#as a psych major it’s such delicious food | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

funtimesatwork · 3 years ago

Text

1b. Diego’s First Day.

Welcome to Funtimes At Work, a Five Nights At Freddy’s fanfiction! What follows under the cut is the first chapter of the story, ‘Diego’s First Day.’ This chapter is 10,074 words long. In order to make this post easier to manage, the chapter is cut in half. This half is 4,421 words long. This chapter half is available to read under the cut.

“So now it’s just us two,” the caretaker pointed out.

“Don’t remind me,” Freddy began, “I’m only letting you sit next to me so you don’t annoy anyone else. Ballora’s giving her performance by now and I only have,” a pause as he checked his internal clock “forty-five minutes before I’m due for mine.”

“Right! And I do believe you’re to clear all of your acts with me?”

That was met with a glare that, if looks could kill, would result in a fine red mist being all that remained of the fleshy one.

“I already told you, we call the shots.”

“But you need my signature.”

His own words, used against him.

“Fine. It’s just a standard comedy routine with some slapstick with Bon-Bon moving over my body like a spider.”

“I think I can sign off on that.”

“But you haven’t heard how it ends! We get this little guy on stage, his name’s Diego, and we decapitate him!”

That was squealed out, once again highlighting the bear’s love of dark humor.

“Ouch, Freddy, ouch.”

“If it helps, the blade would be sharp! I don’t like rusty ones!”

“Well, aren’t you ever the professional? Alright. I’m just going to go pick up some chips, you don’t mind if I eat them near you right?”

“Why would I ever take offense to my enemy doing things that prolong his life?”

“Exactly! You’re the best, Freddy. I need to think of a cute nickname for you. Fred. Freedy Freddy. The Fredster!”

The unusual ursine could only posture an odd glare at the man who seemed entirely oblivious to just how deeply he was unwanted, and for that matter, unneeded. Freddy wasn’t sure why Corporate insisted on giving him a manger: Baby didn’t have one and she was just fine.

After a few blissfully quiet minutes, Diego returned with a pack of nacho-cheese flavored Doritos. Delicious! Opening the bag and taking some, Freddy glared at him.

“Did you want some?”

“No.”

“Why the staring?”

With a shrug that could only scream ‘eh, what the hell,’ Funtime Freddy decided that honesty was the best policy. Implicitly, he just wanted to be so honest he’d spook Diego off from continuing his ventures in employment here.

“I’m trying to decide how to kill you.”

“Go for poisoning my food. I can’t help it, I just love eating.”

“Well now that’s too obvious! Maybe I’ll stuff you inside my chest and let you starve. Do you know how fun that would be? Your filth being your own extinction…”

“But then you’d have my filth all in you! Don’t you deserve better?”

Freddy was growing increasingly frustrated at Diego’s apparent inability to be threatened. What was it with this guy?

“You’re really trying to die, aren’t you?”

“I have faith that you won’t actually kill me.”

“I’m a giant bear with a temper. Do you really think only faith will save you?”

“A question for theologians, Fred. I’m just a psych major trying to earn some extra cash.”

“Is that extra pocket change really worth having to deal with me,” he cooed out as if in love.

“It’s pocket change to you, but to me it’s a lot. Hard to argue with sixty thousand a year.”

“Salaried.”

“They’ll work me well over that, I’m sure, but it’s good for now.”

So, Freddy also had access to Diego’s pay-roll information. Lovely. The bear already knew where he lived, what harm could come from him knowing exactly how much he was paid?

“Sixty-two thousand, three hundred ninety-five dollars, and thirty-four cents a year.”

“Right on the dot, Fredster!”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Well, what’s your preferred nickname?”

“Freddy is all I want you to call me.”

“Can I at least call you ‘friend’?”

“He-,” it seemed the bear attempted to swear. He seemed frustrated with his inability to. “There aren’t even any kids nearby! But, the answer’s no.”

Diego took out his phone, just to check the time. Ten-twenty in the morning, just forty minutes until showtime!

“So, how do you warm up for the show?”

“We don’t. We just go and do it.”

“Signs of a true professional.”

“Diego, Bon-Bon and I have done this for thirty-five years. We know how to do this with our suits powered down.”

“That reminds me, Freddy! Are you the endoskeleton, or the suit?”

“Are you just the bones or the flesh?”

“Good point!”

The two sat in a, strangely comfortable, silence for a few more minutes. Freddy woke Bon-Bon up and placed him back on his hand. The time was ten-thirty, and he was ready to go.

“We should head back to the Auditorium.”

“Oh, we? Are you inviting me?”

Giving Diego one of his signature ‘I really want to kill you’ glares, the two entered the elevator. It was a short and quiet ride to floor one. Freddy took a deep breath in, and reactivated his entertainer mode. He took his place on his stage, standing perfectly still: it was as if he had no free will at this moment. The children entered the room, and Diego entered his office. He had a camera on his desktop pointing out the window: just so he could record this performance.

It lasted two hours, which was much longer than Diego would’ve thought. From eleven to one, Freddy never broke character. He also didn’t threaten anyone, and everything went on without a hitch: truly, he was a master at his craft. Diego mused that, perhaps, thirty-five years and layers of programming would allow you to master anything. He checked Funtime Freddy’s schedule: his first show was from eleven to one, then three to four-forty five, then five to six and he was done for the evening.

The time was now one-fifteen, and Diego was in the auditorium helping the janitorial staff to clean up. He needed something to do, at least, and he figured it was always prudent to get in the good graces of the custodians. Freddy pitched in as best he could, which was surprising - maybe it was something he had to do? A facet of his entertainment mode, and nothing more. Perhaps just there to teach the kids to clean up.

Perhaps he was just doing this to have an excuse to get closer to Diego and remind him of just how much bigger, stronger, and smarter he was.

When the party was fully cleaned up, the caretaker went into his office. The bear followed.

“You were excellent, Freddy!”

“I know I was! I’m an entertainer!”

“I won’t lie, it’s a little creepy how easy it is for you to switch between being independent and being bound to your programming.”

Oh, he was going to exploit that. He was going to exploit the utter hell out of that.

“Well, anything for the birthday boy! Bon-Bon, let’s make sure he has an extra-special birthday blast!”

The bear’s posture was straight, robotic, and a strange blend of janky, mechanical, and yet organic, and smooth.

“Maybe I should not have told you that that was creepy. What if I said it was cute?”

He immediately snapped out of his programming.

“Now I never want to enter that mode again.”

“Well don’t let me be the cause of that.”

“Would it make you feel so guilty you quit if you were?”

“Not particularly.”

Freddy huffed out. Nothing ever was so simple with Diego, now, was it? He made his first caretaker quit only a week into it, and his second two months into it.

Was he losing his touch? Then again, he could be patient. He’d simply out-last Diego. Something would get him to leave, something always did.

At any rate, the two moved into Diego’s office. The caretaker huffed as he sat back down in his chair, happy to be able to relax - though in truth that wasn’t in short supply at this job.

“Hey, Freddy?”

The animatronic looked up, waiting for whatever it was the human had to say.

“Take this.”

Diego pulled out the taser from the drawer, keeping it in its pouch, and handing it to him.

“...What?”

“You heard me. Take it. I don’t want it. Do whatever you want with it. Toss it from the rooftop for all I care.”

“You realize this is the only way I’ll ever do anything you say, right?”

“I don’t care. It’s not right to just shock you into submission.”

Bon-Bon piped up: “see? I told you he was different!”

“This is just a play, Bon-Bon. He’ll say that we stole it and ask for an even bigger one.”

Diego’s heart nearly shattered into a million pieces. He was already quite the idealist, quite the bleeding heart, so this was entirely… heart-wrenching for him to hear.

“It’s not. Here,” Diego stated as he pulled out a sticky note-pad. He quickly scribbled a short message on it, “read it.”

Taking the note, Freddy read it out loud:

“I, Diego Vázquez, do not want this or any other electrical compliance device used on Funtime Freddy or Bon-Bon.”

Did he even have the authority to say that? This had to have just been some symbolic ploy at Freddy’s trust. It’d be broken, in due time. It always was. He took the note anyways, and the taser he simply held in his hand. He could turn this on Diego. He could make him feel as hurt as he did.

Yet he wasn’t heartless. He was not as evil and as uncaring as he’d like to think he was. It would be unjustifiable to use this on Diego. He simply put the taser back on Diego’s desk and got up. “Keep it. I don’t need your pity.”

“Freddy.”

He began to walk out of the room.

“Freddy?”

He stopped. Bon-Bon seemed to have told him to do so, in their sort of shared circuitry.

“What?”

Bon-Bon tried to assuage his concerns.

“Freddy…”

Diego got up and moved to him. Diego was five-eight to Freddy’s cool six-foot, not counting his hat.

He gave Freddy a tight hug, just rubbing the bear’s back.

“What… are you doing?”

“A hug, Freddy. You’ve been hugged before, right?”

“By children. Maybe a few parents.”

“And by employees?”

A pause. That was all Diego needed to hear, or rather, what he needed to not hear. Freddy didn’t try to return the hug, though, Bon-Bon did. Popping off of Freddy’s hand, he clinged to Diego’s shirt. “Even if he won’t say it, we are appreciative! We just aren’t used to being treated like people, Diego!”

“I guessed as much, Bon-Bon. It’s okay. You don’t have to trust me. You don’t have to love me. You don’t even have to like me. Just know that I won’t hurt you, okay?”

“I know you won’t Diego!”

Freddy remained silent. He just closed his eyes, daring to let himself feel okay for once.

Maybe he could allow himself the gall to dare to dream of a brighter future. He’d hate himself, however, if he opened his eyes to see Funtime Foxy, Ballora, and their caretakers watching from the entrance. Rock snuck a picture.

This, this was worth its weight in gold.

Eventually, the hug came to an end. Eventually. The three took their sweet time in pulling away from each other.

“Are you okay, Freddy?”

The bear raised a hand and put it over Diego’s mouth, not intending to harm him, just keep him quiet. He was deep in the chambers of his mind, remembering everything. He remembers the first day he performed, the first day any of them performed: the eighth of December, 1986. It was a frigid Monday in Utah when the pizzeria had opened, and an even more frigid reception. They were state-of-the-art, sure, but the Fazbear Murders hadn’t exactly had time to fade from the public memory. He remembered his original purpose well: to murder children. That’s something he actually hated, despite his crass jokes about the subject. Though all the Funtimes had at least been complicit in murder, Funtime Freddy had actually taken a life himself. Circus Baby had too, or at least, had held a child until William was able to extract and finish the job himself.

He hated those memories.

But now? He could remember. He felt safe around Diego, in a strange way. Perhaps it was the man’s willingness to hand over the one weapon he had against him. Maybe it was the constant propaganda being pushed into him by Bon-Bon. Maybe it was something else entirely, but at any rate, he felt safe enough to remember.

Maybe he’d tell Diego one day. But that day was not today. He still wanted to be seen as a jerkass bear, at least, for a few days longer.

He hated being seen as a mushy softy.

Diego could only stand there, noticing the others watching. He gave them a gentle wave, signaling with non-verbal cues that he had no idea what Freddy was doing. They seemed supportive, though.

Diego held Bon-Bon in his hands, cradling him as if he were a baby of some sort. After a few more eternities of this, Funtime Freddy opened his eyes.

“This doesn’t leave this room.”

“I promise I won’t tell anyone.”

That was the truth. He wouldn’t tell anyone, they had all already seen it. Even Baby had stopped by to examine why four people were all gazing into Funtime Freddy’s area without calling for paramedics.

The group scampered once Funtime Freddy opened his eyes, though. Best not to be caught interrupting an intimate moment.

Sooner, rather than later, it had turned into two o’clock. Just four and a half more hours and the day would be over: a rather unusually productive first day in the history of Circus Baby’s pizzeria.

The two had decided to take a walk: this was the mid-day slump, when no one really came. Mornings and evenings are usually their busiest times on weekdays, though, Monday as a whole was a rather slump-y day. Not many people, apparently, celebrated on the first day of the business week.

Funtime Freddy and Diego walked about the area, Freddy himself taking a more active role. He was telling Diego about the history of the pizzeria, even what it used to look like before it was all extensively remodeled.

“Huh. You know, I always thought the wall in the auditorium looked a little weird, but I had no idea this entire floor was something else.”

“The crews did an alright job. I don’t like how boxy the rooms are, but it’s efficient I guess.”

“I would guess so. Oh! Hi Sam!”

There she was: the manager extraordinaire, staring at the two of them as if she had seen a ghost.

“Is… is everything okay?”

“Am I going crazy, or is Funtime Freddy actually being nice to you?”

In response to that heinous accusation, Freddy (gently) elbowed Diego.

“It was nice while it lasted,” Diego chuckled.

“Freddy, are you going to try and run Diego out of a job?”

Bon-Bon actually responded, Freddy more than happy to let him handle the softer side of the emotional spectrum: “maybe he’ll stay for a whole three months!”

“I think I’d like to stay longer.”

“Ah, excellent! Now, Freddy, do you mind if Diego and myself have a private conversation?”

“Not at all, Sam! I was getting tired of talking to this meat bag anyways!”

With that, he was off. Back to his usual, slightly unhinged, self.

“What on Earth have you done to make him not threaten your life, Diego?”

“Well, he still does, but it’s more playful. I think.”

“I’ll take that over the serious threats he’s made. What did you do to him?”

“I didn’t shock him.”

“Really? That’s it?”

“Apparently, when you treat people like people, they’re much more behaved.”

“Alright. Just… don’t be scared to use it, if you really have to. Sometimes he gets so riled up not even Bon-Bon can calm him down.”

“I’ll take my chances. Actually, if you don’t mind, I’d like it removed from my office. I read the protocol: it only states we need to have one available on request rather than in our offices, and I think he’d do better with it gone. I don’t want it near me, anyways. It just seems cruel.”

“It’s a sad fact that it is sometimes necessary. I don’t want it overused, but it's better than letting them kill. But, alright. Just turn it into my office and I’ll keep it on reserve for you.”

“Thanks, Sam. I think I’m really getting through to him. Oh, also, question. Can they eat?”

“They can, actually! They have a false digestive system. It’s a little too complex for you to work on for, probably your first week or two, but I do think you’ll eventually get trained on it. Why do you ask?”

“Just curious. I might wanna share a slice of pizza with him or something.”

“Oh! Speaking of, if you’d like you could take your lunch whenever you want. I don’t think I managed to tell you that, but, we don’t really have a set schedule - what with all the chaos of there being children here almost constantly.”

“That’d be nice!”

“Employees eat free! Our way of saying ‘thank you.’ And for you especially. Here, let’s walk,” Sam stated as she led Diego towards the break room, “I honestly thought Freddy would run you out before the day ended. Forgive me, but you're not the most imposing person. I wanted to pair Rock with Freddy, but he already had a manager at the time. They turned out to be amazing with Foxy, so, I suppose it was all fine in the end. Janice’s been here the longest, and, I can’t imagine separating her and Ballora. She’s gone through a lot in her life, I’m sure she’ll tell you about it. But as for you, well, as I said you’ll have to forgive me. I suppose looks are deceiving though. What did you say you were majoring in? I know you’re a college kid.”

“Psychology! I’m doing a minor in linguistics.”

“How’re you handling classes with a full-time job?”

“The classes are online, and if I’m honest, I like the time this job lets me have for them.”

“Smart thinking. You know, if you did get run out by him, I would’ve offered you the position of being Circus Baby’s manager. She’s been without one for two months now, but, in truth she doesn’t really need one. She’s always been very quiet and behaved, it was Freddy that needed one the most.”

“Bon-Bon seems to keep him in-line.”

“You’d think but, like I said, sometimes he just gets so antsy it’s horrifying. That’s the time when we have to shock him.”

“Do we have any idea what causes it?”

“I only wish we did. I think it’s some sort of deep-seated programming bug.”

“Hopefully I don’t see that.”

“Ah, but you might. Well, anyways, I think you probably have the best shot of either preventing that, or, getting him down from there. He usually enters that mode when one of his evaluations is coming up, that’s a full-body maintenance routine. It’s done every few months, just to keep them active and safe.”

“I see. Weird, then. But, hey, I think he’ll be fine. My first day and I’m already connecting with him, I’m really liking it.”

“It’s nothing short of miraculous, what you’ve done here. We’ll just have to see if this holds or not: but I feel confident in saying that it will.”

The two were in the canteen by now, each taking some pizza. Might as well, since that was basically what everyone here lived off of. That and burgers, fries, and every other greasy food imaginable. They had healthy options, for sure, but most defaulted to the greasy goodness of the prepared food here. The healthy options probably weren’t actually FDA-approved for human consumption, either. They always had a weird smell to them.

“Can the animatronics eat with us?”

“In theory. In practice they either never have the appetite, or, don’t really want to.”

The two ate their pizza all while making the usual workplace small-talk.

“So, how long have you been here?”

“Six years. I started in 2016, actually, it’s kind of a funny story. I took this job on a dare. You know all the rumors about this company, and my friends are all true crime enthusiasts. Some of them are actually on the police force.”

“I imagine they’re sick and tired of all the prank calls this place gets, though.”

“Not as much as you’d think, actually. Especially with that Mega Pizzaplex now, you ever been?”

“Just once, to check it out. It’s… shockingly big. Especially for a town that doesn’t have that many people, I’m sure you could fit all of us into it with room to spare.”

“Hah! That’s what I’m saying. But it gets tourists here, so, who really cares at the end of the day? Certainly not the mayor.”

“So, what do we get? The Pizzaplex seems like they get all the fancy toys and funding.”

“You’d be right on that. We get… whatever’s left behind, actually. The budget’s really weird, but I won’t bore you with management deets.”

“Well, hey, if you have the will then I have the time,” Diego stated. He was rather interested in the finer details of management - call it his love of gossip, but he wanted to know how things worked ‘behind the curtains,’ as it were.

“You really are something special now, aren’t you? Alright, well, since you are working here I’ll let you in on it. So our budget is actually delivered on a ‘first-come first-serve’ basis. Means we have to fight against each other if we want anything.”

“Damn.”

“Damn is right. Pizzaplex has the larger staff so they, by default, get most of the money. We mostly sustain ourselves through our sales.”

“Would not have guessed that, hm. It just seems so unfair, I mean, this place might not be half as big as the Pizzaplex but we’re still here. And we’ve been around longer than… most of the Fazbear chain restaurants, actually. How haven’t we burned down yet?”

“A question I ask myself every single day I’m here,” Samantha stated while giggling. Honestly, it was miraculous all by itself that the place wasn’t in utter shambles at the end of every day.

The two had finished their lunch and were back up to the first floor. Diego found himself back in his office, having given Samantha the taser for safe-keeping. The time on Diego’s desktop read two-forty-five, with the first few children trickling in for Freddy’s three-o-clock show.

It was rather uneventful, all things considered. Just a repeat of the earlier show, although with the names obviously replaced during the birthday song. How Freddy hadn’t gone mad from just doing this for three-and-a-half decades was entirely beyond the caretaker.

The show came and went, and the cleanup was frantic. Then came the five to six show, and with that, the day was over. It had all been a rather uneventful evening: Diego was mostly cooped up in his office replying to emails and finishing up some virtual trainings when he wasn’t taking stabs at his coursework. The time was six-fifteen, and his shift was over. Janice stepped into the auditorium, waving to Diego.

“Your first day is done, congratulations! How’d it go?”

“You know, I think it went pretty well. I think I got through to Freddy, so, I’m counting this as the most successful first day in the history of first days.”

She looked around, to make sure Freddy couldn’t hear. He was currently being looked over by maintenance personnel, throwing his usual fuss as Bon-Bon tried to calm him.

“That hug you two had was adorable! I don’t think I’ve ever seen him be so calm.”

“I surprised myself with that, actually. I think it was really Bon-Bon’s doing, without him I really do not think that would’ve ever happened.”

As if on cue, a gentler voice cut through them: “it was, as always, a pleasure to see. It’s rare to see such a careful personality get along with Freddy’s by any metric,” a line uttered by of course none-other than Ballora.

“Ballora! You two really do go together very well.”

“We could say the same for you and Freddy,” Ballora replied. In all truth, she was not at all wrong to say that.

The day had come to a close, and now it was just a quick little post-first-day debriefing with everyone. Rock and Foxy had made their way into the auditorium, and Samantha wasn’t very far behind. Everyone took a seat at the tables, the animatronics included, as they all went over the day’s sales and such. Diego and Freddy were mostly quiet, just observing the others do it - Diego mostly for the sake of learning, Freddy for the sake of not liking to speak at these things. He wasn’t in this for the money, but, well it was his life’s purpose now wasn’t it?

The entire time, Diego had a very affectionate Bon-Bon resting a paw on his shoulder. Freddy seemed mostly okay with this. Mostly. He still didn’t exactly trust Diego, but he might see how Bon-Bon would. That rabbit was always too trusting, too eager to see the good in people even if it was just a façade. That had gotten them hurt a few times, but Bon-Bon seemed relentless in his optimism.

The meeting had drawn to a close, and Diego bid Funtime Freddy and Bon-Bon a very simple goodbye. He couldn’t wait to start his second day at the job, and quite frankly, Freddy might admit to himself, and only himself, that he would be counting the hours until Diego returned at six am. He would certainly have a nice little chat with the other animatronics about Diego, how sweet and incorrigible he was. How utterly, painfully, incorrigible he was. That’s what the animatronics liked to do, at night anyways.

They enjoyed their gossip. That’s how they bonded and passed the time as they waited for morning: night was a place of being worked on and being left alone. None of them particularly enjoyed the sensation of being left alone, or even of the man-handling the nightly maintenance crew were known for, but that was the simple fact of it.

Freddy watched as Diego exited the building, got into his car, and left.

What a weirdly beautiful day it was.

#fnaf #five nights at freddys #funtimes at work #funtimes-at-work #chapter one #chapter 1b #fanfic #fanfiction #writer #writers on tumblr #chapter one is finally posted #chapter two coming out shortly :)

11 notes · View notes

burts-baked-bees · 5 years ago

Text

• Grilled Cheese Sandwich •

{A Michael Myers x Female!Reader Story}

The sound of butter frying against a metal saucepan filled the almost silent kitchen as a girl holding a buttered piece of bread looked to the browning grease with a smile. The sound reminded her of late night grilled cheese parties with her father after she waited up far too late for his arrival. With a slight bit of hesitation, she tossed the bread into the pan and yelped when the hissing liquid shot up slightly. She laughed at her own fooliary and turned back to the counter to retrieve a square of bright yellow cheese for her delicious creation. Her eyes left the counter for a moment and fled to the window facing the back yard as a loud bird chirped on the sill.

“Scared the crap outta’ me…” She huffed as she watched the yellow bird twitch its head and poke at its own feathers. Her e/c eyes began to unfocus from the animal before her and started to take in the green foliage around her small but quaint yard. She took in a deep breath as a small gust of wind blew in through the window and brushed past her face. The smell of the rich earth filled her nose as she looked to the cluster of trees that seperated the edge of her own yard from the neighbors. Amidst the deep greens and striking brown tree limbs a different color began to emerge.

A deep blue came into view between flashing leaves and Y/n felt her heart pick up pace.

She knew what color would come next.

Following the deep blue up she eventually met a patch of striking white amongst the trees. Her heart stopped as her eyes met the all too familiar mask of a hulking man keeping to the shadows of her yard. She stared at the shape in the trees for a moment as the wind began to blow again. The white backside of the leaves seemed to outline the man's frame more than before and Y/n sighed deeply. This wasn't the first time she had seen this figure lingering near her presence. For the past week or so she had taken in fully the fact that no matter where she was that looming shape was almost always nearby. She could be leaving the store or just out for a walk and she would have the feeling that she was being watched, and sure enough if she looked just behind her or across the street - he would be there.

The Shape of Haddonfield.

He was like her shadow, always close behind and never lingering. It was almost a comfort to know that someone was constantly keeping an eye out for her, but she couldn’t seem to shake the feeling that he was merely stalking her in order to best decide how and when to claim her as his next bloody victim. And yet, after what she surmised must have been months at the least, of stalking her he had not once made a move to harm her in any way.

Somehow that was scarier than knowing she was going to be killed.

Y/n was ripped from her staredown with The Shape when the smell of burning bread filled her nose. “Shit!” She gasped as she frantically turned back to the stove. Quickly she added the cheese and second piece of bread and flipped it over to find the first side of her sandwich a step away from being charcoal. She scowled at the smouldering lunch and groaned, “Goddammit…” She was not one to turn down food, especially when she was hungry, but the thought of her ‘perfect’ meal was slowly slipping through her fingers as she realized she hadn’t even begun the tomato soup.

Just outside her window The Shape began to stir. Now that she was at the stove, his view of her form was limited. He wasn’t even sure if she was even in the same room anymore, but he was far too locked into this room to even think about changing his spot of observation. The sudden smell of burnt food drifted out from the house in his sight and he cocked his head to the side. That was an odd smell to ever leave her kitchen, even when her mother was cooking there was never any hint that food had been burnt. His mind brought him to the moment just before when she stood in the glass pane and locked eyes with him. He knew now that she was somewhat aware of his lingering presence, but she had yet to go any further in acknowledging him then meeting his gaze for moments at a time. He enjoyed the moments when they were both aware of the other's form.

When she saw him, he saw her.

He still wasn’t sure why he hadn’t ended this particular hunt yet. There was just something about her. She seemed so out of place. She never acted like her peers, and in a way that was striking to him. He had picked her out of a crowd to be his next release of internal aggression and rage, but the longer he spent watching her, the more he began to notice little things about her that were so drastically different from those around her. There was something about her that nipped at a long repressed side of him. A place in his psyche that he thought Dr. Loomis had stripped from him long ago.

She wasn’t afraid of him.

Y/n looked back to the window for a brief moment to see if the figure had moved, and allowed a small smile to curl her lips when she noticed he hadn’t. She looked to the plate she had made for herself and pursed her lips. “I’ve got to be out of my mind…” She whispered to the flame alit her stovetop. With a quick nod she began preparing a second sandwich and filling a new mug with a hot helping of creamy red soup. She rustled around the kitchen in a burst of adrenaline filled energy, her mind racing a mile a minute and her eyes constantly checking her back window for a soothing glimpse of a white mask among the leaves.

The Shape watched in a mix of confusion and anticipation as the girl began flying about the kitchen, grabbing at food items she had already put away in their respectful cubbies. His breathing began to quicken as he watched her move to the small table in front of the sliding glass door leading to him just a few steps away. She placed a plate of food on the table followed by a mug and a glass of deep red juice. He half expected her to look to him once more before sitting down and beginning her meal, but as soon as the food was placed down she disappeared again and returned with a second set of dishes holding a mirror image of her own meal. He looked to the new plate confused; he could have sworn she was home alone. He knew her schedule backwards and forwards, and she was supposed to be home alone for the majority of today. Once her parents arrived home he would retreat to his own home to sleep for a short time, and then resume his stalking.

Y/n stood beside the table, her face turned to the placemats set before her and he watched her visibly sigh. His head tilted to the side in confusion as she removed her sunflower print apron and tossed it to the counter behind her. With that she looked to the door and took a great stride towards the glass. The Shape froze as she tugged the door open and turned her bright face to the trees where he was hiding. The wind hit her face like a wave of pure anxiety, and rustled through her clothes. He took a step back to cover himself deeper in shadow as she straightened up and cleared her throat.

“Listen..” Her voice carried out over the open yard and sent a shiver to his very core; she was addressing him. “You’ve been out there for hours. It’s chilly and windy and you haven’t moved.” Her voice wavered as she took into account just who she was attempting to speak with, “I made myself some lunch because I was hungry, and I made some extra in case--” She stopped her eyes meeting the empty holes in a white mask that surly masked his deep blue eyes. “In case you were hungry.”

The words left her mouth in a small shout as she forced herself to get them past her lips. She was looking right at him as the wind ripped past the space between them again. He remained motionless for what felt like an eternity as Y/n crossed her arms over her chest and leaned her weight on the doorframe. “Okay… I’m well aware you don’t talk, and I might be making a mistake even acknowledging you’re there, but I’m not going to let you just stand there and starve.” She looked to the home of her neighbors as she hushed her own voice, in fear of alerting the people next door to The Shapes presence in her yard. She took a deep breath and looked back to his motionless form a few yards from her, “I’m going to leave this door open, and if you want to come in and join me for lunch you can. If not…” She stiffened up not sure how to end this one sided conversation, “Uh… then… Have a nice day I guess.”

He watched intently as she nodded her head and retreated back to her table; her face a bright red and her limbs shaking. He couldn’t believe what had just transpired. She had spoken directly to him. And she didn’t tell him to leave…

Y/n sat down at the table and shifted in her seat, her heart beating like a bass drum. Even though her stomach was now in knots, and her head was cursing her for addressing the killer in the bushes, she brought her hands to the melted cheese on her pate and scooped it up on her finger. With a shaky sigh she ate the cheese and chased it down with a gulp of her juice. Not too long after she was fully immersed in her meal and enjoying the flavors she had created. Her mind almost forgot of the proposition she made but was soon reminded as a breeze passed through the open door and coated her in an invisible blanket of icy cold. She looked to the empty chair across from her and sighed, she had really thought the Haddonfield Boogeyman would take up her offer of joining her for lunch.

For all she knew, she had just given him an invitation to slip inside and slit her throat. She was letting her mind wander to the aftermath of her supposed murder. How her parents would react, what the school would do to remember her, how her friends would take the news. She was so lost in her own thoughts she didn’t even hear the large muddy boot step inside the doorway and unto her wooden kitchen floor. She was ripped from her morbid daydream when a new figue came into her view, just across from her.

Y/n stiffened up like a wooden post when she realized who had just joined her at the table.

There across from her at her small kitchen table sat the infamous Babysitter Murderer, The Shape of Haddonfield, the Boogeyman.

Michael Audrey Myers.

She swallowed hard as she soaked in the odd sight of him in her home. His large form dwarfed her at the table, and his dirty worn coveralls were a stark contrast against the light wood of the table and chair. His expressionless mask was the last thing she took in; the white face accented by straw brown hair and caked in dried mud and old blood. Every crack in the thin latex was now visible to her and she took a moment to register just how worn the mask was. For the first time, however, she was able to see something just past the mask.

Hiding just behind the misshapen eye holes Y/n could fully see the pair of very human eyes that belonged to the killer. She felt her whole body relax when she realized that he was in fact human under there, and not the monster everyone had portrayed him to be. One of his eyes however was scarred over and obviously blind. She felt a pang of pain in her chest as she processed this new found discovery.

All the pictures she had seen of the man before her as a child, he had both of his blue eyes intact. This could only mean this injury had happened to him while he was in medical custody. She felt her fear melt away as he raised his hands to the table and poked at the food on his plate. She noticed how incredibly beaten his hands were. They were more callous then skin, and what wasn’t hardened was a deep scar. His long fingers danced over the crisp butter soaked bread on his plate, and Y/n noticed how he looked almost confused at the food before him.

“It’s a grilled cheese.” She spoke, earning a slight jump from the shape before her. He looked to her and lowered his hands. His head tilted to the side in his normal fashion as he realized slowly that she was in fact still seated with him; she hadn’t run from him, but instead was beginning to speak to him again. “I guess they only had mushy foods where you grew up, huh?” He responded by looking to his left at the small hallway leading to her front door. He thought back to all the times he had watched her enter her home from the other side of that door, and now here he was seated inside the walls that kept her safe from people like him.

“Your name is Micheal… right?”

He snapped his head back to face her and she jumped. He was so used to hearing Loomis and angry nurses say that name. It had been ages since he heard his own name spoken so gently. He felt his chest flare up after the words left her mouth. Hearing her voice say his name was something he never knew he needed. “I’m sorry!” She yelped looking down at her hands, “It just didn’t feel right calling you any of those things people call you.” She looked up at him with a furrowed brow, his surprisingly soft gaze banishing her fear once again, “You just don’t seem that scary…” She leaned back in her seat and brought a potato chip to her opening mouth. He watched her eat the chip and felt a small smile creep at the edges of his mouth behind the mask. She really wasn’t afraid of him?

Y/n watched as he began to slowly nod. She cocked a brow at him and wringed her hands together, “Yes? Yes your name is Micheal?” His name fell past her lips once more, but this time in a low whisper in fear of upsetting him in any way. He simply nodded again. “So… Can I call you that? Michael?” He nodded once sternly and Y/n felt her lungs release the breath she didn’t even realize she was holding. He looked back to the food on his plate and inhaled deeply. God, did he want to eat; but there was no way he was removing his mask. Not for anything.

Y/n continued to eat in a sort of silence, Micheal’s beathing and the chirping of birds outside the only soundtrack to her meal. Michael watched her as she dipped the sandwich into the mug of soup and raced against the clock to get the soggy bread to her mouth before the soup dripped all over. She calmly finished her food and sat back in her seat, wiping her mouth on a napkin. This was going to be a meal to remember, that was for sure. She watched as his eyes wandered all over the walls of her home, taking in the color of the paint, to the scratches in the wood floors.

“Can I ask you something?”

Her voice brought his attention back to her form and he shifted in his seat. She was playing with the crumbs on the table as she posed the question to the charged air. She glanced up enough to see him nod yet again, and then lower his head to try and meet her gaze. She looked back up and rubbed a hand down the side of her face, her mind still trying to process the fact that he was right in front of her. “Why haven’t…” She cut herself off in an instant. Her brow knitted together as she weighed the optimons in her mind of how this question could go. Michael looked at her with half lidded eyes, his mind reeling as to what she was going to ask next. She locked eyes with him one last time and gave a small smile, “It’s no secret what you’ve done. Everyone here knows who you are. The people you’ve…” She trailed off and gave a small dry chuckle, “Why is this happening? You could’ve… well… you could have very easily killed me by now. But instead you’re sitting here at my table, after months of watching me, silent and still. There are a million scenarios that have played in my head if I ever came face to face with you, and sharing a quiet lunch with you was definitely not one of them…” She shrugged her shoulders and laughed again. Michael could sense a million different emotions swarming around the girl at that exact moment, but still, fear wasn’t one of them. They sat there for a while, Michaels silence answering her question enough fir her to grasp that he was not in fact going to harm her. She felt a sense of clam wash over her as she just sat with him.

Oddly enough, she felt safe.

The doorbell rang out through the house as both people at the table snapped their heads to the door. Y/n shot up as Michael knocked out the chair from under him, flying to his feet. She threw her hands up and shushed him loudly. “Don’t move. I’ll make sure they leave without seeing you. I’ve got this.” She was breathless as she began her walk to the door, Micheal watched her frame move down the hall and he felt the sudden urge to pounce on her and hide them both away from the stranger at the door.

“Hey there! I’m just stopping by to drop off that casserole dish your mom had lent me!” The older woman at the door beamed at Y/n as she opened the door. The girl smiled in response and engaged in a short conversation with her mother friend. Minutes passed by before Y/n said goodbye and turned back to the kitchen. When she arrived the room was empty.

The back door was closed, and Michael was gone.

Y/n huffed as she sat down in the chair that once held Michael, the wooden frame still somewhat warm. She found herself beginning to smile thinking about the encounter she just had. That’s when she noticed the plate in front of her was empty. Michael was gone, and so was his sandwich. Y/n ran her hands down her face and began to laugh. It started off small but grew into a full chest shaking laugh as she leaned forward on the table and let all the tension in her bones melt away.

Somewhere, she thought to herself, the Haddonfield Boogeyman is walking around with my grilled cheese in his hand.

The thought was enough to send her into a new fit of laughter.

Maybe this wasn't going to be so bad after all……

#michael myers #slasher #slasher fandom #halloween #myers #michael myers imagine #michael myers x reader #horror #horror imagine #slasher imagine #horror x reader #slasher x reader #michael myers x you #halloween 1978 #michael audrey myers #halloween 1978 imagine

251 notes · View notes

wannawritefast · 4 years ago

Text

Whiplash (Prologue)

A/N: Hey, guys! Long time no see! This is a fluffy little, slow burn, friends-to-lovers, fake dating Christmas fic I’ve been working on. Basically if it gets enough attention I’ll write and post the rest.

Fandom: Bo Rhap

Pairing: Gwylim! Brian x Reader

You threw your pencil at your friend and he dodged it while falling to the floor in a fit of laughter, curls bobbing as he went down.

“It’s a fortnight before final exams, Bri!” You were torn between whether you yourself were going to laugh or cry. Your emotions hadn’t decided yet. “And I’ve hardly made any progress on my thesis!” Brian howled in laughter as he continued rolling in the doorway of your dorm. You crossed your arms over your chest and pursed your lips. “Forgive me if I forgot that two plus one is three.”

Brian got his bearings. “I was going to ask you how you were doing but I think that was answer enough.” He stood to his feet and dusted himself off before offering his hand to you. “Come on.”

“What?” You glanced between his outstretched palm and amused face.

“We’re leaving, come on.” Brian walked over and grabbed your hand. He began to pull you out of your chair.

You locked your legs, slamming the brakes on what was happening. “What do you mean ‘we’re leaving’?”

“I mean ‘we’re leaving and I’m taking you off campus to get food because I’m willing to bet that you can’t tell me the last time you ate a proper meal or at least left this cave of a room.”

You gaped, speechless. You honestly couldn't recall. Brian started pulling you along again. “Brian, Brian. Wait!”

He halted again. “What?”

“I can’t leave right now! I have too much to do.” Leaving right now was not a logical use of your time. You had better things to do, like studying, rather than going out for dinner. “I have so many notes to go over and I haven’t finished grading my section’s tests for Professor-”

“I’ll help you grade the tests,” he answered calmly. “Remember, I TA for the sections that you don’t. I’ve finished mine. I can help you with yours.” Brian pulled you away from your desk for a third time.

“I shouldn’t leave. I… I’ll eat when I finish this set of notes.” Your hands still interlocked, you began pulling him back to your desk.

“You’ll feel better after you eat.” Brian walked you toward the door once more. “You won’t be productive if you don’t take a break. You’ll fry your brains.”

You took a deep breath. He was right, you supposed. You relaxed your strained stance and rolled back your shoulders exhaustedly. “Let me grab my shoes.”

[{...}]

Brian took you to a small diner a few miles off campus where you were subsequently seated at a small booth. You looked a mess, of that you were quite certain. But neither you, Brian, nor the wait staff cared.

The moment your plate with a burger, chips, and a pickle slice was placed in front of you, your hunger hit you at full force. For a few minutes, both you and Brian yammed in contented silence.

“Brian,” you spoke through a mouthful of chips. He nodded in acknowledgment. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” he replied.

As if on cue, the server set down two milkshakes in front of the both of you. You dropped the chip from your fingers and looked at Brian. You felt yourself tear up.

“Are you alright?” He asked with concern as you stared down the glass of cold deliciousness.

“Are you for real, Brian,” you asked, meeting his hazel eyes with your own. You were genuinely touched by the gesture. “My god,” you laughed, “I mean, will you marry me?”

Brian rubbed the back of his neck with a cheeky smile and sighed. “I don’t know. I have a long line of suitors.”

“You took me to get food,” you bargained playfully. “I must be pretty bloody high up, ranking-wise.” You pulled the milkshake toward you and took a drink of the delectable dessert.

“At the very top.”

The two of you ate the rest of your dinner talking and joking about the effects of maths on the human psyche. Immediately after dinner, you and Brian walked around the city. A chance to stretch your legs a bit before returning to your work, he had said.

The city at night with the faintest lights of the stars right behind the skyline was a sight to behold. The people around you bustled and cars honked blissfully ignoring the universe just outside of their own little worlds.

“Our universe is strange, isn’t it,” you said out of the blue. Brian cocked his head at you with his hands shoved in his pockets. “I mean here we are, living, breathing accumulations of stardust and elements of the cosmos, and yet each and every one of us humans is so different. I mean person to person, life is never the same and we find ways to relate to each other and find our way to those who know us best.”

Brian chuckled to himself and playfully nudged you. “This isn’t your way of telling me you’re switching to a Literature major, is it? Because that would be utter bollocks.” You threw your head back and laughed. “I’m serious! There’s very few astrophysics majors I can actually talk to. Poor blokes have terrible social skills. I can’t TA on my own either… That would be a nightmare.”

“No, Brian,” you corrected with a lingering giggle, “this is my way of saying that I’m really thankful that the universe made us friends. I’ll have you know, I reckon you’re my best friend actually.” Something about the day was making you feel particularly sentimental.

People didn’t usually take kindly to finding out you were a woman in a science field. Even as a little girl the other girls at school didn’t allow you to play with them and the boys were less than impressed by the fact that you were interested in the same things that they were when they had gone previously unchallenged. High school wasn’t much better.

Not even your family was thrilled by your academic achievements and career choices. You constantly battled them on your choice to pursue your love of space science. You had to fight to be where you were at the university against bigoted professors and even more bigoted classmates.

Brian treated you like you were a classmate of his, female or not. And he had, on more than one occasion, defended your right to be in the astrophysics program. Needless to say, not only was Brian a breath of fresh air but he was your lifeline.

“Well, that’s unfortunate,” Brian replied.

“Oh…” You breathed. Your heart panged painfully. That wasn’t exactly what you had expected.

“Because you’re stuck with this curly-haired bloke forever now,” he teased. You laughed in response. That’s all he ever seemed to make you do. “Seriously… is that your final answer?”

“Brian!” You scolded teasingly.

“I’m serious,” he laughed out. “I am really just a blundering idiot behind this modelesque facade.”

“It must be so hard for you,” you said, rolling your eyes.

“Hey, nobody said beauty was easy, Y/n.”

#brian may x reader #gwilym!brian #gwilym!brian x reader #gwilym lee!brian may #borhap fanfic #brian may x you #Brian May #bohemian rhapsody fanfic #roger taylor #friends to lovers #slow burn #fluff #fake dating!au #happy holidays

26 notes · View notes

wehavethoughts · 5 years ago

Text

Eco-Chic Home Review!

Eco-Chic Home: Rethink, Reuse & Remake Your Way to Sustainable Style By Emily Anderson Photography by Seth & Kendra Smoot Skipstone, 2010

Eco-Chic Home bridges interior decorating with contemporary sustainable living movements, and contextualizes lifestyle and style choices in the broader history of over-consumption. Anderson offers plenty of DIY projects to reuse objects that we traditionally think of as waste, urging readers to reimagine their relationship with material objects. The book falls shy of a perfect score, as some projects are difficult to understand, and that the decoration suggestions don’t quite respond directly to the environmentalist facts presented throughout.

5 of 6 plump geese!

Eco-Chic Home is a book on decorating, not designing. The distinction is made regarding function. An interior designer needs specific education and often collaborates with an architect to plan how a space works, feels and looks. Decorators furnish a space with pretty things but work within its pre-existing functionality. This doesn’t at all mean that decorating is shallow or mindless. Anderson emphasizes three key points in her messaging: rethink, reduce, and re-purpose.

Anderson’s book has readers rethink how they engage with objects. While the majority of the book is filled with detailed DIY project instructions, the Introduction serves to guide sincere reflection on personal practices as they relate to the world at large. She gives a brief expositional history, describing 1950’s post-War developments of plastics as a catalyst for modern America’s wasteful tendencies. In short, though cheaper options allowed for more people to have more things, it altered the collective psyche into neglecting how much waste those flimsier products produce. While this isn’t a comprehensive history book and those unfamiliar with this history have to take Anderson’s word for it, I really appreciate this context in an interior design book. (Citations for recycling information and environmental facts are referenced at the back of the book, but the historical survey is presented as general historical knowledge.) Her design offerings are not based on aesthetic whims, but are rooted in the understanding that our well-being is connected to the well-being of our planet.

A huge part of Anderson’s message requires us to reduce what we consume. From textiles to food packaging, production leads to waste production. There is no “away” when we throw something away, so by consuming less, we contribute less to that waste. This can be owning fewer items, for example shirts or toys. It can look like bringing our own shopping bags to the store and reusable water bottles out in our day. Perhaps we select items made from more durable materials so they last us longer. Anderson informs us about different materials in her Introduction, as well as strongly suggests that we buy second-hand. When we buy something already used and that doesn’t require new production, we increase the life of that object, avoid participating in using resources to produce new things, and at least half the number of that item being tossed when it’s worn out.

“Even if you never buy a single eco-friendly product in your life, buying less stuff in general means you are making one of the greenest choices possible.”

The majority of Eco-Chic Home focuses on how to re-purpose what we already have. After listing useful tools to have (if possible), Anderson divides her DIY projects into chapters: Entryway, Living Room, Kitchen, Dining Room, Bedroom, Lighting and Holidays & Gift Giving. Every project has a list of tools and sequenced instructions, like a recipe, although not all the projects have pictures. I found that, at times, it was hard for me to understand what I would be doing without seeing the finished product. The ideas incorporated the ideas from the beginning of the book: re-imagine how to use less and use better. Projects ranged from turning old sweaters into pillow covers, building room dividers from found materials, to even making your own paint! (I was personally skeptical about the paint, which comprises skim milk, lime powder, and white vinegar...apparently it’s a thing that doesn’t go sour, but I would still worry about mold, no?) Homemade milk paint would produce a white creamy color, and you could add lime-proof pigments for color. Lots of options all around.

For the most part, the projects are unique to this book, Anderson really designed a curated selection of remaking projects. The photographed examples all share a styled vibe: kind of an earthy flea-market style, “eco-chic” I guess! Fortunately, she doesn’t make overbearing mandates on which prints to pick, focusing instead on any materials being sustainable or ethically-made or locally-sourced. The book concludes with a plethora of resources: information about the tangible need for a more sustainable society, credits to makers featured in photographs, options of websites or flea markets to start your individual search. As someone who is invested in making more sustainable lifestyle choices, this book was reassuring: other people want this for their homes and lives too.

Eco-Chic Home falls short of 6 luscious geese for a few reasons. Anderson stretches to combine lifestyle with decor, and sustainability with design. Including facts about production and waste on a large scale ultimately is disconnected with a book that rethinks individual life. These serious problems would be much better addressed by companies and countries whose damaging impacts on the planet are far greater than any one person. The book falls into the trap of suggesting that “you can make a difference with small adjustments” without insisting that more powerful entities take responsibility and commit to less-harmful practices. Of course, it’s true that anything helps, and I like that Anderson stresses that money and time are valuable, and that these projects shouldn’t deplete you of either. My realistically doable actions will have a positive ripple-effect: “oh, did you make that?” or “this is delicious, you said it’s from a family-owned store around here?” But we need to go beyond sharing scary realities to motivate individuals to change their habits.

Ultimately, Eco-Chic Home is a great contribution to interior decorating because it grounds style with a sustainability mindset. I award it 5 of 6 beautiful, plump geese, and recommend it to readers who are excited to experiment with realizing their commitment to greener living.

With loving curiosity,

DesignMod

42 notes · View notes

sukirichi · 4 years ago

Note

read the new chapters and aAAACKKKKK BESTIE???

y/n - ‘I was born to make everyone’s life a living hell’ maam this LINE?! JAW DROPPED, TIME STOPPED being insecure all her life and wanting to live up to the expectations to her dad just to have that sliver of attention from him, that sentence gives us a glimpse on how little she felt despite being accomplished, rather successful actually because she always cleans her boss’ mess have a lot of baggage to unpack. and when the secret was confirmed, her anger rejects all of the entity that ties with her past because both her parents deprived her for the things she was supposed to have– becoming greedy to fulfill those. then eventually, somehow, going back to her roots aka being humble after having the talk with her dad. As most of her insecurity started because of him and how she had to be the bigger person for his other family, clearing out the misunderstanding between them brought a sense of peace while she’s settling in the restless turn of events.

and with our main man gojo, this guy, it is not wise to- 😤😤 how can you say you’re engaged after doing the body tango huh? esp when you said you want y/n to be your wife? oh gee and the revelation of his past relationship with mia and how he sees her in y/n is so fucked up. can’t help but think that satoru wanting to marry and be this lovey-dovey with y/n is just him reliving the moments that mia never gave him in the past. and y/n accepting that their current relationship is based on how they’re filling up the cracks in their needs and settling for the sake of familiarity. imagine how deep in love our girl is to keep satoru in her life 💔 im still in it for the second lead agenda

needless to say, everyone here needs a therapy so they can get their shit straight together 🤧🤧 (ノ•̀ o •́ )ノ ~ ┻━┻

BUT i know you mentioned this many times but laywer! naoya all poised and in his best behavior while helping y/n in her new situation has my heart go💕💕 winning lots of cases and is known in his field, he proved that he is both beauty and brains. and the pen spin??? man be pulling those fast spins either to distract or impress the person he is talking to flashing those perfect white pearls wtf now i can’t get that out of my head naoya brain rot 🥵🥵 also celebrity chef! sukuna in charge of all those delicious, exquisite cuisines? imma make myself broke just to taste his masterpiece🥲 ooh but how about him being a michelin star chef and owning a michelin-starred resto?! no doubt, left and right you see this man appearing on some high food magazine on the cover 😊😊 oh oh i also saw that supermodel! choso?? also his face is plastered on magazines AND luxurious advertisements ex. shibuya crossing! where most people be drenched in his glorious presence yea weird shibuya arc ref pls kill me and everyone talks how handsome and intimidating he is while he just have a rbf and only the closest people in his life get to see him drop that front 😌😌

with that in mind, imagine supermodel! choso being a godfather to the baby of y/n?? he would go soft immediately at the sight of the child and would probably love giving lots of branded clothes it will be good enough for more than a year ☺️🥲😭

oh and there is this one scene in chp7 that reminded me of the recent korean movie i watched i dont wanna say it in case you wanna check it out its called sweet and sour and oh god idk why but watching it, mind keeps on prompting your fics 😬😬 maybe bcos i some of your fic always had med related topics and the main actress role there is a nurse. i remember that you’re on your clinic training so maybe thats why 😳oohh pls don’t forget to take breaks and be safe heart and oh ur a psych major too? oh wow hi ig in relation to one actress in the sweet and sour fic, she was also in a kdrama the heirs- which was popular at the time with it being packed with some solid household actors and actresses. sky castle tho, ig it relates to the theme of reckless more because its mostly how parents from the upper class will mindlessly destroy someone’s life to attain their materialistic desires 🤧🙂

this fic, easily in my top 3 ‘heart belongs to who it dictates’ so many twists, so much drama and ANGST! YES BESTIE GIMME THOSE ANGST 🥲😌

i hope you’re doing well nowadays :’)) we need to find gege the best chiropractor to take care of his back, so good that it’ll make naoya respawn to life 🙂 suki i don’t think i’ll get tired of saying how much i love your work that it feels illegal im reading it for free 💔. i don’t really have much to offer, but im wishing you good health and success in your life :’)) aah i’ve mentioned this already but take care always 💕💖😊🥰

- 🍳

read the new chapters and aAAACKKKKK BESTIE???

needless to say, everyone here needs a therapy so they can get their shit straight together 🤧🤧 (ノ•̀ o •́ )ノ ~ ┻━┻

this fic, easily in my top 3 ‘heart belongs to who it dictates’ so many twists, so much drama and ANGST! YES BESTIE GIMME THOSE ANGST 🥲😌

- 🍳

y/n becomes a real baddie when she’s pissed off 😫

hmm y/n wasn’t really working hard for her dad’s attention, it was more like she felt so left out and unwanted (she feels unwanted wherever she goes) that she just decided to pack up and support them from afar bcos to her, she’s so alienated in her dad’s family that she felt like she had to work hard to earn a spot in their table. she knows she’s the outsider but she wants to feel like she can be part of them, that she is also a child deserving of love and care, but becos her stepmom focused more on her actual kids and her own dad was too busy with his new family now, it made y/n feel that she had to do something to be worthy of that.

that’s why most of the money she made working in tokyo was still wired to her family; she put her brothers in school and supported them, all because she hoped it would make them accept her more. now, things are different because she finally found her biological family, but even if valeria and co. still don’t want her, y/n is now more focusing on building something that’s truly hers that no one can take away. yes yes, she did become greedy, but more for power than of acceptance. she got to a point she doesn’t care as much vying for her parents’ approval and now thinks her luxury gives her comfort; only because at least she has that much. like she said in the latest chapter, happiness was not what she needed, it was stability and money - all things she lacked before.

and yea she did go back to her roots! all of her issues started with her dad anyway but that part is slowly patching up 🩹💔 oooh actually your theory is right bestie 🧐 gojo found y/n interesting bcos she reminded him of mia, so the more she pushed him away, the more he’s like wait, i’ve been here before, let’s not repeat past mistakes but i can do better now. on the part where gojo talked to mia while she was asleep, notice how he said he’s given a second chance to do better now, all because he couldn’t do them with mia but he could with y/n.

ohhh actually y/n was the one who established that ‘fulfilling mutual need and settling for familiarity instead of being lonely’ type of relationship. gojo avoided her for weeks and he’s pretty settled in keeping his distance, but she was the one who sought him out. deep down, y/n is afraid if she doesn’t at least use him as an anchor to her more humble roots, then she might spiral out of control and end up like valeria, thus using him as a ‘distraction’ but in reality, she needs his comfort to be grounded.

SECOND LEAD AGENDA OMG LETS GOOO 🏃🏻‍♀️🏃🏻‍♀️🏃🏻‍♀️ geto the fine fine option.

NO BESTIE MOMENT U MENTIONED LAWYER NAOYA I JUST KNEW I WAS GONNA SCREAM. okay but lawyer! naoya is so fine, i love his character so much bcos he’s a pure bean. originally, i was gonna make him an antagonist but i found he had more potential as a good, supportive character. HIS PEN SPIN HELPPP WHY COULDN’T HE JUST BEEN OUR BABY DADDY 😫 he pulls them fast spins bcos he’s nervous btw HAHAHAHA y/n can be quite intimidating and lawyer! naoya is sometimes too precious.

celebrity chef! sukuna is MEAN! he was pictured after gordon ramsay so lmao. omgggg sukuna being famous not only for his food but also his handsomeness 😳 he gets so cocky over how no one can get in his level while popping a battle of champagne, listening to ‘careless whisper’ while dancing to his reflection in the mirror 😤

also yoo supermodel! choso is THE hot shit 🥵 he’s so famous his schedule is packed for an entire year and a half and those are just for very selected brands and designers! ugh imagine going to work on the subway when you see supermodel! choso with rbf posing sexily and you swoon because he’s so sexy. plot twist that choso doesn’t know how to drive bcos as a kamo family member, they grew up with drivers taking them to and fro, so when his driver got sick and everyone else was busy, supermodel choso takes the subway himself and hides behind a face mask and cap while still wearing extravagant clothes that makes him stand out more. he does not have ‘subtle’ on his book at all.

and yeah people say he’s intimidating but its more his height and build + rbf! in reality, he’s just as soft and sweet as naoya, but both of them go into protective mode when someone they care about is being crapped on. and boy when they DO get into “what did you just say?” mode, better run away 🏃🏻‍♀️ supermodel! choso is also an heir to the kamo empire though not after the business, but he still has enough power to take you down in a second.

meanwhile, lawyer! naoya didn’t become this successful without being so savage yet composed he makes you question your entire existence before he drags you to court. lawyer! naoya is so scarily convincing that he can make you plead guilty even tho you did nothing wrong 💀

aaaah omg supermodel! choso LOVES babies actually! as the eldest child who looked after his brothers bcos the kamo parents are always away for work, being a father figure is so natural to him. i can picture him being the one who cries harder than gojo if the baby is born bcos he’s so excited, then reads poems to the baby before sighing that childbirth is such a beautiful thing 🥺

omg i know sweet n sour, the actresses are one of my faves tho i haven’t watched it yet! oooh they’re a nurse? i didn’t know that 🧐 i actually finish my short training in a week so i’ll be heading on to heavy majoring in psychology! wait bestie are YOU also a psych major 😳💕 oh and i see i see, sky castle *jots that down for future references* reckless actually has lots of significance in terms of the parents’ roles so i’m excited to see that! and aww thank you so much, can’t believe i made it in someone’s top three 🥺💕

HELP AHSKWKW i’m gonna call the best chiropractor in the world and send them gege’s way, i’ll cry a river if that’s what it takes to bring my boo back to life 😭 and noo baby the support already means a lot to me, i’m just happy to indulge in my hobbies and share it wih you all so thank you very much for everything 🥺 please take care of yourself too n have a nice day!! kith MWAH 💕

#asks with naoya's trophy wife #series: reckless #jjk: manga spoilers #anon:🍳

5 notes · View notes

maatryoshkaa · 6 years ago

Text

young god | chapter 3

serial killer!han jisung au

chapters: | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11| 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | epilogue |

word count: 2.7k

warnings: mature language

description: hyunjin teases you about the blind date when you come in for work. meanwhile, your first therapy session with jisung leaves the both of you more than a little...jarred.

watch the trailer here!

You burst through the cafe’s glass doors like a madman, hair tossed about by the early morning breeze and your bag slipping off one shoulder. Glow Cafe was packed, as it usually was at 8 a.m. on a Monday -- students and professors queuing up at the register for their early morning pick-me-ups. Behind the counter, amidst the sea of turned heads, a tall, brown-haired boy cocked an eyebrow at you.

“Well, well, well -- look who decided to show up to work. How was your blind date?”

Hwang Hyunjin snickered at your reddening face, pushing up his glasses with flour-covered fingers. The barista wiped his hands on his apron before pulling out the first batch of croissants of the day out from the oven.

You shot him a death glare as you took your place next to him, throwing on your own uniform over your clothes. Still smirking at you, Hyunjin balanced a cappuccino and a croissant on a tray before sliding it towards a girl.

“He didn’t turn out to be a serial killer or something, I hope?”

“Not a serial killer, and not a wanted criminal.” You leaned back on the counter, still catching your breath. “Unless--” you gave a melodramatic gasp -- “you count the crime of stealing my heart.”

Hyunjin made a gagging noise as he took an order and slid it towards you. “No way. So you’re saying it was a success? Felix is never going to shut up about this.”

You read the slip. Iced Americano, extra shot of espresso. Easy. “I know. Honestly, though, ‘jin, he was so freaking adorable, his smile--”

Hyunjin’s hand immediately cranked up the cafe’s speakers, jazzhop music effectively drowning out the rest of your sentence, and you laughed.

Hwang Hyunjin was the second friend you’d made at Miroh Heights, the first being none other than your now-wingman, Felix. Besides being an architecture and design major, Hyunjin was also the owner of one of the hottest coffee shops on campus -- Glow Cafe. It was first opened by his grandmother decades ago, and had fallen into his hands once he’d gotten into Miroh Heights. Nowadays, his grandmother stayed in the studio apartment above the cafe while Hyunjin ran the business.

The cafe began emptying near 10 o’clock, most students and professors having shuffled off to morning classes. You wiped your hands on your apron, and Hyunjin handed a cup of coffee to the last customer. Suddenly, his face lit up and he began waving at someone behind you. Windchimes jingled as the door opened, and you turned just in time to see Yang Jeongin step into the cafe. He had propped up his rusty bike outside, and both his hands were full with crates as he waddled towards the counter.

“How’s it going, Jeongin?” Hyunjin handed him a glass of water. The delivery boy set down the packages -- two boxes of coffee beans -- and pulled his earbuds out, grinning.

“Pretty good -- I’m getting better at lifting, you know!” A soft Beatles track trickled out from his Walkman, and Jeongin pressed pause.

Hyunjin gave a low whistle. “Our Jeongin’s gaining some muscle, huh? Just wait ‘till your sophomore year, the girls are gonna eat you right up.”

You laughed as Jeongin’s ears turned red, Hyunjin continuing, “Just don’t end up head-over-heels like y/n is right now, you hear?”

Jeongin raised his eyebrows, turning to face you. “You’re seeing someone? Well, if y/n likes him, then I’m sure he’s a really good person.” Ignoring Hyunjin’s dramatic eye roll, you grinned and gave Jeongin finger guns, which he returned with a laugh.

After helping Hyunjin and you haul the shipments into the storage room, Jeongin pulled out a long list of deliveries from his jeans pocket. “Coffee beans, check. Ah!” He tossed a bundle of newspapers onto the counter. “Here’s the morning paper, too.”

Hyunjin peered at the list, clapping the younger boy on the back. “Damn, Jeongin -- I don’t know what the entire campus would do without you. You should invest in a driver’s license sometime, it’d make your job a lot easier.”

Jeongin laughed, folding up the list and hopping on his bike. “I can’t...I can’t pay for one yet. It’s alright, though,” he added quickly. “I like my bike just fine. Well, I’m gonna get going now, see you guys tomorrow!”

When Jeongin had gone, Hyunjin pulled up a chair and unfolded the newspaper. His smile froze on his face as he read, eyes suddenly widening in horror. You frowned. “What’s wrong?”

He held up the newspaper, waving you over.

MURDER AT MIROH HEIGHTS,

the headlines screamed. A photograph of a small flat, burnt nearly to the ground, stared back at you as you read the caption out loud.

“A sudden fire broke out on the outskirts of Miroh Heights at around 12:00 a.m. this morning. The remains of a young woman have been found amidst the cinders, but the body has not yet been identified. Witnesses report seeing a young man escaping the fire, leading police to suspect this was the work of an arsonist. If you have any information, please call the Miroh Police Department immediately.” You looked at Hyunjin, wide eyes mirroring yours. “Arsonist? Here?”

He shook his head, sighing. “That’s messed up. Hopefully they figure it out soon.”

You bit your lip. “I hope so, too.”

----------------

“You should all have picked someone to be your patients by now, yes? Be sure to schedule your first session with them within the next week, we will be discussing your findings next class.” Your professor gave a curt nod. “Class dismissed.”

You fumbled with your phone as you shuffled out of the lecture hall, fingers hovering over Jisung’s contact. Your heartbeat was already quickening as you skimmed over possible messages in your head. How was one supposed to break the ice after the first date? What if he had already forgotten about agreeing to the whole thing? Would you make it awkward?

You were still having a mini mental breakdown when your phone screen lit up, and a new message popped up.

💌 Jisung: good evening! i believe this is dr. l/n?

💌 Jisung: i was wondering if i could book my first appointment ;)

You stared back at your phone, smiling like an idiot, and barely resisted the urge to jump up and down like an elementary schoolgirl.

You: you certainly can. how does 7 at my place sound?

💌 Jisung: send me the address, and i’ll be there 😊

Clutching your phone to your chest and inwardly squealing, you ran back home, smile vanishing from your face the moment you opened your front door.

You had never thought your apartment was a mess until this moment. For the next hour you were flying from room to room collecting empty coffee cups, hiding strewn laundry, and washing dirty dishes. You hadn’t even had time to grab a bite to eat before the clock hit 7:00 P.M. and a light knock sounded on your apartment door, the doorbell making you yelp.

You straightened your shirt, ran a hand through your dishevelled hair, and with a shaky breath, you opened the door. Sure enough, Jisung grinned back at you. “Hey.”

He was wearing a grey hoodie and jeans, a black cap over his dark blond hair, and your favourite smile on his face.

“Hey yourself,” you replied, a little breathlessly, and cleared your throat. He had a white plastic bag in one hand, and held it up.

“Felix said your class ends at 6, so I thought you might be hungry,” he explained. “I didn’t know what you liked, but there’s this new Chinese place and honestly, it smells pretty good--”

He was right. You hadn’t eaten since noon, and the delicious scent that wafted from the bag made your mouth water. “I love you,” you blurted, eyes staring at the food, and slapped a hand over your mouth. Your gaze dropped to the ground, cheeks on fire. “Um! I--I--sorry.” Please tell me I didn’t just say that, please tell me I didn’t just--

Several mortifying seconds of gnawing on your lips and fidgeting furiously had gone by before you finally risked a peek at Jisung’s face. He was watching you squirm with amused eyes, his expression of equal shock slowly melting into...the biggest, smuggest smirk you had ever seen.

“This is going a bit faster than I thought it would, but I can’t say I’m complaining,” Jisung tilted his head at you, leaning on the doorframe.

Not able to hold his gaze, you squeaked, “just--just come in,” and practically bolted to your living room, praying to every deity you knew for a hole to swallow you up.

Behind you, Jisung chuckled, shaking his head and following you in. You were adorable.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” You asked, after you’d regained composure and he’d set the food on the coffee table. “You can still say no if you want.”

Jisung frowned, snapping a pair of chopsticks and stabbing a piece of sweet and sour chicken. “Why would I do that? I’ve just captured your heart with Chinese takeout. I’m not about to blow this chance.” He winked, holding it up to your lips. “Ahh.”

Cheeks flaming, you ate it, and he beamed proudly. Swallowing hard, you pulled your notebook and a pen from your bag, shakily scrawling Psych Analysis Patient: Han Jisung at the top.

You ran a finger over the list of questions you’d written down in class, and settled for the first one. “Have you ever seen a therapist before?”

Jisung’s brow was furrowed in deep concentration as he spun noodles around his chopsticks. “A couple.”

You wrote that down. “What for? If you don’t mind me asking,” you added quickly.

Jisung shook his head. “It’s fine. It was when I was...younger. Mandatory psych evals in school, that sort of thing.”

You nodded, looking at the next question. “What’s on your mind right now?”

“On my mind?” Jisung repeated, chuckling. “The fact that I’m on a second date with a pretty girl?”

Burying your tomato-red face behind your notebook, you barely got the follow-up question out. “And how does that make you feel?” Gosh, you could feel his stare on you even through the paper.

“How do you make me feel, you mean?”

“S-sure.”

“Honestly?” You heard him pause, as if deliberating the words. “You make me a little...crazy.”

You stifled a laugh. “Elaborate?”

“Racing thoughts, rapid heartbeat, maybe a palpitation here or there…”

Jisung trailed off, and that was when you looked at him. His tone had been teasing, flirty, but the look on his face was completely blank, eyes dark and wide. You gulped, scribbling down some notes before moving onto another question.

“Has anything been...bothering you recently?”

At this, Jisung set down his chopsticks and slid closer to you on the couch. Your heartbeat quickened inevitably when he did so, but you held his gaze -- those same intense, black eyes that had sent chills down your spine at the diner.

“Yes, actually.”

“Do you...do you want to talk about it?”

For the first time, it was Jisung who broke eye contact. “Nothing...much, really. A little trouble sleeping. Bad dreams. A lot of things on...on my mind.” He smiled. “Finals season, you know?”

You nodded, tapping the pen against your bottom lip. “And on a scale of 1-10, how would you rate your mood at the moment?”

Jisung hummed before grinning cheekily. “A 10.”

Raising an eyebrow, you asked, “A 10? Why?”

“Because I’m with you,” Jisung replied simply. “I don’t know why, but you make me feel...happy.”

His words should have made you roll your eyes, they should have felt cheesy beyond belief -- but no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t find a drop of insincerity in his voice. And that, you were beginning to realize helplessly, was what made you want to fall head over heels with Han Jisung.

“What would reduce your mood to a 9?”

Jisung looked thoughtful. “If you, say, took back the “I love you” from earlier?”

You smacked him lightly, the mischievous grin on his face making your heart do somersaults. Just like that, the atmosphere had turned playful again. “What would make you an 11, then?”

“Maybe...let me...feed you?”

You gave a long exhale, closing your notebook. “I hope you have a defibrillator or something, Han Jisung.”

His face lit up into a comical expression of joy as he reached for the takeout box, blowing lightly on bites of noodles and chicken before holding them up to your mouth expectantly.

As Jisung watched you eat, a flustered smile on your face, he felt one tug at his own lips. It made his heart skip in panic. There were only a few times when he smiled without thinking. Two, actually, now that he thought about it.

One, right after killing. When the voices finally shut up.

And two, every single moment he was around you.

He found himself lost in the sound of your laughter: pure music that seemed to clear his head and make him focus on only your voice; he was mesmerized by your smile: bright as the flash of a camera and always catching him off guard.

It terrified him how much he wanted to keep being the one to make you smile, blush, happy. He wanted to hear you talk about anything and everything. He wanted to tell you about his nightmares. He wanted to bring you to visit his mother’s grave.

The evening flew by, the two of you talking and watching the sunset through the living room window. Before you knew it, pinpricks of stars were appearing, a gibbous moon hanging in the velvet night sky. Like magnets, you and Jisung had gravitated closer with each passing hour, his arm ending up around your shoulders as you rested your head on his soft hoodie. You felt closer, too -- the polite back-and-forth of generic questions had gradually ceased, giving way to more natural, comfortable conversation.

Finally, you caught yourself beginning to fall asleep in Jisung’s arms and jolted awake. “Oh, my gosh, look at the time. Are you okay getting home this late? I don’t think the campus buses run at this hour…”

Jisung opened his half-lidded eyes to see your worried face, bathed in moonlight, and felt as if all the air had been knocked out of his chest. Your features looked so soft, one side of your cheek rosy from where you’d laid it on his shoulder.

His peripheral vision was staining with red.

“...or you could stay the night? Oh gosh, don’t take that the wrong way, it’s just we’re already half asleep and…”

Flashes of her face seemed to replace yours like jagged puzzle pieces, her voice seeping into your words. And all Jisung could feel was the warmth consuming him from the inside out, like a spark had just gone off inside his rib cage and was beginning to burn.

“I’ll go,” he blurted, cutting you off. “I have to--I--I’m gonna go.”

You were studying his face, brow furrowed. Your gentle fingers felt like fire on his skin. “Are you okay? You look...feverish.”

“I’m fine.” He forced himself to stand, gathering the takeout boxes into the white plastic bag. “I’ll throw these on my way out. Sorry for staying so long--”

You reached out and pulled him into a hug. He smelled vaguely of smoke, the sudden sharp smell poking your nose. Not able to look him in the eyes, you buried your head into his chest, your mumble muffled by his hoodie. “You’re welcome here as long as you want. Are you sure you’re okay?”

Jisung was silent for several long moments before you felt his hand smooth through your hair, gingerly patting your head. “I’m fine,” he repeated, “don’t worry.”

His dark eyes were unreadable as both his hands moved to cup your face. He leaned in, pressing the softest of kisses to your forehead. Jisung’s lips barely grazed your skin, and yet you felt electricity shoot down your body, blood rushing to your cheeks and leaving you stammering.

“Sweet dreams,” he murmured against your temple and, as if snapping out of a trance, pulled away, disappearing into the darkness behind your apartment door as it closed shut.

#han jisung #stray kids #han jisung imagines #stray kids imagines #stray kids angst #han jisung angst #stray kids yandere #han jisung yandere #serial killer!AU #stray kids fic #stray kids series #hwang hyunjin #yang jeongin #lee felix

1K notes · View notes

fayewonglibrary · 4 years ago

Text

A Cantopop Dream Girl’s First Film Reverie (2019)

By Oliver Wang

If you weren’t a devotee of the Cantopop world in the early 1990s, the casting of Faye Wong in Wong Kar-wai’s Chungking Express (1994) may not have caught your attention. Starring in her first major role, the singer looked much the fresh ingenue, cropped coif, tinted sunglasses, and all. Her character—also named Faye—was played with such a frenetic, awkward energy that she may well have been the blueprint for the “manic pixie dream girl” trope.

In Asia, though, Wong had already become one of the region’s biggest pop stars by 1994, and the movie premiered a month after Wong had released Random Thoughts, her eighth album in six years. To put her casting in contemporary terms: imagine a promising but still unproven art-house filmmaker convincing Ariana Grande to star in a low-budget indie film that happened to come out weeks after the release of her chart-topping Thank U, Next. For Wong Kar-wai (WKW), Chungking Express was a breakout international hit, but for Faye Wong, it was one highlight in an already meteoric career.

Landing a genuine pop star was a kind of capstone for a director whose previous films had already shown a deep love for the power of pop songs. A key scene in WKW’s debut film, As Tears Go By (1988), is built around a jukebox playing Sandy Lam’s Cantonese cover of Berlin’s “Take My Breath Away.” The mysterious, mesmerizing title scene in Days of Being Wild (1990), set amid jungle foliage, makes use of the minor 1964 instrumental hit “Always in My Heart,” by the Brazilian guitar duo Los Indios Tabajaras. One wonders if, in an alternate timeline, WKW would have made a great, taste-making DJ.

Chungking Express is WKW’s greatest “jukebox” film for many reasons, including its casting of Faye Wong and its prominent placement of pop tracks, plus the fact that the director uses not one but two different jukeboxes in pivotal scenes. The actual number of songs isn’t as extensive as in Scorsese or Tarantino films of the same era, but the four tunes used most strategically in Chungking Express are each repeated at least twice. In the film’s first half (which features a young Takeshi Kaneshiro alongside the legendary Brigitte Lin in her final film role), Dennis Brown’s somber 1973 reggae single “Things in Life” plays four times. In the second half, which focuses on the unconventional relationship between Faye Wong’s Faye and Tony Leung’s Cop 663, we hear Dinah Washington’s 1959 version of “What a Diff’rence a Day Makes” twice and the Mamas and the Papas’ iconic 1966 single “California Dreamin’” a staggering nine times.

Most of these uses are diegetic, played on jukeboxes, CD players, or stereos. As we, the audience, listen to the music, we’re also watching people on-screen listening to music. Because of this, the songs in Chungking Express don’t just enhance ambiance, they also craft character, and these two streams flow together sublimely with “Dream Lover,” the Cantopop cover of an alternative rock hit by the Cranberries from 1992, performed by none other than Faye Wong.

Born Wang Fei in mainland China, Wong moved with her family from Beijing to Hong Kong in the eighties to pursue a performing career. Her first record label, trying to avoid associations with the mainland, gave her the generic, Anglicized stage name “Shirley Wong.” Her early albums sold, but after a few years, frustrated with her lack of creative control, she took a hiatus and relocated to New York City in 1991 as a gesture of escape and self-discovery. We can only assume she was also immersing herself in the trans-Atlantic pop scene of that time.

We don’t know if Wong heard the original “Dreams” in New York, but by the time she covered the song on Random Thoughts, the Cranberries’ song had become a signature hit twice over. It was the Irish band’s debut single from the fall of 1992, but they also rereleased it in the spring of 1994, after the massive success of their follow-up single, “Linger.” My friend, music writer Ned Raggett, described it as “a brisk, charging number combining low-key tension and full-on rock,” which is to say it’s a song filled with a sense of taut control but also giddy release. It’s easy to imagine how Wong, seeking to reclaim her artistic autonomy, might have been drawn to it.

Upon returning to Hong Kong in 1992, Wong reclaimed her birth name by changing her stage name to Faye Wong, and she immediately began to score a string of best-selling albums, many featuring covers of alternative rock hits. “Dream Lover” isn’t the only example to appear on Random Thoughts; the album also includes a pair of Cocteau Twins’ covers.

Showcasing “Dream Lover” in Chungking Express so close to Random Thoughts’ release was surely a savvy marketing move, common in the Hong Kong entertainment industry. However, the use of the song—alongside Wong’s real-life stardom—also works beautifully with the narrative and logic of the movie. From the moment Faye is introduced at the start of the second half, she’s already living in a dream of sorts. When we first meet both her and Cop 663 (Tony Leung), she’s working at her cousin’s food stand and blasting “California Dreamin’” out of a kitchen stereo. It’s so loud that 663 has to awkwardly shout at Faye just to put in his order, but Faye seems unfazed by the volume. With each repeated playing of the song, we’re meant to hear it as a commentary on Faye’s dissatisfaction with the drudgery of work and her weariness of Hong Kong’s gloomy, wet climate. California—“safe and warm”—represents a fantasy to escape to, first in her imagination, later in reality.

“Dream Lover” obviously extends the same “dream” theme, but as it’s also performed by Wong the singer, in scenes featuring Faye the character, there’s a rich meta-text at play. In “Dreams,” the Cranberries’ Dolores O’Riordan sings of trying to grapple with her sense of fantasy and reality in the context of an existing relationship. Wong’s “Dream Lover” has different lyrics that seem to recast the song as one about a lover who may be real or may be imagined. That ambiguity echoes Faye’s infatuation with 663, which she goes out of her way to avoid making explicit. 663 may be the lover in her dreams but not one she is keen to pursue in reality. As if to stress this point, we first hear “Dream Lover” after Faye has stolen his apartment keys in order to sneak in to dust his shelves, swap labels on his pantry cans, even drug his water bottle so she can continue her clandestine cleaning while he’s passed out. (This probably seemed more quirky and charming in 1994. Today, it’d likely be cause for a restraining order and psych eval.) Faye wants to be in 663’s presence, but only indirectly. She has more of a relationship with his domicile than with him.

That first use of “Dream Lover” is played under a montage of an extended cleaning session, and cinematographer Christopher Doyle shoots Wong with a handheld camera, adding to the already off-balance feeling of the scene. My colleague Brian Hu has astutely noted in a video essay that this shooting style seems to deliberately mirror the aesthetics of Wong’s music videos of the time. Hu’s analysis posits both the movie and music videos were shot in such a way to present Wong/Faye as a “whimsical dreamer,” “a free spirit,” “inquisitive and mysterious.” Moreover, in real life, Wong left Hong Kong to “find herself” in the U.S., and that story would have been well-known to any Cantopop fan watching Chungking Express. Film Faye is so tightly interwoven with Faye Wong that one wonders, if Wong had been unavailable or uninterested in the role, would WKW have abandoned the character or storyline completely?

When I first sat in a Bay Area theater to watch Chungking Express in the mid-nineties, I knew absolutely none of Wong’s backstory, and yet I still found the song immensely affecting, especially when it returns a second time, forming a coup de grace moment during the film’s final scene.

To recap: the last chapter in Chungking Express occurs a year after Faye has decided that, rather than meet with 663 at the California Bar, she’s going to travel to the actual California instead to see if it lives up to her dream. Now a stewardess, Faye drops by her cousin’s food stand only to find 663 there, no longer a police officer but now the stand’s owner. Before, Faye was the one infatuated with “California Dreamin’,” but now it’s 663 playing the song, also loudly, on the kitchen stereo. He is surprised but clearly pleased to see her. She, however, is nervous about having her “dream lover” in front of her and begins to make excuses to leave. At this point, the will-they/won’t-they tension from earlier in the film returns, and as viewers invested in their potential pairing, we’re left anxious that this moment too will end without resolution.

But 663 then retrieves the letter Faye had left him the night she departed. It’s a hand-drawn boarding pass but rainwater has blurred out the destination, and Faye offers to write him a new one. When asked where he wants to go, 663 replies, “Wherever you want to take me,” and the last we see of the pair is Faye inking a new pass on a napkin while 663 stares with affectionate intensity. One final moment flashes back to the stereo, where “California Dreamin’” had been playing just before. This time, it’s “Dream Lover” that swells up and kicks in before the end credits flash on.

Ending with a song as robust as “Dream Lover” doesn’t just reinforce the movie’s unique, unpredictable energy, it also captures something of how we often experience dreams themselves: as intense but disjointed bursts of images and emotion that we wake from, momentarily disoriented yet filled with feeling. The exuberance of the song offers a form of musical catharsis for all the deliciously confusing tension that’s built up over the past hour. We don’t know for certain what will happen to Faye and 663 after this scene, but what the sound of “Dream Lover” offers in the moment is a rousing sense of possibility. The song’s sonic verve—with its “low-key tension” and energetic release—fuels hope that our lovers may not be so star-crossed after all, as they pursue their romantic dreams, wherever those may take them.

------------------------------------------------------------------

SOURCE: THE CRITERION COLLECTION

#2019

7 notes · View notes

sha-sha-sha-sha · 4 years ago

Text

Patriarchy, Ageing Ovaries and Lemon Tarts

Today I got somewhat closer to nailing makeup et al. Did it twice today with semi successful results.

Went to P’s house and got into a heated discussion about BUMMER, his mum is a successful gyneacologist who showed me all the sketching she’s been learning in lockdown. She’s so damn inspiring. She also told me it’s okay to freeze eggs. Woohoo. Then we all discussed patriarchy and the short fertility window for women. I do think that plays a MAJOR role in how patriarchy is structured. A was there too, he did not understand that I was co-relating a biological and social phenomenon. One of us was not hearing the other. I am tempted to say him, but we know that’s prolly not true. P became strangely silent in this after a point, I think he doesn’t feel comfortable discussing fertility with his mom. But she’s such a COOL woman. I like her almost as much as my mom. Though I’ve met her less than five times in my life. I cannot get over how sorted she is in life.

P’s grandpa was sitting making notes out of newspaper clippings, he clips ‘The Speaking Tree’, watching him scribble away in the lamplight with his winter cap and sweater made my heart melt. I am so drawn to old people and their ways, so many questions I want to ask them. How does it feel to lose your spouse? To watch your children age? Watch your grandchildren move away? What are things you never thought would change but they did change?

I also find my Dad to be one such character. So eccentric, so strangely loving, so easily misunderstood. My mother is a damn saint, and they both love each other deeply. The world (some of my mum’s family) seems to be unable to watch this unlikely pair blossom. Well, I am here to smoothen the kinks, am I not? I love having the option to be home and work from here indefinitely. I want to be here only for so long. So long.

The day ended with my lil-cus-P’s lemon and chocolate tarts. They were quite sweet but also delicious and she decorated them so well. K is growing up surrounded by many influences and not all of them are healthy. I am worried that she’s developing a stunted relationship with food. Although I do not want to label anything, but I don’t think out family’s obsession with fat and thin has had a good impact on her. How is a child to know how much fat is too fat and too thin? She’s a bright, creative, spunky twelve year old. Maybe she’s meant to be skinny, maybe she isn’t. I am afraid I am watching BUMMER get into her psyche. Only today I convinces lil-cus-P to get off YouTube and do something off the screen. That’s when she conceived the idea of the tarts. It is so tough, managing online and off-line lives of children who probably do not know better.

My day ended with a make-up date with A, I did a nice smokey eye. Maybe that’s not the look for me, but I did it well. She told me about smudging thr kajal, cleaning makeup brushes and brightening up my inner eye with some shimmer. She’s such a big part of my heart. I hate how much she’s troubled by the world sometimes, but that’s also what makes us click and work well together. We watched a short documentary on Netflix, Beauty Explained it was called. Short, feel good, did not actually learn anything.

Here are the makeup things I need before leaving for M’s wedding - Cream contour or brown lipstick that can be smudged and used instead - Pigmented blush - Eyeshadow palette (this has been ordered and will arrive early next week) - Matt eyeliner - Smudge-able kajal

2 notes · View notes

bryonysimcox · 5 years ago

Text

The internal battle of forced monotony: Week 13, Spain

The negative emotions associated with isolation have reared their ugly heads this week. Amid tales of homemade ramen, torrential rain and a new film we’re working on, this post also reflects on the less positive moods that lockdown has gifted us.

Life feels more surreal as each week passes. The end of our sixth week in lockdown also marks a quarter of a year since we set off from England in our freshly converted campervan. When I frame it like that, our overland adventure to date both stretches back into eternity and only feels like a couple of days ago. Little did we know that ‘life on the road’ would entail confinement indoors and restrictions on all kinds of activities, like going to a cafe, seeing friends, making videos and driving through Europe.

There’s certainly something deep within me that is inherently optimistic. Even though if I was realistic about it, I knew that the ‘State of Alarm’ here in Spain would likely extend beyond the date of 26th April (which had already been extended twice), I had sort of psyched myself up towards regaining some of our freedom on that date. So when one morning this week, I flicked my phone onto the website for EL Pais (a major Spanish newspaper) and Pedro Sánchez had announced he was set to ask congress for another extension until the 9th May, my heart sank.

If there’s one thing I’ve wanted this weekly blog to be, it’s authentic. I’ve wanted to use it as a record of where I’ve been - not only geographically, but emotionally, and that means reflecting on the lows as well as the highs.

It’s hard putting into words the feeling of being so helpless in your own life - the feeling I’m experiencing now in lockdown. I guess one way that this helplessness has taken effect is in my increased empathy and consideration for people who live much larger parts of their lives facing uncertainty and helplessness - whether that be living under an unstable dictatorship, drought and famine, civil war or poverty. It’s not that I’ve only just started caring about these people, but in experiencing a fraction of the emotions that they must be going through, my sympathy deepens into something much more.

I’m so used to being in control. I trust that I will wake up tomorrow and night will turn to day; that I will put my keys in the ignition and the van will start; that I will be safe from persecution and oppression and that I will be able to access food and water. Even the element of my life which is the most uncertain as we undertake this overland adventure, which is money, is usually tempered by the knowledge that George and I have the skills and resources to find work, even if it has to be something we don’t particularly like. And yet now, life has thrown us a curveball. Coronavirus has left us spinning out of control.

Not feeling in control of my life has sapped my motivation. I still manage to get out of bed, and get various things done for our film channel Broaden or just general life admin, and I still eat well and exercise where possible. But things have lost their shiny glow, and I lose the energy to focus on a task for long.

It’s not like every waking moment I’ve spent has been devoid of positive energy. Back at the start of the week we ventured out to the supermarket on foot which was a welcome change of scene, I sat out in the sun and bleached my hair with lemon juice, and George learnt to eat crisps in a handstand. We laugh, we have fun and we create little activities like this to pass the time. But somehow, even investing in positivity like this can be tiring. You spend one day trying really hard to be grateful for what you’ve got in this time of crisis, and focus on celebrating the silver linings of copious free time, only to wake up the next day with your energy reserves run dry. Is anyone feeling this too? I know I’m not alone.

(images, left to right) Bleaching my hair with lemon juice, filming snippets for our upcoming ‘Place Portraits’ video and learning to eat crisps in a handstand.

Meanwhile, frontline workers continue to fight for us all. To save our lives.

The juxtaposition of the chilling images we see on the news about Covid-19 against the confines of the little cottage we’re currently staying in is bizarre. Each day I read new statistics about people dying, articles about PPE shortages and quotes from global health authorities telling us the worst is yet to come.The boredom and helplessness I’m feeling shrink in comparison to the intensity of this global pandemic. My emotions seem petty and mundane, perhaps even pathetic. And yet, something tells me these emotions are still legitimate. That all of our emotions are legitimate, as we each attempt to process the situation and what it could mean for the future.

The future is no longer a thing which feels predictable. We have stepped over the cliff edge, and as each day that the pandemic unfolds, we are in new territory. Of course, one of the opportunities presented by such an enormous global event is the chance to reassess how we live on this planet, redefining the new ‘normal’.

I have always been interested in the study of the future, and using different approaches to imagine how it may play out. And yet whilst there are opportunities amid the crisis, right now, I’m terrified by what I see. Yes, there are clues and behaviour changes that we can use to project future scenarios, but most of what is in front of us is completely unknown. We don’t know how long we have to work from home, furlough our staff, keep our children educated and occupied indoors or talk to loved ones through a screen. We don’t know what horrors tomorrow’s headlines will bring.

It feels like the world is staring into a dark abyss, reaching out for something to hold onto.

From a selfish perspective, not having any control over the future is a huge spanner in the works. Driving across Europe in a van and working as freelance videographers is the least ‘essential activity’ there could be, and we are conscious that governments have much more to focus on than two British travellers running out of money and desperate to continue their adventure. But it’s still so disheartening to be at the whim of something, something bigger and greater than you, particularly in light of the arduous year we spent preparing for this trip. There have certainly been a few tears here this week, and waves of the same emotions I felt when building the van and knowing there was a chance we would have to give up.

The weather really hasn’t helped lift the mood either. This region of Spain faced endless days of torrential rain this week which rendered the garden inundated and the road flooded. We couldn’t even get out to the supermarket and even worse, a leak developed in the roof of our van! It all felt rather doom and gloom.

(images, left to right) Torrential rain turned the road into a river, the point where we had to reverse all the way back home and couldn’t get to the supermarket, and a neighbouring lane which is closed off by Police.

One of the other realisations that brought me crashing down this week was sussing out that we’ll still be in lockdown for George’s thirtieth birthday. He’s not even someone who cares much for birthdays, but it had always been such an important milestone in my head and I was really looking forward to doing something nice together - going to a restaurant or watching live music or mooching around a city. Hilariously, back when we left Sydney we made a plan with our friends to have a reunion for George’s 30th… in Goa, India! It’s actually quite amusing to see how monumentally wrong we were in predicting the future, as we are thousands of miles off India right now.

All that said, George has been a cornerstone. Not just to comfort me about his birthday, but to be there through this all. We sort of balance one another out, ready with a positive mindset and hug when the other one is feeling super low.

If there’s one thing life in lockdown has strengthened, it’s our relationship.

On a lighter note, George embarked on a grand mission to make the best homemade ramen on Sunday. It all started with the broth, inspired by a zany French chef he follows on YouTube, and by mid-morning the cottage was filled with the smell of this incredible broth combining vegetable peelings with burnt garlic, ginger, miso paste and soy. What started as a broth-making test unfolded across the day, and saw him make handmade noodles, a sticky garlic and sesame sauce, soy soaked eggs and grilled tomatoes. Needless to say, watching George’s ramen odyssey was definitely the most entertainment I had all day!

(images, left to right) George’s homemade noodles (as food stocks were running low), the finished ramen, and the delicious oily and fatty broth in progress.

The two of us have also been working on a new video that will be released on the Broaden YouTube this Saturday (25th April). It’s a far cry from ‘The Hundred Miler’, but hopefully will be well-received nonetheless. It’s called ‘Place Portraits’, and we filmed it back in Paris, in the first week on the road back when temperatures lingered around zero degrees. Whilst we haven’t been as excited about making videos as we usually would be, I continue to be grateful to have a creative focus amid the pandemic, and being stuck inside is forcing me to get inventive with ideas for upcoming projects.

I also love seeing things that people have baked, sung, written, built and performed across the world each day online. The internet can be an incredible place.

As I write this, I reflect on a rocky week battling the internal voices and contradictory emotions of lockdown.

It’s a strangely tiring combination: of not knowing what the future looks like and trying to make sense of a world devoid of human contact or normal routines. Each day, let alone this whole week, has been filled with so many highs and lows that by the evening, I’m left feeling exhausted and churned up inside.

But we made it. We made it another week in lockdown and I’m so glad I have this blog as a place to reflect. I hope it’s also a place where my honesty (and in this week’s post, my negativity) makes you not feel so alone in your emotions.

As if she knew I needed her right now, Mother Nature has finally blessed us with glorious sunshine and I can already feel my mood lifting. Perhaps the pain associated with this period is also signifying something else: growth. As we face this together, and all of the ugly emotions that come along with it, we learn more about ourselves and human nature, and in doing so, we grow.

p.s. apologies if this week’s post was all doom and gloom! If it was, may I redirect you to last week’s ‘photo essay’ as a soothing antidote.

#traveldiaries #life in lockdown #covid-19 #estado de alarma #coronavirus #BryonyandGeorge #suzithevan #digitalnomads #vanliving

1 note · View note

missstormcaller · 6 years ago

Text

CAN’T FEAR YOUR OWN WORLD Vol. II Part 13 Full Translation

This is 1/4 of part 13 on the app

Chapter 12

Fullbringer.

Those who were born amid a connection between man and Hollow that has lasted since ancient times, those who were born out of the cracks.

As for why they came into being, excluding some among the Shinigami, there are few who know the truth.

To the Fullbringers themselves, just as the very concept defied logic, its significance was also incomprehensible; 'power' was bestowed to them from a reality which they had no say in, one in which their 'parents were attacked by Hollows'. There are also those who consider these powers convenient, and thus they choose to indulge in it. However, in the end it is mere borrowed plumes. Those who simply continue to use their powers as they desire without even understanding the significance behind the extraordinary abilities that were bestowed upon them, eventually bring about their own demise. Those who choose not to wallow in greed also possess power that no others had, naturally this caused them to drift away from the world, and as a result, the individuals who ended up remaining hidden from society were in the majority. to go into specifics, the unique inherent ability that is born by distorting the nature of an object they hold a particular attachment to through the power of Fullbring, that is surely something given by gods —— or perhaps it can even be described as the stuff of the gods in itself; rather than being an exaggerated notion, one might be able to say it partially rearranges the foundation on which the 'world's mode of existence' is built. As if saying it was one of their privileges to be able to raise an objection against a system of a world decided by others. An attachment to something in one's vicinity. In other words, the innate abilities belonging to Fullbringers, is the very source which causes them to grow alienated from the world, and at the same time, it is also the chain that keeps these isolated individuals tethered to it. Then what of those who hold no attachment?

Those who were unable to harbour the slightest fragment of sentiment towards the world, towards the various items among their personal effects, and ultimately, even towards their own life; Fullbringers who have refused to establish a connection, have feelings of love or even hatred, what kind of situation do they eventually arrive at as a result?

Michibane Aura was one answer to that question.

She is an extremely rare case, a Fullbringer of two consecutive generations. It appears that her father was a Fullbringer by nature, and her mother an ordinary human being. A chance meeting between her Fullbringer father and her ordinary human mother, a realisation of their hopes. Joined in marriage by a love that endured hardships different to that of ordinary people, the two were bound by fate. —— However, her mother, a mere human, came to be attacked by a Hollow. Her Fullbringer father beat the Hollow back by making full use of his powers, but by that point Aura's mother had obtained a serious injury. They were able to safely deliver their unborn child —— but in return, her wounds were so severe that she ended up losing her life.

Could it not be down to the fact that he was a Fullbringer, the fact that the foetus was tainted with his blood, which ultimately attracted the Hollow? The father who considered as much, continued endlessly to seek out a way to eradicate this power from within himself, even after Aura was born. He isn't the only one who would have to carry on like this. After all, he feared that Aura too would be rejected by the world. Then, ten-odd years later. Towards an Aura who had quickly grown, her father raises his voice after giving a look of great joy. —— "Rejoice, for both I and Aura may be freed from this curse."

—— "There's a Substitute Shinigami who goes by the name of Ginjō Kūgo, he's gathering comrades."

—— "I'm not sure what sort of thing a Substitute Shinigami is supposed to be, but that man, he's a credible fellow."

—— "Because he says, he will absorb the Hollow powers out of our bodies for us."

—— "First, I shall test to see whether or not it's safe. And supposing there were no problems with my findings…"

—— "Aura, then you can live a normal life." As she listened to those words which comprised of hope, jubilation, and the slightest fragment of anxiety, Aura tried to wrap her head around it. —— 'Normal', I wonder what that is. —— Why? —— Aren't Hollow powers, the source of the Fullbring that father taught me? —— Why must we hand it over to somebody else? —— Do we have to eliminate it? —— Then, once we've done such a thing, I'll have nothing whatsoever. —— To live a normal life, what does it mean? —— Does this mean, the current me is not considered 'normal'? Father. Aura who had been confined to a basement by the hands of her father, suddenly contemplated such things.

Aura's father may have been broken by his wife's death. Even though he had confined his own daughter to the basement of their home, he by no means restored to violence, nor did it mean that he neglected her upbringing. As far as her father was concerned, she was something that must be protected, she was all that was left of his beloved wife, that is to say, she was also his very reason of being. He had to protect her. From the Hollows, from the prying eyes of the human race, from the world itself which considered them heretics. For Aura who was brought up within a fish tank-like room at the basement level of their mansion, her world was limited to this confined space and her father alone. If it would only bring her sorrow to learn of the world, her father would make sure not to grant her even a single book. Not to speak of a television, he didn't even inform her of the vast expanse of space which lies beyond her room, she was merely taught such things as basic reading, writing and physical laws, and given training on Fullbring techniques in order to protect herself from Hollows. Her world was complete with that alone. A world that would never be encumbered, and relative to that, neither is it one that would ever expand. A tasteless and odourless world. A world without colour.

A world void of freedom.

A world where one is unable to even discern what difference there was between hope and despair. Her father's cooking was just about the only thing that roused her emotions. Though she had memories of his delicious home cooking, her father had headed towards the location of the man known as Ginjō before it could form a foundation of her Fullbring as the 'attachment'.—— And he never returned again. Even Aura with her limited knowledge is quick to understand that some kind of abnormality had occurred. Nevertheless, she was not able to judge for herself what to do in such an event. Hunger, it is said to be one of the most painful sufferings among the agonies a human being can experience. For Aura who was at least made to eat her meals at her own convenience despite being confined, this first taste of pain was enough to splinter her immature psyche. Even so, that she was not completely broken, was it the result of the Fullbring training which she had been initiated into by her father? Or perhaps, a benefit from the 'factor' that has been present within her as a Fullbringer from the very beginning? Either way, she succeeded in overcoming the situation before the point of no return. When her sense of hunger reached its limit, she raised her hands to the walls of her water tank-like room, drew out its soul using her Fullbringer powers, set it to work, and then —— In the next instant, those walls that confined her —— the tempered glass of her tank is reduced to sand entirely, disappearing from her presence.

With staggered movements, the young girl she was stepped out from the basement and towards the 'outside world'. Remaining oblivious to even the fact that this was still part of the mansion known as her 'inner world', she completely destroys the locks on the doors which were applied sevenfold, and continues walking. The 'world' she had grasped with her own hands for the first time, took the form of a portion of ingredients located inside the kitchen. Having realised that it was something her father puts into the food he would prepare for her, she gave into instinct and devoured it greedily —— the taste of decay immediately resulted in her spitting it out. Ironically, the only part of the 'world' that offered her attachment, ended up being rejected by own body. If it were not for that process, she may have been awakened to her own innate abilities which took 'food' as her attachment and then lived out the rest of her life as an 'ordinary' Fullbringer. Perhaps she would have encountered the man named Ginjō Kugō, perhaps she would have battled Kurosaki Ichigo, or maybe it would have brought about a distinct salvation. However, things didn't work out that way. In her world, something that entertained enough attachment to maintain a connection, never made an appearance. Alternatively, though it was a skewed relationship, it may have been the case that her very father was the link that served as an attachment for her —— and yet, even he disappeared from Aura's world.

Collapsing upon reaching the 'outside' in the true sense of the word, she was lucky to be discovered by a passer-by and was thus given protection by the police as a result. When they found signs of her confinement in her crumbling home, for a short while, the public were in an uproar over the perverseness of the father who imprisoned his own daughter, but soon after, even that uproar died down, and the girl known as Aura was completely forgotten from this world. Perhaps feeling that the girl would be unable to go by a surname belonging to the sort of father who would confine his own daughter; at the hands of the relatives on her mother's side that took her into the care of the Michibane family, she was to live her life after that as "Michibane Aura."

A time span of several more years had passed since then —— she was being integrated into general social life. To say she ‘was integrated’ is probably not entirely accurate. Completely effacing her very being, she continued to pass the time like weeds growing by the roadside. Her physical appearance was very beautiful, naturally it was no surprise that she attracted the eyes of both men and women without discrimination, yet even considering the idea that she hadn't drawn the attention, perhaps it might also be her Fullbring that exerted some kind of influence on her surroundings. It's not like it was her intention to hide from the world. However, given that she was unable to harbour any interest whatsoever towards the world, it's only natural that she would remain placid in that kind of way. Regarding her father whom she had nothing but trust for, the people around her would relentlessly slander him saying "he's a wicked person" and "forget about such a man." If she considers it from the angle of her knowledge of life as a member of society which she later acquired, then admittedly her father could probably be regarded as depraved. Aura had come to notice that as she matured, but now that things have come to pass, it made no difference to her. As far as she was concerned, the real world was inside the confined space of that glass tank, but without any attachment being born there —— even in this 'new world' which should have been stimulating, its entirety can only be seen as an extension of that glass tank.

Upon stretching her interpretation of the world, to her, there was no such thing as 'an existence with an attachment' that was enough to force her 'Fullbring' to develop —— Nevertheless, when Aura herself is asked about this matter, what she had was one sole answer.

"What is important to me… is the very Fullbring that I learned from my father. This saved my life. I was able to survive because of it. Nothing else is needed. I may be indifferent about my father. However, the Fullbring I learned from him, it's my everything." And the 'architect of the question' who had heard that answer, spoke whilst nodding approvingly. "I see, yes I see, so this is how you've grown up huh? How very amusing." She immediately understood that the man who had flashed a sinister smile, is 'something' different to the people around her. 'It' suddenly appeared before her one day. It could not be seen by anyone other than herself. It was a being akin to the white monsters that would attack her from time to time. The man, clad in strangely outdated garments, opens his mouth to speak whilst watching her closely as if in assessment. "You're able to hunt down even Huge Hollows at your age? Moreover, it's highly intriguing that you're using nothing but the basic techniques of a Fullbringer." So saying, the man kicked at the remnants of the white monsters that had been dealt with by Aura just a moment ago and now lay strewn around their feet. "…Who are you? You're not a human are you?" "Oh, me? Where are my manners. I am what you people would call a 'god'. I am what's known as a 'Shinigami'. Have you never heard of our existence from your father?" —— Shinigami. What is recollected in her mind, is not not the absolute being who governs death which occasionally appears in the likes of books that she had read on the 'outside'… but rather, the words her father had left with her in the end.

—— "A Substitute Shinigami who goes by the name of Ginjō, he's gathering comrades."

"…Ginjō?" In response to Aura's murmur, the man who claimed to be a Shinigami laughed in delight. "Hahahaha! I didn't see that coming! What a pity, what a great pity indeed! I guess it would be ideal if that were the case though. Both for you, and for Ginjō Kugō himself." "Who… are you?" Confronted by Aura who, without even a tinge of emotion, raised this question carried in words that only entertained uncertainty, the man blithely contorted his lips even further whilst stating his own name. "My name is Tokinada. Tsunayashiro Tokinada." "Tokinada…?" "Are lowly humans always this rude? You should address me with 'sama'. That's 'Tokinada sama' to you. At present I'm still under house arrest, but the Human World is so very fascinating these days, I have a tendency to sneak out against my better judgement.… Well, that's fine proof that the lot from the head house take no notice of the likes of me." Faced with the man before her eyes who gave an answer to a question she hadn't asked, and on top of that, continues to speak of matters she couldn't quite comprehend the meaning of, Aura tilted her head in confusion, but then —— The matter he spoke of in the next instant, resulted in forcibly drawing her interest. "Ah, that's right, you want to know who I am, rather than my name and circumstances." Just as the friendly smile had emerged on his face, he easily let slip the truth. "It's an uncomplicated matter really. I am a descendant of the family who ordered the killing of your father." "…Huh?" Aura's countenance which was like a deadpan mask, is now thrown into immense disarray for the first time. As if to say that he also found her reaction amusing, the 'Shinigami' who introduced himself as Tokinada, assembles more words. "Your father, his whereabouts is supposedly unknown… but in fact, he's already dead. It won't hurt to thank me for saving you the time and effort to go searching for him you know? If you wish to bawl your eyes out, that would be amusing in its own way. If you wish to revile me as the enemy of your father and kill me in an act of revenge, I'd still consider that fun. Kidō against Fullbring, shall we see which one will come out on top in a contest of skill?" "…I don't understand what you're getting at. My father, your saying he was killed by your family? Why?" "Hn? Oh, the reason? The reason huh. If I could answer you with 'there is no such reason' then it might be possible to belittle your father's memory even more, however I suppose I may as well answer you honestly." Tokinada slowly walked around Aura, at the same time he observes a fluctuation of her Reiatsu. Although he could see her confusion, he could not sense any feelings of unrest caused by emotions like anger or sorrow. As he examined her carefully with eyes that appeared as if they were gazing at a rare species, Tokinada uttered the answer to her question. "It's retrieval. What should be 'property' that originally belongs to us, was fused with the souls of people like your father, and yourself." "……?" "Well, I suppose it doesn't matter does it? What's the most important thing now? What of the detestable family of adversaries, who robbed you of the world inside that confined glass tank that was oh-so precious to you, who now stands before your very eyes?" Hearing those words, Aura's eyes begin to narrow. "You even know about… my past?" "Yes, but of course. Because I have been watching. I suppose the factor lay hidden on your mother's side too. That it would be passed down for two consecutive generations, and what's more, to be a Fullbringer at the same time, this is an extremely rare case. Naturally, you were observed. So, what will you do? Do you accept my challenge of a duel? Obviously I will put up a resistance." "…. There's no need. To be honest, I'm not interested." Watching Aura as she readily shook her head, Tokinada laughs. "Hahaha, that's right, yes I thought as much, you probably don't have that kind of disposition. In the past, when I tested a man who abandoned himself to sentiment, quite the opposite of you, I employed a more elaborate act. Yes, the way that man glared at me with his unseeing eyes, even thinking back on it now, it's intoxicating.… Though, the concept of intoxication itself seems to be nonexistent to you in the first place." After talking about someone who was not present at the scene right now, Tokinada remarked as if treating Aura with contempt. Remaining void of both indignation and fear towards this, Aura poses a question regarding her own fate in an unfazed manner. "Do you intend to kill me too?" "Yes, eventually. Depending on the situation, I may even spare you." "Eventually…?" Towards the man who had declared that her own execution looms ahead, she harboured no emotion whatsoever as before, at the same time, Aura could hardly fathom the other party's intentions and is thus bewildered. Or perhaps, that very bewilderment is the closest element to what constitutes an emotion permitted to Aura. Tokinada reveals his own objectives to her in all sincerity. -- -- As if to announce that he looked forward to how she would receive it, and whatever ending it would lead to. "The 'factor' that dwells within you; rather than retrieving it as components, it's more interesting to put it into operation through a single unit, besides it looks like you would come in handy as a game piece under my control." "I would be… your game piece? What for?" "You have no attachment to this world, correct? That being the case, we should repaint the world anew. If we forge a new world, then maybe you will come to find something you can harbour an attachment to along with it?" Whether or not he was simply talking at random with those words, Aura who at the time was unfamiliar with the world, was unable to understand. Like the snake who enticed the first of mankind, Tokinada gradually ensnares his victim with the thread that are his words. "The heart and left arm ended up returning to that Quincy lot… but what exists within you is also rather unique. I want to turn you into my game piece at all costs. I shall give you something you desire. As long as it's within my power to do so of course." "…Right now, there is no such thing that I desire." "Then, someday its time will come but until then you should give it some consideration. Also, if you are to become my game piece, when it comes to the way you treat others at least, you should do a little better. It doesn't matter if you have to force a smile. Your faint smile, I dare say it's likely to beguile both men and women alike." Disregarding the words of Tokinada who spoke of an unsettling matter, she continued with her questions as if keeping after him. "What is it that dwells within me?" In response to that query, the man grins widely as he reveals a certain truth to Aura. .

. "An organ referred to as the 'Saketsu' (*Binding Chain)… which belongs to a being called the Soul King."

#can't fear your own world #CFYOW #BLEACH #BLEACH NOVEL #mytranslationtag #michibane aura #Tokinada Tsunayashiro #Soul King #Saketsu of the Soul King #ginjo kugo #Fullbringer #Tsunayashiro clan #Ryohgo Narita

140 notes · View notes

fuckyeahgakuenheaven · 6 years ago

Photo

In 2014, Spray posted a long and detailed birthday event for Yuki on Twitter! It was the first major Twitter event to happen after the release of the game and they really went all out with the story. There was even a series of summer themed goods with illustrations that match the story, even though the items weren’t officially linked with the story. BUT WE KNOW.

Here’s the translation. :D (most of it is under a cut because it’s looooooong)

~~~

August 1

Sonoda: Hey, Yuki-kun, do you want to work tomorrow?

Yuki: Work?

Sonoda: Yeah. An acquaintance of mine who has a beach house, it seems his staff have all caught summer colds. He's looking for temp staff.

Sonoda: I've asked the people who stayed at the dorm who seem like they had nothing to do, but won't you do it too? I'll throw in my meals, and as much playing in the ocean as you want, and as much flirting as you want.

Yuki: I don't care about the flirting, but if I can eat your food, I'll go!!

August 2

Yuki: Today I'm going to work at a beach house as Sonoda-san's helper!

Yuki: We're going in this minibus...?

Chiba: Leave any watermelon splitting to me.

Kuya: Good morning, Yuki! We were waiting for you to arrive. Let's a have a fun day today!

Takato: You're helping Sonoda, aren't you? We can't just make Asahina work by himself, we're helping too.

Joker: I look forward to seeing Ace-kun in a swimsuit♪

Sonoda: Yuki-kun, thank you for coming today. I'll let you eat as much food as you work for.

Arata: If Yuki and everyone is going, I guess I can enjoy the ocean.

Tomo: Yuki, did you bring a swimsuit?

Yagami: Asahina, you hurting for money too? The band ate my savings, so I have to earn something here or I'm screwed.

Yuki: Wow! Everyone's here. Oh, even Professor Sakaki!

Sakaki: You're all underage, so I'm here as your guardian. I'll be guarding against you all getting out of control, and being anything other than model students.

Kuya: By the way, Yuki. What is the swimsuit Joker was talking about before?

Yuki: Sonoda-san said wearing a swimsuit is basic when you're working at a beach house. Huh? You don't have one, Kuya-san?

Kuya: Mine is a Hawaiian shirt!

Chiba: Mine is a Hawaiian shirt too.

Kuya: We match!

Chiba: ... If my clothes match with you, I'd rather be naked.

Yuki: Naked would be bad, Chiba-san! Isn't Hawaiian okay? It has a summery, ocean feel!

Chiba: I see. If you say so....

Joker: No. Hayato, I'm confiscating your Hawaiian one. Here, wear this.

Yuki: Joker-san, why is it no good?

Joker: Well, look at this Hawaiian shirt. It's in the worst taste.

Yuki: Ugh.... This is... a bit unusual... I guess....

Kuya: What an original pattern!

Chiba: Is it that weird?

Joker: Yeah. A bit. Well, if you're going to train, Hayato, a swimsuit is better.

Chiba: Yes....

Yuki: Arata-san, do you have your usual swimsuit?

Arata: Since I'm not swimming in the ocean, I brought a hoodie and shorts. With a hoodie, Maro can be comfy too. (kuku!)

Yuki: Maro's with you too. Let's have fun today!

Yuki: We're here! The ocean! Ocean!

Takato: It's good weather.

Yagami: Too hot. How many years has it been since I was at a beach? If it wasn't today, I never would've come.

Kuya: Masatsugu!? What's with those sunglasses? They don't suit you!

Takato: Leave it alone, please. It's too bright.

Sonoda: Then, I'll divide the work. To attract customers, Kiyo, please flirt with the customers and bring them here.

Joker: Okay♪ Leave the flirting to me. I'll bring so many bikini babes there won't be room for them all.

Kuya: Flirting! That sounds fun! Then, I'll leave the sexy babes to Joker, and I'll bring couples. Rather than one by one, I'll gather two times the customers!

Arata: Since I can't be with Maro inside the restaurant, I guess I'll attract customers on the beach. Since the goal is to attract customers, I'll try calling out to families.

Chiba: Myself will....

Joker: Hayato, flirting is impossible for you. Oh, why don't you attract customers by shaving ice with a Japanese sword?

Chiba: Understood.

Sonoda: Hayato, you're in charge of selling shaved ice and drinks. Then, the one who will help me with the cooking is...

Yuki: I think Tomo would be good!

Tomo: Why me?

Yuki: Well, you're surprisingly skillful. If you go off somewhere, you'll goof off.

Sonoda: Is that ok? You're not very likely to flirt in here. And so, you too Professor Sakaki. If I don't make you work, you'll just drink the whole time.

Sakaki: Sonoda, what do think I am?

Takato: Then, Yagami and I will be in charge of the remaining hall.

Yagami: Yeah. I can carry plates. Leave it to me.

Yuki: What should I do?

Sonoda: For now, help where it seems busy. First, do the cooking prep for me.

Yuki: Suuure!

Sonoda: Well, from here on, this will be a battlefield, so psych yourselves up. Professor Sakaki, you grill. Kasahara, you prep the shrimp. Yuki-kun, you wash all the vegetables here.

Yuki: Got it! ... Wait. Th, there's this many?

Tomo: Uwah, my shrimp is a huge pile.... Isn't this an Asian food restaurant? Aren't there too many types of dishes for a beach house?

Sonoda: In these times, it seems you can't sell just yakisoba. I've heard if a restaurant doesn't set itself apart, it won't survive.

Yuki: Besides, Tomo, I'm surprised you took this job.

Tomo: That's, well... I had time, and I heard you were joining, so....

Takato: I have an order. Green Curry, Ga-Prao, Pad Thai, Loco Moco, Yum Woon Sen, Mochiko Chicken, one each.

Sonoda: Roger. Here, Shanghai Yakisoba, Vietnam Fried Rice, ready.

Yuki: Wow, I don't even know what kind of foods those are, but they seem delicious. Besides, Sonoda-san, your cooking speed is amazing.

Sonoda: Yuki-kun, on top of drooling, your hands have stopped. If you have time to stare, get to work! When you're done with those, next is washing dishes!

Yuki: R, right! Sonoda-san, you're harsh. I don't even have time to stare at the food....

Tomo: (Sonoda-san is more mobile than he usually is in the school cafeteria. In that case, he could manage without at least me....)

Yuki: Tomo, were you just thinking that since Sonoda-san is working so hard, that you could goof off?

Tomo: I, I wasn't... thinking that.... (How did he find out?)

Sakaki: Kasahara, you should follow Sonoda's example.

Sonoda: Kasahara~~. In this situation, how dare you even think of taking it easy? I'm adding a hundred potatoes to peel.

Yuki: My condolences, Tomo.

Tomo: Oh no.

Sakaki: Hehe, that Sonoda, he's even more of a slave-driver than I am.

Sonoda: You're one to talk, Professor Sakaki. What is that you have in your hand that you're drinking?

Sakaki: Lao Jiu wine. It's pretty good.

Sonoda: You corrupt teacher.... You even added a peeled slice of green papaya that was for the Som Tam.

Yuki: It's better working diligently... but I can't stand the smell of the food Sonoda is making. It's been hours and hours and I've gotten hungry.

Tomo: Hm? What's that sound? It doesn't seem like the sound of Sonoda-san cooking.

Sakaki: Is it some creature's cry?

Yuki: It's, my stomach.... Smelling this scent made me hungry, and no matter how much I try to endure it, I can't stop it....

Sonoda: Oh, come to think of it, I promised you meals. You can eat this. It's my special Tom Yam Kung and Poo Pad Pong Curry!

Yuki: Thank you! Let's eat!! Fwaaah!! It's so delicious! The miraculous flavor of these spices blows away the heat! I could get used to the refreshing soup of this Tom Yam Kung. I'm so happy~.

Sonoda: I'm glad you like it. We seem to have enough people here, so won't you go see how the hall is doing?

Takato: Yagami, two Nasi Goreng, two Mi Goreng, for two tables please.

Yagami: Nasigo... argh, these all have annoying names! Two fried rice, two yakisoba, coming up!

Yuki: Welcome! Wah! Amazing, we're full!?

Yuki: Takato-san, Yagami, I've come to help.

Takato: Well then, I'm taking the orders, so Asahina, follow my directions along with Yagami, and please carry the food.

Yagami: That Secretary, he remembers it perfectly without taking notes. If you follow his directions, you won't make a mistake.

Yuki: Just what I'd expect of you, Takato-san!

Yuki: Alright! I wonder if could do it without mistakes....

Takato: Hmm. Asahina, you don't look bad in that apron with only a swimsuit on underneath. You look especially nice from the back.

Yuki: I knew it, Takato-san...

Yagami: I withdraw my praise from before.

Takato: I'm laboring diligently, surrounded by couples. Allow me the enjoyment of feasting my eyes.

Yuki: If you're okay with this, then feast to your heart's content. Well, let's do our best for the lunch rush and get through this!

Yuki: ... Oh, putting this and this on the tray, it's heavy.... You can really hold a lot, Yagami.

Yagami: Because playing an instrument builds up muscle in your arms. Look, my bicep.

Yuki: Your arm looks like a chicken drumette baked golden brown.... I want to take a bite out of it... *drool*

Yagami: ... I'm not food! Hurry and carry these!

Yuki: Riiight! Ok, I'll do my best!

Yuki: Phew, finally a pause.

Yagami: Those guys attracting customers got too carried away. Think about my capacity!

Takato: Since it seems we're running low on ingredients, it's time to refrain from attracting more.

Yuki: Then I'll go tell the group attracting customers!

Yuki: Everyone! How is attracting customers coming along?

Arata: Mm, I guess with that family I just guided before, that's 22 people. Since I have Maro, they all call out to me. (Kuku!)

Kuya: Amazing, Aratan! I finally got 10 people.

Joker: Well, Sagimori-sempai, since you were giving people directions and helping lost kids find their parents, you didn't attract any customers at all. Like this, I'll win the match with room to spare.

Yuki: Match? Are you competing? Yagami says to drop your pace a little.

Arata: That's right. It's bad to make customers line up too much. Maybe you should stop competing.

Kuya: But since Yuki is here, how about Yuki joins too and we have one final match? I aim to pull off an upset win!

Joker: Then, I'll give you a handicap. Yuki-kun, you'll start at +15. I'm in first place with 23, so if you can get just 10 people, you'll be at the top. There's something nice if you get first place, so do your best★

Yuki: Um, somehow I've ended up participating in a contest to attract customers? Oh well. Joker-san said there's something nice if I get first place and... oh. I found a group of tourists! Excuse me! There's a beach house with really delicious food, how about it?

Arata: Time's up. Well then, I'll announce the results! 2nd place Joker, 3rd place Arata. At the bottom with a decisive lead, O-Sagi-san. And impressively in 1st place is Yuki! Congratulations. ... This many in just under ten minutes, you're amazing after all, Yuki. You have a charm that draws people in.

Yuki: Haha, it's because the first group of tourists I called out to by chance said ok, so it was just good luck.

Joker: Then as promised, the person in first place gets treated by the person in last.

Kuya: Yeah, I'll treat you to anything! Tell me what you want to eat. Hotdogs? Roasted corn? Soft serve ice cream?

Yuki: Then, shaved ice. I've been hot for a while.

Joker: In that case, make it Hayato's shaved ice. He's been working hard by himself over there since before. Also, Sagimori-sempai, if you want to make an erotic overture, you'll have to do it better or it won't get through.

Kuya: Hm!? But Masatsugu said that swimsuit-clad cuties eating cylindrical things at a summer beach is the basics of eros in midsummer. Is that wrong?

Yuki: I want to eat those even more now....

Arata: Yuki, if you're going to eat shaved ice, can I come too? I had a plastic bottle of ice I was using to keep Maro cool, but it melted. (Kuu~)

Yuki: Then let's go over to the shaved ice. Chiba-san! How is it going over there... oh, there's so many people gathered around!

Kuya: Just what I'd expect from Chiba-sempai! He really is shaving ice with a Japanese sword!

Chiba: Asahina. You're here.

Joker: Hayato, a shaved ice for Yuki-kun. Oh, Sagimori-sempai will be paying.

Chiba: Alright. Watch from there. ... Huff! ... Done. What flavor do you want?

Yuki: Then, make it blue hawaii. Let's eat.... It's delicious! Chiba-san, you're amazing. This ice melts like fine snow in my mouth!!

Joker: Wow, really? Then, I'd like a bite of yours too, Yuki-kun.

Yuki: Alright. Here, say ah.

Kuya: That's not fair, Joker! Yuki, me too....

Arata: Somehow, O-Sagi-san, you're awfully greedy today. Did the heat get to you...?

Yagami: You jerks, don't be goofing off here!

Arata: Oh, Reo-Reo. Good work. Is managing the restaurant going ok?

Joker: Since we attracted that many people, it's like you should be grateful for a full house.

Yagami: You've got to be kidding me. We're over capacity. Asahina, you didn't forget you were supposed to tell them to stop attracting customers, did you? Just before, a group of over 20 tourists barged in. The Secretary is losing his temper, Sonoda's about to freak out, and the inside of the restaurant is a picture of Hell.

Yuki: Oh, sorry. I'm the one who summoned that group of tourists.

Kuya: We're sorry, Yagami-kun! Well then, let's quit attracting customers and help in the restaurant!

~~~

Yuki: Phew, somehow it's at an end.

Sonoda: We're almost sold out on ingredients for the restaurant, and we've met our sales target, so go play in the ocean.

Joker: But if we're going to do that, I want some sort of prize. I know! How about the right to play alone with Yuki-kun on the beach?

Yuki: Huh, what's that supposed to be!?

Joker: Then, why don't we all play beach volleyball?

Kuya: That's a great idea!

Takato: Oh, that's not bad.

Joker: Hayato. You're on my team.

Chiba: Understood.

Arata: That's nice.... In that case, maybe I'll try to win.

Yagami: Then, will you be on my team? I don't really get the point of the prize, but I won't lose a match.

Yuki: Um, what about what I want...?

Tomo: Give it up. When Joker-san is enjoying himself like that, there's no stopping him.

Joker: True, maybe we should stop. Take a look at the ocean.

Yuki: Hm? W, what's that!? That's a huge wave... and is that a shark by it? Uh-uh, a giant squid?

Joker: An unknown creature? Oka-chan would enjoy it. Let's try catching it.

Yuki: Uwaaaah! It's coming this way!!

Chiba: Leave this to me, get back, Asahina!

Kuya: It's really big, but it's moving slowly. It doesn't seem that dangerous, does it?

Chiba: Perfect, there's a sword here. Then, I'll cut it...!

Yuki: What should we do? "Run?" "Fight?" "Catch?" I'll ask everyone watching on Twitter. What should I do?

Takato: I agree with "run." It's said a wise man keeps away from danger, isn't it?

Chiba: "Fight" of course...!

Kuya: I put in one vote for "catch." It's possible it might be a nice animal, right?

Yuki: Alright, then "catch" it is!

Tomo: Seriously?

Kuya: Roger!

Joker: Hayato, help catch it!

Chiba: Understood! Huh!? Asahina, don't plunge in alone! ... Sagimori, you go in from the left. Myself will go around from the right.

Kuya: Alright! Let's both back up Yuki! Don't let down your guard, Chiba-sempai!

Yuki: Caaaught yooou! ... Oh, huh? This isn't a squid. It's a giant squid-shaped kite. Man, and I wanted to eat it if it was a giant squid.... So disappointing. (note: Yuki is not just talking about a large squid, he is referring to the giant squid, genus Architeuthis.)

Chiba: ... It wasn't an enemy?

Arata: Is everyone ok? Is it okay for Maro to get close? (Kyuu...)

Kuya: Too bad! It can't be our friend like this.

Yagami: It wasn't worth all the fuss.

Sakaki: It looks like you don't have to be so disappointed. There's a lot of fish stuck in the fabric of that kite.

Yuki: You're right! Over here and over there, there's lots of fish! Are these edible?

Takato: It appears so. Squid, mackerel, flounder, turban snails, and there's even spiny lobster, it seems.

Sonoda: Then, shall we have a barbecue with these ingredients?

Yuki: Woohoo. Seafood barbecue!!

Kuya: Nice, barbecue! I couldn't agree more!

Chiba: Seafood barbecue, huh. Sounds delicious.

Takato: Then let's all help Sonoda. It would be terrible to leave it all to him alone.

Yuki: Riiight!

~~~

Yuki: Phwaaah, I'm so full, and so happy. Now that I'm full, I've gotten kind of sleepy. The evening salt breeze feels nice and listening to sound of waves is kind of... zzzz

Joker: Oh, Yuki-kun is asleep. Such a cute sleeping face. He's so cute, I want to carry him back like this★

Tomo: What's cute about him drooling and half smiling? That Yuki, he's dreaming about eating something for sure.

Sonoda: He worked hard, so let him sleep for a while. We also have preparations to make.

Sakaki: Anyway, someone carry him to where he won't get swept away by the tide.

Yagami: Geez, can't be helped. Hey, Chiba. You get his legs. ... Whoops, he's heavier than he looks, isn't he?

Chiba: You're just carrying him wrong. Give him here. You'd be likely to drop him on his head.

Kuya: No, no, Chiba-sempai. Leave this to me! Carrying Yuki alone will be a piece of cake! ... Why aren't you moving away?

Arata: Both of you, if you keep talking like that, Ace-kun will wake up.

Takato: Good grief. You should both carry him. Look, there's a bench in the shade right over there, so please let him sleep there.

Chiba: ... Alright. Don't drop him, Sagimori.

Kuya: Of course. Then, try not to shake him....

~~~

Yuki: Hm...? Ah! Shoot! Did I fall asleep? And it's already pitch black outside!!

Chiba: Asahina Yuki, happy birthday!

Kuya: Happy birthday, Yuki!

Takato: Asahina, happy birthday.

Joker: Ace-kun, s dnyom rozhdeniya!! (happy birthday in Russian)

Sonoda: Yuki-kun, happy birthday!

Arata: Happy birthday, Yuki.

Tomo: Yuki, happy birthday!

Yagami: Happy birthday.

Sakaki: Asahina, happy birthday.

Yuki: Huh? What?

Joker: Well then, let's have it★

Yuki: youtu.be/E0cd_8sjg6Y (fireworks)

Yuki: Uwaaah! It's skyrockets! Pretty!

Kuya: It's a birthday present from us to you!

Yuki: Oh, but the skyrockets are going really high...

Sonoda: So, that's why everyone worked hard all day to earn the money to buy the skyrockets with the sales at the beach house. It was perfect that the beach house was short on help.

Takato: The skyrockets were Joker's idea, but it wasn't a bad plan, so we all went along with it.

Yuki: Oh, so that's why even people who wouldn't normally participate came to work too.

Tomo: Yeah, I guess. I was a bit impatient for you to suspect.

Yagami: I didn't have any money on hand. If not, a touristy beach like this......

Arata: But the ocean was fun. I'm glad we celebrated Yuki's birthday here.

Chiba: Yeah. ... How was it, Asahina? Did you like it?

Yuki: Of course! I really had a lot of fun today. And the fireworks were beautiful.

Sakaki: The fee for arranging for a pyrotechnician and the launch was funded by my meager salary. Be grateful.

Joker: Actually I wanted even more impressive fireworks that would spell out a birthday message for you in the night sky, but it was over budget. But they were plenty pretty.

Yuki: Yes! I'll never forget it for the rest of my life. It was a wonderful birthday!!

Yuki: Kuya-san, Takato-san, Joker-san, Sonoda-san, Chiba-san, Arata-san, Tomo, Yagami, Professor Sakaki, thank you! And thank you everyone celebrating on Twitter!!

#gakuen heaven #gakuen heaven 2 #gh2 translation #asahina yuki #character birthday #twitter event

5 notes · View notes