out of malicious or subversive intent, or trying to hide some big secret, and I will explain why:

underwater explosions/implosions make a very characteristic sound. this is called a bubble pulse: multiple booms being the result of initial explosion, followed by water pressure collapsing the gas bubble.

the major powers of the world, certainly the US with SOSUS/IUSS, have underwater listening stations. this is a system of underwater hydrophones and listening devices originally meant to track soviet submarine activity and underwater nuclear tests. this system was already quite powerful in the 60s, and its capabilities by now in the 2020s are classified but likely even moreso powerful. this is not me saying THEY’RE LISTENING TO US AND PUTTING TRACKERS IN US this is me saying “by the early 90s they could track a single whale over the entire Pacific for several years.”

if the submersible imploded--and I am leaning toward it not being built well enough to withstand four days of 375 atmospheres worth of pressure--then this was almost undoubtedly heard by listening stations across the atlantic

so why not tell the public?

despite having declassified much of the program, SOSUS/IUSS still has many parts that remain classified. to reveal that they heard the implosion would be to also reveal potentially delicate information such as station positions (figuring out WHERE a classified station might be based on the fact that it picked up the sound, and figuring out the minimum capabilities of such a system).

we’re already in kind of a weird proxy war with the Russians, again, so the government’s paranoia about not letting anything leak to them Russkies is, again, at an all-time high. I will state though that classified information is actually like, at the bottom of my list of “reasons why they may not have said anything immediately.”

this is an incredibly... unique situation. while I have no doubt they heard the implosion, they may not have been able to concretely confirm that it was an implosion, and an implosion of a civilian submersible, until after the story of the missing sub had already gotten out to the public. one of those “it looked like a duck and quacked like a duck so I’m pretty sure it was a goddamn duck, but I technically need to run tests to make 100% certain that it was in fact a duck, because if I’m wrong that could mean big trouble.”

in addition, to 100% confirm an implosion, typically the debris field has to be actually spotted on the sea floor, in addition to all the previous criteria being met. they have been trying to find a debris field... in a bigger, messier debris field.

they need to do this, because if there’s even a .0000000001% chance that they are still alive and you left them for dead, that would be... bad, for a lot of reasons

because the debris field has not been found and there IS a .0000001% chance that they could be alive, they still need to TREAT it as a rescue operation. this is standard procedure for like. everywhere.

even if they WERE still alive, they were going to die. every rescue party out there right now knows this. just planning to recover debris from that depth often takes months if not years of planning, let alone a sub about to run out of air in four days, max. in these situations, where the rescuers know the victims are alive but will, without fail, die, you have to still TREAT IT as if they are able to be saved (while also, quietly, making sure no one else is going to be further hurt). for the sake of the victims, their families, and the public at large. for the basic dignity of the victims. yes, out of compassion.

a comparable situation is when an EMT arrives to the scene of a traffic accident and knows, immediately, that this person, while not technically dead, is absolutely not going to make it. the EMT is still going to attempt to do everything they can to save that person, for their dignity and for the slim chance that maybe, by some miracle, they can help. you don’t give up until you know they’re actually dead. this is standard procedure and also like. a basic human compassion thing.

this is also likely why, if you’ve been watching any news about this, we’ve not seen any illustrations of “potential ways to rescue the sub,” or how authorities think they might do it, only diagrams and illustrations of where the sub might be or the depth it might be at. ideas have been floated around, but nothing concrete. because there is nothing concrete. at least, that’s what I’ve seen but that’s probably confirmation bias.

so yeah. in the coming days or years or whatever, I think it’ll come out that rescuers have known all along what happened and kept that little part quiet. but I also think it’s for the most boring, mundane reasons possible: standard procedure technicalities and human compassion while having to navigate a sticky situation between the media and the public.

[taradactyls]

Discussion of Darcy's wealth and potential present/future savings endnote from Chapter 34

DARCY FINANCIAL MATHS AS PROMISED!

(Featuring videos from Ellie Dashwood because she really broke all this down so well and I want to focus more on the compound interest side of things)

His estate generates ‘A clear ten thousand per annum,’ which means profit, not only revenue. Depending on how old Wickham’s knowledge is, it’s likely more. I started typing why, but then found a video which does it better and includes sources:

For context of HOW rich he is, you might’ve seen the estimate that it’s worth £300,000/y+ today based on inflation. But expenses haven’t increased the same way, so it lacks nuance. I AGAIN started explaining his place in society but deleted it since I found another video from the same youtuber:

I’m not affiliated with the channel or anything btw, this is a genuine recommendation. Spoilers, I knew he was in the top 600 richest Britons, but it’s closer to top 300. I will add that we can also do a modern comparison with wages. A manservant (except butlers) in 1811 would be THRILLED with £30/y. That’s too high to be equivalent to minimum wage, but it’ll do for the maths. Darcy earns over 333x that, (and again, more for poorer people). A full-time minimum wage income in the UK today seems to be about £22,000/y, which means the comparative income for Darcy is OVER £7million/y. It’s not a perfect modern equivalent, but helps show why even rich characters (and the Bennets ARE rich) view him so impressively.

Since that level of rich really don’t need to worry about economy or expenses unless they’re INCREDIBLY foolish (looking at you, Sir Walter) or doing something unapplicable here like gambling, lavish entertainments, keeping up at court, etc, this is really only exploring compound interest and general ideas of saving. For a more nuanced take on expenses, here’s a breakdown of household costs for people up to Bingley’s level that I read years ago: https://susannaives.com/wordpress/2015/12/cost-of-living-in-1823/ . It’s from 1823, so not a 1:1 for P&P, but still good, and particularly see the £2,000 entry for a clearer idea of the Bennets’ finances. Also note it recommends incomes of £1,000+ save 10% for emergencies/savings. As a quick refresher, if the Bennets saved £200/y (a little less than 10%), over 23 years at 4%, even if interest of that original £5,000 settled on Mrs Bennet is spent annually, that’s an extra £7,324 around the time of the novel. Compounding interest, my beloved.

SO, Darcy has been master of Pemberley for 5 years, we’ll stick to £10,000/y and ignore extra investments and government bonds. Though his dad definitely had some extra spare cash when he died, since he left £1,000 to Wickham and Darcy was able to give him another £3,000 within 6 months, but let’s be conservative and say Darcy had £0 in savings (he wouldn’t) after that. Let’s also ignore anything from Lady Anne.

But Georgiana’s £30,000 is a tangible amount: which will have generated £6,500 at 4% or £8,288 at 5% since their dad died. Her expenses will presumably come from that profit, but that’s still easily an extra £5,000. Depending on the will, this could be in a trust for Georgiana, in which case the interest accumulates, or Darcy has possession of it until she either marries or reaches 21. I lean towards the latter, as he’s specific about her fortune being £30,000, as opposed to ‘at least £30,000’ which would be more accurate if it was presently increasing.

It makes sense smart and responsible Darcy saves a respectable amount of his income (which seems to be at least 10%, and the richer you are the easier it is to live well whilst still saving a lot), so let’s see how that looks after 5 years in the 5%s with different amounts. Not saying these are what he would choose to save, just playing with maths: £1,000/y saved = £5,526 £1,500/y = £8,228 £2,000/y (which, fyi, would likely only happen if we’re including the extra investments he would have) = £11,051

And you can probably add £5,000 to those from Georgiana, and then subtract about £3,000 for bribing Wickham.

Marrying Elizabeth might not change his expenses much: he needs to support his wife, but he’s also spending more time at Pemberley, which is cheaper than travelling around the country and staying often in town. It also increases the need for savings for when/if they have children. Let’s see what they might save after 18ys (when a daughter might marry). With those previous numbers and consistent savings, we get: £1,000/y = £46,182 £1,500/y = £66,746 £2,000/y = £87,551

Remember this isn’t taking into account inflation which increases his income, savings his own dad certainly had (the estate was well-managed in his time and with only two kids Darcy would’ve inherited more than just the estate), money from Lady Anne, extra investments, etc. Darcy is RICH rich and even if his and Elizabeth’s daughters might never have £30,000 apiece, depending on how many there are, it still could’ve been possible.

[envihellbender]

Tristan/Atlas scenarios

Rating: Mature

Fandom: Atlas Six

Characters: Tristan Caine, Atlas Blakely

Content: character death x2, canon divergent, noncon, high school au, reference to caning

Summary: A series of scenarios from alternate universes regarding Tristan Caine and Atlas Blakely.

Scenario 6

“Mister Caine,” a voice said snapping Tristan up from his laptop. He was sat in his Father’s pub, looking over the books and all the other boring grunt work the Witch King of Crime left to keep Tristan busy. The man made it clear from the beginning that any ability his son had was useless to him. In response, Tristan also made it very clear he wanted to leave, it was clear no one wanted him there for one thing. However, Adrian was very good at keeping a tight grip on Tristan and had done so for so long he didn’t even know why he did any more. Back to the present however Tristan’s work was interrupted by the sudden appearance of a man far too well dressed for the environment he found himself in.

“Can I help you?” Tristan asked, visibly confused. Beyond the sneers and free drinks no one gave him a second thought in this establishment and he liked it that way.

“I have a proposition for you,” the man said simply, seemingly oblivious to everyone around them who couldn’t help but stare.

“You want my father-” Tristan began before Atlas raised one hand dismissively and shook his head.

“I have no use for Adrian Caine, you’re the one I need.” The man pulled out a chair and sat cautiously perched keeping his hands off of the sticky table.

“You… What’s your angle, mate?” Tristan couldn’t believe a wealthy stranger simply would approach him as if he was someone who was worth a single thought.

“Ah, I haven’t introduced myself, have I? Atlas Blakely, of the Alexandrian society.” He spoke very simply yet with far more gravitas than Tristan was used to.

“Never heard of it,” Tristan mumbled. He looked down at his laptop and frowned, he wanted to be alone more than ever, certainly not looked down on by some wealthy man from a secret society.

“Hardly a surprise, we are a group of the best, most intelligent medians in charge of the biggest archive of the world’s knowledge, anything else I cannot divulge outside of the institute.”

“You must have me mixed up with someone else, mate.”

“I assure you, I don’t.” Atlas sighed and leaned forward - his words were becoming intense alongside his stare. “You have abilities I’ve not seen before, I think there is potential inside of you. No matter what disguise anyone would wear, anyone in the world you’d see exactly who they were underneath it. You could be working for an intelligence agency, you could crack codes, anything. I wish to simply take you in before anyone else sees what you’re worth.”

“I- thats one hell of a speech.” Tristan was visibly taken aback and embarassed. He felt so horrifyingly perceived. Atlas slipped a card from his pocket and left it next to Tristan’s laptop.

“My invitation has been extended, whether you accept it is up to you. Nice to meet you, Mister Caine,” Atlas said rising to his feet, leaving Tristan to stare at him as he left like he was a baffling hallucination.

Scenario 8a

“You can’t kill Atlas,” Callum had said that morning, the words teasing and coquettish, almost. He told Tristan that whilst they were in bed together, his bare chest against Callum’s naked warm back. Tristan had insisted he could, Callum simply pointed out that Tristan hadn’t been able to murder him. Now, he was stood in Atlas’s office staring face to face with the man who as far as Tristan could tell, was a body for the Library. Now it turned out Libby hadn’t been sacrificed, they had to get rid of someone. It made sense that they chose the one who had been responsible for dragging the powerful young adults with god complexes under one roof and playing mind games with them for two years. Tristan didn’t bother to pretend there was any other reason for him coming into Atlas’s office, he was fully aware that Atlas knew. There was no need to insult either of their intelligence.

“Mister Caine,” Atlas said simply staring at the silent Tristan who had been stood there trying to build up the courage to act. Were Atlas not a telepath he might have been quite baffled by the whole affair. “I think it may be best you do not act on what you have mistakenly convinced yourself needs to be done.”

“The Library needs bodies. Yours being one of them,” Tristan said simply. “You ducked out of the murder once, remember? And shit followed your fellow initiates everywhere they went their entire lives as a result.”

“Rumours. Nothing of the sort happened.”

“Why can’t it be you? The one we kill.”

“I never said it couldn’t be.”

“Good, then you’ll go down without a fight.”

“I didn’t say that-” Atlas began, only to be interrupted by a click and a loud blast that caused Tristan to grow disoriented, his ears aching as a ringing sound filled them. When he managed to look back he saw Atlas was face down on his desk, his skull blown open with bits brain lodged into the cracks on Atlas’s vintage desk. There was a large bloody hole on the side of the man’s temple, the golden bullet visible in his shaved head, nearly lodged into the skull. Behind Atlas stood Callum with a smirk on his face.

“I was going to do that! I just wanted to talk to him first,” Tristan snapped, his hands holding onto his ears and a scowl carved into his face. “Fuck! Why didn’t you use a silencer? Shit, you might have fucked up my ear drums.

“Took too long,” Callum shrugged, seemingly oblivious to Tristan’s pain but the wince in his eyes and tensing of his limbs showed that he felt every second. “Who’s next?”

“Next is Rhodes’ ex-boyfriend,” Tristan mumbled. “Then hopefully the Library will…”

“Accept you as it’s Lord and saviour?” Callum suggested, with a sly smirk.

“Fuck you.”

Scenario 8b

Mister Caine. What do you think you’re doing?

The words shot through Tristan’s mind like an icicle through his temples. Atlas hadn’t shown this ability before, he could see into minds not place thoughts into them. Or so Tristan thought. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and tried to empty his mind.

Do you think that gun will take me down, Mister Caine?

“Snap out of it, ignore him,” Tristan muttered. He hadn’t even reached Atlas’ office yet. Callum was already there, a distraction of sorts he supposed. The voice in Tristan’s head told him how well that was going.

Don’t worry, Mister Nova is quite safe. He thinks he’s untouchable. It’s amusing.

Tristan felt his heartbeat in his ears, but it didn’t cover Atlas’s barbed thoughts. He felt his footsteps vibrate through his body, the noise and sensation. His breathing grew heavier and stronger as he reached the handsome oak door, one hand reaching for the brass handle.

Do you think you and Mister Nova can take me?

This time the thought was highlighted with a laugh, one that was filled with pity and amusement. Tristan slammed the door open, he saw Callum sat on a chair opposite Atlas. Tristan was surprised to see he was dressed in one of his favourite suits. A dark purple fabric, a silver shirt, bespoke leather shoes dyed a dull silverish grey, and with one leg over the other, Tristan could see Callum had forgone socks. His pale ankles were at the centre, the first thing the eyes went to. The whore, Tristan thought in amusement.

“You’d think a telepath wouldn’t double book,” Callum remarked before anyone greeted each other.

“Mister Caine, can I help you?” Atlas said coldly. His eyes piercing through Tristan’s chest almost causing his heart to stop. Callum’s feet were both on the floor now, one hand in the table and his gaze was searching through Atlas’s body for anything useful. He decided to turn down the aspect that wanted to kill Tristan or at least stop himself from being killed. He upped Atlas’s recklessness, and added in an extra few tablespoons of wanting to kill Callum instead.

“Don’t mind him, he’s just the jealous type.” Callum’s joke either went over everyone’s head or they were not in the mood for such frivolity. Tristan let out a pained gasp and winced, Callum turned back to Atlas with a scowl. “Forcing a horrible memory into his mind isn’t very unsporting.”

“He’s showing me how he plans to kill you,” Tristan said through his teeth.

“Yes, well, even the family gardener thinks about killing me, I wouldn’t worry,” Callum said dismissively. Atlas stood up, kicking out the chair from behind him. Callum smirked, that restlessness was about to pay off.

“Do you know why you want to kill me? Is it a thought that came from you or someone else?” Atlas asked, turning his head to the left side as he spoke.

“I’d know if someone implanted something in my head, I’m not like you,” Tristan replied in a low voice. Atlas didn’t go for Tristan as expected, instead in a swift movement he used an ability he’d clearly been working on for a very long time. He shifted the room so that Callum was in his arms. Atlas’s hand tightened in Callum’s hair and making a fist, he bent the young man’s spine bend back on itself to use him as a human shield. However, seeing Callum be manhandled, seeing his eyes going wide and empty, seeing his body panic as he went as limp as a rag doll… Tristan gave three shots. Two hit Atlas in the face, one missed. When Callum gingerly got to the floor, coated in blood, viscera, and bits of brain, his ears were still ringing and aching.

“You could’ve shot me,” Callum said, in a strange mixture of anxiety, shock, and arousal. “You were extremely close to shooting me.”

“I know. But I didn’t,” Tristan shrugged, his eyes not leaving the corpse on the office floor.

Scenario 8c

When Tristan watched Atlas Blakely enter his flat, he wondered if he knew what was about to happen. Atlas had a wary look about him, ever since Tristan had opened the door he was looking over his shoulder and seemed… Off, somehow. In fact, Tristan was sure in fact that it wasn’t Atlas at all, it was … an animation? He thought. He’d never seen it before and thought they were just a myth… Regardless, it was a form of magic that he knew his father wouldn’t see through. Tristan couldn’t help but steal a quick glance at the cameras watching them. It was a terribly kept secret that Adrian Caine had devices and people specifically placed and hired for spying on his children. Tristan couldn’t help but admire the animation posing as Atlas that had been sent to him. They made small talk for a little while, Tristan pretended to be interested in his society, and Atlas’ animation gave a few stock answers that seemed real enough. Tristan offered him a whiskey, Atlas said he didn’t drink. That was another reason Adrian Caine hated the man, probably, Tristan thought.

“I am sorry about this you know,” Tristan said eventually, and the fact that when he slipped a gun from the waistband of his trousers and shot Atlas Blakely in the forehead with little to no reaction was the final confirmation what Tristan had seen from the second he opened the door. The real Atlas Blakely was a telepath, he’d have known Tristan’s intentions immediately and dealt with him. Clearly the man had suspected Tristan and Adrian’s plan and sent an animation in his place to test the waters. It didn’t matter to Tristan, his father got his little show. He downed his whiskey, deliberately avoiding the bleeding mess sat on his favourite armchair.

“There you go, dad, it’s done,” Tristan said solemnly as he toasted into the closest camera.

Scenario 15

“Do you know why you’re here, Mister Caine?” The Headmaster asked, Tristan sat on the other side of his desk, his arms folded and scowling at his scuffed trainers. As Tristan regularly told his friends, Atlas Blakely had a “hard-on” for him. Whatever Tristan did, for some reason the man had an opinion on it whether it was good or bad. Apparently that extended to the area under the water tower where him and his friends hung out after school.

“Nope,” Tristan answered, it was a lie but as far as he was concerned he’d done nothing wrong on school grounds.

“You, Mister Nova, and Miss Komali, were spotted smoking-”

“Outside of school,” Tristan interrupted. Atlas frowned, people didn’t interrupt him.

“You were wearing your school uniforms, thus associated with the school.” Atlas had a proud smirk on his lips, as if it was the ace up his sleeve he’d just revealed.

“So are Callum and Parisa going to be brought to the Headmaster’s office or is it just the lad from Bethnal Green who gets that treatment?” Tristan asked pointedly, he knew it wasn’t a class thing - he could hear the east end in Atlas’s voice even if he desperately tried to hide it. However, until Atlas admitted he wasn’t the toff he pretended to be, he was going to play whatever cards he had.

“Mister Caine,” Atlas responded, Tristan hated the way his lips curled around his name. It sent a chill up his spine. “I assure you Mister Nova and Miss Parisa will be brought to me. This is nothing to do with your upbringing.”

“Just feels like I get singled out a lot.”

“Mister Caine.” Tristan winced, the exact same tone like he was about to be swallowed whole again. “You have potential, something I do not wish to see squandered. You know full well that had the police caught you smoking marijuana Mister Nova would have gotten off Scott free, and Miss Komali’s connections would’ve ensured it was-”

“Weren’t smoking weed,” Tristan interrupted. A lie, but something that may help his case a little that Atlas couldn’t disprove. “They were just regular cigarettes.”

“I- I was told it was clearly an illicit substance,” Atlas said indignantly. He had a stammer and his smirk faltered, Tristan took delight in that.

“Well, they were wrong. Your source either made it up or made a mistake,” Tristan shrugged. He had a small smile on his lips. He knew full well Atlas was having him followed but he could hardly admit it.

“Fine, if you insist.” Atlas had an irritated scowl which Tristan couldn’t help but feel a little smug about. “You have had your first warning, Mister Caine. If you are found to be smoking either cigarettes or something else I will have to inform your father. However, for now, we can settle this in house for now. Do stand up, won’t you?”

“Yes, sir,” Tristan responded curtly, getting to his feet and reluctantly unfastening his belt as Atlas stood and retrieved his cane.

[bouncingbluebeast]

Ah, the sprightlyness of youth! Even just a scant score ago, and the memories of such leaps and bounds filled his heart with nostalgia - even as he bounced in a variety of ways down the road. He felt his hands shaking his own and gladly took in the younger Defender for a quick brotherly hug.

"Ha-HA! Oh, 'Right joyous are we to behold your face, Most worthy brother Beast; fairly met!' A butchering of the Bard whilst you deal with Strange's solemn sonnets about our 'dimensions-next-door'."

Seeing the Bouncing Blue Henry make himself at home on the table with tea as he regaled his tale of travel, Hank nods at the observations. He chuckles to himself at the beaming vivacity and humor of his younger counterpart. It was something between fond nostalgia and validation - a past worth remembering for himself, and a future worth fostering for him.

"Well, you might call this Other-Brotherworld, if prior naming conventions suited Stephen's taste, but I've found 'New York' to fit just fine. Just outside the bustling metropolis in a lovely bunker laboratory beneath the Xavier Institute, if you'd believe it. Naturally, the decor is still in transit and the saucy self-portrait gold-plated fountain won't be installed for another three weeks!"

He gives the younger Hank an exaggerated wink at the little joke. The Beast hopped up to the laboratory's "monkey bars" with a "Hup!" and swings his way over to a refrigerator, a ponderous pendulum precipitating proper responses as he rifled through the cupboard contents. Landing with a flip and a wider stance, there was still some of the acrobatic flair he couldn't help but replicate to show off to his younger self.

Turns out this old bear's still got it...

Hank shifts his weight in his hips as he tries to decide what snack to pair with the tea, his comfortably snug X-Men boxers riding juuuuust right.

He strains to recall if he'd enjoyed a fruit trifle back in the day, but it certainly couldn't hurt! Edna had always raised him right to offer treats with tea: "to lift the spirits and ground the mind", she'd say.

"As for When, you'll find yourself after the turn of the 21st century, golden boy!"

Spooning out three portions, he juggles the three bowls to his chest with two spoons and leapt onto the reinforced table - punctuating the answer with a solid THUD. It would potentially cause a slight bounce up from the springing Henry and a small quake over his own form as he settles.

"I suppose you could say tenure as a professor sits well with me, or I sit very well as a professor!"

He pats his soft middle with a guffaw and takes in a spoonful of the trifle - strawberries, blueberries and cream with angel-cake - then gestures a spoon to Earth's Wittiest Defender,

"Now what about you, old boy? I'm certain we have time to chat whilst the transporter recharges. What's keeping you busy in your days; cracking jokes along with supervillain skulls? Brand Corporation giving you a run for employee of the month? Bouncing around with any bosom-companions?"

He waggles his eyebrows playfully at that last one.

"Ah, but you'll have to forgive the bombardment. It's nice to reminisce from my perspective - compare notes on what was or what could have been, as it were..."

It was something to behold when an interdimensional transport device went wrong - or in this case, went just right. The din of space warping around the ears had faded into a low hum, the gateway looking more reminiscent of something from Stargate than a typical prototype. Perhaps this world's Dr. Henry McCoy would be able to enlighten as to what his inspirations were.

This Hank McCoy's laboratory is familiar, yet foreign in a few key ways. The ceiling barframes have been reinforced, with sections that include hanging seats that swing along a rail track - like a zip line or a jungle vine. A second refrigerator sits on the opposite side from the one used for storing samples, medical pouches, and other materials. A quick perusal of the second fridge reveals it stocked with various snacks and drinks; twinkies (always nice to know that seems a universal constant), fruit slices, berries, cheeses, crackers, pickles, sandwich meats and other low-effort finger foods. The computer terminal setup is largely unchanged, save for a much larger desk chair with wheels. There were...tokens amidst his counterpart's implements of scientific progress. A few empty mugs left out that read cheesy phrases like "World's Bluest Scientist" or "Big PhD Energy". There was a sense that, while clinical, this lab was lived in...and not just by Hank.

Echoing off the walls, a tell-tale voice hummed along to a portable radio to Britney Spears' "Oops! I Did It Again". Following the sound and the partially sung lyrics would lead to a large blue form underneath a table of wires, cable and plating. A round, soft belly rose and fell spread out over thick thighs clad in similar black-and-yellow shorts and a partially opened suit which gave him breathing room. Sparks occasionally came out from underneath the paneling in rhythm with Miss Spears' "Oh, baby baby". Hearing some footfalls approach, but not looking out to see whom, a clawed hand-paw reaches out from underneath and grabs at the open air expectantly. Whether he is provided the tool he needs is up to the charity of a visitor.

"Hello? Just a moment, I'm almost finished this adjustment and...ah! There we are."

The panel closes with a creak and a substantially larger and softer McCoy rolls out from under the panel with his mechanic's dolly. His eyes widen slightly at his counterpart's presence, saying the ever familiar "Oh my stars and garters...well, I suppose I'd neglected to check if the test process had finished."

A grunt as he sat up led to this Hank standing eye-to-eye, adjusting his spectacles and lifting up a welding shield lens he'd affixed. His eyes are bright yellow with dark irises, semi-dilated in fascination and acclimating to the light. He proceeds to examine more closely, asking questions as though to assess injury,

"Any feelings of molecular instability? Lightheadedness? Nausea? Dissociation or partial loss of sense of self? Terribly sorry if you were dragged through unawares, my friend! I'm Hank McC- oh, I suppose you'd know that already. Well, if you're in need of care or answering questions, I'm your man! May I offer you - me? us??- some tea?"

Hank had already moved for a thermos on a nearby table and began pouring out some steaming earl grey. A lot of things change, but some stay the same...

(@positivelybeastly)

[not-alien-girl-v]

hii! could i request a cooper day fluff? maybe reader and coop are friends and end up confessing their feelings for each other whilst listening to music in his room (bc i feel like that fits with his vibe)

thank u 💕

warning: language

summary: short short wholesome read the ask because that’s what happens in this. not edited and reader is strong willed and ultimately mecore

“she’s so right, nothing does compare to a quiet evening alone with you,” i taunted at him. i’m not really sure how this came about, me and him, being as close of friends as we are.

i can’t even remember when we first met, he was just around a lot, and eventually we grew some type of bond between one another. for instance, we had the same taste in music and fashion, which is enough to base a friendship off of.

crushcrushcrush by paramore played over his cd player and he had settled into his bed with a graphic novel of some sort, something worth teasing him over due to how nerdy it was, and in the meantime, i found myself on the floor of his bedroom, for whatever reason, it was more comfortable than his cheap desk chair, so i didn’t mind it too much.

the day has come and passed us yet, a doctors appointment in the morning and a dinner with his family i had to endure until it was just us alone together again, as we so often are these days.

“is it?” he responded rather weakly, obviously not really hearing me. i know i tend to talk too much about anything and everything, and he does try his best to hear me out for what i really mean, but at the moment he was too invested in the book he held.

“yeah,” i collected myself up off the floor and stretched out my limbs wide into the air like a star. he stole a quick glance my way but acted as though he didn’t. back to his book went his eyes.

i came closer to him, sitting on the side of his bed and carelessly laying back, resting on his blanket covered middle.

“ow, you’re squishing me,” he whined and poked my forehead but i refused to break.

“oh deal with it, you big baby,” i stared up at the ceiling where there wasn’t anything, no decorations, just the barren white color the rest of his walls are painted, and you would be able to see had he not put posters wall to wall everywhere else. i was about to point it out to him, ask him why he chose to do that, seriously, i was on the verge of spewing the words from my mouth when he beat me to it.

“do you really like hanging out with me that much?” he didn’t look up from his book but i sensed he was jittery.

“huh?”

“when you quoted the lyrics in the song. is it true? do you really like being around me all the time?”

“of course,” the room was cold and it was autumn so there was good reason for it.

he fell silent and i let him.

“why, do you not?” i sat up and made direct eye contact, like i was about to scold him for his potentially negative answer.

“no, i do, trust me, i do.” he still wouldn’t look up from his book so i decided to break out my best attention grabbing tactics.

“so, are we in love now, or what?” never breaking eye contact once, he didn’t look away.

“well i know i am, i don’t know about you.”

my own plan worked against me. now i was the one bamboozled. “wait what?”

“you heard me.” i could not stand this for a second longer so i ripped the book out of his hands and placed it open face down on the sheets next to me, ensuring he wouldn’t lose his place.

his hands now empty, he sat up. “i’m serious. i like you. i really hope you like me too, since things are gonna be weird if you don’t, but if you don’t, it’s fine, you don’t have to.”

“wait, no, i do. i like you too, yeah, i just, i don’t know, i didn’t know if this was like… that kind of thing, what we have. i thought it was more we just stay friends for years and ignore whatever else is happening between us,” i rambled to him and he reached out and grabbed my hand to hold in his.

“i wanna be more if you wanna be more.”

i nodded, happily, with a stupid big smile on my face, “yeah, yeah, i’d like that a lot, actually. so, what? do we like make out now or something?”

he shrugged, “maybe,” and picked up where he left off in his graphic novel. i laughed and shoved his shoulder, laying back down. what an asshole.

[finelinevogue]

he’s so vogue

Description - you are the journalist for the new Harry Styles December Vogue Issue

A/N - how is everyone doing? hope you enjoy! if you have any requests please feel free to ask. love you all and have a lovely rest of the week!

warnings: swearing

[masterlist]

Being a journalist for Vogue was probably the biggest flex you could ever make.

After 3 years of studying English Literature at Surrey University, you never thought, only a year after, you'd be working as an apprentice at Vogue UK. If it weren't for your Aunty, who worked in the fashion design section at Vogue HQ, then you'd no doubt still be a broke-ass, single, lonely student. Ok, lonely you still were but your job was so full-on that you didn't have time for a relationship.

Two years into your apprenticeship you were promoted to an official member of the team, and then another two years later you got promoted to team leader in your department of journalism, and editing; The Media - or as you like to call it - "The Celeb Goss". You were beyond happy with your job and found such passion in every article your wrote. Whether it be about a new celebrity romance or the collapse of one, you found a way to story-tell in such a meditated way that everyone loved your pieces.

That's why the Harry Styles had requested you to be the one to interview him.

Of course you'd written about A-list celebrities in the past, producing articles on pregnancy rumours, or engagements, or breakups, but you'd never met them before authoring an article. You'd met plenty of D-list celebrities who thought they were mega famous, but if you mentioned their names people would turn around and ask "who?".

This is why interviewing Harry Styles was a massive thing for you.

Not very often did you get to do work out in the field, especially in these covid infested days, but nevertheless it was your favourite part of the job. Getting to meet the people you were writing about was completely refreshing, allowing you to obtain a clearer outlook on which direction to take on your journal piece.

You were asked to go to Stonehenge, where the photoshoot was being filmed, as your office of interview. Even though you'd lived in the UK all your life, you'd never actually been to Stonehenge. It wasn't really on your bucket-list, but it was a pleasure to get to see it all the same.

Being the prepared interviewer you were, you'd prepared an array of questions that you were set on asking Harry. You'd never met him before, but after much googling and youtubing of him prior to meeting him today you would already be confident in saying he's the most brilliant man to ever exist. You were really nervous that you were going to screw this interview up and make a terrible mess in front of Harry Styles.

"Lisa! What if I accidentally say something I shouldn't?" You ran your stressed hands through your hair.

This whole morning had been frantic. It had started off by you waking up late, no thanks to Lisa, your best-friend and co-worker, pressing snooze on the alarm. You wanted to look professional today so you'd put on your best shirt - only to spill coffee down it ten minutes later. So now, you smelt of coffee and were wearing what was left in your wardrobe - and it wasn't much. The only things left clean were a pair of pink corduroy flares and some, pastel coloured, graphic t-shirt to go with it.    

"You won't. Stop being so negative." Lisa rolled her eyes, probably fed up with the amount of winging she'd heard from you this morning - and you'd only been awake an hour.

"My outfit is hardly professional either." You huffed, pouring the rest of your, second, coffee down the drain.

"Well I think you look gorgeous." Lisa stated, whilst putting her breakfast bar wrapper in the bin.

You and Lisa were back and forth about you stressing, and such, for about half an hour before you had to leave. You had a great panic about losing your glasses too. You could see without them up close, but for long distance viewing and reading you were practically blind. You were taking Lisa's car, since she didn't think you were emotionally stable enough to drive. Lisa was the creative director on the set, and thank goodness she was so you could at least ramble to someone.

After a two hour drive up from London, you arrived at Stonehenge and it was freezing. Although the sun was out, it did nothing to keep your body heated. The journey up had been nice because you sat in your nicely heated car, chatting away with Lisa and blasting some Harry Styles out of the speaker. You'd made it through the first album, and the second one up to Canyon Moon before reaching your destination.

Upon arriving you could just about, without glasses, make out about 15 other cars, arranged at the bottom of a hill. There was an array of Audis and BMWs, a few Range Rovers, which you placed your bets on one was Harrys, and a green, vintage, Jaguar which was most likely belonging to the fashion editor or something. There was also a modern barn, perched at the foot of the hill, which was where Harry would be getting changed in to his various different outfits.

It took you a moment to register that Lisa had parked and was already clambering out of the car, making you look a little idiotic still blankly staring at the beautiful scenes in front, and around, of you.

But it was still bloody freezing.

You jogged a little to the boot and whipped out your white cardigan. Originally you'd thought that this would've been enough to keep you warm, but now you were starting to think otherwise.

The atmosphere here was amazing. People were rushing around left, right and centre loading, and unloading, various pieces of equipment and clothes. You caught sight of brightly coloured fabrics being carried to and from various places. There were the camera crew, and presumably director, all chatting amongst themselves. The smell of the very fresh air was so lush that you'd forgotten what it smelt like - especially after years in London.

You grabbed your bag from the boot, which had your notes, recording kit and laptop stuffed inside, before locking the car and following Lisa in to the barn.

It was lovely and warm inside - a completely different climate to than the outside. It was as if it was Bali inside and Antarctica outside. Better Bali than Antarctica though.

"Ok. Let's put our stuff down over here and then go find people we need to meet and such." Lisa instructed, you still too in awe of the place to fully comprehend what was going on.

You followed Lisa and you two ended up dropping off your stuff next to some other bags. You took a liking to the purse next to your stuff. Next to your bag, it made yours seem ancient - like it was worth nothing more than a penny. It was luscious and a beautiful baby blue colour. You softly ran your hands over it, finding satisfaction in how smooth and subtle it was.

"Hope you're not planning on stealing that, love." A manly voice appeared from behind you. You whipped around to see who's bag you'd been messing with, and it was just your luck that it was to be Harry Styles'. Of all the people's it could've been it had to be his. 

Perfect.

He looked dashing. He was in black flares and his iconic 'But daddy i love him', t-shirt, along with a huge green anorak. His hair was prettily clipped back with a pink clip, presumably placed there to gave his curls greater volume. In his hand he had a pink toothbrush and you guessed he'd come back over to put it away in his bag - only to find you caressing it instead.

"Oh - no, no. Not at all. I - uh - I just thought it was beautiful." You stammered over your words, choosing them carefully to try and make you look less like an active criminal.

"Mhm." Harry nodded whilst looking you up and down, most likely judging why a peasant like you, in comparison to him, was touching his expensive property. "Well, I love your flares darlin'." Harry looked down at your trousers, his compliment making you blush a little.

"Thank you. That wasn't professional, and neither is my outfit, I know, and I apologise." You added, because you knew that if your boss knew you turned up today the way you did she would give you a right bollocking - and potentially even fire you.

"Never apologise for flares. You look amazing." Gemma perked up, making you feel more self conscious surrounded by all these other beautiful women. Gemma was in a slouchy, knitted, jumper and basic jeans - no doubt all from shops beyond your budget - and yet she looked like a model fit for the runway for Vogue.

"Okay, sorry." You apologised again, to which you, creepily, got the exact same, stern, look from the Styles siblings at the same time.

"My stylist, Harry, introduced me to big pants. He offered whether I wanted to try a pair of flares, and I was like, 'Flares? That's fucking crazy'!" Harry laughed as he told his story, earning a laugh out of you too. "Now they're my favourite item of clothing. Have a whole wardrobe dedicated to them."

"I wish he was joking." Gemma laughed at her brother and his flare obsession.

"Well you do look handsome in them, so I understand why." Your words rolls off your tongue before you could even comprehend what you were saying. Only after you finished your sentence did you completely intake what you'd just said.

"Good start." Lisa giggled to you, before turning to walk over to the coffee station. It was a help-yourself coffee bar and you knew that you were going to bed at least five cups to get over the last five minutes alone. You'd probably drain the station before letting anyone else have any.

"Oh god." You awkwardly mumbled, not daring to see how weirdly Harry would be looking at you, before walking off outside.

You had spent less than 10 minutes here and yet you'd never felt like a bigger clown. Joining the circus had never been so easy.

The outside wind hit you like a powerful leaf blower, and your hair blew around like crazy - most likely compiling into a birds nest on the top of your head.

Today was supposed to be the start of something great. Your hopes were set on a promotion from your written masterpiece, whilst enjoying the company of one of the most handsome, most lovely, most talented men of this century. Those hopes seemed a little too distant now. They seemed to mock you, as if to laugh at how you ever thought you were going to be any more successful. You'd completely, in more ways than one, made a fool of yourself in front of your interviewee, you were so underdressed, you were caught fondling his Gucci purse and you were still bloody cold.

It all felt too unprofessional for a job where professional was practically the driving force of the company.

You leaned against the barn, taking a deep breath to try and calm yourself. You were a master in over-thinking, but unfortunately that wasn't something you could add to your resumé. You let your eyes close and the other senses come alive for a few moments. The sounds of distant sheep and the smell of the cold wind were just two of the senses that allowed you to take a step back for a minute, and breathe.

"Thank you." A voice interrupted you from your attempt of quick meditation. You looked to your left and noticed Harry standing there, still in the same outfit as before.

"I'm sorry?" You asked confused, taking a step away from the barn to considerately pay more attention to him.

"Thank you - for saying I look handsome in flares." He repeated, smirking when he added the second part.

"Oh." Was all you could respond, feeling too embarrassed to take the conversation any further. "I should—" You pointed back to the barn, using it as an excuse to leave before yet screwed up anymore.

"Lisa told me you're the interviewer." Harry added, and it only occurred to you that you'd never actually introduced yourself. "So it's lovely to finally meet you Y/N." He stuck out his hand for your to shake, which you did willingly. His hands were a lot softer than you'd expected.

"Ho... You know my name?" You asked surprised.

"Of course. I also know you're the best writer in Vogue right now." He flattered you, which made you blush. You had a feeling he'd make you do that a lot today.

"Sure." You rolled your eyes as you spoke sarcastically.

"Well I chose you for a reason, didn't I?" He rhetorically asked.

"I mean.. I, well.. I don't know?" You stumbled over your words, making yourself look like a larger fool than you did already. Today was just turning out to be exactly what you didn't want it to be. "Sorry."

"Stop apologising. You do it too often." He told you, nearly making you apologise again but he gave you a jokingly stern look, as if he knew what you were going to say, and so you decided otherwise.

"Harry!" You both turned to see there was a man waving towards you both, but specifically to Harry. "Come get changed!" The same man shouted. Harry lifted his thumbs up, as if to signal he'd be there shortly.

Harry turned back to you and noticed you shiver a little.

"I'll start the interview after I come back from the dressing rooms, yeah?" Harry asked, taking off his, khaki green, trench-coat in the process. He handed it to you before you could oblige against it.

"Wait what?" You confusedly looked down at the coat and back up to Harry.

"Gives me a piece of mind knowing my interviewer isn't going to die of hypothermia before actually interviewing me." He smiled, obviously attempting to crack a joke and you have to admit you did laugh.

"Thank you." You say, before he runs off to where he's being called to.

                                                            ••••

You'd been sat inside for a little while, waiting for Harry to come back. It gave you time to perfect your questions though.

Thinking up questions to ask Harry had been a challenging task, but one that you'd been fully invested in. You loved creating questions to ask him that were going to get to understand him on a deeper level. He was a very private man, and you completely respected that. If you crossed any boundaries, with the questions you'd ask, you would write them out of the interview. You liked to think you hadn't thought up a question that would make him feel uncomfortable though.

Pissing off Harry would be on another level of shame.

"Coat kept you warm?" Harrys voice disengaged you from your notebook.

"Hm?" You asked then replayed what he'd just asked in your mind. "Oh, yes. Thank you very much." You stood up, from where you'd been perched on the floor, picking up your nearly finished green tea as you did so.

Only when you stood up did it come to your realisation that Harry was now in costume. He was dressed in luxury. Each item looked like it cost more than your rent, and that was saddening. He looked rich and luxurious. To be quite honest, you were finding it rather difficult to take your eyes off him.

"You think the outfit is Vogue enough?" Harry asked, striking a few poses, which made you laugh. It was refreshing to see him act so relaxed and carefree, rather than a stuck-up-prick you knew some celebrities to be.

"Completely. I love it!" You exclaimed, appreciating the twirl he did for you.

He was wearing a kilt-like skirt and he looked beyond beautiful in it. Fuck toxic masculinity. Fuck being a manly man - like what does that even mean? Harry was embracing gender fluidity and experimenting the ways in which there was no definitive line between men and women's clothes anymore, and you thought it was marvellous. Revolutionary, for times as politically and socially troubled as these.

You started removing the coat in attempt to give it back to him, but he refrained you from doing so by holding on to your forearm.

"Keep it. I thought we could go outside to start the interview, so you'll be needing that." Harry told you, and you agreed - however reluctantly that was. You couldn't really complain though, because the coat did kept you warm and, what's better, it smelt divine - just like you'd imagine Harry to smell.

"Okay. Thank you. Do you want to go now?" You asked hesitantly, not knowing whether he was busy for someone else right now.

"Whenever you're ready, love." He answered, making you feel more relaxed. He was going at your pace and was making you feel settled - he was even more of a gentleman than people described him to be.

The two of you had walked around the backside of the barn in silence, enjoying the comfort of each other's presence. Well, at least you were. It was a blessing no one was back here. It was just you, Harry and the scenery that surrounded Stonehenge.

You approached a bench and you plopped yourself down on one end, whilst Harry sat on the other. He respected the fact that there was a pandemic going on, and didn't want to make you uncomfortable in any way. You still had your mask on, so Harry had taken that as you were very conscious about the virus - which he admired.

You pulled out your glasses, from the depths of one of the coat pockets, and placed them on your face, probably making yourself look even geekier than you already felt. Today was just one of those days you wished you had good eyes...

You opened your spent notebook, musty pages practically falling apart, and turned to the section of questions you needed for that interview. You were so nervous already and you hadn't even asked anything yet, all because of the previous interactions with Harry today. Your shaky hands shuffled through the pages and you cursed under your breath when you struggled to find what you needed.

"Shoot. Come on." You mumbled quietly under your breath, hoping it would make this terrible situation end faster. You mustn't have been as quiet as you thought though.

"Y/N." Harry's name broke through your clouded mind of self-disappointment.

You looked up at him to see him softly smiling at you, blowing all worries away from you away with the wind. "Yes?" You timidly asked, pushing your wind-swept hair out of glasses - where it'd gotten caught.

"You’re alright, love. You don't have to be professional around me, alright? We're just two strangers having a conversation, to get to know each other, okay?" If his words didn't calm you enough, the soothing sound of his husky voice certainly did.

"But that would mean you asking me stuff too?" You replied, confused at his implications of the phrasing 'getting to know each other'.

"Mhm." Harry nodded his head.

"Oh I don't know Mr Styles, i'm not a very interesting person." You answered as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, pushing your glasses back up the bridge of your nose from where they'd fallen.

"I refuse to believe that." Harry chuckled, making a quick smile appear on your face. "And please call me Harry. Just Harry." He begged, obviously finding it weird you calling him by his professional title. All you wanted, ever, was for your interviewee's to feel comfortable and safe, so if Harry wanted you to call him Harry then so be it.

"Ok, Harry," you sarcastically said, earning a shake of the head on his behalf, "you can ask me a few questions throughout the day." You told him, but you knew he'd struggle to find even two questions when he realises how bland you are.

"Does that mean you only get to ask me a few as well?" Harry smirked, already knowing the answer to that question. Unlike Harry, you had to write an article about today when you got home and so he knew that you'd have to dig as much dirt as possible from him.

"No, sorry. I don't particularly want to lose my job." You paused to look down at your notes, squinting a little as you did to see better. "Okay. Tell me your experience with corona virus."

"Sorry I didn't quite catch that, love." Harry apologised, leaning in slightly to see if he could hear you a second time around.

"Sorry." You looked down to fiddle with your fingers - a habit you'd undertaken when you're embarrassed. "Um..," you cleared your throat, "would you mind if I took off my mask?"

Your timid voice sent tingle down Harrys spine. He didn't think anyone could ever be this sweet. "Not at all, ‘course you can." He replied, again, wanting to make you feel as comfortable as possible.

You hesitantly took off your face mask, feeling like you were in some dramatic movie where they face revealed someone. You kind of liked having the mask on, because, for one, it kept you warm, and for two, you were a little self conscious with how you looked compared to all the other women here today. You shoved the mask in your pocket, with trembling fingers, before looking back down to your notes.

"Woah." You heard Harrys voice being mumbled under the wind. You eyes shot up to his and you noticed him staring right back at you.

"W-what? Is my acne playing up? I knew I should've—" You self-consciously run your hands over the areas you know you got acne. The masks really didn't help when it came to skin care.

"Hey, stop. No. You just... You look beautiful." Harry complimented you, and a roaring blush arose on to your cheeks. You'd never been called beautiful before, and so you were taking the compliment like such a 13-year old.

"Oh, uh, thank you." You awkwardly answered, not really having any other words come to mind in that moment. Harry chuckled under his breath, still keeping eyes on you for some reason.

"Would you mind repeating your last question, I didn't quite catch it?" Harry asked politely.

"Sure. Um, tell me how you've experienced corona virus." You repeated for him, gripping ahold of your pen to start copying what he says and pressing start on your recording device in case you needed it later.

"Well, it's been tedious that's for sure. However, I just want people to be safe and for life to return back to normal, so therefore i've been very MIA for a lot of the time. Keeping to myself mostly. I only went out for hikes or bike rides. All my meetings were online, so it's been very lonely." Harry kept eye contact with your figure the entire time, and if it weren't for you concentrating on writing what he was saying then you'd probably melt away under his gaze.

For such soft eyes he sure was intimidating.

"I presume the loneliness sent you crazy at times." You laughed, because you sure felt that way through lockdown. Curse being single.

"You have no idea." Harry laughed along with you, making you, slowly, feel more at ease.

"Actually, you'd be surprised." You looked at him unsure, before returning down to your notebook.

"Okay then, first question from me," Harrys words made your head shoot up, "How can someone as amazing as yourself be lonely?" He asked and you made a mental tally of how many questions he'd asked.

"Could ask you the very same question, Harry." You slyly replied, avoiding the question by answering with another question. It was a tactic you'd learnt, throughout your years of journalism, when you wanted to dismiss something .

"That's cheating." Harry pointed at you and raised his eyebrows, but you couldn't take your eyes off the big, cheeky, smile perched on his face. You shrugged you're shoulders in defence and returned to your questions. "But you did just call me amazing, so I think i'll let it slide this one time." You blushed, again, when you understood what he meant.

He was amazing though - that was the truth.

"You were in L.A. for the majority of quarantine, am I right to say?" You already knew the answer but your manager had just wanted confirmation.

"Yeah, but L.A. feels like holiday, whereas London feels like home." He answered, which you appreciated. He hasn't got lost in the way that Hollywood could let people. He'd stayed grounded.

"So what did you entertain yourself with during quarantine?" You asked curiously, slightly side-tracking from your pre-written questions - just because you were intrigued (nosey).

"Not much, not to be boring. I ate a lot of bread. I worked out pretty much every day. I wrote quite a bit actually." He used his fingers to pinch his bottom lip, something you'd noticed he did in interviews.

"Does that mean a new album on the way?" Your inner fangirl was screaming at the thought of HS3.

"Can neither confirm nor deny." Harry smirked to himself, like the cheeky bugger he is.

"That's a yes then." You joked, pretending to write it down in your notes.

"You're impossible, you." Harry laughed and shook his head. It made you feel all funny the way you could make him smile like that. You were the source of his happiness for just that moment, and that was enough to make you feel happy for a lifetime - not that he felt the same.

"Next question," you stated, moving swiftly on because you knew you had limited time, "How's your experience with Vogue been so far?"

"Wonderful. Everyone has been so welcoming and that makes it so much easier for me to have fun. It's daunting going at things alone, but i'm getting slowly used to it now." Harry sniffled a little, probably due to the freezing cold weather here.

"Must be strange, not having four best friends around you, all the time, anymore." You stated rather than asked him, sure that he was missing his bandmates. I mean, you were - so he definitely would be.

"Brothers." Harry replied, making you look up at him confused.

"I'm sorry?" You asked, giving him your full attention.

"You said four best friends. Well, actually they're my brothers." His words actually caused a rift in your heart. You could feel it being pulled apart and torn in to two. If you wrote this in to the magazine the fans would have a worldwide passing-away-party.

"Harry." You said softly, slightly tearing up at his words. "God, I swear i'm not normally this emotional." You chest your throat and try to establish your dignity - however there wasn't that much left anymore.

"Oh shut up." Harry looked away obviously trying to hide the fact that he was tearing up too. You laughed at him but didn't draw any more attention to it than you guessed he would've wanted.

"They mean a lot to you then?" You asked, hopefully not treading on any unwanted territories.

"Much more than a lot, yeah." Harry nodded his head, turning it back to face you. He could tell this conversation was now off-the-record because of your closed notebook, your undivided attention towards him and the fact you’d turned off the recording device. He liked being able to look at you, rather than the top of your head. He swore you were the prettiest girl he'd ever seen.

"You still see them often?" 

"Not as often as i'd like. Niall did come around the other week to drop off some old guitars he didn't want anymore, and then we ended up playing around with some music for a bit." He admitted, which stitched your heart back together.

"So does that mean a Narry collab?" You teased, biting your bottom lip in anticipation.

"Narry? You so are a directioner." He laughed along with you.

"And you just avoided my question, therefore there is a song out there written only by you and Niall." You concluded, which shut him up.

This conversation was going a lot better than expected. Certainly a lot better than earlier. You will be permanently scarred by the way you spoke to him and handled his belongings. It was going to haunt you forever - and yet he'd forget about it by tomorrow. Or maybe he wouldn't, which is why you felt the need to apologise.

"Harry?" You asked, clearly indicating this was still a conversation away from the interview.

"Yes Y/N?" He watched you intently, listening to your every word.

"I, um, just wanted to apologise for my behaviour earlier. I was just really nervous to meet you, and to be honest still am. I didn't mean to touch your stuff without your consent and I certainly didn't mean to make you uncomfortable with any of my comments. So, i'm sorry. I can only imagine the awful, yet true, things you must think of me." You rambled really quickly, that you were uncertain whether Harry even caught one word of what you'd says.

"Do you know why I asked for you to interview me Y/N?" Harry asked, which wasn't the first thing you expected him to say after your apology.

"No. I...well Lisa told me it was because I can write well or something." You suggested, not wanting to sound egotistical.

"I mean you do write perfectly, but no." You were intrigued now. "I asked for you because I, and this is not for your magazine, have a secret - but not-so-secret - crush on you." This time it was Harrys turn to blush.

"Harry... you don't have to say that to—"

"I'm not saying it for anything. I sincerely think you are the most delightful, most prettiest, most fucking sweetest person i've ever met." Harry exclaimed, which you were taken aback by. Never, ever, did you think that Harry Styles would proclaim his likeness towards you. Ever.

"Harry don't mess with me, please." You shyly spoke, tilting your head down in disbelief that the Harry Styles was smitten about you.

He shuffled along the bench, stopping a little way from you but close enough to reach out for you. Your heartbeat increased when you noticed his hand move closer towards you. It didn't stop till he reached your face. He took his time, courteously, pushing your hair behind your ear before removing you of your glasses. He held the right-eye frame and slowly pulled the glasses off your face.

Once he'd successfully taken them off he folded them up and placed them alongside your closed notebook.

"Can see those pretty eyes now." He whispered quietly, but loud enough for you to hear.

"Don't lie. They're so dull." You mumbled, lifting your head up slightly. His face was still away from you.

"Not to me they're not." He retaliated, looking deep into your eyes as you did his. "I hate this corona virus."

"Why?" His words were so out of the blue sometimes, it gave you whiplash.

"Because I can't be as near to you as I want to be." Harry told you. And yeah, you hated corona too. It was getting a little laborious now.

"Smooth, Styles." You chuckled. You wondered how many new and weird pick-up lines could be made from covid. 

"I know." He winked, which honestly would have made you throw up if it were any other man on the planet. Somehow, though, Harry just made it seem attractive - along with every other thing that man ever did. "After this, would you like to come back to my house for a cuppa tea?" He asked sweetly, like a five year old asking whether you wanted to play together.

"Okay. Lisa was my ride though." You said more to yourself than anything else, debating on how you'd even get to Harrys. Uber? Taxi? Lisa? Walk?

"I'll drive us, it's fine. I have to drop Gem off, but i'd be more than happy to chauffeur you." Harry kindly offered, to which you were internally screaming about. You were literally, and metaphorically, having a field-day with all this Harry content and interview.

"Are you sure? I don't want to be a burden." You question politely, not wanting to overstep any boundaries - especially in these covid infested times.

"Of course. I wouldn't have offered otherwise." He protested, waving his hand at if to say it was no bother. You were already trying to work out, in your head, how much petrol money you were going to owe him.

"Then i'd be honoured to have a brew with you Harry." You giggled at how cringe you were being, even if this was just your normal self speaking.

"Great." Harry genuinely smiled, teeth and all. "My shoot should take a couple of hours, but feel free to continue to write and journal. I'm looking forward to reading this particular article." He winked at you before standing up.

"Wonder why?" You sarcastically asked, knowing full-well it was due to his exposure of his own feelings towards you. Even though you'd never says anything back you were quite in agreement on how you felt about him, like he did you. He would be a narcissist to say he knew you liked him the same, out loud, but he knew. And you knew that he knew.

"Wonder why indeed." He gave you one last smile before he'd disappeared for the rest of the afternoon, leaving you to digest and relive the past half an hour or so.

Being Harry Styles' crush was probably the biggest flex you could ever make.

                                                          ••••

After Harry had finished up his shoot he was quick to come find you again.

You'd watched parts of his shoot and he looked magnificent. There wasn't a good enough word to describe how amazing he looked. Harry, his stylist, was probably the best stylist out there. His fashion choices were unmatched and you wanted him to be yours. You were not rich enough nor fashionable enough, ironic for working in a a fashion company, to hire a stylist, but you would if you could.

You were so proud to see what he was achieving now as the person that he was. Harry was just being Harry, without the devilish control of shitty managements or ridiculous amounts of PR stunts. Harry was more free than ever, and it definitely showed just how much he was enjoying it.

You were certain that this Vogue magazine would break the internet - his fans were good at doing that. This could be a turning point for many people, with their outdated and ignorant views. There was no room for people with racist or homophobic or transphobic or xenophobic - and the list does go on - views anymore.

You were waiting by the front door of the barn, to catch Harry as he walked past. You caught sight of him in a white robe, presumably to get changed back into his everyday clothes. He looked really pretty in the robe - very domestic actually.

Today had been a good day.

Harry asked you to send over the more specific Vogue questions to him via email, so he could devote more time in to answering them in a lot more depth. You thought he meant you'd be sending them to some PA in his team, but you were shocked to understand he'd given you his personal email.

People were walking back to their cars and packing away the filming kit. You saw Lisa and the director talking to one another, no doubt discussing some in-work gossip.

"You ready?" Harrys voice reminded you that you'd been waiting for him. You looked to see he was back in the same clothes as this morning, only this time without his coat.

"Here?" You offered, having him over the coat once again but he declined.

"Looks better on you anyways." He winked at you, before walking through the car park and to his car. You were very surprised when you found out Harry was the one to own the green Jaguar. You assumed all celebrities drove the Range Rover, but no. The vintage car added to Harrys immaculate vibe and just made him that little bit more hot.

Harry properly introduced you to Gemma, who was equally as lovely as Harry. They were both amazing people and they were crazily alike. From the way they looked, down to the way they phrased their words, they were mistakingly twins. Gemma explained how Anne, their mum, didn't know they were doing this photoshoot and that it was going to be a surprise, which you thought was so cute.

Gemma spilt a lot of gossip on Harry, to which he got very embarrassed over. You learnt that Harrys first word was Cat. You learnt that Harry is godfather to multiple children, which you found heartwarming. You learnt Harry used to be a baker - which was something he elaborated on for a good half an hour. Harry was just a fountain of memories and Gemma was the one sharing them all with you.

The drive back to London was relaxed. You sat in the back, listening to Harry and Gemma pointlessly argue whilst an Arctic Monkeys album played in the background. You forgot that people like Harry drove, and listened to music, just like other regular people. You often misplaced celebrities in society, thinking they had everything done for them but in reality that (often) wasn't the case - at least not for Harry.

Gemma was dropped off quickly before Harry drove to his. It was no surprise that the Styles siblings didn't live too far away from each other. Harrys house was beautiful. Bigger than anything you could ever dream of buying. It was a palace compared to your cupboard-sized house. You were unbelievably jealous. He gave you the tour of the house, showing you where the toilets were, and even his panic room if necessary.

You migrated to the kitchen for a bit, talking about anything and everything. Getting to know the minuscule pieces of information that no-one else was trusted with, made you feel special. Harry made you feel special - even if he weren't meaning to.

Every moment held a spark. Every touch set off a firework. Every laugh was an electric burst. He made you feel so alive.

"We can go to the living room after this has boiled." Harry said, pointing towards the streaming kettle. He wanted to show off his fancy tea collection he had, and let you have a try if you wanted to. Harry was boring and chose the basic green tea, but, after much deliberation, you chose the cranberry green tea. It intrigued you and it sounded delicious.

"Why the extensive tea collection?" Not even you, a certified caffeine addict, had this much tea in your house. Coffee was a different story and one in which you didn't want to talk about.

"They help me with my meditation." He took the teabags and placed them in his glass mugs. They had a delicate Gucci stamp on them, and you just imagined that they probably worth the same amount as your daily salary.

"You meditate?" You were slightly surprised that he did.

"I try to yeah." Harry nodded, focusing on pouring in the boiling water into the mugs. "I've got very tight hamstrings and so it helps if I meditate twice a day."

Harry finished making the tea, in the light-filled kitchen, before showing you around to the open-lounge area. Everything was modern and chic. It was exactly how you imagined it, but better. The open, red-brick, wall was a beautiful feature and one that you were a whore for! It reminded you of New York and the memories you'd made there one summer.

The sofa was a beautiful velvet, green, sofa. It was soft and gentle, a lot like Harry when you thought about it. The whole house was an architectural masterpiece and you'd be lying if you said you weren't jealous. You sat on one end and Harry went to go and sit on the other end.

"I don't bite you know?" You joked, self-consciously wondering whether he didn't want to be sat near you.

"I know, I just don't want to step on any of your covid boundaries - which is perfectly fine by the way." He added, apprehensively taking the spot next to you.

"No, not at all." You ushered him to sit next to you, as you took a sip from your steaming hot cup of fruity tea. "If I smell though, do tell me!"

"Yeah, you smell bloody awful!" Harry sarcastically remarked, but laughing afterwards to assure you he was joking. The atmosphere went quiet for a minute, only the sounds of passing cars and deep breaths being heard.

"Y/N can I ask you something?" Harry turned the tone of the conversation. It sounded like he wanted to be more serious than you two were being beforehand.

"Anything." You encouraged him to continue. You placed the cup of tea down on the table, deciding it was too hot to drink right now, and gave him your full attention.

"Do you believe in love at first sight?" Harry questioned. You didn't think you'd be having a conversation this intense - especially if you had different opinions - on your first day of knowing each other, but here you were.

"I believe you can love someone at first sight. I don't believe you can be in love with someone at first sight. Why?" You were curious as to how his brain had journeyed to this particular topic. You'd never really had this conversation with anyone before, mainly because you were unaware of the true power, and meaning, of love.

"It uh... It doesn't matter." Harry shook his head and you could tell by his body language that he was shutting you out. Maybe you'd made him uncomfortable.

"Sorry I didn't mean to—"

"No, no. Please don't apologise. It's just - I like you a lot more than you may think." Harry shyly told you, which made you all soft inside. He was being vulnerable and that was something you admired in a partner. You didn't just need love, affection and trust in a relationship. No. You needed vulnerability and heartbreak too, and Harry was revealing that part of him to you.

"I like you a lot more than you think too." You repeated, not because you felt bad for him but because you truly did like him a whole lot. Love was a weird yet wonderful thing, and if you were to hazard a guess you'd say you loved Harry. 

You couldn't wait to be in love with him.

"Does that mean I get to crown you my girlfriend?" Harry excitedly asked. Harry happy was something that should be made a constant, and you were more than happy to be in control of that.

"At least take me out first." You bargained, wishing for nothing more than to go on a date with Harry. Where you'd go, you had no idea. Everything was closed right now and there was still the chance of becoming sick with corona, but no doubt Harry would think of something not only clever, but special.

Of course you'd love to be Harrys girlfriend. However, you wanted one more, official, opportunity to really get to know him - unprofessionally. You wanted to make sure that you knew, and he knew, that you wanted to be with him because he was the charming Harry you've come to love, not because he was Harry Styles.

"So you're allowing me to take you on a date?" Harry smirked like a little child, your heart fluttering at how excited he was to be able to treat you to dinner.

"Yes, Harry. Yes I am." You answered sweetly, offering him the cutest smile you could.

You can't believe what a turn of events today has been. You've gone from nearly writing yourself on Harrys enemy list to writing yourself on to his 'people he's dated' list. Who knows what the future would offer you. At the start of the day you had wished this whole day to end and for the ground to just swallow you up, now you never wanted it to end. It was too perfect to be true and yet it was.

Harry was the most wonderful human to exist and you were beyond surprised to be the one to catch his attention. You didn't understand why you were so special, but it was nice to feel like this for a change. It was nice to feel wanted.

                                                             ••••

A few months later and you were officially Harrys girlfriend.

It had been such a crazy few months. Harry religiously took you out on dates every week. Whether it be to grab a hotdog at a local diner, a coffee from a quaint cafe, a walk in Hyde Park or a late-night drive around London - which normally ended up with you falling asleep before you could make it back to yours. On sleepless jet-lagged nights he'll still drive through London's quiet streets, seeing neighborhoods in a new way, just as an excuse to spend time with you.

Harry often stayed over at yours. Even though you looked like you lived in a shoebox compared to Harry, he liked it. He liked the subtly and normality of it all. He wanted your life to remain as normal as possible and, apart from the occasional paparazzi incident, it did. You never had anything to complain about. Of course the online bullying created emotional wounds, at the start of your relationship, but it was nothing that Harry couldn't repair with a bit of love.

Lisa has nominated herself to be maid-of-honour when the day comes - if the day comes. Harry has already pinky sworn that you are it for him. The one, as some may say. You were utterly flattered, but you certainly unsure of what the future help for you both.

You loved Harry, you do love Harry and you will forever always love Harry.

It was ridiculous to think that all this stemmed from you working at Vogue. From you studying English Literature in a city away from London. From you dedicating you extra hours gaining work experience and money to be able get in and afford university. So many moments in life have you stopped and said 'i wish i hadn't have done that', but now you were convinced that they were the best things to have happened to you - because they lead you, all, to Harry.

And, being Harry Styles girlfriend was probably the biggest flex you could ever make.

[dendro-dragon-apep]

Apep accepted the box with a smile, placing it in her personal subspace inventory. "You would be correct in that I have a place that these would flourish. I've recently done a domain expansion and established a proper oasis on the surface of Teyvat," she said with a pleased smile.

"It's been a while since I have seen plants of other nations. I believe I have the perfect place to plant these in my little paradise"

Apep looked content, and popped open the top of the crate, revealing a bunch of... Coconuts? No, not just coconuts, but also a variety of dried nuts and fruit.

"I had failed to procure those shiny disks from my late colleague's tomb, unfortunately. Things are very different when you are the size of an insect. So, after much consideration and observation, I propose we attempt to make and sell handmade goods seeing as sustenance is more valuable than some of Morax's shed scales and blood for the more wiser of humans," she huffed, crossing her arms.

"Come, let us see what goods are on sale first, and then set up our own stall to peddle our goods. While I may not have Buer's recipe for those sweet, tasty nougats, I have found a recipe in my hoard dating back to the era of Sovereigns that would have been lost to time had I not organized my hoard beneath the oasis to accommodate a smaller form. It would be an honor to share this ancient recipe with the younger generation of dragons, to make up for lost time spent in self imposed exile whilst suffering the effects of the Apocalypse," she spoke confidently, and proceeded to meander over to a nearby stall, observing prices and familiarizing themselves with the worth of materials in terms of Mora.

Unbeknownst to Apep, a group of Akedemiya researchers were staring at the two, quietly scribbling down observations. A quick glance at their caps would denote them being a part of the Amurta Darshan, and it seems they were excited for a potentially valuable research opportunity...

Dvalin stood in his human form with wings in front of the giant barrier that separated the desert from the rest of Sumeru. He had a medium-sized box in his hand as he patiently waited for Apep to appear. He did not know if he needed to look for her or simply wait. Caravan Ribat was bustling with merchants selling their wares and travelers seeking respite after completing their journey in the desert.

An ancient presence of Dendro was approaching rapidly, Apep in human shape travelling amongst a band of Eremites.

It was quite easy to pick the ancient sovereign amongst the incoming travellers; with black and sand toned scales running throughout their body, unkempt and wild colored hair, and clawed hands holding a particularly large crate with ease. Her frame looked willowy, and her face was somewhat uncanny when next to a group of humans.

It didn't help that what Apep considered appropriate clothing was what was the bare minimum in human standards; a thin dark grey sheer silk robe, faded beige cloth bandages covering her upper chest and part of her shoulder, and a pair of loose canvas shorts. She had even forgone wearing shoes or coverings whilst treading the desert sands when the sun has reached its zenith.

All in all, Apep did not seem to bother hiding her draconic traits. The Eremites did not seem to mind their presence, and simply went about their business as Apep approached Dvalin.

"Ah, it seems that my plans have once again proceeded accordingly. Hello again, Dvalin, Erstwhile King of the Skies. I thank you for accompanying me on today's itinerary, which I have researched being called 'going shopping' and whatnot," Apep answered, placing the crate down as she was face to face with Dvalin .

[blu-joons]

Your Relationship Gets Revealed ~ Jung Hoseok

As soon as he saw the next article on your social media feed, Hobi desperately tried to reach out and take your phone away from you, only for you to move it out of his way. Your eyes looked to him in confusion, furrowing as soon as you took in the stunned expression that was on his face.

“Don’t,” he requested, squinting as your thumb moved closer to the screen, “just don’t move down that feed any more, please.”

Your head shook, brushing him aside as you went about your own business, scrolling down your feed only to feel your breath hitch in your throat.

The headline sent a shiver down your spine, it was the writing you had been dreading reading ever since you first started dating Hobi. Attached was a photo of the two of you on your date last night, late, when you were sure that no one would be around to see the two of you.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, closing your phone and placing it down beside you, shuffling away from Hobi on the sofa. “I should have been more careful; you’re going to get in a world of trouble.”

His head instantly shook, this wasn’t just on you at all, both of you made the decision to go out into the city as partners, equals. As you tried to move away once again, Yoongi’s arm moved around your frame to pull you back where you belonged.

“It’ll be alright,” he comforted closely into your ear, “all we’ve got to do is be honest with people, and nothing bad will happen to us.”

“How can you be so calm? Do you not understand how huge this is for you?”

Even though Hobi knew there were going to be people disappointed in him, he knew the majority would be happy that he had found love. It was far from the ideal situation for you both, but it was far from being the end of the world just as much.

The response was something that neither of you were prepared to view just yet, too scared that it could be worse than you hoped, with little hope that it might be positive.

“I’m only calm because if I don’t stay calm then I’m pretty sure I’ll start stressing out,” he smiled, pressing a kiss against the side of your head, “this is something we can figure out, we might just need to give it a bit of time.”

After learning about Hobi’s fans, you were sure that time wouldn’t be on your side. There were thousands of them, with the power to do some serious damage to your relationship too.

“I’m scared that this won’t end well, you’ve seen what Army are like when they don’t like something Hobi.”

His head shook, the last thing he wanted to do was let the doubts creep in, sensing that they’d already began to emerge for you.

“There’s nothing to be scared of, I’m not going to let you go through any of this by yourself,” he quickly assured you, “we go through this as a team, right?”

You were sure it was hard trying to secretly date Hobi without anyone finding out, but now that you had the whole world watching you, you knew things were only going to get harder. Whilst you knew those around you would be around to offer support, getting out of the hole you found yourselves was ultimately up to the two of you.

“I don’t know what to do anymore,” you confided in Hobi.

“Do you trust me?” He asked in response.

Your head nodded, a little less convincingly than it usually did. Of course, you trusted in Hobi, it was the rest of the world, and others around him that you didn’t trust. Voices that could influence, or that could potentially change his mind too.

“I just want to be safe.”

“I’ll make you feel safe, always,” he vowed, “and if you trust in me, then I want you to know that I’m going to fix every last bit of this.”

There would be many hard days ahead of you both, explaining, justifying, and maybe even a fight or two to keep you both together, but you were worth it. For too long Hobi had neglected his chance at love in order to focus on his career, but now that he’d found it, there was no way he was going to let it go so easily.

“What could this do to your career?”

His body flinched slightly at your words, it was the one aspect that he didn’t want to focus on, the one doubt that was in his mind.

“For me, it’ll be no difference to my career.”

As his voice faltered, you knew that Hobi was worried too, it was human nature after all when you had thousands of people screaming your name show after show around the world.

With some fans, Hobi knew that time could end up being a healer, they might not all understand straight away, but Hobi hoped more than anything that the fans would appreciate how happy you made him, and therefore support him in the decisions that he made.

“The worst thing we can do right now is let this fester,” he spoke, pulling you further into his side, “we just need to step up and be honest right now.”

Your head nodded; however hard it was for you to hear. “I might not be the famous one out of the two of us, but if there’s anything that I can do to make this easier for you, or for us, then I’ll do it. Even if it means staying away from you for a little while.”

Straight away, Hobi refused your offer, determined to keep you with him where he could look after you like he promised. The last place that would be good for you right now was a place where you were all alone, support was what you needed more than anything.

“Whatever you want me to do, just say, you’re the more important one,” you reminded him.

“We’re equals, it doesn’t matter what I do or who I am,” Hobi smiled, taking a hold of your hand. “I want you to stay with me and I want you to trust in me, but aside from that, I want you to be you and do what you want to do too.”

Hobi far from controlled you, and whilst he knew that there was a way out of this without hurting too many people, he wasn’t going to hold you back if you wanted to do your own thing to, so as long as you made sure that you stayed by his side.

As he’d seen with so many others, time was a healer greater than anything else, whilst the reveal would be a shock for most, coming to terms with it would be easier.

“We’ll be alright,” Hobi whispered to your ear as your eyes trailed off into the distance, “it’s scary right now, but things will get easier, for the both of us.”

“The last thing I want to do is get in your way or make you feel like I’m holding you back.”

His head shook strongly, “you’ll never make me feel that way, I’ve never been happier at work, or in life knowing that I have you supporting me every step of the way.”

“I’m scared right now Hobi, but I want you to know that just because I’m scared, I won’t go anywhere, please don’t be fearful of me leaving.”

“I wouldn’t let you leave even if you wanted to,” he laughed, “I told you earlier, I’ll keep you safe, and that’s exactly what I’ll make sure I do.”

Your eyes glanced up at him, “do you really think that things will get easier with time?”

“Completely, and we’ll be absolutely just fine.”

---

Masterlist

[misslovasstuff]

Why Dazai is a complex character

We all know how hard it is to get in this man’s mind, right?

First, let’t take a look on what makes a character complex:

- Conflicted or contradictory motives - Change or grow as a result of the story’s actions - Decisions advance the story’s plot - Create conflict in the story’s plot or theme - Learn something about themselves

 It fits Dazai perfectly, right? Now let’s take them one by one.

1. Conflicted or contradictory motives

- to die/to find meaning/to save others/? What the audience is given to realize is that Dazai wants salvation through death. His desire to die comes with a shade of humor to hide how sad and tragic it really is. Other than that, one motive of his is the promise he made to his friend who died on his arms. You see it right? Dazai’s motives are contradictory because he saves people but can’t really save himself. Although Dazai is on the side of ‘good’ which is actually something that doesn’t really exist in BSD world because everything is more like in a gray area, his motives are more focused on others rather than himself. While on the mafia, his focus was on himself, his doom and suffering. That’s what made him so miserable. People aren’t sure whether Dazai has changed, and they question his conflicted motives. But in reality, it’s very simple. Dazai has no hidden motives other than the ones we already know. He’s not the type to aim for power and fortune. Dazai just wants a bit of happiness, he wants to answer questions that are impossible to answer. I’d like to quote a Dostoevsky saying:

“Pain and suffering are always inevitable for a large intelligence and a deep heart. The really great men must, I think, have great sadness on earth.” ― Fyodor Dostoevsky, Crime and Punishment

2. Change or grow as a result of the story’s actions Dazai’s grow is something people fail to see. I’ve read thoughts on this matter and some claim that Dazai hasn’t changed at all. That is partly true.  Before Oda’s death, Dazai was not open to people (and still isn’t) but the difference stays on how he dealt with it. In the dark era, Dazai drowned himself in misery, seeing only darkness and claiming that this is how it always has been for him. Whilst in the time being, Dazai hides his misery behind a smile and happy facade. Bsck then, he made no attempt to change, nor did he tried to look things differently. Dazai was alone, completely. There were times he was surrounded by people he genuinely cared about, like Oda. Now, the thing is, without Oda, Dazai may have never gotten the development he got. Hardly would the things lead differently if Oda was still alive. With Oda, Dazai felt comfortable, not judges. He felt like he could open up with him because Oda would always listen to Dazai without joking around or judging him. That’s the reason why Odasaku was the only person that came close to understanding Dazai, because he was the only one Dazai opened up to. I believe that is becuase in reality, Dazai trusted Oda. We know how easily he can see through people. Perhaps, he saw in Oda that kindness and goodness that intrigued him. He saw such integrity and selflessness that made him lower his guard.  Their relationship was beautiful. They let aside the ranks and always had each other’s backs. Sometimes, between two people, it just clicks. It feels like you’ve known each other for a long time and you find yourself comfortable, you let yourself be. That’s how Dazai was. Maybe, the only thing that kept him happy, was his friendship with Odasaku and Ango. Because those were two people that accepted him the way he was, people who appreciated life and had dreams and goals, something that Dazai longs to have. When Odasaku died, Dazai’s hope died with him. Although extremely intelligent, Dazai is optimistic. He had hope that he’d find a solution to his problem, but Oda’s words shattered him.

Dazai did not cry. But you can tell that he’s ready to. Look at his face and tell me that that’s not the most devastating Dazai you have ever seen. His lip trembles and his eyes give away how hard it is for him, how hard it has always been. This is the moment that Dazai takes the decision to change, keeping the promise of his friend to become a good man and protect others.

3- Decisions advance the story’s plot Dazai is the one who comes up with brilliant strategies, but that’s not all of it. 

- He took Atsushi under his mentoring and hired him as an agent in the ADA.  Atsushi plays a very important role in almost every mission or situation that ADA is in.  If Atsushi wasn’t in the ADA, things might have gone completely different. - Dazai decided to join the good side. Yet again, if Dazai didn’t join the ADA, there would be no Atsushi, no shin-soukoku and probably the ADA would have already fallen due to the immense power the mafia would have with Dazai in it. More people would die, wars would destroy the city and things may have gotten to be worse. - The creation of shin-soukoku The plot goes around Atushi and Akutagawa as the new generation of the double black, a powerful duo brought together for the good of the city, to defeat the greater evil. Their mentor, who sees the potential in them better than everyone else, has forcefully made them work together, which had successful results. If Dazai didn’t make such decision, Atsushi and Akutagawa may had already killed each other. - Dazai decides almost any plan and strategy there is. He plays his cards well and the way he thinks and acts determine the aftermath.

4- Create conflict in the story’s plot or theme - Dazai’s a problematic character for a lot of reasons. He’s lazy, distracted, unbothered, mysterious and secretive. Sometimes, unwillingly he creates conflicts that sometimes as viewed lightly by the audience. Like the shin-soukoku conflict. A part why Aku hates Atsushi is because he is Dazai’s junior  and that he gets almost everything that he himself once desired. He gets praise and acknowledgment from Dazai. The latter, has not acknowledged Aku that way he wants to, but surely he has acknowledged him on his own way. Dazai made him part of the new double black and puts his trust in him and Atsushi. Dazai too believes in the quote that ‘only a diamond can polish a diamond’. Furthermore, we have the conflict between the mafia and the ADA. You may think that it’s not directly tied to Dazai, but he plays a major role. Having Dazai in the opposite team, makes it harder for the mafia to create successful operations. Not only Dazai’s intelligent and cunning, but he’s an ex-member himself which makes him even more of a threat to the mafia. His suicidal tendencies is the reason why he met Atsushi in the first place. So in a way, Dazai drives the plot of the story.

5- Learn something about themselves I believe that this is the point we are all looking forward to. Although we have already caught a glimpse of Dazai considering his worth as a human being in the Dead apple movie, but also in the manga countless times.

Just look at his expression. How his eyes close so peacefully when Atsushi claims that he does things that let him know that Daza’s a good guy (visiting graves and also in the end of the movie...)

Dazai sees himself rather harshly. He judges himself for his past and puts himself in constant misery. Maybe he doesn’t accept the fact that he’s a ‘good guy’, but he’s desperately trying to be.

Take a look to the following panel (chapter 50)

You can tell how much Dazai wants to help and this warms my heart so much.

“Yosano could heal me and I could help in the search”

 He clenches the sheet because of the frustration of not being able to help; that his ability is holding him back. 

HE’S BLAMING HIMSELF.

Like one would say that he’s injured, or that he was shot, but no. Dazai puts the blame on himself like he always does.

I’d like people to acknowledge Dazai’s growth because our boy is trying so hard. Dazai literally went from hell to salvation. He has already found his salvation but he hasn’t recognized that yet.

In conclusion, Dazai is the complex character we so much love. In the future, maybe we’ll be able to see him a bit more happy. Genuinely happy.

(sorry this was very sloppy but I hope you get the point)

[soramei]

Intentional - Part 1

Pairing: Bang Chan x Reader (she/her)

Summary: Landing your first real job at JYPE was something short of a miracle. You were prepared to face the new struggles of this elusive career whilst moving to a new country, however, nothing could have prepared you for him. Will stolen glances, secret touches, and hushed nights spent in the recording room ever be enough for the both of you?

Genre: idol!bang chan au, forbidden relationship, coworkers to eventual lovers, slow burn 

Warnings: none right now, eventual smut,

Word Count: 7.3k 

Masterlist

A/N: hey yall this is my first ff im posting on tumblr :D im kinda scared to post but i hope anybody who stumbles on lil ol’ me will join me along the way :) also important!!! i made oc/reader asian cus i am lol (and this whole thing is basically a glorified self insert) so plz keep this in mind when reading!! oh god i didnt realize how slow this first part was sry... 

The cold silence of the room felt like stabs at your inside. You commanded your feet to stop bouncing up and down as you unconsciously started to bite off the dead skin of your bottom lip. The white corporate light from above reflected off your brand new lanyard hanging delicately from your neck. You felt the coarse blue fabric rub against your neck as you mindlessly fiddled with your lanyard; the newly printed photo of your face stared back at you with a smile. 

The creak of the door to your left was what broke you from your nervous fidgets. Whipping your head up from your lanyard, you immediately stood up ready to bow to whoever came through that door. 

It was a girl. She looked around the same age as you, if not older. Her attire was what gave her away. Her appearance essentially mirrored yours: hair tied back into a ponytail with a white blouse and black work pants. She also had the familiar blue ‘JYPE’ labeled strap hanging from her neck. 

“Hello,” you spoke meekly, scared to disturb the cold silence that had a hold on the room you were in. 

“Hello,” she replied. “My name is Choi Na-eun, I’m the new social media strategist intern and today is my first day.”

This is so relieving, you thought, another newbie to share the stress with me. 

“This is my first day too,” you perked up, “I’ll be starting as the new junior Chinese marketing assistant.” 

Getting the acceptance email from JYP Entertainment was definitely a high point in your life. The feeling of butterflies swarming your insides as you clicked the email open only to see your acceptance was immediately locked as a core memory. All the years of memorizing thousands of Korean and English vocabulary flashcards, the panic attacks before your finance exams, and the many, many late night coffee breaks were worth it the moment you received your first legitimate job offer, and from the esteemed JYP Entertainment company no less. 

“Chinese marketing?” Na-eun asked. “So you aren’t from here, I take it.” 

You shook your head. “I am from China. I completed my degree a while ago with a major in Language and a minor in Business. To be honest, I’ve done internships back home, but it’s been my dream to move to a new country.”

All of what you said was true. Up until now, your surroundings have never changed in all of your twenty-three years living. From the walk with your grandmother to daycare to the vast campus of your university, the view of your city has never changed. Your social circle stayed stagnant since you were able to talk and your love life was — for a lack of a better word — uneventful. 

It wasn’t until the day you decided to start applying for careers outside your home country that you felt hopeful. Hopeful that you could find an escape from your inert lifestyle and escape the burnout and stress that has been building up over the years. And so, on a day when you were feeling unusually confident, you gathered up the courage and spent hours sending out applications to organizations all over Asia that pertained to your specific degree. The applications were mainly for small jobs at small companies, however, your strange spike of motivation gave you the confidence to apply to the everso esteemed JYP Entertainment located in Korea. Of course you knew about this company — you and your friends played songs by ‘Twice’ nonstop back in highschool — but you didn’t realize the full power that this company had on the entertainment market until you did your full research. To say that you thought you had no chance was an understatement. This application was so far of a reach that you purposefully forced your mind to erase all memory of even applying. 

However, with your education, your work experience, and whatever tiny bit of luck you had, you somehow made it through the initial application process. Then the next. And the next. Then the interview. And now, you were nervously sitting in this white painted room with Na-eun, in a completely new country, waiting for your manager to come greet you. 

“So you’re from China? You’ve got to teach me chinese sometime.” Na-eun smiled. 

You giggled in return while nodding your head. You were relieved that you’ve met a potential friend so early in your career in this company. This was one of your big worries. With your social circle being so stagnant for the majority of your life back in China, you rarely had the opportunity to meet new people, much less make new friends. 

You were about to inquire more into Na-eun’s life when the door to your left abruptly opened. In the blink of an eye, three new people strutted in — two women and one man. They seemed to be higher status than you and Na-eun judging by their attire. All three were styled in some type of blazer and dress pants and there was no lanyard to be found on any of them. 

“Hello new employees,” the man greeted. Judging by his face, he looked to be in his late thirties at the least. His hair was styled back neatly and his lips slanted up, giving him a fox-like appearance. “I am Executive Manager Kim. Joined beside me on the left is Social Media Manager An and to my right is Marketing Manager Chen.” 

Both you and Na-eun immediately stood up to bow and introduce yourselves. 

“Hello. My name is Choi Na-eun, I’m the new social media strategist intern.” Na-eun said. 

“Hello. My name is y/n, I’m the new junior Chinese marketing assistant.” You repeated after her, copying exactly what she said. You did not want to screw anything up on your first day, especially your first impression. 

Manager Kim reached over to Na-eun, introducing himself and giving her a firm handshake. He then slowly moved over to you, and reached for your hand. 

“Y/n,” he gave time for your name to settle on his tongue as he gave a sly smile. “You’re not from here, aren't you?”

You shook your head ‘no’. “No, sir. I’m from China where I studied language and business. I hope to do well here as the Chinese marketing assistant.” You replied, mentally cursing yourself for sounding so timid. 

“I’m glad to hear,” Manager Kim chuckled, “I’m sure you’ll treat me and your other managers well.”

You felt an uncomfortable shiver pass through you as he brushed his thumb along your hand before letting go. This feeling was excused as nervousness, after all, this was your first day and your first time meeting your higher-ups. 

You introduced yourself to Manager Chen, assuming that she would be the one you were to assist in your time here at JYPE. Judging by her last name, you presumed that she was Chinese as well. 

“Forgive me for being so straight up Manager Chen, but are you Chinese?” You asked. 

“That is alright, y/n,” she smiled, “I’m not. My Husband is, but I’ve lived in China for more than half my life. I don’t want to brag, but my mandarin has gotten proficient over the past decade or so.”

Proficient? It’s amazing. You thought. This first day was turning out better than you thought. Other than the weird feeling you received from Manager Kim, everything was turning out splendid. A potential friend and a manager that could speak your first language.

“Since it’s about noon right now,” Manager Kim took a look at his watch, “What do you all think about some lunch?” 

The other managers nod their heads in agreement and gestures for you and Na-eun to follow them out of the waiting room you were in for so long. 

The whole building seemed so clean. With every corner lit, by natural light or artificial light, you could clearly see that every room, every piece of furniture and decor had been purposefully placed. You couldn’t help but have a stupid look of awe plastered on your face as you mindlessly follow your superiors over to the cafeteria.  

You turned your head over to Na-eun and gave her a tilt of the eyebrow, silently saying wow, this is where we work. 

With the turn of a corner and several silent strides, your little group made it to the cafeteria. 

The difference between your claustrophobic waiting room and this vast room was astonishing. With countless tables and romantic yellow lighting, this place almost resembled a five star restaurant. You’ve never seen a cafeteria as extravagant and clean as this before. However, to be fair, you’ve never had the experience of working with such a large corporation before. 

The managers led you to the serving station where you grabbed yourself a tray and proceeded to spoon small portions of rice and side dishes onto your plate. This cuisine was different to what you were used to, but nonetheless looked delicious. You were prepared for the small cultural differences, especially with the food, but from everything you’ve witnessed so far, the culture shock would be easier to overcome than what you’ve anticipated. 

“Have this soup y/n,” Manager Kim’s grating voice came from in front of you, interrupting your inner monologue. “It’s good for your complexion.” 

As Manager Kim hands over the bowl of soup, you feel the sleeve of his blazer brush up against your shoulder, causing the pit of your stomach to drop.

First day nerves. That was what this feeling was. You thought. 

You quietly thanked him with a small nod and walked briskly from the service line, trying to find where Na-eun went with the other two managers. Thankfully, they were just a step away and you quickly made your way over to the comfortable spot beside Na-eun. She gave you a small grin and you both followed your way to a table right in the middle of the room. 

Soon, all five chairs of the table got filled and sounds of chopsticks tapping and scraping against plates and bowls filled your ears. An awkward silence dominates your table as you start to pick at your food. 

“So,” Manager Chen cleared her throat, “after lunch I was thinking we should go to a meeting room and discuss Miss. Y/n’s role in our new project.”

“I was thinking the same for our new Intern Choi.” Manager An cut in, “What do you think, Manager Kim?” 

“It all sounds good. I will be accompanying Manager Chen to her meeting room as I wish to also further discuss the preliminary steps for our project.” Manager Kim looked from Manager Chen over to you. 

“Project?” You ask. 

“We’ve had a very successful year with our idol groups and we wanted to ride this success and start marketing in China. Recently, we’ve noticed a very large and growing Chinese audience for this group. I’m sure you’re very curious now, however we can discuss further details once we are in the meeting room.” Manager Chen replies while taking a sip of the water in her glass. 

Manager Chen appeared to be a very professional and respectable woman. With prominent collarbones and wide shoulders, she easily looked the part of a confident and adored manager. She needed minimal makeup to highlight her tall cheekbones, and even with a short heel on her feet she seemed to tower over you. However, her warm and comforting voice was what broke her intimidating demeanour. Just listening to her voice felt like you were back in your high school classroom with your favourite teacher explaining the motif of a sad love poem. 

After some more awkward conversations mixed with a few work discussions, the five of you finished the delicious food on your trays. 

“Please excuse me whilst I head to the restroom” Na-eun spoke up after your group finished clearing the table. 

“Please excuse me as well.” You quickly followed, bowing as you both ventured off to the washrooms. 

I should get her number so I’m not completely a loner in this place, you thought to yourself. And so, after a quick inner struggle to speak up, you finally decided to ask. 

“Hey, should we exchange contacts? I don’t wanna look like the newbie eating in the cafeteria alone after today.” You chuckled. 

“Totally!” Na-eun beamed. “I was actually thinking the same thing…” 

And so, you both quickly exchanged each other's contact as you made your way to the restrooms. 

The hall of the washrooms were narrow, hidden away from the main cafeteria. You walked in, deciding you only wanted to retouch your hair and makeup before your first official meeting. You carefully fix the loose hairs that somehow escaped the confines of your elastic and dab on a fresh layer of foundation before applying your lipstick which rubbed off while eating. Looking over at Na-eun, you see she’s quite in the zone redoing her mascara. 

“Hey, I’ll just wait for you in the hall.” You said. 

Na-eun gave you a disinterested nod back as she kept focusing on her mascara. 

You walked to the end of the hall, leaned against the wall, and pulled out your phone. Smiling, you opened the virtual Tamagotchi app and saw your little friend staring back at you, bouncing up and down. The bundle of virtual pixels happily bounced as you fed and bathed it, making you happier in return. Playing this game, you were so entranced with your phone that the abrupt closing of the washroom doors broke you out of your hypnosis fast, causing you to flinch and drop your phone. 

You looked up, only to see a brown haired man wearing a long sleeved black shirt. The hem of his sleeve fell, covering his hand as he bent down to pick up your phone. He stood back up, fully facing you now and you immediately recognized who he was. You weren’t a fool, of course you did all your research on the artists of JYPE before applying for the job. Looking down at you right now, holding your phone in his hand, was Bang Chan of Stray Kids. 

The wispy tufts of his brown hair bounced over his forehead as he stepped over to you. He smiled, his dimple poking out of his cheek, and handed your phone back to you. “I think you dropped this.”  

Blushing tomato red, you embarrassingly accepted the phone, trying not to make your shaking hands noticeable. It seemed like that failed, however, as you noticed him glance at your hands and dimple grow deeper. 

“Thank you.” You meekly chirped and lowered your head, still in awe that you somehow bumped into a JYPE idol in the bathroom hallway of a cafeteria. 

“It’s good that there’s no cracks.” Bang Chan said, looking in your eyes. 

You looked back into his eyes. His smile never left his face, and you physically felt the warmth radiating off his body like rays from the sun. Some boring, objective part of your brain knew this interaction only lasted a fraction of a second, but you swore that time froze.

“Hyung!” A distant voice called. 

Your trance was broken as Bang Chan looked over to the person calling his name. He turned back to you, politely bowed, and casually sauntered over to the man who called him. 

What just happened? Your inner monologue ran, still trying to process the embarrassing interaction. The scent of his cologne lingered, swirling the atmosphere around your body. 

Thankfully, you didn’t have too much time to dwell on this interaction as Na-eun finally opened the washroom doors and was making her way toward you. 

You and Na-eun trailed behind the managers until you reached the set of elevators. It was there where you had to unfortunately separate from your comfort work buddy as she hopped in the elevator across from yours with Manager An. The other two managers led you to the elevator at the end and pressed the button for your destination floor. The ride in the elevator was silent. You stood there, fiddling with your nails. 

Once the elevator gave the ding of arrival, the three of you headed down a hall where you presumed had the meeting room. 

Manager Kim took a look at the watch on his wrist. “We are a minute late, everybody should be there already. Enter silently and respectfully.” He said in a stern voice.

You reached the frosted glass door of the meeting room and entered through the already opened door. The managers followed behind you with Manager Chen being the last one in and closing the door. 

Your eyes widened at whom you saw.

There was Bang Chan, who sat in all his glory, staring right into your eyes with his mouth ajar. His shocked expression didn't last long, however, as he quickly composed himself to fit with the professional atmosphere of this room. 

But why was he here? You thought. He’s an artist, isn’t this a management meeting? 

Your inner monologue was broken by Manager Kim’s stern voice. “Y/n, why don’t you sit with me for today?” He asked with a slight tilt of the lips. His hand was hovering above your back, almost guiding you to the seat just right of the head chair. 

Your heart rate quickened. There was no way that you could handle sitting right beside a high position manager on your first day. You barely knew what your duties entailed, you definitely could not handle the pressure of this seat today. You whipped your head around to look for Manager Chen. She was already sitting in her seat, looking like she was right at home. 

“Manager Kim, if you don’t mind, I would like to sit in this position for today, '' a voice spoke up, “I have a lot of new ideas I’d like to share that are written in my notes.” 

Bang Chan.

He paused a brief second, eyes switching between you and Manager Kim, and raised his iPad to show the screen filled with words. 

“I don’t mind at all, go ahead.” Manager Kim monotonously replied. He then made his way to the head chair. 

You looked over at Bang Chan, trying to subtly send the most grateful facial expression over to him. He returned your look, slightly grinning as his fingers tapped on the screen of his iPad and sat down to the right of Manager Kim. You looked over to see Manager Chen gesturing you to sit in the chair beside her and swiftly made your way over. At your seat, she handed you a notepad and pen, both adorned with the JYPE logo. 

“Now, as of 1:02 p.m., September first, the meeting will officially begin.” Manager Kim clasped his hands together on top of the table. “As most of you already know, we are in the preliminary stages of planning a Chinese debut for our artist group ‘Stray Kids’. All we have right now is the estimated timeline, which is four months. We have a basic grasp of the concept we are working towards, however, as you all know, trends are always changing and growing. While we are working to create a new and original concept for Stray Kids, we also want the concept to gather as much audience reception as possible.” 

Wow. That was a lot to take in. Your hands struggled to keep up with writing down what Manager Kim was saying. You knew this relatively new group was really starting to explode in the past year, but a debut in another country? This group must work really hard to even have the company consider a step as risky as this. So this is why Bang Chan is also involved in this meeting. 

You peaked your head up from your notepad. Bang Chan sat across from you, one hand on his chin and the other one holding the pen to his tablet. 

Manager Kim then carefully discussed the duties that each group in the room would take. Many of the jobs were directly involved with developing the concept itself, such as producing music, concept art, and theme development. Your pen never took a break from gliding on the notepad as you hurriedly jotted down everything that Manager Kim said. 

Eventually, Manager Kim’s delegations moved to Manager Chen. “Manager Chen, I’ll let you take over from here.” 

“Thank you Manager Kim,” Manager Chen cleared her throat. “While my main job here was to market Korean comebacks towards the Chinese audience, this new project changes things up a bit. Now, not only will I be in charge of marketing to the Chinese audience, but I will also be directly in charge of the concept itself. I will be working carefully with our team in China to monitor the trends which we can incorporate into our debut.

“This is my new assistant, y/n,” She turned and gestured to you. You politely nodded your head. “She will be gathering information on useful trends and reporting back to me, as well as some translating. Please report any ideas that you deem useful to her by the end of every week for her to sort through and deliver to me.” 

You almost want to call Manager Chen crazy for giving you so much power, after all, you were only starting out as her assistant. Despite this, however, you were determined to go above and beyond with the new responsibilities given to you, after all, you knew that choosing to work in an organization as big as JYPE would take blood, sweat, and tears. 

After some clarifications given by Manager Chen and a few more questions directed at her, Manager Kim took the reins back in his hands. 

“Now, as I’m sure you all know, this is Bang Chan: the leader of Stray Kids. Although our management team is in charge of this debut, we like to include the opinions of artists whenever possible. He will make an appearance whenever he can and act as a representative of Stray Kids, sharing their ideas and opinions.” Manager Kim explained. 

Bang Chan politely introduced himself, and quickly went on to express some concerns of his members. He made sure that each concern was answered thoroughly by Manager Kim before moving on to the next. 

“As for our concept ideas,” Bang Chan’s soft brown eyes met yours, “will I have to report to y/n?” 

You felt your ears redden. 

“You could, yes,” Manager Kim straightened his back, “but if you find the weekly deadlines too much of a problem, you may just report to me or at any subsequent meeting.” 

“No worries sir,” Bang Chan’s eyes lingered on yours for a fraction of a second more before grinning at Manager Kim, “I’m always punctual.”  

The rest of the meeting consisted of more introductions and preliminary plans. After about an hour, everybody seemed satisfied with the contents of the meeting and were starting to pack up all their clutter on the table. You looked over at Manager Chen, silently asking what should I do next? 

Manager Chen smiled. “Let's head to my floor. I can give you a quick tour, you can get settled at your desk. I have some paperwork that I’m almost done with; I’m sure you’ll have no problem finishing it for me.” She already was standing up and straightening over the creases of her jacket. 

You stood up as well and followed behind Manager Chen like a lost baby duckling. You both made your way over to Manager Kim to bid farewell. You politely thanked him, said your goodbyes, and were about to leave when he stopped the two of you. 

“Manager Chen, let’s go out for drinks tonight.” Manager Kim took a look at the intricate watch on his wrist. “With our whole team, of course. It’ll be a welcoming night and we can get to know the people on our team better.” 

“That’s a great idea, Manager Kim,” Manager Chen nodded at his idea in approval. She turned on her iPad to quickly get a glimpse at her schedule. “What do you think y/n? Can you make it tonight? I know this is very last moment, but I think it’ll be a great opportunity for you to get to know your coworkers better.” 

“I should be able to make it.” You definitely could make it. You had no plans anyways. 

“Am I invited to this top secret party you’re all having?” A now very distinguishable voice came from behind you. Bang Chan stared at Manager Kim with a very mischievous expression. 

“Would your manager allow it?” Manager Kim questioned, knitting his eyebrows. 

“I’m on a diet, so I can’t drink alcohol or eat anything,” Bang Chan’s nose scrunched up in annoyance, “but I want to be as involved as I can. Just because I’m an idol doesn’t mean I can’t help behind the scenes as well.”

“Very well,” Manager Kim nodded with a fixed expression, “Let’s all meet at that restaurant about a block away west. I’ll go tell the others.” And with that, Manager Kim left you, Manager Chen, and Bang Chan to stand in awkward silence. 

“Well,” Bang Chan cleared his throat and clapped his hands together, “I’ll get going as well to do some work now, but it was nice meeting the both of you.” 

“You as well.” Manager Chen replied for the both of you and Bang Chan left soon after. 

Manager Chen then led you to the elevators again and you headed up yet another few floors to reach your destination. You nervously fiddled with your hair as you silently waited behind your boss, looking up at the smooth lines of her blazer every few seconds. The elevator doors dinged, letting you know of its arrival. The two of you swiftly headed out the elevators and walked to what you presumed was Manager Chen’s office area. You kept following behind Manager Chen in silence before you stopped in front of a set of doors that looked identical to the ones at the previous meeting room. Manager Chen opened the doors for you, and you headed in. 

You paused a step in, looking wide-eyed at the interior. The office was clean. A big glass desk sat right in the middle of the vast room in front of a huge set of windows. There were a couple of soft looking chairs placed right before the desk with a huge rug right underneath it. Over to your left, you spotted a water dispenser with a kettle right beside it. You stared at the room a bit longer before realizing you must have looked very stupid with that astonished look on your face. 

“Is this your office, Manager Chen?” You asked. 

“Yes. It seems that you like it,” She chuckled. You felt the heat rise to your ears. 

“Since you’ll be working so close to me, I’m sure you’ll be happy to come here more often.” 

“Thanks.” You awkwardly laughed. You blamed your bad response on the fact that you still weren’t familiar with the language, not your blatant awkwardness. 

Manager Chen made her way over to her desk, picking up a small stack of papers. “These are some letters I’ve received from several designer companies in China. Since we are still in the very preliminary stages of this project, we would like to keep our options open for the stylists here.” She picks an annotated letter from the pile. “I’ve translated and created a summary of the main points of this letter. There are a few more left which I believe I can trust you with. Just do as I did with this letter and add the sample pictures along with it.”

You quickly complied, taking the stack of papers from her hands. 

“I’ll show you to your new work space.” She led you out of your office and over to a cubicle that wasn’t too far away. It was considerably smaller compared to Manager Chen’s office, but you thought it had a certain coziness to it. Plus, working close to your coworkers could also boost your motivation. “Here is your desk, it’s not the most exciting thing, but you may bring photos or whatnot to decorate it. Now, I’ll let you settle in and get started on your work. You can meet me at my office around six, I can double check your work before we leave.” 

You thanked her before she left and immediately got started on your work. You diligently translated the whole of the letters before picking out the main points that matched with Manager Chen’s example. After this was done, you included the photos that came with each letter and slipped them into their own cozy folder. This work was monotonous, sure, but it was something you needed on your hectic first day here. 

You were so captivated by your work that you completely forgot about the time. The sun was starting to set, and you only remembered to look at the time after you tucked your last letter neatly in its folder. You briefly panicked, praying that you weren’t making your manager wait. Thankfully, it was only a quarter until six. You took the next fifteen minutes double checking your work, making sure to also check the time every once in a while. At exactly six, you left your desk and scurried over to the big doors of Manager Chen’s office. 

Knocking a couple times, you waited patiently to be let in. 

“Come in.” 

You let yourself in, handing the papers to your manager, then sat quietly in one of the chairs before her desk, crossing your fingers together. You fiddled with your thumbs, patiently waiting for Manager Chen to speak up. 

“Not bad, this is some decent work.” Manager Chen announced as soon as she finished glossing over your work. “I’ve noted some places that you can either fix or improve. I’ll scan them and hand you a copy tomorrow.” 

You let out a breath that you didn’t know you were holding. A tidal wave of relief washed over you as you let yourself relax further into your chain. Not bad, this is some decent work. You proudly repeated this moment in your brain. Although you were disappointed with the mistakes that you let slip through, to get somewhat of a compliment on your first day meant a lot to you. 

“Shall we get going now?” Manager Chen asked. 

You grabbed your bag and stood up. “I’ll let you lead the way.” 

                                                         _______

It seemed like all you were doing on your first day was following Manager Chen around like a lost puppy. The situation right now was no exception either, as you tried to copy her confident strides over to the restaurant a block down. You watched the busy rush hour streets and sidewalks fill with people, some people going home after a long day, some people going to party just like you.

Soon, after a few more minutes of walking, the both of you arrived at the small wooden doors of the restaurants. It seemed like the both of you were a bit late as Manager Kim was already waiting in front of the entrance with the rest of the team. Bang Chan was also there, head down looking at his phone. 

“Sorry we’re late, have you been waiting for long?” Manager Chen somehow sounded confident despite making everybody wait on her.

Her voice seemed to have caught everybody’s attention. You watched as Bang Chan swiftly turned his head up from his phone, his eyes making contact with yours. You immediately focused your eyes somewhere else, trying to casually play off the fact that your eyes subconsciously drifted to him. 

“We’ve only been waiting for a couple minutes.” Manager Kim gave a tight smile. “Let’s go in before you all get too cold.” 

Your little group of around ten people slowly entered the doors, filling the restaurant. Manager Kim called over a waitress, signaling that you had ten people in your group, and let the waitress lead you all to a long wooden table. 

The restaurant was nice, nothing too fancy, but that’s how you could tell the food was good. With dim lighting and tightly packed tables, it made you feel fuzzy and warm on the inside. 

However, your thoughts on the restaurant were soon broken by a hand on your shoulder. 

“Y/n, why don’t you sit with me?” Manager Kim’s lips curled up, “After all, this is a work gathering, how good of a boss would I be if I didn’t even treat my newest team member to a drink?” 

Your brain was in shambles. You seriously didn’t feel comfortable sitting with him all night. However, the logical side of your brain was saying something different. He’s just being nice as a boss. You don’t know how people in this country act anyways, stop being paranoid. 

It seemed like your inner turmoil was taking longer than necessary, as you heard another familiar voice speak up. 

“Manager Kim-” Bang Chan called out. 

“You don’t need to sit with me here, Bang Chan.” Manager Kim chuckled as he stared directly in Bang Chan’s eyes. “I’d rather not talk about work outside the office.”

You watched as Bang Chan’s eyebrows furrowed, looking back to you in reluctance. You smiled at him before turning your attention to Manager Kim. It was just one night, right? Plus, there’s no harm in establishing a good impression with your boss. 

“I’ll sit with you, Manager Kim.” You smiled, “thanks for offering.”

And so, you took your seat next to Manager Kim at the table. Bang Chan, who was to your left, looked askance at Manager Kim for a brief second before his facial expression did a complete 180. His familiar, boy-ish smile was plastered on his face like it was the most natural thing. 

When the menus came, everybody at the table — including you — started to order onslaughts of food and alcohol. After brief moments of casual chatter about topics such as the weather or how good the food was here, everything that was ordered arrived at your table.

You grabbed a can of beer and started sipping on it. You’ve drank before — of course — with your old friends at university, but it’s been at least a year since you last did. Better ease myself in. You thought. 

However, your preconceived plans were ruined when a small glass of clear liquor got pushed in front of you. 

“Y/n, surely you aren’t going to sip on that can all night.” The ends of Manager Kim’s lips curled up. 

“Wasn’t planning to, sir.” You replied while tipping the glass up and into your mouth. The bitter liquid burned your throat as it went down. You took a moment to recollect your surroundings. Seems like your tolerance was higher than you thought. 

“Bang Chan, do you not drink? Why not eat something then?” Manager Chen pointed to the food on the table. 

“No can do ma’am, I’m on a strict diet. My manager would kill me.” Bang Chan pointed to his glass of water. 

“In that case,” Manager Chen filled another glass, “Y/n, have another drink.” She slid the glass down the table in front of you. 

You gladly accepted your second drink, downing the alcohol in one go. Your eyes instinctively squeezed together as you felt your throat burn. From the tips of your ears to the ends of your toes, your whole body felt warm and alive. 

You lost track of the time. As your conversations got livelier, your head got fuzzier. You stopped counting your drinks after four, especially since so many people were eager to offer the new employee a drink. Although your vision was starting to blur, you could still think straight. I can still think, you thought to yourself, still — what a powerful buzz.

Your thoughts ran rampant in your mind as you stared at the lightbulb across the room. What a pretty light. So bright. Warm. 

“Y/n.”

Was the light calling your name? 

“Y/n!” 

Your eyes focused again and snapped away from the lightbulb. Where was the voice coming from? You slowly turned your head. Bang Chan.

“Hi.” You smiled. 

“Hi.” He smiled back. So bright. Warm. “It’s been hours and I haven’t even offered you a drink yet.” 

You tried to focus your eyes on his face as he slid the glass over to you. One more drink wouldn’t hurt your buzz, right?  

You gladly accepted, slowly moving your hand over to the glass to pick the clear liquid up. It went down in one go just like all the others. 

Huh? Was this water? 

You struggled to focus your eyes on the person who offered you the drink. “That was yummy.” 

“I bet it was,” the talking blur chuckled, “How about another one?”

You nodded, then took the glass he slid towards you. It’s funny how water flows even when in a cup. Water. You needed to pee. 

“Hey,” your words dragged out, “where’s uh, where’s the washroom?”

“Follow me. I’ll show you.” Manager Kim stood up and reached his hand out towards you. You didn’t want to take it, but it seemed like nobody was noticing his offer. 

Reluctantly, you took his hand and stood up, only to stumble down again. Did your knees not want to listen? 

“Whoa there, better hold on.” Manager Kim said. 

“No, I can walk. I-I can walk.” You let go of Manager Kim and tried to focus all your brainpower on moving your feet in a straight line. This tactic only worked for a second, however, as your knees gave in and you stumbled down. 

“It’s obvious that you can’t.” Manager Kim’s lips turned up. “It’s time for you to go home. I’ll take you back.” 

What? No. You didn’t want Manager Kim to take you home, not after all the awkward events of today and the general vibe from him. You tried to express your thoughts, but nothing came out of your mouth. 

“Manager Kim, you’ve been drinking!” Bang Chan’s voice came from some part of the room. “It’s not safe to drive, I’ll call a taxi for you.” 

“What about Y/n here? I’ll get a taxi for us both.” Manager Kim said. 

“I called my manager earlier to pick me up, we can drop her off along the way. It’s not a good idea to put two drunk people in a car. I’m completely sober right now, so let me do all the work.” Bang Chan grinned, patting Manager Kim on his shoulder. 

“Is that what you want, Y/n?” Manager Kim glared. 

You dizzily nodded. 

“Alright. In that case, I can call my own taxi later.” Manager Kim grimaced. 

“Stay safe, Manager Kim.” Bang Chan smiled. He turned to you. “My manager’s been waiting outside for a while now, do you want to leave now?” 

You nodded. You tried to start walking again, but your damn knees just wouldn’t listen. 

“Do you want to hold on to me?” Bang Chan knitted his brows together and held out an arm.

“I,” you slurred, “can walk.” You tried to start your feet again, only to end up stumbling down. 

“I know you can,” Bang Chan said as he reached his hands out to stabilize you, “but — ah —  I’m really tired after today. Can you hold on to my arm so I won’t fall out of exhaustion?” 

You agreed to help him. Bang Chan waved to everybody still at the table before leading the two of you out to a black SUV. He allowed you to stumble your way in the back seats first before sliding in himself. He asked you for your address, which took many tries for you to accurately type it into his phone. 

You leaned your head against the window, staring at passing blurred lights as Bang Chan’s manager started driving. Just being away from the loud and bright environment seemed to have cleared your head a little, but the pounding would not stop. You cursed yourself for being so irresponsible on your first day, especially because you were still alone in this new country.   

“Hey,” you felt a gentle tap on your shoulder, “want some water?” You looked over to see Bang Chan holding out a plastic bottle with the lid screwed off. 

You languidly reached your hand out for the bottle and gulped down as much water as you could in one breath before handing it back to him. The street lights started getting blurrier as you tried to fight exhaustion, the muscles in your eyelids starting to get more and more uncontrollable. 

“Y/n.” 

“Hmm?”

“Don’t fall asleep yet, we’re almost there. Ten more minutes.” 

You couldn’t hear anything after that, however, as you felt your eyes give up on you and your body fall into a deep sleep. 

“Y/n… Y/n.” A familiar voice called.

You fluttered your eyes open, your head pounding. Not knowing where you were, you surveyed your surroundings in a panic. It seemed as though you were in the back of a car… Parked outside of your apartment building? 

“Hey, you’re finally awake.” Bang Chan’s voice entered your ear. It all came rushing back to you; the restaurant, the drinking, entering the SUV. 

“How long have we been parked here?” Your groggy voice sounded inhuman. You had to clear your throat a couple times. 

“It’s only been twenty or so minutes. I’m not allowed to leave the car, are you able to get home alone? I can ask my manager to go with you.” Bang Chan scratched the back of his neck. 

“I should be fine.” You mumbled, a bit embarrassed to have fallen asleep in the car of a person you just met that day. This wasn’t even his car, it was his manager’s. 

“Hey… can I put my number in your phone?” Bang Chan avoided your eyes. “Just so you can tell me when you get home.” He quickly added. 

“Okay.” You awkwardly handed him your phone with your contacts already opened. He quickly typed his phone number in before handing it back to you. 

“Text me when you get home. Remember to lock your door, okay?” 

You thank both him and his manager before hurrying back to your apartment. Your head was still pounding unrelentlessly as you pressed the elevator button for your floor. The events of today were still unprocessed in your brain. You met a potential friend, which was a highlight. However, you also met two higher up managers and an actual idol, only to get hilariously drunk in the presence of. At least it’ll make a good story to tell my mom. You thought. 

In no time, you made it in your apartment and locked the door behind you, remembering what Bang Chan told you in the car. You texted the new number in your phone. 

Y/n: Hi. It’s y/n. I just entered my apartment.

Not even a minute later, your phone lit up, signaling a new text message. 

Bang Chan: great!! remember to lock the doooor hahaha ( ◕ω◕✿ )

You subconsciously grin at your phone. Cute. Throwing your phone haphazardly on your bed, you begrudgingly began your night routine. After washing up and throwing on a random shirt from your closet, you fell on your bed ready to sleep. You were about to close your eyes when your phone lit up again with a ding. It was another text.

Bang Chan: Hey… Just so you know, if you ever feel unsafe around the office just tell me okay? I’ll always try to help you in whatever way I can.

[americxn]

How the Evans act when you’re in a bad mood

warnings: swearing, mentions of sex

TATE LANGDON

- Once he’s certain that he had nothing to do with your bad mood, he kind of just leaves you be, thinking that it would be best to let you simmer for a while before interfering. - When he decides that he’s bored and misses your company, he seeks you out, a bowl of ice cream clutched in his hands as a peace offering, even though he’s not the reason why you’re in a bad mood. - You would take the bowl from his hands with a straight face, immediately shovelling a spoonful into your mouth. - With a sigh, he would say: “You’re a pain in the ass when it comes to trying to cheer you up.” Without even looking at him you would reply with: “I learn from the best.” Your words come out mumbled around a mouthful of ice cream. - Only when half of your bowl is gone do you turn to Tate, thanking him and offering him a spoonful, which he doesn’t dare accept. - And then he takes you to your bedroom, forcing you to change into your comfy clothes, which you begrudgingly do whilst glaring at the wall. - But it’s worth it when Tate opens his arms for you and you almost trip over your own feet in your eagerness to be folded into his warmth. - “Do you wanna actually tell me what’s got you all moody?” He would ask softly. “Nope.” You would say simply, stifling a smile at his overly exaggerated sigh as he fell back onto the bed, taking you with him. - Breathing in the scent of him, your head on his chest, you would finally feel the edges of your frustration wearing off, Tate’s soft breaths ruffling some strands of hair atop you head. - After several minutes of cuddling into your boyfriend in silence, Tate would utter the dreaded question of: “Are you on your (man)period?” Even if you didn’t have periods, this would earn him a playful smack on the arm and a newly-irritated sigh into his chest. 

KIT WALKER - Kit didn’t even have to be told that you were in a bad mood, his demeanour changing the second you entered the room he was residing in. - “Are we gonna talk about it or no?” He would say cooly, looking up at you from his spot on the couch as you entered. You would turn your nose up at his offer. “Absolutely not.” You would state, flopping onto his body, Kit grunting, and positioning yourself so that your head was in his lap. “Just hold me.” You would mumble. - Kit would chuckle softly, his hand finding its way into your hair as you sighed and muttered incoherent whispers of anger to yourself, much to Kit’s silent amusement. - Kit would stroke your head in silence, honestly just happy to have you so close to him for so long but eventually you would sit up, the brunt of your mood having dissipated with Kit’s loving touch. - “Better?” He would murmur, making you nod happily. “Good.” Kit would state, shifting his weight so that he could flip you over, settling on top of you as you lay beneath him. - He would then lower his face to yours, his lips attacking your skin incessantly, refusing to let up until he heard you laugh beneath him. (franken)KYLE SPENCER

- Kyle, as a person who often suffered from low moods due to his difficulty in communication, could sense the moment when your mood would shift, immediately coming to your side and blinking at you in concern. - This could be annoying at times. - Sometimes, all you wanted to do was have some time to yourself, and although you loved Kyle to pieces, his constant presence could potentially worsen your mood, or sometimes even catalyse it. - The last time you were in a bad mood, you had directed your anger at Kyle when he began to trail you around the house uncertainly, causing you to raise your voice at him. Of course, you had felt terrible after this, your outburst not only worsening your mood, but sending Kyle into one as well; he hadn’t spoken a word to you until the day after. - So, you had explained to him that sometimes, as much as you loved him, you just wanted your own space. The next time your mood had suddenly dropped, he had approached you slowly, trying to gauge your reaction before either swooping in to make you feel better or leave you alone. - On the occasion that you didn’t want to be in Kyle’s presence, you would simply mutter a “sorry”, grateful when he scampered off and found something to do until you came to him.  - But, when Kyle’s comfort was wanted, you would smile softly at him, huffing a defeated laugh when he hurried to you, his embrace strong as he engulfed you in his warmth. - “Sad?” He would question glumly, at your silence giving you the option of “angry?” To which you would nod into his chest. - Kyle’s remedy for anger was baking: he would pile all the ingredients on the counter of your kitchen, silently passing you and bowl and a spoon and watching as you carelessly added the ingredients, stirring them all together angrily, most of the mixture splattering onto yourself and the surface of the counter.

JIMMY DARLING

- Jimmy is the type of person to make fun of you when you’re in a bad mood. It was his attempt of lessening your disposition. - Sometimes this worked, but sometimes it didn’t: Sitting alone under the shelter on the canteen tent, you huffed, frowning at the wood of the table in front of you. “Oof,” an amused shout came from behind you, causing you to turn you head in the direction it had come from. Jimmy swaggered towards you, his hand raised to his brow to block the sun from his eyes as he walked towards the shade of the canopy that you sat under. Scowling, you turned your head away from him, your shoulders curving inwards the hopes that he would get the message and turn around to let you brood. But of course he would do no such thing. “Someone’s in a bad mood.” He would comment, the old wooden bench you sat on wobbling from the force with which he plonked himself down next to you. “No shit.” You muttered, looking straight ahead.  “Geez, baby. What’s got you so worked up?” You turned to him with an unpleasant smile, the bite in your voice stark as you replied with “you and your insufferable attitude.” “Ouch.” He said, sounding completely unhurt by your comment. Your jaw worked as you became increasingly irritated by his presence. “Can you just fuck off? I love you and all but you being here is just making me get pissed at you.” He raised an eyebrow, his elbow coming to rest on the surface of the table, his chin falling into his palm in an action that gave you very much “like fuck I’m leaving” vibes. With a groan, you spun around, bringing your legs with you so that could stand from the bench. “Don’t follow me.” You ordered flatly. The bench creaked as he, too, stood, causing you to bristle. “Jimmy, I mean it.” You spun on him, your teeth gritted. He looked utterly unfazed at your tone, a small smirk on his lips.  “Make me leave you alone. Go on.” You knew what he was doing. He was trying to provoke you, trying to get you to fight with him so that you could let off some steam.  You sighed angrily. “No.” You said, turning and walking away. “Alright. Well I’ll be here when you decide you’re done being an ass.” He shouted after you, the shrug in his voice clear as you walked away, not taking his words to heart, his provoking intentions obvious. 

JAMES MARCH

- James would let you brood. He would notice your demeanour instantly, but he wouldn’t comment on it, instead leaving you to it or silently accompanying you in whatever you were doing. - In the off chance that you really didn’t want his company, all you had to do was shoot him a frustrated glance and he would be on his feet and out the door in an instant, only appearing again when you sought him out. - But when you wanted his presence, he would run you a hot bath complete with bubbles and sometimes even rose petals if he was feeling generous.  - “Here you are, my darling girl/boy/they” He would say fondly as he lead you by the hand to the bathroom, his heart fluttering at the little smile that his efforts would coax from you.  - Once you had submerged yourself into the perfectly warm water with a sigh, he would come to your side, kneeling beside the tub and reaching for the softest sponge you had, quickly rolling up his sleeves before lathering it with a pretty smelling soap. - With your head rested on the side of the bath, he would reach into the water with the sponge, softly running it along your skin and murmuring to you as you became more and more relaxed under his skilled touch. - “So, what is it exactly that has put you in such a mood?” He would venture as your eyes drifted shut. James was such a good listener, and an even better talker, listening intently as you rambled into the stillness of the bathroom, James nodding along and inputting his own agreements or thoughts as you did so. - It was in these moments that your love for James rammed into you with such a force that often you were reduced from a tight ball of irritation to a mess of emotion, your eyes filling with tears as James tended to you. - You would end up gazing at him intently as he spoke to you, his hands moving beneath the water of the bath, the ends of his sleeves getting soaked as he cleaned you. It was so intimate that very often, you couldn’t help but reach with wet hands for the front of his shirt, pulling him to you and landing a kiss to his lips before pulling him harder, your heart pounding as he chuckled breathily against your mouth, his clothes becoming absolutely soaked as he clambered into the hot water with you. - When the two of you eventually emerged from the water, the floor of the bathroom had become so drenched with suds and soap that ever Miss Evers shuddered at the thought of having to clean it.

KAI ANDERSON - Kai would just see you being in a mood as a reason to provoke you even more than he already did. - He loved when you snapped at him, standing up for yourself or throwing an insult at him; for whatever reason, there was something about you having an attitude that just really turned him on. - Strangely, Kai was usually very accommodating when it came to your emotions. If you were happy, he was always there to be happy with you or listen to you when you rambled through your tears or when you were angry, he would find a way to help you channel that feeling and let off your pent up anger.  - But when you were in a mood, Kai trailed after you, provoking you just to make you feel that much more frustrated, a feeling of smug accomplishment washing over him when you finally bit back. - Sometimes, very occasionally, Kai’s endless goading sometimes ended with the two of you engaging in very angry, hot as fuck sex, but very often you would simple shove your middle finger in his face and storm out of the house. Taking his car, you would drive around until his petrol light came on before returning home, driving around the neighbourhood a few times for good measure in petty revenge.  - The text message that Kai would send you the next day claiming that he almost didn’t make it to the gas station and that when he got home you were as good as dead always made his incessant stirring of your emotions seem worth it.

[dameronology]

everything i need {mando x reader}

summary: din has to rethink his life plans how that you’re by side - not that he’s complaining {i do have a taglist but it’s 1am and i simply cannot be arsed to find it, please accept my not very sincere and very tired apologies}

warnings: much language 

enjoy!! sorry for the lack of imagines lately, i’m back at work and working as a director on two of my group projects so i am neck deep in covid-related paperwork. 

- jazz

p.s this has not been proofread, because i am just that shit 

Din Djarin had never needed a reason to find a home. Settling down permanently wasn’t an option in his line of work. Permanence had never been part of his plan. 

Then again, a lot of things hadn’t been part of his plan. The Child certainly hadn’t; if you’d told him five years ago that his firstborn son was going to look like...well, like that, he probably would have drop kicked you into the next rim. It didn’t matter that he couldn’t imagine his life without the kid now, or that he would rain hell on anyone who would dare lay a finger on the toad-like toddler. His life had gone in a direction he never could have anticipated and his son wasn’t even the biggest detour. That was you. Din wasn’t even entirely sure where you’d come from or when you’d come into his life, but he would have first surrendered his ship and everything on it before even considering the notion of living without you. Whether it was simply luck, or whether there was some higher power who finally decided to give him a fucking break, The Mandalorian had a family. He was no longer a lone gunslinger with nothing to lose; now, he had everything to lose.

The fear that came with his newfound vulnerability was a small price to pay, however. In the quieter moments - when it was just you and him and the kid - he had no question in his mind that everything was worth it. Every fright, every concern, every agonising moment that Din spent overthinking and calculating a million and one ways to keep you both safe was completely and irretrievably worthwhile. It was a little unconventional but a family was a family. A clan of three. 

You didn’t often get to take breaks. They came every few months, usually whenever Din needed had had a particularly had job. You’d found your place halfway between helping him kick-ass and babysitting the Child (who at this point, was essentially your son too). It meant that days you were running across rooftops in Nevarro with a blaster in hand, and others you were running around after your kid, holding a diaper rather than a gun. The duality was astounding.

The last few weeks had been a little hard. There had been one bounty who had been relentless, and another who had tried to take a hit at you. It hadn’t taken long for you to put the bastard in his place but the Mandalorian had taken it a little more personally than you. Before throwing him into the carbonite, Din had broken a little more than six of the target’s ribs and given him a nice shiner on his left eye. He never minded when he was the one who had a punch or two thrown at him but when it was you? Din never took to it lightly. 

Once both bounties had been sent to their respective clients and you’d collected your rewards, Din had set the Crest’s path towards a jungle planet. It was one he had frequented a few years ago - before you, before the kid - and whilst it was a little desolate, it was safe. It was away from any Imps, any potential danger. It meant that you could both let your guards down for a bit and put your feet up. Plus, the Child had been dealing with cabin fever for the better part of two weeks and you were convinced you were going to lose it if you didn’t get the little fucker to some open space soon. Preferably one with lots of frogs, because he was not taking well to the freeze-dried food that you’d been fobbing him with him for the last few months. 

You were laying in an open field, weight propped up on your elbows as you glanced out into the grass over your sunglasses. Din was making his way back towards you, trudging through the long blades; the low evening sun was bouncing off the beskar of his helmet, causing you to scrunch your face up. You could tell from the way he was talking that he was exhausted. He’d been on kid duty all day (it was your turn tomorrow) and somehow, that was more tiring that any bounty. 

‘Where is he-’

Your question was answered before you could even finish it; the little creature suddenly appeared through the grass, hitting your shin with a thump. Digging his claws into your jeans, he scrambled up onto your legs, plopping into your lap and leaning against your stomach. He peered up at you with big brown eyes for a second, before twisting back around to rest his head against your chest for a nap. There went your evening plans.

‘Did he eat anything?’ You raised your arm out to Din, signalling for him to sit next to you.

Aside from his helmet, he had shed the rest of his armour. The material of the undershirt he was wearing was soft against your skin as you leant into his side, letting it a small hmph as you did. He instinctively wrapped his arm your waist - because even on a safe planet, Din was naturally protective - and pulled you closer, using his free hand to run a finger over the kid’s wrinkly head. 

‘I saw him swallow a frog whole.’ His modulated voice replied. ‘It’s still disturbing.’

‘Not as disturbing as when he ate the fish whole.’ You grimaced, glancing up at him. ‘The thing was bigger than him and he gulped it down. Biologically, it doesn’t work.’

‘Nothing about him makes sense.’ He said. 

‘The only thing that makes sense is that nothing makes sense.’ You joked. ‘But I guess we’ll find out a little bit more when we work out where the hell he actually came from.’

It was a subject you didn’t approach too much. You knew that one day, you’d have to hand him back over to his own species; it was all well and good to look after him when he was still small, but you had no idea what he was going to grow to be. Finding his home planet had sort of been a secondary quest for you and Din, between bounties. Given how slow the little bastard aged, time wasn’t too much of a concern. Knowing where to start was the problem.

‘I wish we could keep him forever.’ You quietly murmured. 

‘Me too, cya’rika.’ Din gave your shoulders a light squeeze. ‘But we have to do what’s right for him.’

‘I know.’ You nodded. ‘What do you think we’ll do after we’ve found his home? His species?’

It wasn’t something that Din had given much thought. He was so used to planning everything in the moment - hours ahead, at most. He hadn’t thought in terms of days, let alone weeks or years. It made sense to, because you weren’t going anywhere. He had an opportunity to have a life outside of being a bounty hunter; you’d shown him that much. He’d found a home with you - a sense of contentment and belonging - but in a physical sense, he’d never thought about settling on a planet. When he was younger, the idea of having his own children and his own clan had played on his mind, but it had faded as the years went by. Maybe it was time to revisit the idea.

‘We could get married.’ Din quietly suggested. ‘Start a clan of our own. Something permanent.’

‘I didn’t realise that the word permanent was in your vocabulary.’ You replied. 

‘It wasn’t. Not before you.’ He said. ‘There was a lot of things I never thought about before you.’

‘A clan?’ You intertwined your fingers with his, giving his hand a light squeeze. ‘In a few years, absolutely - but I am not doing it on that pile of junk.’

‘That pile of junk got us here.’

You rolled your eyes, shaking your head - but there was a smile on your face. ‘We don’t have to think about it now. One step at a time.’

There was silence for a minute, as you both pondered to yourselves. In the same way you hadn’t been part of Din’s plan, he hadn’t really been part of yours. When you’d met him, you’d never expected to fall in love with him. You couldn’t see his face, or his emotions or his feelings - but after a while, you saw him. It was though you had seen straight through the armour and right into his very soul without either of you trying. You were first person to see him as Din, and not as the Mandalorian. You understood his humanity, and the fact he wasn’t always a warrior; it meant he could let his walls down around you, and seek support and solace in a way he’d always thought to be terrifying. And it was, at first, but now it felt natural and healthy. He had you and you had him. Nothing else mattered.

‘I’ll go wherever you go.’ Din broke the quiet, eyes falling down to where the child lay in your lap.

‘You’d do that for me?’ You rested a hand on the side of his helmet; it was cold against your skin, but the gesture was there. ‘You’d give us all this up for me?’

‘I’m not giving anything up.’ He replied. ‘When I have you, I have everything I need.’

Din had always been blunt and straight to the point: sometimes it was a blessing, sometimes it was a curse. Right now, it was completely and entirely a virtue. It meant that you didn’t have to second guess his feelings for you, or worry about him leaving you. Everything he said to you was a promise. Talks of your future were mutuals goals, things to look forward to together. 

‘I love you.’ You pressed a kiss to the edge of his helmet. 

‘I love you too.’ Din replied. 

‘So let’s retire right now and get a moisture farm on Tatooine-’

‘- don’t push it.’ 

[fishytrouble1]

Sidemen become Uncles

TbjzlxReader Fanfiction

Summary: You and your fiancé found out your pregnant but how will his mates, the sidemen, react.

A/N - Y/N/N Stands for your nick name that you have or would want a partner to call you.

Flashback - 4 months ago

You couldn’t quite believe what you were looking at. You turned your head to look into your fiancé’s eyes, to find his were just as shocked as yours. But you could so see pure love and happiness mixed within that initial shock.

As you look at him and he at you, you both start beaming before you start crying from happiness. yet something made you feel nervous at the same time but you couldn’t quite pinpoint what it was.

He pulls you into his side and gives you a gentle kiss on your forehead before taking the positive pregnancy test into his own hands to make sure that it was 100% real and not just a figment of his imagination.

“I can’t believe it, Y/N we’re really going to be having a baby. A mini you or a mini me.” He whispers and smiles.

“Yeah Tobes, we are”. You reply before kissing him ever so intimately, but as you go on it becomes more passionate and before you knew it, you had spent the entire night making love to your partner for life.

END OF FLASHBACK

You were currently on your way to Simon and JJ’s apartment, as the boys were shooting there today, with Talia and Freya in tow. You had all just finished your girl’s day, which was just a shopping spree in reality for your baby.

Apart from your families Talia, Freya and Josh were the only other people who knew about your situation. You and Tobi had discussed quite early on whether to tell the rest of the Sidemen straight away but you wanted to wait until you were in a much safer stage of the pregnancy/ You both also wanted to enjoy it a little more as a couple without to many people knowing and getting involved.

You were just stepping through the entrance of their building when your phone started going of in your pocket.

Tobi - Hey Y/N/N, the lads and I are now finished shooting if you girls are                      getting tired and want to head back?

Y/N - Perfect timing as we are now in the lobby of J’s and Si’s apartment. Also             we got the things we discussed sorted and they are ready to go.

Tobi - You know you’re the most amazing person for sorting that out. Love you,              see you in a few. x

Y/N - I know I’m amazing and love you too. x

“Hey Y/N, you alright? Is it the baby?” Freya asks noticing that you ahd stopped walking.

“No it’s not the baby, It was Tobi just messaging me to see where we were, as they’ve finished filming now. I also let him know that we picked up the surprise”. You smile.

“The lads will be so shocked but I’m sure they’ll be just as happy as me and Frey were when we found out. Lets just hope none of them pass out from realising there’s going to be a kid running around.” Talia laughs at the thought before ushering both you and Freya into the elevator.

Talia unlocked the door to the boys’ apartment whilst shouting, very loudly, “Boooooyyyysss!!!! I’M HOOOOME!”

You could hear all of the guys laughing at her antics as you started entering the living space. Upon entering you saw all 7 sidemen sat on or around the couches before you catch HIS eye. In doing so he gets up, gathers you in his arms and kisses you, but you’re cut off by a resounding, “oooooo” sound coming from the rest of the sidemen.

“If I were you I would be careful as Y/N here has bought you all dinner and if you carry on she might just not give it to you.” Freya threatens them smirking. The boys go silent at the thought of not getting food but the whole room starts laughing at how serious they all became.

You all settle on or around the couches talking, laughing, and eating. When you’d all finished, you looked at Tobi and directed your head to the shopping bags in the corner. Letting him know that it was time to give the guys the special gifts you’d gotten for them.

“So for a main channel video I decided to get you all gifts as a thank you for sticking by me through so many years and Y/N’s going to film your reactions of when you open them”. He explained with them all nodding in understanding.

Yes that was a minor lie but it’ll be worth it in the end to see their reactions. To be able to film it without them getting suspicious we needed to lie slightly but at some point in the next couple of months, Tobi was going to upload the video to share the news with his fans. This was because he wanted his fans to know why he wouldn’t be uploading as frequently for a little while.

Tobi grabbed the boxes and gave them to each of the boys, making sure they got the correct ones. They all started looking at each other confused in hopes someone knew what was going on. Luckily none of them realised that Josh was only acting, except for Freya and Talia who were sat of on the side waiting for their reactions.

You had got the camera ready and made sure it was filming before you sat next to Tobi and you let Tobi instruct them to open the boxes.

Each gift had a personalised football shirt from the teams they each support with the number they used for the Sidemen FC match on the back and the name on the back, instead of being their names, read ‘Uncle’. The gifts also had a picture of the sonogram with a loading symbol from a game on it saying ‘downloading...5 months complete’.

All the guys, except for Josh, were so perplexed by what they had received but once they had figured it out they all looked at the both of you with wide eyes before rushing over to congratulate you both. 

“If your 5 months, how are you not already...you know?” Harry asks, using his hands to demonstrate a belly bump. You laugh at the fact he had to act out what he meant.

“I am, but not enough that it can’t be hidden by really baggy clothing”. You explain whilst lifting your baggy cardigan and shirt to reveal your small and just noticeable baby bump.

Their eyes widen at how well you managed to hide it, even Josh this time. After the shock had settled they each came over and bent to speak to the baby you were growing. (Which you thought would be awkward, but really was quite adorable).#

You guys spent the rest of the night discussing potential baby names, many of the guys suggesting their own. You and the girls discussed the baby shower, which made the boys all start another conversation, obviously not interested in having lots of girls screaming about baby clothes. That conversation though turned into the boys offering Tobi their help with building a nursery for the little one as you weren’t allowed to lift a finger for the next couple of months.

You let them believe you weren’t going to lift a finger, as to not hurt their feelings, but that wasn’t happening. As you turn to Tobi, you kiss him as he places his hand onto the belly were your baby was, making you smile widely at the amount of support and love in this room.

[rachiesratirementhome]

Meet the new baby, Froggy! 🐸🥺🐀

Froggy is a bit different, she carries a spontaneous mutation which has terminated her spine right at the base of the tail: in other words, she's a Manx!

She was born in Queensland and came to the rescue with full documentation of her lines, so while Manx doesn't exist in the Australian fancy rat community currently, there are no concerns that she or her relatives come from outside the country.

She's a genetic 'pop-up', and she wasn't the first in her (now terminated) line, which means that her mutation is heritable, she could be bred to make more Manx.

Unfortunately, Manx animals come with a slew of health concerns. As usual, there isn't financial incentive for strong studies into the welfare of Manx mice and rats as pets, but googling "Manx cat" quickly turns up a list that matches what we've seen in mice: spina bifida, hind leg paralysis, bowel issues, spinal deformities, twisted pelvis... If the termination is too low, Manx mice are typically culled for their undesirable "piggy tails" while if they're too high, the babies die in utero and are reabsorbed, or die at birth.

I've been speaking with a lot of Manx mouse breeders over the past year after many Manx mice came into our care whilst supporting the RSPCA with a case. Many of them confirmed our worries about the health issues associated with the gene - a few said their Manx are "fine" but no-one had ever taken a Manx mouse to the vet for assessment.

To learn more, with the assistance of a former Manx mouse breeder who has since stopped breeding them because of what was found, we have cleaned the skeletons of several Manx mice from different sources, and the findings were horrific. Even many of those who looked structurally fine had spinal deformities, some mild and some extreme, you just can't see it from the outside.

Who knew a gene that messes with the spine could be a bad idea? 🙄

Do we want all of this added to the list of common causes for vet trips in our Australian rats? Hell no.

That cute little hamster bum might be sweet enough to make a breeder rich, but it's not worth the decrease in health and quality of life for the animals. No amount of profit or aesthetic is worth making an animal suffer, in our opinion. We'll never understand those who aim away from (or ignore) health and temperament - seeing how the #Pidgelets have suffered for those motives is enough for me.

Manx has popped up in Australian rats before, and it will again, that's just the nature of genetics.

Breeders in the past have found that breeding Manx together causes horrible deformities, and decided they shouldn't be bred or distributed, a decision I enormously respect. But eventually something will get into the hands of someone whose priorities stray far from health and temperament, and it will be the entropion patchworks all over again.

When that day comes we want to be as well informed and experienced as possible so we aren't playing catch-up on community education, so Froggy here is going to be an advocate for "just because we can, doesn't mean we should", and we'll work with our vet to get some imaging done and get a clearer picture of how her particular mutation has expressed AND how it affects her. Hopefully she's won the Manx roulette and is one of the good ones!

What is really exciting is that Froggy's previous owner decided to prioritise her health and happiness by ensuring that she wasn't made available to anyone who would see to breed her, for financial gain. Thats the "voting for animal welfare with your feet/dollars" that we advocate so hard for. Froggy could have been sold to someone whose priorities are to make money or brag. She could have been set up for a life of back to back litters in potential poor conditions with no opportunity for appropriate vet care or enrichment.

And I don't know about you...but I don't want the extra vet bills when the Manx hits the pet market. Respiratory conditions and tumours are expensive enough do deal with.

Instead Froggy was entrusted to our care, to live, eat, nap and enjoy her Ratirement as a community educator and valued resident. She is going to thrive in a life worth living!

On the topic of Froggy herself, she is an absolute darling and we are so in love with her. Because her balance isn't great, she doesn't want me to "fall out of the cage" and drags my hands into the cage like she's carrying a kitten, making sure I'm safely away from the edge when I say hello. She does it to the other rats too, but #Snack is quickly training her out of it.

She didn't know about pats or treats at first and didn't want to interact, but a couple of weeks in and she's running out to greet us and licking! She even slept on Chris for over an hour yesterday while the two napped on the couch together.

She's young, inquisitive, and gets along with the others, especially #Pibbles and #Delilah, who is living with my crew during her rehabilitation after that enormous tumour removal. This morning she tried chimken, she had no idea what it was, but after a tentative lick her whole face lit up like "oh hell yeah!"

We are so in love with her.

We wanted to give you all some context for why she is the way she is, and why she's nothing to be sought after, but also not something we should hide, because with education we can be one step ahead when this pops up again.

Look forward to more little Froggy bum! - Rachie

[caktii]

Shouma Toriashi - my edgy, unfashionable king (a short summary)

I'm back baby! Hiyall, I read the latest chapter (Vol 5, Ch. 21) and I got struck by inspiration. Stay tuned for some more ramblings on one of our favourite teen(?) criminals.

So Shouma is an interesting character, I don't think he strays far from the common 'tsundere with a soft spot' trope but I have picked up on a few fun tidbits that pull him away from the crowd.

One, Shouma is curt, emotionally flat and reserved, perhaps even a little subdued- perfect yakuza material. He isn't originally yakuza but he slides right in like a knife through a dead fish. Having re-read the manga I noticed something I should've before, and that he's a classic case of 'traumatised child turned aggressive boi'. In one of the panels (pls let me know if there were some liberties taken with translation etc., I have no clue), but when Kirishima looks over his background info on Shouma, it states that his mother died after she 'fell down the stairs on her way home from work', which- I don't know about you- to me is layperson terms for 'killed by abusive husband, but we swipe this under the carpet because that shit doesn't happen here'. Before he was then passed to his grandmother, then uncle, then his father before falling to the Soumei family.

You know which red flags this sets off for me? Poor relationships, poor models, no support networks, his social abilities should be kaput with that info alone. He would've grown up fearing and hating the world whilst also needing to work with it to survive- hence his presentation when we first meet him. High, volatile and violent. A salad of all the nasties a child could have.

But with this in mind, he's almost good fit for the yakuza, but as a functioning individual, I didn't see him conforming to any area of society, yakuza included. Not unless it was under lock and key. But as we see, he does. He becomes a member of the Soumei family, finishes school and goes to university, all without a prison sentence.

How? The harsh waves of storm Shouma calmed, after he met our heroine.

What's fun to me is his reaction to Yoshino. I'm not sure if it's her innate ability to tame the wild, but I think she represented a stability that he was lacking his whole life. When she stumbles on him trying to cut up his father, her reaction isn't the corny 'oh no you shouldn't do that he's your father!' its 'hand me the knife, he'll be dead and you won't go to prison'.

For the first time in his life- Shouma has been validated. Someone listened to him, sympathised with him and said 'you're right' whilst loading the gun. And if that wasn't enough, she takes him in. Not as a cheque, but as family. Shouma found a home.

This shocks him so much he has a Zuko-style fever of change (for anyone whose seen ATLA).

This leads us to his current relationship with Yoshino, and later interactions with Kirishima. He loves Yoshino, no doubt. The nature of this love is ambiguous, but one thing is clear, she is the most important person to him, so when a tiger in the grass in the form of Miyama Kirishima appears, he is visibly threatened.

But what I think is intriguing is that he and Kirishima are one in the same, yet polar opposites. They're both highly dangerous, volatile and batshit insane individuals, yet docile around Yoshino. She recognises him, accepts him as who he is with no questions asked. And as such, will do whatever she wants, no questions asked.

I know I focus on Kirishima and Yoshino a lot, but Souma has so much potential to be just as strong. Though he's hidden behind his lackadaisical nature, when the right button is pushed... he is explosive. If he didn't find his calm in Yoshino, I would not hesitate to say that he would be just as bad as Kirishima.

Not only does he have the looks, physical prowess and violent disposition, he also demonstrates an ability to navigate relationships should he feel like it. All it would take would be a spark, a loss, some skilful nurturing and bam. We've got another Kirishima.

I think he recognises that he and Kirishima are similar, and that's what sets him off so much. He sees his potential, he sees what he could be, but he doesn't want it. Not if it could endanger his place next to Yoshino. To him, there's nothing worth compromising his safe space with her.

But there's our kicker. A compromise must be made should she get married, and he loathes this.

I think we've only had a taste of what Shouma can be, and I for one, am so excited to see him blow up even more. I

As always, I give my love to the translators, and to all those who listen to my ramblings.