#but It’s really easy for me to put that aside and enjoy the interviews themselves (not saying anyone has to copy me w this!)
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I’m gonna stop letting others influence my opinion and straight up say I think the wrong cat died podcast is good and more informative then most of the wiki pages
#I really value hearing what the actors have to say about their own experiences#Character Interpretation and performances#But I understand not liking it on the premise of Grizabella being the wrong cat to die#I think she was the only option that narratively made sense myself#but It’s really easy for me to put that aside and enjoy the interviews themselves (not saying anyone has to copy me w this!)#I see most discussions around the podcast being negative so I just wanted to give my thoughts as an enjoyer#That’s all! Have a nice day
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Ok so this is the third time that I'm sending you an ask tonight. (or is it night time in your country?) I'm being annoying right now but whatever. So I've been cackling about those salt fics you wrote because they are just amazing. I have a request, though it is up to you to write it or not. So, can you write a salt fic where someone got an interview with Ladybug (probably Aurore) and then they ask her why they replaced the old heroes like Rena Rouge, Carapace and etc. and LB is just like I don't work with dumb shits or somethin'. Then there is also a new Black Cat (Probably Luka, Felix, or Damian) because Adrien here is an asshole and this fic is saltier than salt water. Then LB also insults Alya's blog and their school. Those foolish mortals get some lawsuits and the rest is up to you. (This request is probably messed up since it's already midnight here and I can't sleep.)
You're never annoying, I just apologize that it took me so long to get to you. I do hope you don't hold it against me, darling.
A one on one interview with Ladybug was basically unheard of if you weren't the Ladyblog or Nadja Chadwick. Ladybug had made it firm that she wasn't a celebrity, she was a hero. She wasn't there for clout, for attention, for fame or fortune. She just wanted to keep Paris safe.
That's was Aurore admired about her. And why she felt queasy as she sat across from the heroine, who had given her of all people an interview. But she got ahold of herself, taking deep breaths as the cameraman began counting down. And when he hit 'one', she put on her best smile and straightened in her seat.
"Hello Paris! Welcome back to 'Latest Buzz'! I am your lovable host, Aurore Beauréal. Today I am here with a very, very special guest, our very own heroine of Paris; Ladybug!"
Ladybug beamed right at the camera, but gave a shy little wave, giving away the nerves she obviously had.
"Now, Ladybug, I'm so glad you requested to be on the show. You know, I initially thought I had misheard when Estelle told me. Usually you're not big on personal interviews." Aurore gave her full attention to Ladybug, but keeping the bright, friendly smile and perfect posture.
"Well, I tried a few times actually. But when I did, none of them were really great experiences." Ladybug admitted and both girls immediately thought of that disastrous Face-to-Face interview. It left a bitter taste in their mouths. "My issue is that misinformation has been spread around a lot recently. It's made me realize that I need to find more trustworthy sources."
"Ladybug. I vow on my integrity as a host and Estelle's reputation as a journalist that we are people who research facts. We don't ambush our guests, we respect them." She said, placing a hand on her heart. Ladybug saw an honesty in her eyes that she hadn't seen in such a long time. It honestly made her feel.. Respected. "Now, Ladybug.. We both know you have a lot of fans. A lot of admirers. False information can be spread so easily these days, which sources specifically are you telling people to avoid?"
"Well.. With Face-to-Face, I found that I was entirely ambushed in that interview. I wanted to speak about my hero work, but instead Nadja kept trying to needle her way into my personal life. That picture she had shown in largely out of context; when Dark Cupid attacked and Chat Noir was under his spell, it was the only way to get him free."
"Yes, I remember watching that. I'll be honest Ladybug, I felt bad for you." Aurore bit her lip, but smiled a bit when Ladybug nodded. "I mean, Chat Noir wasn't helping either. He seemed to be trying to push this narrative forward that you two are a couple."
"And we're not!" Ladybug burst out before she could stop herself. Everyone in that studio could hear the utter stress and frustration in her voice. "I've begged and begged Chat Noir to stop with the flirting, the 'telling people we're dating', everything! I just wanted him to focus and he couldn't seem to do that!"
"Is that why you replaced him? Because of his slacking off and refusing to take anything seriously?" Aurora sat up an bit straighter, her eyes going wide.
".. Not exactly, no. It was a bunch of issues that eventually piled up and boiled over." Ladybug made some gestures with her hands, trying her hardest to find the words but just letting out a long and pained sigh in the end. "I do enjoy my new partner now. He is more serious, more stable. I know he won't go off and pout if I deny something he wanted. I needed an entirely new team, as a matter of fact."
"Well I am going to say, on behalf of everyone here, that we're glad. We swear on our integrity as journalists that if such rumours were to ever surface again, we will do our proper research." Aurore beamed and many of the staff and crew behind the cameras nodded and gave Ladybug their thumbs up. Honestly, it warmed Ladybug's heart to see such support.
When had been the last time someone had supported her like this? Sure, her parents supported her, but her friends..? Her peers? No, none of them had supported her in a long time.
"Speaking of research, I'd say to stay away from the Ladyblog." It burned to say it but it had to be said. Alya had crossed so many lines it wasn't even forgivable at this point. She had gone too far, had betrayed too many.
"Wait, what?" Aurore nearly jumped out of her seat but quickly composed herself, taking a deep breath. "Pardon me Ladybug, but the Ladyblog has been a vital source of information since the very beginning."
"And I'm not denying that!" Ladybug quickly held up her hands, her eyes desperate now. "But please let me explain. The Ladyblog was amazing in the beginning, but like all things, it started to go astray. It was things like trying so hard to find out my identity. Trying to push that narrative of that whole superhero couple thing.. Ladyblogger Alya Césaire has proven time and time again that she is not trustworthy. I mean, I thought she was my biggest fan. Why does she keep pushing my words aside?"
Many people who watched the interview would agree. If you idolized someone, respected someone, truly looked up to them.. Why would you push aside their words, their wishes to try and push the narrative you're so convinced is true, but isn't there?
"And don't get me started on the whole Lila Rossi craze she seemed to be on now." At Ladybug's mention of Lila Rossi, both Estelle and Aurore had to keep from rolling their eyes. They knew all about the girl.
"You speak as if you are quite frustrated, Ladybug. What an odd reaction to your best friend." Aurore leaned forward a bit in her seat. Everyone else got to the edge of theirs. Ladybug only shook her head, looking utterly defeated.
"That's the thing, she isn't my best friend." It took everything to keep from satin that she hated her, that she had taken away her friends and her life. "The only times she's met Ladybug is when she's been akumatized, which has been around six or seven times at this point. And the other things she's claiming are so outlandish! Saving Jagged Stone's kitten from a airport runway? Clara Nightengale stealing her dance moves? And the Ladyblog just posts it out there, claiming every single story is true. I'm just scared that people are taking this one hundred percent seriously. That's why I had to drop Rena Rouge and Carapace from the team as they believed Lila Rossi over me. They didn't even try to confirm these rumours! And it hurts to think that one day, someone will take Lila's words seriously and get hurt. What if she says it's safe to dip strawberries in bleach? Or tells someone that she found a way to tame some kind of wild animal? Someone would get hurt because they believe her story and try it out for themselves!"
"My goodness, I can definitely see how that is a problem. Misinformation is very easy to spread thanks to the internet, so you being worried is a very relatable thing." Aurore nodded, then tilted her head ever so slightly. "Ladybug, do you know anyone who has taken her word seriously? This is besides the Ladyblog of course."
Ladybug closed her eyes briefly, mentally debating with herself before finally giving in. These things needed to be said.
"Collège François DuPont. Now I wasn't there personally, but I heard about this situation and looked into it. The entire situation was appalling. Apparently a student was found to have cheated, assaulted another student, and commited thievery. But the thing that stuck out is only one person saw her do all of these things; Lila Rossi. No investigation was done, no questioning other students. This student was then expelled immediately. Her teacher and her principal didn't even give her a chance. And from what people have been saying, Miss Rossi's behaviour is actively encouraged in that school. She misses countless days, no, months of school, claiming she's traveling. But when she was supposedly in Achu, doing whatever it was she was claiming with Prince Ali, I was fighting her akuma here in Paris on Heroes Day!"
"I was at school the day that happened. I knew the student that happened to. They're the nicest person in that school! Never a bad thing to say about anyone, always willing to help! I agree with you on how things were handled, it's a level of incompetence that is baffling." Aurore's hands slowly curled into fists as she remembered it all. She slowly shook her head. "The principal, their teacher, their class who backed up Rossi. It must have hurt them so much, made them feel so alone."
"That's why I want people to be more careful with what information they take as fact. It's so important, because stuff like that can lead people to a desperate place. They feel alone, like the entire world is against them. I wouldn't have let the principal and the teacher get away with that gross negligence in their jobs." Ladybug leveled her gaze directly to the camera. "People of Paris, please listen to what I am saying. I am here to be a hero, to protect you from the terror of Hawkmoth and to defeat him. But please, do not be like Principal Damocles, do not be like that teacher and her class at DuPont. Do your research, look up your facts. Do not let a liar lead you to do something dangerous and hurt yourself as well as others. Respect each other, talk and be honest. I swear on my life that I shall do the same. You are the people I swore to protect and I love. I am saying this all to protect you. And I'll hope you'll all forgive me for not protecting you sooner."
...
The interview rocked Paris. Ladybug speaking so openly about her frustrations, about the discrepancies in the Ladyblog and Lila Rossi had many people double checking the sources of everything they learned from that blog.
Alya could barely show her face as she made her way though the school hallways. Her reputation as a journalist had gone down the drain. People had basically started boycotting her blog, harrassing her, or trash talking her on other forums and sites. Even a lot of news outlets picked this up.
What hurt the most from that interview last night was Ladybug's words towards her, both as Rena Rouge and as Alya. Surely the heroine had to be mistaken, she had never beytrayed Ladybug! And that Oblivio incident, it was just to show Chat Noir and Ladybug that they were meant to be together!
Her family was upset with her. No, upset was too tame of a word. They were pissed.
"I can't believe she lied to us.."
"Well what do you expect from someone who keeps harrassing Ladybug?"
Alya flinched when she heard the whispers and rushed into Miss Buster's class. The entire class was there, all seated, all looking utterly miserable. Many of them looked as if they had been crying all night. A lot like she had.
"W-where's Miss Bustier?" Alya asked when she eyed the empty desk. Many of her classmates shot her glares, but didn't say anything about the interview last night. After all, they had no room to talk.
"She and Principal Damocles are with the school board now. We're getting a new teacher." Adrien was the one that spoke up. He looked utterly miserable. So unlike his usual self.
"Lila isn't coming back. She was pulled from school when her mother found out what happened." Alix muttered from her seat, arms crossed and shoulders hunched.
The class went quiet as they all internally contemplated how things had gotten like this. Their eyes focused on the door when it abruptly opened and Marinette came strolling in, carrying a box.
"Good morning everyone!" She said brightly, pretending not to notice the downcast expressions on their faces. She set the box on the teacher's desk before she turned towards them. "Oh? What's wrong everyone?"
".. Did you not watch the interview with Ladybug on 'Latest Buzz'?" Alya stared at Marinette, a bit dumbfounded by her friend's lack of awareness of the situation. She had been expecting Marinette to rush in with support and a fiery vengeance against those who had humiliated her best friend, maybe even a fresh pastry. But instead she was greeted with empty hands and a cheerful hello?
"Oh, well I haven't really had the time to watch much television. I mean, with my transfer papers, needing to plan out my new schedule with all of those new classes. Busy as a bee, that's me!" Marinette just beamed, giving Adrien a playful wink that had his stomach churning.
"Wait, transfering?" It was Rose that spoke up, her large eyes seeming impossibly large now. "Transfer what?"
"To my new school, of course." Marinette giggled and clasped her hands together. "I start on Monday."
"New school?!" Alya was on her feet and rushing towards Marinette. The others quickly followed, crowding around her. "What do you mean new school?! When did you ever say you were going to a new school?"
Marinette blinked, as if stunned, then tilted her head ever so slightly.
"I told you all last week, don't you remember?" Marinette tapped her lower lip, seeming to be wracking her brain before she abruptly snapped her fingers. "Oh! I forgot, you all were deep in conversation with Lila about her upcoming event with Jagged Stone and Clara Nightengale. You know, the one she said she'd be attending with Ladybug, since they're such good friends. Did she ever say how it went?"
All of the students shifted uneasily, suddenly seeming to refuse to meet her face.
Alix murmured something so barely audible, Marinette held a hand to her ear and leaned closer.
"I'm sorry, what was that?"
"Lila was lying to us!" Alix snapped as her cheeks went a flaming red.
"About everything! She never knew Jagged Stone!" Juleka spat out in fury.
"Or Prince Ali!" Rose sniffled.
"And she wasn't friends with Ladybug? They were barely acquaintances!" Alya wailed out as tears welled up in her eyes.
But Marinette hardly reacted the way they were expecting. She just gave them a small smile and nodded.
"Oh, yeah. I know."
Alya sucked in a breath sharply.
"You knew..? But why did you never..?"
"Oh Alya, you silly forgetful thing. I told you the day she returned from her long 'trip', remember? I told you she was lying." Marinette gave Alya a smile that said 'oh you silly thing'. "But you told me that I should really check my sources. And I got tired of trying to bring up any lies, since that was always your response. So I decided to just stop. I mean, since you're such an inspiring, honest journalist you must double and triple check every source you come across and found every story to be true!"
Alya flinched and looked away, feeling the churning feeling in her gut again. No, the Ladyblog had been the only source for the stories. The. Only. One.
"And I'm sure all of you knew what you were doing! I mean, it makes sense; trusting the words of a complete stranger over someone you've known for a while now. Some of you since we were in diapers!" She focused her gaze on Nino and Kim, who had the grace to at least look ashamed.
"Marinette, you really should-" Adrien began, reaching out for the girl, but was cut off by her clapping her hands together.
"But it's alright! I decided that fighting with you all wasn't worth it, so I took Adrien's advice and took the high road! Don't bother exposing Lila, she isn't hurting anyone!" Marinette announced brightly, giving her hands a little wave.
The temperature in the classroom dropped by several degrees.
".. Adrien, she's kidding, right?" Nino glanced over at his friend, his eyes pleading for him to deny it all. But the sight of the blood draining from the model's face and the sweat starting to bead at his forehead told him everything he needed to know. "Dude.."
"How could you?! You knew this entire time and didn't even try to tell me?!" Alya rounded on Adrien, fury in her eyes.
"Now, now, don't get mad at Adrien. I'm sure he knew you all were going to do you research. Besides, it's not like this did anything bad for anyone." Marinette pressed a hand to her cheek, still grinning. "I mean, it's not like you all took her advice without doing any research. You didn't try the things she suggested without actually checking them out to be true, right? No one lost any scholarships or job opportunities. No one's relationships were ruined. No one was hurt."
The nauseous feeling spread to all of the class as the reality of everything caught up with them.
"I'm sure everything will go back to normal, right? I mean, I'm sure that that woman from the education bureau isn't here to fire Damocles and Bustier for their severe neglect in their duties. Expelling me with the most mediocre and shaky proof. Surely that's a school I should feel safe in! That I should be proud to be a part of. But alas, my preparations for my new school are already done, so oh well."
Marinette shrugged and adjusted her purse strap.
"Anyhow, I wish you all luck with the amazing things Lila has helped you to do! I know it must have been worth ignoring me and convincing me I was crazy. With all of the free time I've had, with you guys practically replacing me with Lila in the group, I've had tons of time to spend with my boyfriend."
"Boyfriend?!" Alya's eyes went owlishly wide as she gaped at Marinette. "But what about Adrien?!"
"Oh Alya, I fell out of love with Adrien forever ago." Marinette shook her head in an almost patronizing way that had Alya's cheeks burning with embarrassment. They didn't even pay attention to Adrien's noises of surprise. "I mean, you claimed I was jealous of Lila getting close to Adrien, that I should let the jealousy go. And you know what? You were right! So I decided Adrien wasn't worth the stress, the embarrassment.. I mean, I couldn't even talk to him straight. I thought he was the most perfect guy in the world! Goodness, did I learn my lesson!"
She giggled as if she found the entire thing amusing. She then beamed at the class.
"Well, ta-ta! I need to get back home and make sure everything is ready to go. I wish you all the best, I really do!"
They all watched, shellshocked as Marinette breezed out of the classroom like it was nothing. Like she wasn't leaving her friends, her school, her life behind. And they all would wonder exactly how badly they screwed up, if she could walk away do easily, without a care.
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BnHA Chapter 325: Deku VS the Outside of U.A. ~Conclusion~
Previously on BnHA: Ochako was all “dear bloodthirsty mob, this kid you see standing before you has fought harder than anyone and put his life on the line to protect you all, so please chill the fuck out, jesus christ. like, putting aside that he’s humanity’s best hope and so it’s very much in your best interests to let him rest and recover someplace safe so that he can keep fighting for us, are y’all seriously going to turn away an injured and exhausted child in front of his sobbing mother?? seriously?? come on now.” I’m paraphrasing here but that’s basically how it went down. Anyway so then the mob was all, “...” and Deku collapsed to his knees in tears, and Gigantic Fox Lady and Kouta ran over to give him a hug but then the chapter ended.
Today on BnHA: Horikoshi is all “FINE, YOU CAN HUG HIM”, which, was that so hard?? The U.A. Clown Mob is all “come to think of it, we’ve kind of been taking the heroes for granted this entire time, maybe we should be less passive in the future. anyway so Deku if it’s not too much to ask, can you please save everyone and fix everything.” Deku is all “I sure can, and by the way I forgive you for swarming around all menacingly two minutes ago and trying to deny me basic shelter and stuff.” Ectoplasm is all, “hey Todogang get a load of this. [walks in a circle].” Hawks is all, “that’s literally the greatest thing I’ve ever seen.” Rat Principal is all, “anyway so that’s what your students did today, hope you’re enjoying your new *~*ROBOT LEG*~*, Aizawa.” Aizawa is all “[lots of exposition about Kurogiri and for some reason, Toga, while being all brooding and sexy].” All Might is all “[standing here right outside of U.A. doing absolutely nothing and being foreboding AF]” and that immediately sucked away all of the warm fuzzy feelings from the hugs, goddammit.
each new week has become a waiting game of “when will Deku finally get to take a bath so people will actually be willing to go near him and give him the hugs he deserves.” the stakes have never been so compelling. I’ve almost forgotten about AFO entirely
lmaoooooo
me: for the love of god will someone please give Deku a hug before I die of old age
Mineta: YOU GOT IT!! --
Iida: [SWIFTLY CUTS HIM OFF] NOT YOU
fucking losing it at Mineta’s crying face. he really wanted to hug him. I legit feel bad but this is also the funniest thing I have seen all week, omg
somehow Kouta, who last week was only a hand’s breadth away from touching Deku’s head, is now twenty miles away from him in this new chapter
can I make a Loki reference here. is this recap a good place to insert a joke about someone using a TVA time-rewinding device to fuck with my poor boy Kouta over here. well anyway there it is
AND NOW HE’S BACK ALL OF A SUDDEN OMG
(ETA: since when is he “niichan” omg?? can’t handle this cuteness.)
BUT THEY’RE STILL NOT HUGGING HIM FFFFKFFFFF. WHAT DO I HAVE TO DO. WHO DO I HAVE TO BRIBE AND/OR BLACKMAIL
OH NO KOUTA IS CRYING THAT’S IT I’M DONE FOR
“when I heard that lady I knew that I had to go, but then stop again within inches of actually touching you because you smell like week-old rotten onions.” listen Kouta, I’m not saying I don’t get it, but you all can’t keep doing this to me. it’s the way you guys keep teasing it. like, if you’re gonna hug him, hug him. don’t just stand there with your arms held rigidly out in front of you like a molded action figure
OH MY GOSH BUT HE SAID THE THING
KOUTA SWOOPING IN AT THE LAST MINUTE TO TAKE ALL THE CREDIT FOR FIXING DEKU LIKE THAT ONE KID IN THE GROUP PROJECT WHO DOES ABSOLUTELY NOTHING BUT STILL TAGS HIS NAME ONTO THE REPORT ANYWAY, WHAT A KNAVE
GASP
( ´͈ ᗨ `͈ )
SHE PICKED HIM UP LIKE A LITTLE BABY OMG?? she just leaned right over and lifted this child like he was a small animal. like a lil baby futon that she was about to hang up to dry. oh my god
-- HEY WHAT
(: well that’s extremely fucked up. though sadly not too surprising given what we just saw these past couple chapters
incidentally, I hope that anyone who was legitimately defending the civilians’ perspective earlier takes note here of how quickly that line of thinking -- “we’re just trying to keep our families safe” and all that-- can lead to straight up bigotry. if you’re willing to deny a child shelter and protection simply because he’s not YOUR child, and because you’ve decided based on Internet rumors (no real-world parallels there, I’m sure) that he might present a threat, it’s really not that much further of a leap to discriminating against entire groups of people simply because you perceive those groups as being dangerous. I’m sure the people who turned Gigantic Fox Lady away also told themselves afterwards that they did it to protect their families. “better safe than sorry.” “she’ll be fine, someone will take her in, but as for us, we can’t afford to take that risk.” people can come up with all kinds of justifications for treating other people as less than human, and the really scary thing about it is how fucking easy it is
one last quick side note, which is that Horikoshi does a great job here of showing how scapegoating works, given that AFO is the one who’s really to blame and who presents the actual threat, and yet Deku is the one who ultimately winds up being the target of the mob’s fear and outrage despite him being as much of a victim as they are. gotta love that irony, which unfortunately plays out far too often in the real world as well.
anyway I’ll get off my soapbox now, sorry about that. let us continue
YES, FINALLY OH MY GOD!!!!
AND THAT’S THE STORY OF HOW GIGANTIC FOX LADY BECAME THE GREATEST HERO. PACK IT ALL UP, WE’RE DONE HERE KIDS
holy shit. the real MVP right there. thanks for getting it done champ
jesus christ I have had it up to here with these people
literally the bar is set so low at this point that I’ll go ahead and take it. helping him because it offers them a tactical advantage is at least one step up from not helping him at all
“WHY NOT SHIKETSU” MOTHERFUCKER I SWEAR TO GOD
-- thank you!!
okay this one guy with the antennae hair is having himself a character development speedrun here
-- okay, but this part?? fucking this part, right here??
can we repeat that again?? the part where this guy acknowledges that the problems of hero society were caused not just by said heroes, but also by said society?? the part where he acknowledges that they treated the heroes like celebrities who were putting on a show for them?? the part where he acknowledges that when push came to shove, the vast majority of those heroes, when faced with a situation that offered no reward, were nonetheless willing to put their lives on the line to protect the very same people who then turned around and blamed them rather than thanking them?? are the civilians of BnHA even allowed to have actual deep thoughts about this stuff. holy shit
bro!!
ANTENNAE HAIR GUY SHOVING KOUTA AND GIGANTIC FOX LADY OUT OF THE WAY TO SLAP HIS NAME ONTO THE END CREDITS AS EXECUTIVE PRODUCER. CONGRATULATIONS SON YOU FIGURED OUT THE CORE PHILOSOPHICAL QUESTION AT THE VERY HEART OF THE MANGA. WAY TO GO BUD
meanwhile, on today’s episode of “one more chapter to go till the big volume cliffhanger, how else can I drag things out let’s see”
it’s a panel. of people’s feet. just a bunch of normal feet. with sneakers and shit
this All Might shirt guy is getting more screentime in this arc than 90% of the class 1-A kids
I guess I’m supposed to feel sorry for this dude now that he’s all “if we let you stay here do you promise to somehow magically fix every single problem that we are now currently facing?” those are some ridiculously exacting standards my dude. come on now
KACCHAN SIGHTING
thank fuck I’m not the only one who’s thoroughly unimpressed by absolutely all of this lol. I feel better now. meanwhile Iida and Kouda and Kiri are ready to run over there and hug them all. you guys are way too forgiving. damn you and your pure hearts
anyway so Deku’s like “yeah, definitely”
(ETA: almost forgot to comment on the “I’m no longer alone” part – he basically corrects the guy and says “sorry, but you’ll need to direct that question towards all of us, not just me, because moving forward we’re a team.” good stuff.)
you know what though, all joking aside... fuck yeah. because perfect victory, right. the strongest guys don’t settle for anything less. so I guess Deku has pretty exacting standards himself
also can you all just take a look at this fucking kid who’s got so much light in his eyes now that I’m gonna need eclipse goggles. hot damn. “you’re welcome” says All Might Shirt Guy as he is frantically interviewed by several local news networks asking him how he daringly managed to save Deku all by himself. “well I guess I’ve just never been the kind of guy who can sit back and let a bunch of rabble-rousers blame a little kid for all of humanity’s problems. someone had to step in and take action, you know?”
oH MY GOD THE SCENE IS FINALLY ENDING
don’t let the door hit you on your way out All Might Shirt Guy
but meanwhile, sudden Tododrama action??
oh shit
there are honestly so many ways in which Ochako’s very moving speech could have wildly backfired that I genuinely have no clue where this is headed lol. how exciting!!
so now Horikoshi is once again stalling for time with random filler panels, but this one is 10x better than the shoes lol omg
(1) was Ectoplasm’s jacket always this oversized. (2) did you guys know that if you go back to chapter 319 you can see that Horikoshi gave us a sneak peak at Enji’s Sad Detective disguise and I in fact made a joke about it in the 319 recap not realizing it was actually the stone cold truth. (3) did Shouto deliberately speed up out of impatience because Hawks was walking so fucking slow and he couldn’t take it any longer. (4) and what, I ask you, is up with these dramatic speedlines. so many mysteries here. what a masterpiece
everyone is acting all shocked about something ahh what’s going on
wait what
what the heck. did they just loop around behind everyone. what was the point of that lol. “anyway, so this is what they look like from the back” well okay, thanks for that Ectoplasm
(ETA: so it seems like they were actually hanging out someplace else away from the crowd this whole time, I guess? here I thought they had more faith in Enji’s disguise. I guess Shouto and Hawks don’t particularly want to attract this crowd’s attention themselves right now either, though.)
I am so fucking confused lmao
speaking of All Might WHERE THE FUCK IS HE lol. but yes, good, OFA brings everyone together, and Hawks is very deeply moved about this out of the blue all of a sudden. you know how it is
aw heck yeah now this is another filler panel I can get behind
Mineta really wants that hug, good lord. I genuinely love this actually. Mineta if you could just stay little and cute and keep crying about how much you love your classmates in a non-gross way for the rest of the series I would be so appreciative. you’re doing great
IIDA IS HOLDING DEKU’S HAND THIS IS NOT A DRILL. ONE TIME WASN’T ENOUGH FOR MY MAN HE’S ADDICTED NOW
what did I tell you. Kiri wants to get all of the mob’s autographs now. Kiri you’re a peach
Shouji having a conversation with another mutant type is a very nice touch! we really need to get to his backstory soon. I feel like that casual remark from GFL earlier was kind of hinting at more to come
is this the first time we’ve ever seen the Yaoyorictionary in action?? never forget that Viz tried to call it the “Yaoyorozu Reference Book” because they hate fun
last but not least, KAMIBAKU IS BACK ON THE MENU, FUCK YEAH. Kaminari trying to spice things up and introduce a little bit of controversy by smacking Kacchan on the back of the head for god knows what. I will be deeply disappointed after this if I can’t find at least one person unironically declaring that KamiBaku is now toxic and abusive
lfkdlWLWK TODODRAMA??
oh my god. Shouto’s face. Enji’s face. the back to “oyaji” again. the blunt, not-taking-no-for-an-answer, “I don’t know how much louder the universe can scream at you that doing things alone is not it, so hopefully you got the point” directness of it. fffdlkslj I’m so ready for this Horikoshi please don’t fuck it up my expectations are so high
HOLY FUCK
I SCROLLED DOWN AND HE WAS ALL “( ❛‿❛)” AND I JUST WASN’T FUCKING EXPECTING THAT OKAY. JESUS CHRIST. GIVE ME A SEC
lol okay moment over and now Enji’s pulling his hat down all dramatically like a world-weary Cowboy
OH MY GOD WERE YOU FACETIMING??
AHHHHHHHHH
(ETA: not to put Iida down or anything, but it’s kind of strange that Aizawa is all “the class rep sure did great” when Ochako is the one that was giving that whole big speech for like twenty minutes just now lol.)
(ETA 2: “thank god Iida stepped in just in the nick of time to keep Mineta from hugging Deku.” sorry Mineta I really do like you lately but it’s still low-hanging fruit lol.)
HE LOOKS SO SAD??! HE LOOKS LIKE HEARTBREAK ITSELF??! I AM BESOUGHT WITH THE URGE TO REACH INTO MY SCREEN AND PULL HIM INTO THE SAFETY OF MY ARMS??? MY GOD, AND I THOUGHT DEKU NEEDED HUGS
AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH okay I was gonna just hold down the letter H for a full minute and count it out loud but within about ten seconds I realized I needed to chill lol
-- but then again NO, I DON’T NEED TO CHILL, I HAVE ZERO CHILL, ACTUALLY, BECAUSE IT’S AIZAWA WITH A ROBOT LEG AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
COMPLETE WITH ROBOT TOES FOR THAT EXTRA TOUCH OF AUTHENTICITY!! I LIKE HOW HORIKOSHI PUT ALL THIS EXTRA “!!!” EMPHASIS AROUND IT IN CASE WE COULD SOMEHOW POSSIBLY FAIL TO TAKE NOTICE. “REMEMBER, EVERYONE?” SAYS HORIKOSHI HELPFULLY. “REMEMBER THAT TIME AIZAWA CHOPPED OFF HIS OWN LEG?” oh wow now that you mention it we somehow forgot all about that. like who do you take us for
OH NO NOT THE SAD BOYFRIEND ANGST THAT I WAS SECRETLY LOOKING FORWARD TO WITH GLEE
well at least he’s not M.I.A. or back with the villains again like I thought he might be. still, that’s gotta be brutal to know your friend is in there somewhere, but to not be able to reach him again no matter how hard you try. that’s the kind of angst that pays off in final battles just when you most expect it. such is my hope, at any rate
what’s this now??
trying to decide if this is Horikoshi’s way of saying don’t worry about that, or his way of saying definitely worry about that lol
anyway so Aizawa is out here being all irresponsibly handsome once again. when is someone going to do something about him
here for Sexy Robot Leg Eyepatch Aizawa clenching his fists and making speeches about revenge. pretty sure we’re all here for that
WELL, WELL, WELL
IT’S ABOUT FUCKING TIME
I’M VERY GLAD YOU’RE ALIVE AND SEEMINGLY WELL, THOUGH!
BUT WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK THOUGH, ALL MIGHT
ffff. bracing myself for that cliffhanger next week. you’d better not touch one hair on this man’s head Horikoshi. I’m watching you
#bnha 325#midoriya izuku#u.a. clown mob#class 1-a#aizawa shouta#bnha#boku no hero academia#bnha spoilers#mha spoilers#bnha manga spoilers#makeste reads bnha
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‘infinity war cast play: family feud
ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ ➢ following along the family feud that the cast of the avengers played during infinity war
ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ ➢ 1.8k
ᴅɪꜱᴄʟᴀɪᴍᴇʀꜱ ➢ fluff, sweet/jealous seb, funny marvel moments in general
ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ ꜱᴘᴇᴀᴋꜱ ➢ wanted to start this idea but never got to write it, hope it gets love since it was fun to write and i just enjoyed it in general
every time you and the cast would wrap up a movie was great because it meant you guys would have interviews and press tours to attend. for you, the games and trivia games were the ones you all really enjoyed because it just would be chaotic.
still it would a great time, you got along with everyone so no drama would surround you guys which was a good thing when you work with other actors. when you first started working with marvel, you hit it off with mackie at first, during captain america: the winter soldier.
your publicist makes sure you had time to move things around so that you could make it the live event with the rest of the cast.
you and sebastian were together but didn’t live with each other since you two were still waiting for the right time to move in together. anthony would tease you guys, saying you’re both married but not being committed. all jokes aside, you two did love each other but time would take it’s course and you would be happy soon enough.
when you arrived surrounding to the Los Angeles press junket, you met a few co-stars back stage. obviously you saw all the girls—with you adored. when you saw your boyfriend, you ran sneakily behind him before scaring him slightly. he jumped back from his seat where he was talking to anthony and letitia about something.
anthony looked up seeing your face, “you finally showed up. he was getting worried.” he chuckled before getting up to hug you while you hugged back letting go to see letitia and greet her as well. you turned to sebastian seeing that he was wearing something remotely similar to your outfit.
he wore a black and white stripped jacket which you wore one like that but it was a tad different with a matching skirt. he eyes you up and down seeing what you were wearing this time, letitia gawked at the couple matching even if it was accidentally. “you guys look so cute.” she squealed rapidly pointing at both of them as they both chuckled.
anthony hummed, “huh. what’s up with matchy matchy?” he questioned them as sebastian shrugged honestly not getting how they would of done that. the man obviously thought she looked gorgeous in that skirt and jacket so it didn’t bother him at all. “i think you look beautiful.” he admired you as you blushed and buried your head in his crock of his neck while thanking him.
anthony rolled his eyes until the russo brothers came telling everyone that it was time to start the family feud game and start the live broadcast. you walked towards everyone, where the russo brothers went to place you all in teams: blue vs purple.
anthony and joe did anything to keep mackie and seb from the opposite teams to not create that much chaos or to create it which didn’t matter. you went on the blue team with chris, scarlett, letitia, anthony and bautista. then the red team consisting with benedict, zoe, mark, chris hemsworth, pom and sebastian.
you greeted your team waiting for them to start as you made small talk with anthony and dave as you were in the middle of both of them. once the russo’s started—it was all chaotic from that point. “why don’t the blue team introduce themselves.” joe spoke looking at the blue team.
everyone from the team would get and when it got you mackie, he just was being a fool but so hilarious whenever he spoke. “i’m anthony mackie, i’m a libra.” bringing up his sign for anyone. “I’m y/n y/l/n.” you would smile when it would get to you.
the other team would do the same, then making the russo’s to explain how the game would work and all the rules. once you all got the hang of it, chris and zoe ended up being the first ones to make it and compete against each other. “which infinity war character would put on the best concert?”
zoe getting it first because pratt was slow, said his character which she got right being the first one on the answer board. benedict would repeat zoe’s answer not understanding the concept of family feud as the whole blue team would tease him on that. “good answer!” anthony laughed making you look up and chuckle as he defended himself.
“i’m english! whoa, stop.” joe explained it the english man and he looked relieved after he got the idea, getting the right answer again. when it got to sebastian he said dr. strange and got it correct then getting close to three strikes when it was at zoe.
the russo’s giving out clues and hints didn’t make the blue team wasn’t pleased because it was too easy for them. “what! you cheatin, you think steve harvey would give a hint?” chris would yell out to joe then you would agree with him. them all laughing at chris getting annoyed but not in a serious manner.
you would see that they would go and talk and you stopped them as they weren’t exactly playing the right way. “wait? you guys can’t confirm.” you spoke up pointing at zoe trying to talk to pom and the rest of her team. joe would confirm that, that would be true.
zoe trying to get another clue but the blue team interfering with her telling her no more clues. “okay, you know what. basta. i’m going to say rocket.” when her and benedict got them wrong it would be time for the blue team to steal.
chris would pull you guys together to confirm he answer but mackie kept repeating where their clue was—you would remind him that you thought that was the clue. “what? no, that’s their clue! who producing this?” you would look over to see them talking about who to pick. “well if it’s a guardian... then who did we already say? we said drax, already said star lord, we said rocket. so groot?” you implied.
letitia nodded when chris still wasn’t sure if that was the answer looking at the camera trying to get an answer from the fans. “feed me the answer. mackie says it groot but i don’t trust mackie—yes, you do!” mackie would say.
“i say trust him—thank you!” you would say making anthony hugging you when sebastian would glare at him making him laugh out loud looking back at him. letting go and telling joe that, they picked groot for the answer. “do they say groot for the win?” joe asked making the board ding causing the blue team to cheer for the win that they just got.
the next question being who would they take to prom... as letitia would take your answer, you’d have to figure on out when make chose his answer. “as much as i don’t like him. and his great hair.. uh bucky.” anthony paused. obviously getting the right answer and it being number one. anthony would look at sebastian but he would shake his head getting flustered.
it was your turn and you couldn’t say anything because you honestly had no idea, “alright y/n, you are up.” you hummed trying to see if you could think of someone on the spot. “look around.” they would try to help you to get a answer, anthony looking at you grinning.
“come on. imma look away cause you’re thinkin about me.” he would say looking the other way dramatically making you laugh then patting his shoulder clicking your tongue. “okay, i’m going to say uh... the falcon, sam wilson?” anthony grinning at you tilting his head while showing his bicep.
sebastians head rapidly going up when she chose anthony, “boo!” he booed putting a thumbs down and blowing raspberries at her direction. everyone laughing at his jealousy as you frowned feeling bad, “i’m sorry!” you quietly said as joe kept moving on. “alright facebook did you say sam wilson?” he asked the board and it dinged making anthony cheer at his name on the list.
almost finishing the questions, it was between mackie and hemsworth picking who would win in a staring contest. going around the purple team, they all started to get all the answer right and it went to seb. he looked around stoping at you and just staring, “i’m going with y/c/n.” you shook your head then waiting to see the answer. “did you say y/c/n, the sorceress?” he got that right making them all cheer.
they all go in a line getting all the answers right when seb was up again, “don’t screw it up bucky like you always do.” anthony yelled out making him stare up at him intensely, “what did you say to me—you heard what i said.” they kept going back and forth with each other.
you kept trying to contain yourself from laughing as they were so childish between themselves. “i’m gonna go with the falcon.” sebastian said staring at him continuously. when it came on the screen, you put your head down in disbelief.
the next round was you and sebastian and when you didn’t go up because you didn’t know it was your turn, joe told you to go up. you looked at him and walked to him. you put your hands in your pockets, seeing seb waiting for you. “oh oh. this is about to become intense, girlfriend vs boyfriend.” joe teased when you smiled and put you hand over seb’s.
you pulled away getting ready to answer your question and you probably knew it would work out because you hated being pressured. anthony russo looked at both of you and mentioned how you guys were matching, “you guys are matching, just noticed that—isn’t it cute!” letitia yelled but getting shushed by you.
“okay, which infinity war character takes the longest to get ready in the morning?” when he announced it you did your best to press the button by sebastian had quicker reflexes then you. you groaned watching him chuckle, “i swear my button is broken.” you complained but it was all jokes because you just lost.
“i think it works—mmh, no it’s broken. hurry say your answer.” you rolled your eyes wanting to hurry and leave, “downey. tony stark.” when the answer popped up you rolled your eyes, swatting your hand away. seb went over to hug you as you sighed but hugged him back anyway.
the ending was horrible because the opposite team won making you annoyed... you ended up having a good time with your friends. you walked passed all of them to use the bathroom and you went to open the door, you were tackled by some hands making you squeal.
you turned around to see sebastian and you sighed then when you composed yourself, you hit his shoulder. “don’t do that. i was about to hurt you.” he chuckled lowering his hands to your waist and pulling you close. “i missed you.” he mumbled kissing the side of your cheek. “we have to hurry for the press, then you can miss me even more.”
#sebastian stan#sebastian stan imagine#sebastian stan x reader#seb stan#sebastian stan x you#marvel#marvel cast#anthony mackie#sebastian stan x y/n#sebastian stan fic#mcu fanfiction
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Tempting
Fandom: Criminal Minds Pairing: Aaron Hotchner/Latina OFC Sophie Cortes Word Count: 2,392 Tags: 16+, Mature SFW, Pre-relationship, Fantasizing, Accidentally turned on, Mentions of sex Summary: Aaron and Sophie both find themselves... tempted. Collection: Sophie Cortes timeline, 7-12 Months at the BAU (See Masterlist for reading order) Link to AO3 or read below! “Hey, just wanted to hand off my profiles,” Sophie says as she peeks her head into Hotch’s office Wednesday night. “Any idea when the department will catch up to the 21st century and let us do these on the computer?” she asks playfully, and he smiles, rolls his eyes a bit.
“It’s not the department that makes us do these on paper, it’s me. Morgan has been trying to get me to switch to digital, says Garcia can make us a user-friendly system in her sleep.” She crosses her arms, leaning a hip against the doorframe.
“And you’re resistant because…?”
“Honestly, I don’t know. Maybe it’s nostalgia, or because I hate change.”
“As long as it's not because you’ll miss seeing my smiling face at the end of the day, turning in my files,” she says, and though it’s obvious she’s teasing, that kind of is part of the answer.
He doesn’t want to be just a figure in his office, silently collecting completed case files with a ping of his computer. He knows they know his door is always open, but it’s sometimes the excuse of turning in their work that leads them there, gets them in the door, and he thinks it’s important to maintain.
“All joking aside, I think it could really benefit the team. If you wanted a beta tester, I’d be happy to try it out; we can get together once a week for a couple weeks to discuss any bugs or issues we find with the system. The others don’t even need to know; I could do my regular cases during the day, stay later once or twice a week and work them on the computer. I don’t mind the overtime, I’ve got nothing going on.”
“You should go enjoy your life, not spend extra hours holding my hand because I’m resistant to change.”
“I want to, though, if it will help. And I said I don’t mind the overtime.” They stare each other down for a moment; he is the first to cave, sighing and pushing a hand through his hair.
“I’ll talk to Garcia, see if she has capacity to work on the program this week.” Her answering smile is almost blinding, and he feels warmth spread in his chest; he's been feeling that a lot lately, always where Sophie is concerned, but especially when she smiles. “Hey, while I’ve got you, do you mind looking at a case with me? I can’t help feeling that I’m missing something.”
“Sure, of course.” She walks fully into his office, around the desk so she’s looking over his shoulder at the open file. Her hair falls in cascading waves around her face before she gets a chance to tuck a few strands behind her ear, and the smell of her shampoo is... tempting, to say the least.
It’s coconut, and jasmine, maybe, a light, tropical scent that makes him think of palm trees, fresh pineapple, warm sand under his feet… Sophie in a bikini, a tiny thing that shows off her every curve… Sophie curled up next to him in a private cabana, laughing softly in the moonlight… Sophie on a soft bed in a hotel room, her bare skin, even darker from sunbathing, a beautiful contrast to crisp white sheets…
“Have you considered that the second unsub could be a woman? That would explain how the victims are being lured from the mall—a woman probably wouldn’t stop in a parking garage at night for a man, but she would for another woman, if she’s in trouble.” She turns to look at him, and he’s shaken from his fantasy abruptly.
“No, uh, I hadn’t considered that. That closes the gap in my profile. Good thinking.”
“That’s why you keep me around, isn’t it?” He earns another, softer smile, and he thinks about leaning in to kiss her, how easy that would be. It doesn’t take long to shake that thought away, because it’s almost literally insane, but he can’t deny that he had it.
“Something like that. Are you headed home?” She stands fully, and he’s glad, because that means the temptation is gone. It’s not her fault in any way, all his, but he can’t deny it gets worse the closer she is.
“Not home; the girls and I are meeting around the corner for a drink. Will you be finishing up soon?”
“Probably not, but it’s alright. I have nothing going on,” he says, repeating her turn of phrase. He looks down at his work, and she sighs lightly.
“You could have something going on. Come out for a drink with me.”
“And crash your meeting with the girls?” He’s not entirely certain he’d be welcome, or comfortable, but she makes it sound so easy. Like it’s something he could just decide to do, if he wanted.
“Trust me, they won’t mind.”
“It’s a nice offer, thank you. Maybe another time.” She rests a hand on his desk, on top of his case file so he can’t finish filling out the consultation paperwork, and he has to look up and make eye contact with her, which he’s sure is by design. She’s too good at reading him, sometimes. “Definitely another time. I really do appreciate the offer.”
“I’m gonna hold you to it, Hotch. You need a life outside of this place.” She lifts her hand from the desk, places it briefly on his shoulder, and then heads for the door. “Have a good night.”
“You too,” he sighs at her retreating back. His feelings seem to be getting a little too hard to ignore. Their next case doesn’t come until the beginning of the next week. Sophie goes with Hotch to interview a victim’s mother in hopes that they can find the woman who is currently missing before the unsub kills her, but they come up with nothing, which is all they’ve come up with all day.
It’s clear Hotch is not pleased with their progress. He stands outside the car for a moment, looking like he’s trying to compose himself, and he takes off his jacket and throws it in the back seat.
“Damn it,” he hisses when they get back into the car, slamming his hands against the steering wheel; he scrubs a hand through his hair, unbuttons his cuffs, and rolls up his shirt sleeves a bit more angrily than seems strictly necessary. Sophie can’t keep her eyes off of his hands as he pushes the fabric up over his forearms—baring firm muscles covered in thick, dark hair—and when he throws the car into reverse and turns his head, placing his palm on the back of her headrest while he looks behind them, it gets her a little… hot.
It’s nothing new, of course. She has been feeling certain things, where Hotch is concerned—some emotional things, some physical things—for a little while now, if she’s being honest with herself. And she’s usually got the presence of mind to ignore it, or force it to the back of her thoughts, but he caught her off guard and she’s spiraling, now, imagining his hands on either side of her head, on her throat, holding open her thighs. His hands are close all the time, and visible, and the thought of reaching out to touch them is just so… tempting.
She must be making an oh, shit face, because his eyes become more inquisitive, his features a little softer. “What’s wrong?” She’s breathing heavily, and her cheeks feel warm, so she probably looks insane; she just shakes her head and exhales lightly, tries to calm herself.
“Nothing, it’s nothing.” He looks like he absolutely does not believe her, and she curses herself for the hundredth time for choosing to work around a bunch of profilers; they’re always thinking, analyzing, squinting their eyes at you and trying to figure you out, and it can get really irritating.
“I shouldn’t have reacted like that. I’m sorry if I upset you,” he says when he’s done squinting. She almost wants to laugh: he’s worried about upsetting her over a minor curse word while she’s literally hot under the collar for him; her chest feels like it’s on fire, always quick to flush when she’s aroused, and she’s thanking the gods that she chose a crew neck t-shirt today and not a v-neck, or the situation would probably be a lot more awkward.
“You didn’t upset me, Hotch, it’s okay,” she insists, and he breaks eye contact to focus on the road.
They ride in silence the rest of the way to the precinct, but he doesn’t move to exit the vehicle after he takes the keys out of the ignition. “I’m sorry again for my outburst. I shouldn’t have reacted that way, at least not with you in the car.” She sits back in her seat, because this is now about more than her embarrassing moment from before.
“You’re allowed to be human, you know,” she tells him, and when it looks like he’s about to argue, she shakes her head. “I know the bureau likes to discourage it, but being in tune with our emotions and other people’s emotions is what makes us the best at what we do. Don’t apologize for the things you feel.”
“I have to lead by example. It’s the best way to set clear expectations.”
“Telling us your expectations is the best way to set clear expectations. You don’t have to pretend to be emotionless. When you’re angry, be angry.” He frowns, looks at her like what she’s saying makes absolutely no sense.
“When I got angry just now, you were looking at me like you were seeing something about me for the first time. Like you were afraid of me.”
“I wasn’t afraid of you, it’s… it’s nothing. I’d really rather not get into it.” His face softens again, and he’s giving her a look that’s usually reserved for families of victims, which throws her off guard.
“I know that victims of abuse can sometimes have a negative reaction to shouting…”
She wants to groan. He’s being so kind, but if he doesn’t let this go...
“I’m not a victim of abuse, and you didn’t scare me.” He still looks guilty, and if that’s what he thinks happened, and that’s how she made him feel? Well she’s gotta come clean sooner than later. She takes a deep breath. “You turned me on, okay? You were angry, and you rolled up your sleeves, and then you put your hand on the back of my seat and it just… affected me. I can’t believe I’m saying this,” she mutters, covering her face with her hand. Hotch processes that, is still processing that when she removes her fingers from her face. He just looks at her, expression carefully blank.
“Oh. Uh, well. It’s natural; nothing you could have done about it.” She sighs at that, runs a hand through her hair.
“I know, I’m not ashamed of being aroused, or anything, but—we’re working, you’re my boss. The situation is awkward.” He looks at the steering wheel, like he can’t say what he’s going to say directly to her.
“You shouldn’t feel awkward. This kind of thing happens to all of us.” She arches her brow, smiles a little incredulously.
“You’re telling me you, Aaron Hotchner, have been inappropriately turned on on the job before?” He shrugs, nodding.
“Sure, yes.” Her brows rise further into her hairline, not believing him for a second; he sighs at her expression and shakes his head, huffing a laugh. “Okay. You were in my office last week, leaning over my shoulder to look at a case file, and I could smell your shampoo. It’s coconut, right?” She nods, not sure exactly where the story is going, but she feels herself getting hot again, against literally her every wish. “Well, it made me daydream of the vacation I so desperately want: a drink in my hand, sun on my skin, sand beneath my feet… making love late at night with a breeze blowing through the open patio door.”
“Oh.” Her heart is racing, beating so hard she’s almost surprised the sound doesn’t give her away, and her breathing is heavy, and she thinks he’s about to speak again when someone taps on his window abruptly. He rolls it down and Gideon sticks his head in.
“There’s another body, 482 West Hemlock; you two might as well stay in the car and meet us there.”
“Will do,” Hotch replies, and Gideon nods, steps away from the car. If he wonders why they were sitting there unbuckled for so long, he doesn't show it.
They back out of the parking lot sexy-incident-free, and they’ve gone a few blocks before he turns to look at her again. “Are we okay? I hope I didn’t say too much.”
“No, you didn't. We’re okay.” She smiles softly, actively thinking about anything but vacation sex with her boss.
(It’s surprisingly difficult.)
They process the crime scene, gaining some new insight about the unsub, and before long they’re ready for a profile. Sophie opts to ride back to the station with Prentiss under the guise of letting Gideon and Hotch iron out the details, but really she needs to be as far away from him as possible while working the case, or she’s going to lose her mind.
The rest of the day is uneventful, spent poring over pages and pages of cold case files trying to link other murders to the one that occurred earlier that day. They identify at least 15, and when they literally can’t go on for a minute longer, Hotch calls it and they discuss where to go to grab some dinner.
Italian wins, and Sophie gets a big, beautiful bowl of pasta primavera and a glass of white wine, and it’s almost enough to make her forget all about the day until Hotch catches her eye from across the table, smiling at something Morgan said, and her stomach clenches. She smiles lightly, trying to hide it, but she’s not sure she was able to save face in time. She spends the rest of the meal arguing semantics with Reid, something so perfectly normal that it shouldn’t raise anyone’s suspicions.
She feels eyes on her anyway, but she doesn’t look in their direction.
#aaron hotchner#aaron hotchner fanfic#aaron hotchner/original female character#Criminal minds fanfic
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I am a hard Taekook shipper but recently Jikook have been melting my heart by being so cute and cudly and loving. I understand and i am sorry for so mhch hate from Taekookers but trust me Taekookers are a bit shaken right now. I cannot disclose my name here but i would like to say if Jikook is real or they decide to come out which i higly doubt then i am 100% in support and also ur page helped me open my eyes and see a diff sude of shipping which is needed alot more. I am Loving Love ryt now.
C'est la vie!
So sorry for the late response love. You've always been on my mind.
I get not every Taekooker is wild and rabid just as not every Joker is sane and fake woke. Lol.
I mean I'm still holding on to my grudge against your people for storming my business pages and leaving shit reviews on my books- and laughing about it? What was that? Damn. Had to change my author name and everything and I've since been publishing under an alias- let me tell you, it's no fun at all.
In retrospect, I shouldn't have called y'all's ship dead- but honestly it dead, it dried up like a drop of sweat on a dessert. What can I say? People just don't want the truth, lol- had these angry thirteen year olds and fake woke Jokers coming for my ass and my business ass on the flamingo app. Chilee. Your people don't want to be civil. Sigh.
Some people just have no sense of personal responsibility and when they get called out for it they slap you with the whole, 'no one asked you to put yourself and your business out there' - this creepy behavior and mental adroitness is not far from rapists blaming girls for wearing short shorts and mini skirts or thieves blaming people for not putting up a fence and shit to protect their property. It's fucked up.
And don't get me started on what they do to Jimin or JK... or even Tae- not to make you feel bad or anything. It's just my people suck, your people suck, we all suck square- don't apologize for it unless you plan on doing something to change it?
As for Taekook, yea I don't think there is anything wrong with shipping them. They have a beautiful bond, they are both visuals and both funny as hell. If you won't ship them I will. Lol.
Just know the reason you are shipping them? If you are shipping them because you genuinely believe they are a couple too then you need to stop shipping them and start supporting them?
And once you start supporting them then I think you'd sooner realize there isn't anything there to support in the first place. Lol.
I support Jikook because I believe with my full chest they are real and are closeted- emphasis on closeted. And for the record, they are the only queer couples in BTS.
Tae lost his queer card when he accidentally outed Jimin on that radio show. 'I think he likes men' yea, straight up het behavior. Lack of homo sensitivity.
Did you see JK's reaction when JM was asked to spill tea on their pervy behaviors behind cams? My butt quivered. Chilee, I thought he was gone out JK too. Damn.
I think the word real and closeted have come loose and cheap on these streets these days. I don't think most of these shippers when they throw it around fully understand the term or realise what it means and what it takes. If they did, they wouldn't randomly be labeling every ship as 'real' within the fandom.
If you believe Taekook is real and that they are equally hiding their sexuality as well as their relationship within the group, then you should understand how severe and traumatizing this fact is and would be for them as gay men?
The thing is, they are not just hiding parts of themselves and their identity for the sake of their careers or military or whatever if they are real, they are lying to millions, millions of people at a time about who they really are by keeping their identity a secret. Secrets are lies honey, however way we want to see it.
If they are real then they are concealing their true identity away from not just their families and friends- if they haven't come out to them, but acquaintances from work, businesses who wouldn't work with them otherwise, brands, sponsors, Heads of states, their fans....
It's one thing for a heterosexual to keep their heterosexual relationship a secret, it's another for a queer person to keep their queerness and or queer relationship a secret.
A lie as heavy as this is bound to take a toll on them, no matter how good they are at hiding it. A secret gets heavy before it gets easy. Not to sell you on anything but do you see any such secret taking a toll on Taekook? Because I see it taking a toll on Jikook.
Do you believe Taekook are closeted? Because I believe Jikook are.
Being closeted means they have to carry the guilt of knowing that each time they pander to heteronormative roles in variety shows or interviews, or imply by omissions that they are straight, or make generalizing statements about their sexuality to avoid addressing their sexuality directly or give it away, that they are lying to people and spewing half truths- seven years in a roll.
Being closeted is not a joke. It's heavy. I think you need to grasp this before you claim it for anyone.
People like to throw the 'closeted' phrase around willy nilly but fail to comprehend its weight and complexity and consequences especially for people that they believe are actually queer.
It's not easy lying to people about who you are. Unless you are a pathological liar and a psychopath, it's like drowning each day you wake up. You die a little each time. Your sexuality is a huge part of your identity and when you deny it for so long by lying and suppressing it, it's like shutting out a peice of yourself and silencing your own voice. The more you push it aside the louder it screams and the harder it fights to come out.
It's a state of constant internal struggle. You wake up everyday contemplating whether to risk the perfect life you've spent years building just so you can turn off the guilt that comes with keeping a secret of this nature.
And each time you get better at omitting or generalizing and evading questions that hint at your truth, the more you hate yourself and the more guilt you feel. This guilt can become a driving force that pushes you to make risky moves and take impulsive actions such as 'borderline outing your relationship'- does that sound like Taekook to you?
If you are not driven by the love you feel for your partner, you are driven by the guilt and neither is a great place to be if you are queer.
You lie everyday, you get caught up in the lies and soon you start believing in the web of lies you've woven around yourself such that you don't even recognize who you are or why you are, anymore. As such, you are constantly searching for yourself, to reconcile the bits you've hidden away and perhaps forgotten, and you keep exploring your identity because you are unsettled- honey, that sounds more like Jikook than Taekook to me but c'est la vie.
Being closeted is not about moments that get cut by editors, or less interactions, or being seperated or seated further apart from eachother. These are just ship street parlance. Being closeted is an attitudinal, internal attribute rather than external manipulations or influences- it's a science. Lol
Coming out may be risky for any of these boys if they are real, but I promise you hiding is much harder for them.
And so When I look at Taekook, and I see how beautiful they are yet I don't in God's honest truth see them 'dealing' with any or all of these struggles Jikook deal with or have dealt with at one point, in my opinion- forget the homophobia, the wanting to come out, the low key microaggressions they deal with even within the group- 'the Jk never stops crying,' 'the real men don't do this and that talk' talk, the toxic masculinity and internalized homophobia traits JK and Jimin used to exhibit in their early days talking about 'real men don't twerk,' 'real men don't wear rings on their pinky'- all the times Jimin have had to defend his masculinity or even femininity, or stand up for Kook's within the group. 'Men, men, men. What is men?'
Jikook are the only two within the group that in my opinion have struggled most with their identity, with embracing aspects of themselves; you hear them complain about 'living a lie' 'tired of hiding, lying' and all these are themes consistent with closet behavior that they've both explored in one way or the other and even as of 2020 they are still dealing with or 'exploring' their identities perhaps as a means to reconcile their true selves? I'm really struggling with this post because I don't wanna get salesy on your ass. Lol.
Don't get me wrong, Tae struggles and deals with issues too- mostly with loneliness, lowkey depression in my opinion, lowkey bullying- sometimes, lol and he often expresses a desire to find someone and be happy and yet 'his supporters' don't recognize that...
You can wait till Jikook come out officially as queer, if they ever chose to, to support them- Or you can choose to support them and love them now because that's what they need in order to officially come out as and when they choose to? Ok I'm being salesy. Lmho. I'll stop. Don't mind me. But think about it.
Ship whatever ship you want but support Jikook. It's all I'm asking. And by support, I mean don't exhibit any anti homosexual attitude towards them- deadass. You and I gone fight, square up toe to toe, if you do. Lol.
People don't need to be afraid of Jikook. They just need to treat them as human beings and not reduce them to a mere ship. They are a ship too yes, but they are more than that if you ask me.
You sound nice. I love you. I'm glad you enjoy my posts. Merry Christmas and cheers to our ships.
Keep supporting Jikook. Jikook is real.
Signed,
GOLDY
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The Bias of Body Language
By Admin 1, with help from Admin 2
“About social media…it’s easy to interpret. People think they’re moral or ethical. They talk about themselves thinking they’re logically perfect. In fact, in a relationship, even my mother doesn’t know me, for example. About Yoongi or Hoseok who have lived with me for 10 years, it’s hard to say I know them well. Do I really know the person? It’s hard to know myself. “I know him and he’s like this”. “He’s such a person”. I thought this is quite dangerous.”
-- Namjoon, vlive “Namjun’s 7 Behind”, 57:30 onward
Everything in our life is centered around biases, preferences, our partiality toward everything, regardless if it’s about big or trivial matters. Instead of having a single cellphone model for everyone, you can choose one based on your bias. Walk into a fashion store and depending on your bias you’ll gravitate toward darker clothes, longer dresses, shorter skirts, pants, and so on. Someone could present you the very same dress but in two different colors and despite them being exactly the same, your bias, your preference, will dictate that you’ll think the yellow dress is hideous while the black one is gorgeous. Yet the next person might think the exact opposite.
If that weren’t enough there’s also something called a confirmation bias, which is characterized by a tendency to search for, interpret, favor, and recall information in a way that confirms or supports your prior beliefs or values. Both these things, our bias and our confirmation bias, are something we come across and tend to apply to content, in this case, BTS content specifically, and how we view and interpret body language.
Have you ever noticed how when it comes to certain scenes, moments, and/or interactions, suddenly there are thousands upon thousands of body language specialists within ARMY? Suddenly everyone will try to convince you that “based on my experience as body language expert/someone who’s amazing at reading body language this interactions means that”, coming from people who prior to it might’ve never mentioned being such expert or who are plain wrong yet try to convince you otherwise to feed into their own confirmation bias.
Interesting though is the fact that claiming that you’re able to interpret someone’s body language in an infallible manner based on a three-minute video is, to put it lightly, plain wrong and impossible at that. In order to do something like that you’d have to study that person 24/7 in every kind of situation imaginable, take note of every minute detail, interpret it all and, on top of all that, be able to have a conversation with that person to ask them to confirm or deny your theories. Once you’d have all of that, you’d be able to attempt a proper body language reading, and chances are you might still not get it right each time, or at all. Every person behaves a little differently, has their own behavioral pattern, things characteristic for them, and acts a certain way with different people and in different situations, so just because you can read one person right in a singular given situation, doesn't mean it’s the same for every person and every situation.
An example I find very curious is Jungkook during their most recent performance of Life Goes On at the GDAs. When you watch it, you’d think that yes, he liked the miniature set of No More Dream, but that’s it. He was calm, focused, professional. And yet when you watch the behind the scene glimpse at the performance, and watch him specifically, you notice that he was constantly focusing on the set and having to stop himself from messing with it. (x)
What does that tell us? Easy. We only see small glimpses of BTS, of their behavioral patterns, and even the things we do see are polished, controlled, and not entirely natural, so to speak. That isn’t a bad thing by any means, it’s what you’d expect of a professional performer who still is a human like everyone else.
So, if we get body language wrong with something like that, how can these “experts” be sure their interpretations are correct? Even more so when you take into account that every person has some sort of tic, or a number of them. It can be something like absentmindedly playing with a ring, licking/wetting your lips or biting them, scratching or messing with the cuticles on your nails, tapping your foot, or a million other things. There’s also cultural influences/norms that shape certain behaviors in ways someone from another culture might not understand or will interpret completely differently since it means something else entirely in their culture.
And here is where a lot of people, these “experts” as well as those unable to put aside their bias and confirmation bias, go wrong.
More below the cut:
To preface the next two sections, a little disclaimer: I don’t mean to badmouth people like this, after all putting aside these biases is tricky and staying objective about something you’re passionate about is a hard thing to do, as well as distinguishing between an objective observation and a bias one, but it doesn’t change the fact that sometimes people purposefully present their bias opinions as facts. That doesn’t necessarily cause issues, but sometimes it can have a very negative ripple effect that can affect and influence others, taint their opinions and cloud their objectivity when it comes to certain things.
That’s when it becomes a problem.
Section One – non-shipping related interactions between the members
You’d think this would be the more unproblematic section, but turns out it isn’t, though it’s problematic in a different way. While most casual fans or OT7 ARMY watch and enjoy interactions between the members without looking too deeply at them, without analyzing and trying to interpret things, therefore leave aside most biases, there are others who do not.
OT1s for instance go into Episodes, Bangtan B*mbs, or RUN with a bias and a need to feed their confirmation bias, be it by finding “evidence” to prove that their fav is being left out or is mistreated or a plethora of other (usually) negative ideas. People like that don’t watch interactions as just friends trying to make each other laugh or playing off of each other, but instead look for things to get upset or up in arms about because their bias going in is that their fav isn’t happy (because that’s what they want to be the truth in many cases).
Or a situation where a member might be a bit more quiet or stiff. Quickly “body language specialists” jump in and interpret this as that member being unhappy, being overworked, wanting to quit and not getting along with the other members, being bullied or silenced by them. When in reality it’s far more likely he just wasn’t feeling well, was tired or maybe his back hurt. But rationality has no place in a bias view, when the sole purpose for that person to watch that content is to find evidence that feeds their confirmation bias.
You could argue that maybe those people are simply looking out for their fav, just want what’s best for him and that they mean well, but do they really? How come those without that narrow bias lens see the same interaction completely differently? If those same people would take a step back and switch from their bias lens to an objective one, would they still see all that negative “evidence”? Chances are they would not.
Section Two – Shipping related interactions between the members
The irony of calling this section in such a manner is that oftentimes these interactions have no actual shipping relation, hold no proof of anything romantic whatsoever. But I’m getting ahead of myself.
When shippers sit down to watch a piece of BTS content, they enter the video with a clear bias—X ship is real, as example—so they are (only) on the lookout for interactions between their ship and interpret those interactions in a shipping context, while disregarding/ignoring interactions with other members in many cases since those are uninteresting, or when they care it’s only to again feed into their bias. They look for any piece of evidence to feed their confirmation bias, which sometimes goes as far as completely misconstruing, misinterpreting, and manipulating interactions in order to twist them to fit their bias.
Here’s also where body language and tics come back into the conversation. A lot of ship evidence videos on YouTube rely on body language, somehow every creator being an expert in this field and their interpretations are usually backed by thousands of comments confirming that they are right, that it’s the only logical way of interpreting things. Because that interpretation fits their agenda, feeds their confirmation bias. The funny thing though is that many of the things presented as evidence can be easily explains in a different way once you put aside your bias.
Take wetting/biting your lip as example. Thousands of videos edit together interview moments in which member X supposedly looks at member Y while wetting his lip. That, of course, is taken as ship evidence, interpreted as proof that member X is in love with member Y, that they feel romantic/erotic attraction for member Y showcased through that lip bite. That though is a very bias way of interpreting that action, especially since it removes all context and logic.
Let’s try looking at it a bit more objectively:
I don’t know if you noticed this, but the more you wear a mask, the more your lips are dry and chapped, which explains the need for lip balm. What’s that remind us of? Exactly. The members have been seen countless times using lip balm, even on stage, and they also wear masks a lot, as you do in a pandemic and also because it’s a completely normal thing to do in Asia. Why do you use lip balm? Because your lips are dry. Why do you bite your lip? Because they are dry/chapped, and/or because it’s a tic.
Now, if we look at that same scene again, member X looking at member Y while biting his lip and take into account the above deduction, isn’t it a far more likely explanation than member X feeling the need to showcase his attraction for member Y in that very moment, especially if they are at an interview about their new album, for example? Furthermore, does looking at someone necessarily mean it’s an action done out of love? Isn’t it far more likely that member X looked at member Y because Y was saying something and it’s the polite thing to do, or X was simply looking in Y’s general direction since you have to look somewhere, can’t just stare at the ceiling or close your eyes, right?
Another example I’d like to discuss is how “body language experts” interpret the very same action in two drastically different ways depending on which bias it’s supposed to feed. This point, I think, highlights just how ridiculous and bias these body language interpretations really are, and how unreliable they truly are.
Let’s take member A lying down and cuddling with member B, which is interpreted as two lovely boyfriends cuddling in bed, but when member A lies down and cuddles with member C it’s interpreted as just two bros and nothing more. Even though the scene looks exactly the same. A and B cuddling feeds their confirmation bias, so A and C cuddling is dismissed and downgraded to not interfere with their bias. This is oftentimes done subconsciously, because they are so deep into their bias mindset, they see no other way of interpreting these actions. Even though the basic scene is the same, yet occasionally it might actually come across more relaxed and “romantic” when A and C do it as opposed to A and B, but since that doesn’t fit the confirmation bias, it’s dismissed and interpreted otherwise.
And this is where we circle back to Namjoon’s quote at the beginning of this whole thing: claiming you can interpret their body language with a 100% certainty is a foolish and naïve statement because all we get to see are small glimpses of their days. We see what they want us to see, the best version of themselves, we see edited clips and controlled behavior, the members putting forth their best faces, their nicest smiles, and thinking that just because your bias tells you that a touch of a thigh or upper arm or bitten lip with their face turned in the general direction of another member must mean something or another, it doesn’t mean it’s truly so.
We can theorize, we can analyze, we can make jokes and have fun, but the moment people get into fights or start hate against other members solely based on bias body language interpretations, that’s where we have an issue. And that happens all the time. And it doesn’t just happen with their body language, but also with their words, but that’s an entirely different can of worms I might try to dive into another time if you’d be interested in my thoughts on it. Let me know.
TL;DR: Body language is a very complex thing, interpreting it in an infallible way basically impossible, so making claims of exactly being able to interpret it without bias is naïve, as is believing those interpretations. In order to truly be able to interpret/understand the dynamic between members, body language alone isn’t enough in any kind of way. It isn’t a good enough source or tool to make proper judgements, it’s actually the weakest and most lacking one, especially when it isn’t done in an 100% unbias manner.
The only thing body language can tell us if someone’s a good actor or not, but figuring out true feelings between the members solely based on it, especially when these interpretations are usually skewed due to a bias, isn’t really possible. Even less so if you don’t also take into account the context in which whatever interaction you are interpreting is happening in.
#lets talk about body language#discussion#BTS#admin 1 seriously doesn't know how to use less than 2k words#I applaud anyone who actually finishes this entire thing you're the MVP#bangtan sonyeondan
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Bölüm 45 asks
Plus a few asks from 44, and one about the fragman for 46
Read more under the cut
Anonymous asked: I cannot believe that Ayse revived the "Kemal is Serkan's real father" theory but I think I'm down for it? At least now Kiraz has one decent grandparent and he seems like genuinely nice man. I've been wishing for him to have some scenes with Serkan because the way they set up this S2 plot, they could relate to one another and I was sad to see that he spent 5 years hiding instead
I'm down for this plot! See, now that I know they're doing the long-lost-father plot, it makes all the sense in the world why Serkan doesn't like Kemal and they didn't forge a relationship in the last five years. If they had, then finding out he's his dad would have been a lot less jarring and dramatic. Finding out now and then forging the relationship I think will be a bit more meaty story so it works for me.
To me this story works on a lot of levels, and makes sense with who Serkan is and his very strained relationship with Alptekin. It's like Alptekin sensed it, and resented Serkan his whole life. For those worried that Serkan will no longer have the last name Bolat, I'm not sure where that's coming from. Maybe I'm just not familiar with other cultures, but that is his name, Alptekin raised him, adults don't just up and change their name because of genetics. If you're adopted and you meet your bio dad as an adult, you don't change your name to your bio dad's.
Serkan's name is very much a part of his identity. Which is why this story has so much potential, because it could shake Serkan to his very core to find out who he thought he was, was wrong. He thought he was unlovable, most importantly maybe he'll finally realize there was more at play there and it wasn't at fault.
Anonymous asked: There were a couple things in the last episode that didn't sit well with me. 1. I can't believe Eda made Serkan sleep outside at night and didn't feel bad in the morning when she realized he got sick! 2. The way Seyfi announced Aydan and Kemal's secret relationship. It wasn't his secret to tell, though Aydan did deserve the way everyone reacted. So I got over that pretty quick. 3. Burak!!! He's not the one for Melo. She deserves better and if they end up together in the end, I'm gonna protest.
1. Unless you're going to put the same energy into not believing that Serkan had the gal to remove his bed on the floor as a way to maneuver himself into Eda's bed before she was ready, I really can't relate. It was done for comedy, my advice is to unclench and just giggle along.
2. Or you could look at it as being unfair of Aydan to burden Seyfi with that secret and require he lie to his other employer for five years. I mean I don't disagree that it wasn't his secret to tell, but Aydan had plenty of chances, and it was time for it to come out.
3. This one we are in 100% agreement about. MELO DESERVES BETTER. I will die on this hill.
Anonymous asked: Hi! Do you think Serkan actually believes in Kerem's abilities (he trusts Eda's faith in Kerem) or is this part of his plan to win Eda back? Either way I'm okay, just wondering what you think.
No, I do not think he gained a sudden belief in Kerem's abilities, but I do think he believes in Eda. And if Eda believes in Kerem then when push comes to shove that is enough for Serkan. Of course, he did it as part of his plan to win Eda back. Serkan is taking every opportunity to let Eda know that he respects her and believes in her and I think this was another example of that. There was also an aspect of him trying to win over another person in Eda's circle who was suspicious of him. The fewer people he has working against him, the better! He knows he has no shot with Burak or Ayfer, so this episode he worked on Melo and Kerem. But mostly it was him trying to make Eda's life easier, by smoothing over a personnel problem she was having, thus making working out of Art Life a more attractive option for her. All of those things in one!
Anonymous asked: What do you think about Eda and Piril's friendship? This episode really highlighted how close they've gotten.
Yes, they have gotten close, and I'm happy Eda has a friend, but at the same time I don't trust Piril. This is a woman who discarded Eda and embraced Selin when she was manipulating and abusing a brain-damaged Serkan.
Eda might be able to forget, but I can't. Also as a character she's just boring, rigid and humorless. One of my least favorites on screen.
That being said I do like the triad dynamic of Kiraz/Can, Serkan/Engin, and Eda/Piril, it was fun when they were calling each other at the same time.
Anonymous asked: Idk if they reached out to Maya just because she looked like Hande considering she had no acting experience, but this little girl is like the best casting I've seen. The chemistry with Hande and Kerem is amazing. She's so expressive. I am a Kiraz stan.
She's doing a fantastic job, precious thing! I have no idea how they found her, I know she was an instagram model, but the SCK casting director strikes again. This season doesn't work if we don't fall in love with Kiraz. Thankfully, we did!
Anonymous asked: Hi! Since it seems that we will have 13 episodes, do you think that Edser reconciliation/wedding will be left for the finale, 12-13 ep? Cause Ayse loves to drag and keep them apart.
I think the wedding might be closer to the end, but I think reconciliation will be a bit sooner than that.
However, I have to say that it's really not like they're apart.. is it? I mean this episode we had them living together, sort of casually planning their future together. Next episode we have them pretending to be married and ramping up the sexual tension to white-hot-sun levels, these are all good things. With episodes like this, I don't personally consider the show dragging it out.
In fandom I see a lot of peeps upset because Eda isn't getting immediately back with Serkan and I am feeling inpatient as well, do you think the writers are making a mistake keeping them apart?
Again, I guess my response to you is, by what definition was this episode "keeping them apart?"
Yes, they aren't having sex, but they are living together, working together, raising their daughter together, and I'm a-okay with having a couple of delicious episodes of that while they are still not fully back together romantically. Let's be real, they're still waking up in bed together, flirting, and having a romantic dinner together, so it's not like things aren't moving forward, they are. I'd advise putting aside your impatience, and just sit back, relax, and let the story take its course. There is no need to be anxious with this one. They are going to end up with their happily ever after together, but what we're seeing right now is delightful. It's them in family and domestic situations, them with their child. Most shippers only dream of getting to see this.
This sort of goes back to my stance on episodes 16-24, I know that was a frustrating time for a lot of fans because they were "broken up" but I've always said they may have been officially broken up, but they were in a committed relationship that entire time. And I enjoyed those episodes from that perspective, that tension of them being "apart" but still functioning as a unit and still being emotionally tied together underneath it all. There's kind of a similar situation here, they aren't officially back together, Eda is resisting him, but they are in a committed relationship and I don't understand what the need is to rush through this part? Enjoy the sexual tension of them living together, but not sleeping together. Enjoy the rom com romp of Serkan trying to get in her bed, and Eda taking steps to keep him out. Enjoy their daughter putting them in situations that force them into close proximity, and enjoy them falling into easy compatibility without even trying. Enjoy Serkan planning romantic dinners, and Eda enjoying it despite her every effort to protect her heart.
To me this is very good stuff, and spending this time being impatient and wanting what didn't happen yet, instead of enjoying what did happen is pretty much the recipe for unhappiness not just with this show, but life.
Anonymous asked: i feel like i've seen the exact same frustrations ppl have had with eda right now back around the 20s too after serkan told her about her parents' secret. it was like, now that he's told her the truth, she should automatically forgive him and get back together. same thing happening here, with him accepting his role as kiraz's father. it feels like the same impatience that's put on eda to just forgive him already bc everyone wants happy edser and she's in the way lol.. like girl needs time!
Agreed, and it makes me wonder if these folks have ever watched television before, lmao. Patience! There's a story unfolding and from the first 6 episodes it's clear they have a season long arc planned. All in due time.
Eda spent five years thinking that Serkan stopped loving her, and discarded her for work. The second time he used that excuse to break her heart. My goodness, it's more than okay if she needs a little time to adjust and learn how to trust him again. PLUS that means we get to watch him work on her, try to make inroads, romance her, forge a relationship with his daughter and earn Eda's trust back. What's bad in that?
What did you think of the fragman? It's kind of dumb and unrealistic that they have to dance for a school admission interview.
LMAO. Yes, yes it is, but my question to you is, sana ne?
I mean why do you care if the set up is dumb or not? Or if it's realistic? It's a device to get Serkan and Eda to pretend to be married before they're fully back together and an excuse for us to see Edser smash themselves together in a sensual tangle of limbs while they pretend to be unaffected, while both are being engulfed in USTy flames.
I'm not complaining, why are you?
Come on, this show is silly, it has been from day one, enjoy the fact that we are getting silly plots that force our couple into hilarious and hot situations, because Hande and Kerem are going to give us gold, I guarantee it and I'm going to smile through every second watching it.
xxxxxxxxxx
These asks are from episode 44, they came in and I didn't have time to answer before 45 aired:
Anonymous asked: Do you think there is a point when there are too many “parallels” and it becomes more like scenes are being recycled? Because I kinda felt that way in the last episode. Like she’s just tossing in as many things as she can from those first 11 episodes but I’ve already watched those and Id rather we focus more character progression. I feel like they regressed from those honest conversations last week and were back to being petty this week.
I guess my answer is... no, I don't think there have been too many parallels. Episode 44 was partly about truth bubbling to the surface, with the biggest truth being that Serkan has been in love with Eda every minute of every day since they parted. That is a very important thing for Eda to understand and know and they really can't move forward until she does, because she felt unloved and forgotten all those years. Most of the parallels were illustrating that by showing that he held on to their history, he remembered their history and he honored it. Okay by me.
Anonymous asked: There were some amazing dialogues in the episode. I have two that tie for top. One was when Kiraz said that Serkan was her wish (when blowing her birthday candles), and the other was when Serkan said Apollo was never going to give up on the woman he loves nor on the cherries! Oh my heart had feels both times. What were your favourite dialogues in the episode?
Oh man my head is in 45 now, but both of those examples of yours were great. I loved both of them.
The other than springs to mind is while fishing, Eda telling Serkan that he didn't need to be perfect for Kiraz to love him, he just had to be himself.
Swoon.
That's so important for Serkan to hear, because he doesn't think he's worthy of love as himself, so hearing that from Eda is impactful.
Anonymous asked: reading your ep review, i think a big reason some people are hanging on to hate the s2 plot no matter what are just bc they hate the writer. of course not everyone, but a lot of people will just hate on anything she writes out of spite, even if objectively the episode is very good. idk why that is or when ppl decided they hated her but it's not warranted at all imo. i can understand not liking the premise of this season, but after watching it so far there has been SUCH an improvement edser-wise.
People can like, dislike, love, hate anything they want. Consuming entertainment doesn't have to be a team sport. That being said, from what I've seen I'd agree with your assessment. Teams have formed (Anti-Ayse, Pro-Ayse, etc) and the former are too invested in hating everything she does, the former possibly too forgiving at times. That's their choice, but I have to say I feel bad for the anti brigade, this is a show they loved, and most of them are still watching, but they've completely sabotaged themselves from finding any joy in any of it and I think they're going to regret it once it's over.
Also season 2 is so much better than I thought it could be. I honestly thought there was no way to get back to the early quality, but it's here. The show is really watchable and fun this season, and it's a shame for those who've let their attitudes get so negative that they can't enjoy it.
Anonymous asked: Ok so I'm aware this would be highly uncharacteristic of a dizi - but if they know there's only 6 eps left, my dream would be no more big bad events and just spend it rebuilding EdSer as a couple and a family. Would that be too much to ask lol. They've jumped from one disaster to another. Since we're at the end & they have the luxury of knowing it, I just want to see them working through things as a real unit. They've dated for like 7 eps out of 45? Can we get that above 10 at least????
Congratulations! Because that's exactly what we've gotten so far in season 2. Once we got past the trauma of the 5 year time jump, all the drama has been internal to Eda and Serkan and their relationship. The whole season so far has been about rebuilding Edser as a couple and a family. And if you're watching without the tauntruming twitter teens in your ear, you'd realize we ARE watching them work through things as a real unit.
I'll say this until I'm blue in the face (apparently) just because they are not currently sexing each other up, does not mean they aren't emotionally doing all the things necessary to reach their full potential as a couple.
They are. It's happening. Enjoy it.
#Sen Çal Kapımı#sen cal kapimi#edser#sckask#sck 2x45#sck 2x06#sck episode discussion#edser discussion#asklizac
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Someday Soon-Chapter 8
Pairing: JJ Maybank x Fem!OC
Summary: Tensions rise, as the gold seems closer then ever the Pogues feel themselves being pushed away from one another.
Notes: Back at it again with a terrible summary. Though I suppose at this point in the fic you probably know if you want to keep reading.
Word Count: 2.8k
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I could remember sitting outside with my friends under the bright lights that now covered John B’s yard and I could vaguely remember falling asleep on JJ’s shoulder. Exhausted from the long day it was easy to fall asleep. What I could not remember was how exactly I had gotten from the backyard into a bed. But my questions were answered as the strong arms that were wrapped around my waist tightened slightly as JJ woke up. As I became more awake I recalled last night when he had ushered me inside, half asleep when the temperature had dipped a little too low to be comfortable.
“Good morning.” He mumbled, as I turned to face him. His eyes were still closed and half of his face was pressed into the pillow he laid on.
But was it a good morning? The events of the previous night replayed in my head on a loop. Aside from the fact that JJ had completely broken down, I couldn’t help but wonder where our relationship stood. It was clear that we were no longer just friends but what were we? JJ had never been one for relationships and the only real relationship I had had lasted all of one month. What would happen next? Where did we go from here?
The many questions running through my mind were pushed away when JJ lifted his head to look at me before leaning down to press a kiss to my cheek. The action brought a smile to my face and I decided to stop worrying even if it was only for a little while. For now I would just enjoy the time we spent together. After we got the gold we could talk about us, on a beach far away from here.
I decided that it was time to start the day. We had a couple things that needed to get done before we returned to the Crain house.
“Where are you going?” JJ groaned as I left the bed.
“I'm getting ready, we can’t stay in bed all day.” I responded with a smile.
“We could if you got back in bed.”
The look on JJ’s face almost got me back in bed but I knew that I shouldn’t.
“No, come on. Don’t you want to get rich?”
“4 mil’ rich?”
“400 mil’ rich.” I corrected him. “But in order to do that we have to get out of bed.”
“Fine.” JJ finally huffed. I smiled back at him before making my way out of the Château to go see if Pope needed help with whatever he was setting up in the backyard.
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It was clear that Pope didn’t really need my help but he still asked me to stay close incase Kie needed help getting down. While Pope started setting up the controls, I watched JJ finally leave the Château and make his way over to the hot tub to watch Pope work from afar.
“So what’s up with you and JJ?” Kie asked snapping me out of my thoughts.
“What?” I asked, unsure of how to answer.
“Well you seemed inseparable last night.”
“Oh yeah, well I’m just trying to be there for him.” I responded, I was trying to figure out whether or not to tell her about the dinner JJ had set up. I figured I might as well, after all she might help me figure out what it meant. “Plus he kind of set up a date for us last night. At least I think it was a date, I mean he told me he liked me and we kissed. Honestly I don’t know where we stand.”
“Really?” Kie asked, a shocked expression covered her features as she paused to think about what I had told her. “Just think about if what you really want is realistic. Whatever happens between you two could seriously mess with the rest of us.”
I didn’t have a chance to respond as Pope called Kie over to help him test out his contraption. I watched her walk away as my brows furrowed in confusion. A few days ago she had let me cry on her shoulder and told me that JJ would come around and we would be fine. Yet now she was telling me to think about what I really wanted cause it might mess with our friend group. I tried to push the frustration I felt for Kie down as I made my way over to Pope to ask how it was going.
“How's it feeling?” Pope asked Kie who was being lifted into the air.
“Feels good.” She responded.
“Taking you down.”
“John B pullin' a Houdini.” JJ spoke up from his spot across the yard.
“Yeah, where is he?” I asked, none of us had seen him and I was beginning to get concerned.
“I got my scholarship interview tomorrow.” Pope reminded us all. “We gotta get this done!”
“Speak of the devil. Hey!” JJ shouted as John B seemingly appeared out of thin air. “Dude, I set up the entire winch to pull up the gold and everything.”
“No, he did not. I did that.” Pope tried to defend, but John B wasn’t listening to any of it as he stormed past us all.
“Okay, that's it?” JJ asked.
“What's that all about?” I added, I was now more concerned after seeing John B than when he was MIA.
“I was gonna ask you the same question.” Pope responded, as we all made our way into the Château.
When we got inside John B was tearing apart the living room it seemed like he was looking for something.
“Are you alright? What... what's up?” I asked as John B continued to tear through the house.
“What are you looking for?” Kie asked, my concerns rising as we watched him.
“Bro, what's going on?” JJ added as John B lifted up the bed and took the gun out of its hiding spot.
“John B, what do you need the gun for?” Pope demanded. “Talk to us!”
“John B, chill!” Kie tried to calm him while he pushed past us all to get back outside.
“What are you doing? What, are you JJ now?” Pope criticized.
“John B, what the hell are you doing?” I asked as we watched him climb onto JJ dirt bike and start it up.
“John B, what the hell?” Kie asked trying to get closer to where he was.
“Ward knows about the gold.” John B finally explained. “He killed my dad.”
And with that he drove off Kie and Pope chased after him for a minute before making their way back to where JJ and I stood. We all looked completely lost as I wondered if John B was really planning on killing Ward to get his revenge.
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Later that night after the sun went down we were camped out on the Cameron’s dock, looking for John B. I wasn’t sure if I hoped to see John B or not, I was worried about him and I wanted to know he was okay but if he really did show up to hurt Ward I wasn’t sure what would happen.
“What now? We just go up to the front door and ask, <Hey, have you seen John B?>” JJ asked us. It was clear that none of us really knew what the point of coming here was.
“Look, he lives at Tannyhill now. It's plausible.” Kie said, she had been the one to suggest that we come here.
“We can try to play dumb.” I added.
“Play dumb? It's pretty late” JJ reminded us.
“Look, I've never seen John B like that. We should honestly be going to the cops.” Kie said.
“The cop... Yeah, and say what, Kie?” JJ started ranting. “We're worried about our friend because he's on a rampage because Ward Cameron killed Big John? Like, they're not gonna believe us!”
“Hey, I see Ward.” Pope cut off JJ.
“Let me see.” Kie said as Pope passed here the pair of binoculars he had brought.
“Doesn't look dead to me. Let's go home.”
“Wait. What?” Kie asked.
“Uh... Okay. Obviously, Mr. Cameron is fine, and even if John B was here, he isn't now, okay?” Pope began to explain. “Plus, I have the biggest, most important moment of my life in six hours.”
“Yeah, well, our friend is in trouble.” Kie tried to argue
“I'm in trouble.” Pope reasoned. “Guys, I haven't been home in three days. My dad's probably put all my shit on the street by now.”
“Okay, so that's it?” Kie asked, every time she added to her argument I began to side with Pope more, John B was not the only thing we all had to worry about. “In a time of need, you're just gonna bail? You're just gonna walk away?”
“He’s not walking away.” I spoke up moving closer to the arguing pair. “We can’t all constantly worry about John B when there’s other shit going on and we don’t even know where he is.”
“Okay, yo, guys, can we not do this right now?” JJ tried to break up the fighting.
“Hey, I have a scholarship interview in the morning.” Pope reminded us. “I can't…”
“Okay, well, what about John B?” Kie asked.
“What about him?” I countered.
“Why is it always about John B?” Pope questioned.
“It's not always about John B.” Kie stated. “It would be any of you in this situation.”
“Oh, bullshit!” Pope said.
“This is about friendship.” Kie spoke but I couldn’t help but think if that were true then she would be thinking about Pope’s problems as well as John B’s.
“Bring it down.” JJ spoke up still trying to calm us all down.
“Look, this is about Pogues for life.” Kie tried to tell us, I rolled my eyes as she said it. It was like she wasn’t listening to her own words.
“What about forensic pathology, huh?” Pope asked desperately.
“Forensic pathology?” Kie responded as if she didn’t care at all.
“It's my life. Everything I've worked for.” Pope reminded her.
“That's your priority?” Kie asked as if Pope’s future didn’t matter.
“Stop the moral high ground bullshit!” I finally snapped, moving closer into Kie’s space.
“Iz, come on. No.” JJ tried to stop me by placing a hand on my arm.
“Excuse me? No, no. She has no room to talk.” I asked, brushing his hand away. “Where were you when Big John went missing? You weren't there.”
“You weren't there for John B. You weren't there for any of us.” Pope added to my argument. “Remember your Kook year?”
“Yeah, you forgot about us.” I reminded her. “Now you feel guilty.”
“Give me a break.” She muttered trying to move past us.
“That’s what you need?” I asked, blocking her way. “You need a break? Cause none of us get a break according to you.”
“Move!” Kie yelled back.
I felt like I was ready to swing at her when JJ finally stepped between us, stopping the argument.
“Hey! Yo, yo, yo, cut it out, all right?” JJ started to chastise us. “If I'm the one mediating, we've hit rock bottom. Kie, bow, now. Pope, Iz, stern.”
As I followed Pope to the back of the boat I could hear him muttering about his interview. I felt like I had made things worse when I just wanted to help him. I also wondered how much of my anger with Kie was about our priorities and how much of my anger was due to what she had said about JJ and I.
“Pope, I'll drop you off.” JJ broke the silence before starting up the engine and pulling away from the dock.
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The next morning everyone was gathered on dock at the Château save for Pope who I assumed was doing his interview right now. I was sure it was going well, he had been preparing for it all summer, but I couldn’t help but worry.
“You sure he got everything?” Kie asked from across the dock. We were yet to speak to each other since last night and I wondered how long it would take for us to make up.
“Every bar.” John B confirmed his story again. “The whole enchilada. Look, it's not like I expected a happy ending or some shit.”
“John B…” Kie trailed off as we watched him rip apart his cast that wrapped around his hand and arm.
“What, Kie? It's a hairline fracture. Who cares?” He asked as if it was nothing.
“You should care. Your arm's gonna be messed up for life.”
“It's fine. See?” John B showed her, moving his hand as if that proved the bones had healed.
Their discussion was cut off by Pope who was barreling down the dock towards us all.
“Oh, God. I ran all the way here.” He explained, after he reached us all, trying to catch his breath.
“You all right?” I asked, concerned by his behavior.
“How was the interview, Pope?” JJ wondered.
“Don't ask.” He waved off our questions, still trying to catch his breath. “Look, I'm sorry, dude. About everything. But... but I don't have a lot of time, and... and I have information that is tactically relevant.”
We all looked at each other waiting for Pope to continue.
“So, before I had my interview, my dad said he was going down to the private airstrip to cut palms for Cameron's big plane. Because it was too heavy, it needed a longer landing strip to take off. So, I'm there sitting in my interview, thinking to myself, <Hm. Why would Cameron need a longer airstrip to take off? What could be so heavy to weigh it down?>” He paused as we all thought about the question.
“Gold.” John B realized.
“Exactly.” Pope confirmed.
“Guys, this is our chance, but if it leaves tonight, and we have to go. Guys, we can't give up now.” John B said, looking around to make sure we were all in.
“What's the plan, big man?” JJ asked with a smile.
“We're gonna steal that shit back.” John B reasoned before we all took off towards the van.
“Let's do this!” Pope shouted excitedly, I felt hopeful that we were finally going to get the treasure and complete the hunt we had been on.
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The sun streamed into the van as we flew down the road in hopes that we would be able to beat Cameron's plane from taking off. After the excited shouting had quieted down my worries began to set in about what we were actually going to do to stop Ward.
“So what exactly is our plan here?” I asked the others as I watched JJ load bullets into his gun.
“We go in there, guns a-blazin', make Ward Cameron beg for mercy, abscond with as much gold as possible and vámonos, get the hell out of there.” JJ explained.
“Down the Intracoastal.” Pope added.
“Wait for weather.” Kie continued.
“Exit to Cuba.” Pope finished.
“Cuba?” JJ asked, setting the gun down. “No, man, Xcalak, Jewel of the Yucatan. Lobsters so thick, mangoes, and no word for money.”
With a smile on my face I rolled my eyes at him mentioning Yucatan again, ever since he had gotten a good grade on a project about the Mexican state he brought it up whenever possible.
“Let's do this shit.” John B spoke up as we pulled up next to the airstrip.
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We were standing outside of the fenced airstrip trying to come up with a plan up until John B had spotted Sarah being dragged onto the plane and had promptly created his own plan.
“Hey! What are you doing?” Pope asked as John B started up the van.
“Don't be a hero, dude! John B!” JJ tried to stop him as the wheels of the van squealed and he drove right through the fence.
“What is he doing?” I muttered while the others kept screaming for him to come back.
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As we stood near the airstrip waiting for John B to come back, I wondered what he was planning to do now that he had stopped Ward from taking off. As they began to argue we heard sirens approaching from behind us. We all turned around, my anxiety was bubbling up as I hoped that the others knew what we should be doing.
“Guys, I can't get arrested. I'm on probation.” JJ reminded us.
“Look, we're no good if we're all in jail.” Kie reasoned as we all prepared to take off.
“Come on.” Pope spoke up, guiding us somewhere we could hide out while we waited for John B.
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2020 Favorite Video Games
I don’t know if I am an outlier or if this is the same for everyone else but I really did not play a lot of games this year. 2020 was a very harsh year for all of us, especially for me for some personal reasons. So to get to the chase, I am just gonna say it left me not doing much in what little free time I did have, and I didn’t play much either. Usually I try to keep my lists for ‘favorite of the year’ to only titles released that year but since I played so little this year, screw it. I am gonna include any game I played this year regardless of release date.
Collection of SaGa
By far a flawed rerelease. It’s bare bones: there are no advance features you would usually expect out of these kinds of emulated rereleases like save states, fast forward, or rewind, and there was no real effort made to touch up almost 30 year old localizations that had to meet Nintendo of America’s then harsh standards. This really is just 3 roms slapped into a nice looking interface with an option to increase the game speed (which by the way you better use, the characters walk very slow in these old games).
I am bit harsh here, but only because I thought the Romancing SaGa remasters and the upcoming SaGa Frontier remaster all looked like they got a great budget and a lot of love while this is just another Collection of Mana situation (moreso specifically talking about Seiken Densetsu 1/Final Fantasy Adventure/Adventures of Mana part of that collection). I would have loved to see Square Enix do a bit more for these older games. Or at least include the remakes. Seiken Densetsu 1 had two great remakes, both unused in Collection of Mana, and all three of these original SaGa titles have remakes that have never seen the light of day outside of Japan. How great would it have been to get the Wonderswan remake of SaGa 1, as well as the Nintendo DS remakes of Saga 2 and SaGa 3?
But my gripes aside, these games are still fun as they ever were. Replaying SaGa 1 specifically during the holiday season really helped calm me down and made me feel at ease. It’s easy to forget but even in their Gameboy roots there are a lot of funky and weird experimental choices being made in these games. They aren’t your run-of-the-mil dragon quest (or considering the gameboy, maybe pokemon would be more apt) clones.
Raging Loop
Perhaps my favorite game of the year, Raging Loop is one of the best visual novels I have ever played hands down. The level of creativity and splitting story paths that went into it is simply mind blowing. The basic premise is both a wonderful throwback to the old days of Chunsoft sound novels while still modern and somewhat reminiscent of both Higurashi and Danganronpa. Essentially you play as Haruaki, a poor slub that got lost in the mountains with no clue where to go until you stumble upon an old rural village with a strange history and even stranger superstitions. Before you know it there has been a murder and the Feast is now afoot.
The less said about Raging Loop the better, although I do want to say a lot about it one day if I ever can write a proper review of it. This is a gripping game that will take hold of you once you get into it though and never let go. I actually 100%-ed this and I very rarely do that. I got every ending, every bonus hidden ending, played the entire game twice to hear all the hidden details it purposely hides on your first play through, played all the bonus epilogue chapters, unlocked all the hidden voice actor interviews, collected all the art work, etc, etc. I was just obsessed with this game, it’s that damn good! And the main character is maybe the best troll in all of video games, god bless Haruaki.
Root Double
From Takumi Nakazawa, long time contributor to Kotaro Uchikoshi’s work comes a game any fan of Zero Escape or Uchikoshi in general will probably enjoy. Root Double, like its name suggests is a visual novel with two different routes, hence Root Double. The first route stars Watase Kasasagi, the leader of an elite rescue team in the midst of their greatest crisis yet that could lead to nuclear devastation as they try to evacuate a nuclear research facility that has gone awry.
The other route stars Natsuhiko Tenkawa, an everyday high schooler whose peaceful life is thrown into turmoil when he stumbles upon a terrorist plot to destroy the nuclear facility in the city and his attempts to stop them. Together the two separate plots weave into one and creates a really crazy ride. Part Chernobyl, part science fiction, any fan of the genre will easily enjoy it. And hey it’s kind of relevant to include on this list too since it just got a Switch port this year (I played it on steam though).
Snack World
I was shocked upon starting Snack World as it is instantly incredibly charming, witty, and downright hilarious at times yet I heard almost zero people talk about it. EVER. This game is Dragon Quest levels of quirky though, and the localization is incredible. The game has such an oddball sense of humor that works really well with its presentation right down to the anime opening video that sings about the most bizarre things. Instead of the usual pump up song about the cool adventure ahead we get stuff like wanting to go out to a restaurant and eat pork chops.
The self aware/fourth wall breaking humor is just enough to be really funny, but doesn't overstay its welcome and always makes it work right in the context of the dialogue. And finally, just everything; with the menus, the name of side quests and missions, and the character dialogue -- are all just so witty and full of quirky humor. This is one hell of a charming and funny game and addictive to boot.
Trials of Mana
Trials of Mana has gone from one of those legendary unlocalized games, to one of the first major breakthroughs in fan translation, to finally getting an official English release complete with a fully 3D remake. In a lot of ways from a western perspective this game has had an incredible journey. As for this remake itself, I really found myself having tons of fun with it. I loved the graphics, and the voice acting while a bit on the cheaper side almost kind of adds to the charm since both the graphics and acting really give it an old PS2 vibe. I know that is probably just more me being weird but yeah, I had to say it.
I really hope Square Enix sticks to this style of remake more often, instead of just doing Final Fantasy VII Remakes that break the bank and involve extensive tweaking to both plot and game play. I’ll take smaller budget projects that play more like the original game any day personally. I wouldn’t mind if they also deliver a brand new Mana game all together in this engine either.
Utawarerumono Trilogy
This year saw the release of the first entry in the series, Utawarerumono: Prelude to the Fallen--and thus finally after three years since the sequels Utawarerumono: Mask of Deception and Utawarerumono: Mask of Truth came out in 2017 the trilogy is now complete in English. I ended up binging through Prelude to the Fallen very fast shortly after it came out and immediately jumped on to the sequels. Perhaps the best part of 2020 was that I finally played all three of these fantastic games, and did so back-to-back-to-back. Playing the first Utawarerumono was an experience I will never forget, it was like visiting old friends again that I haven’t seen in ages, by and large thanks to the fact that I saw the anime adaption of the game when I was much younger, nearly a decade ago. Back then I would have never of dreamed that I would get to play the actual game and get the real experience.
And it only got better from here, as all three games are such wonderful experiences from start to finish. The stories are all so deep, and by the time you get to the third entry, Mask of Truth, it’s crazy to see how they all connected over so many years and weaved together into a plot much bigger than they ever were. What carries it beyond all that though has to be the fun and addicting strategy role playing game aspect, which while a bit on the easy side, is still so much fun and helps make the game feel better paced since you get to play the conquests your characters go on and not just read about all the battles they fight. Beyond that the games are packed full of awesome characters, and I know I’ll never forget the amazing leads in all of them. Hakuowlo, Haku, and Oshtor will all go down as some of the greats to me.
Ys: Memories of Celceta
Ys: Memories of Celceta is a full 3D remake of Ys IV, a rather infamous game in Falcom’s Ys series. Not to get bogged down too much into the history of Falcom but by this point they were facing a lot of hardship and had to outsource this entry to other developers, and thus passed it on to two particular developers they had a business relationship with, creating two unique versions of Ys IV. Tonkin House who had worked on Super Famicom port of Ys III with Falcom ended up creating their own YS IV entry, Mask of the Sun for the very same system, where Hudson soft who had produced the much beloved Ys Books I & II remakes for the Turbografix (PC Engine) CD add-on created their own Ys IV entry Dawn of Ys for that console. Both games followed guidelines and ideas outlined from Falcom themselves but both radically diverged from each other and turned into completely different games.
Falcom finally putting an end to this debate on which version of Ys IV you should play have gone and created their own definitive Ys IV in 2012 for the Playstation Vita. I played the 2020 remastered version of this remake on my PS4. I even bought this on the Vita when it first came out but I am horrible and only horde games, never play them. So it was a lot of fun to finally play this.
Memories of Celceta is probably one of the best starting points for anyone looking to get into Ys, especially if you only want to stay with the 3D titles as out of all the 3D entries this explains the most about the world and series protagonist Adol Christian. Beyond that it’s just another fantastic entry in a wonderful series that has a few good twists hidden behind it, especially for long time fans of the series.
Random Video Game Console Stuff
Xbox Has Blue Dragon: I actually got an Xbox One this year for free from my brother. Because of that I started to play Blue Dragon again and there’s a lot I would love to say about this game. I don’t know if I am fully committed to replaying it all the way through however but I find myself putting in a couple hours every few days and enjoying myself again. Does anyone else remember Blue Dragon? I feel like it really missed its audience and had it come out nowadays and probably for the Switch it would have really resonated with the Dragon Quest fandom a lot more instead of being thrown out to die on Xbox and constantly compared to Final Fantasy VII and the like which it had nothing at all similar with.
The Turbografx 16 Mini: This was probably one of the best mini consoles that have come out and I feel like thanks to the whole 2020 pandemic thing it was largely forgotten about. That’s a shame, it has a wonderful variety of great games, especially if you count the Japanese ones (god I wish I could play the Japanese version of Snatcher included), and a wonderful interface with fantastic music. One of these days I would really like to be able to play around with the console more seriously than I have already.
Fire Emblem Shadow Dragon Never Existed: So Nintendo localized the first ever Fire Emblem game on Nintendo Switch which is awesome to see them touching Famicom games again--I haven’t seen Nintendo of America rerelease old Famicom titles since Mysterious Murasame Castle on the 3DS, but their trailer hilariously made it seem like this is the first time ever they released Fire Emblem when in fact they had already localized the remake Shadow Dragon on the Nintendo DS nearly 10 or 11 years ago. I and many other fans I talked to all found this really hilarious, probably solely because of how much they kept repeating the fact that this is the first time you will ever be able to experience Marth’s story.
All that aside though I have to say the collector edition for this newly localized Famicom game is probably the most gorgeous retro reproduction I have seen in a long time, and I really spent many many hours just staring at the all clear glass mock cartridge. I have found myself really obsessing over retro reproductions during 2020, and obtained quite a few this year. I really hope this trend continues to go on in 2021 as recreating classic console packaging and cartridges is a lot of fun.
#video games#collection of saga final fantasy legend#SaGa#SaGa I#SaGa II#SaGa III#Raging Loop#Root Double#Snack World#Trials of Mana#Seiken Densetsu 3#Utawarerumono#Ys#Ys IV#ys memories of celceta
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[TRANS] Jungwoo, Mark & Haechan’s interview with Star1 June 2020 issue!
It's the first time for you three to do a shoot together. It's a different combination. Mark: It's really nice that the warm weather is seen in the pictures and it was fun to shoot with this fresh combination. Jungwoo: I really like it because it seems like the chemistry between us was well shown. Haechan: It's been a very long time since I had a shoot so I was a little nervous but on the other hand, also excited. I think I had a lot of fun because I was together with the hyungs.
You finished all the promotions for the 2nd full album <NCT#127 NeoZone>, how was it? Jungwoo: We were able to show NCT 127's color clearly through the title song 'Kick It'. All the side tracks had a very diverse feel too, and the promotion period was very meaningful because, matching with the 'NCT 127' name, it seemed to represent a new NCT 127 well in the aspects of music, choreography, stage composition, and so on. Mark: It was a comeback after a long time with a full album, so as much as the fans waited for it, we worked hard in the preparations to show many good sides. Of course, it was a shame we couldn't meet the fans on the music shows. Haechan: So, during the repackage promotion period, we will try various ways to communicate with the fans.
You also achieved some great things during these promotions, in particular, ranking no.5 on the Billboard 200 Mark: The last album ranked at no.11, and to see that it gradually improved to rank no.5, I was even more proud and happy. It gave me a great sense of achievement. I was as grateful and as happy as much as it was the result of the feeling loved and receiving attention from around the world.
Soon, you will be making a comeback with the repackage album < NeoZone: The Final Round>, what kind of song is the title song 'Punch'? Haechan: It's a very hip and strong song. Also, it has an ambiance of feeling like a different song due to some elements that are in the middle, so it's a fun song to listen to. Jungwoo: As much as it is a title song, I put my all in it. There were many changes made during the preparations, including the recording process. We worked hard to make it complete. Mark: As much as 'Kick It' was well received by the fans, I think 'Punch' will be as well and will deliver the finishing blow.
In addition to 'Punch', there are also other new side songs, how is it different compared to the 2nd full album [NeoZone]? Haechan: First off, for the new songs on the repackage album, there is a new charming ballad song 'Make Your Day' and there is a song with a different feeling called 'NonStop'. You will be able to feel the diversity. Mark: That's right. 'Make Your Day' is a song where you will receive healing through the sweet voices of the vocal members. Jungwoo: It's a great song to listen to in the summer.
Then what is the key point of 'Punch'? Haechan: I think the chorus is the most memorable. It's repeated a lot, so I think it's nice when you listen to it excitingly. Jungwoo: I think 'Punch' [is the song with] the most killing parts. There are many parts that stick right to your ears. Please enjoy the killing part. Mark: Your ears might get hurt since it's addicting. haha
Is there something you want to show to the public through this album? Haechan: That I am really grateful for the support we received during 'Kick It' and that I was really happy. During the upcoming promotions too, I want to take that energy and show NCT 127's performance that will K.O. everyone. Of course, there are burdens when you receive great support, but regardless of the results, we are doing the best we can as always, so if you keep supporting us, we will show you our K.O. performance.
Was there ever a life changing "punch", if so when? Mark: As I was preparing for this song, I was reminded of the trainee days a lot. I was a trainee for almost three years, and I'm normally the type of person to beat myself down. I think that's when I threw [myself] the most “punches”. In order not to lose myself in front of the mirror I pushed myself and tried to overcome and grow. So while preparing for this song, I really related to it a lot. Jungwoo: I think it was during my debut for me. I was introduced for the first time during 'Boss'. I wanted to have an impact on many people so I really worked hard. When I think about it now, I didn't have to be so nervous, I was really worried. I am reminded of the time where I wanted to throw an impactful punch as big as I was nervous so I tried to double the effort.
What is a hot topic among NCT 127 lately? Mark: We're almost finished preparing for the repackage album, and all the members are working hard in perfecting the choreography. And we are also preparing for Beyond Live. Other than that, since the members are home a lot, we're getting into cooking more than ever (laughs). These days, Taeil hyung has really fallen for cooking. Once, when I returned home after practice, there was the smell of pasta coming from the dorm and it turns out that Taeil was making pasta by himself. I was even surprised at how delicious it was. haha
The world tour was also completed successfully Mark: It's hard to go overseas these days so I kinda miss it, and I often think about how nice it would be to tour soon again. It was a rare opportunity and a joyful journey. It's not easy to meet fans in person so it was a thing I'm really grateful for. It was also nice to eat a lot of delicious food with the members.
Is there a difference between preparing before the world tour and after? Mark: It's like, you know a lot after you've seen a lot. Aside from the stages, there were many things I felt. While meeting various cultures and people, our own team's unity has improved and our teamwork has gotten better too. There were a lot of physical challenges. Looking back after overcoming those hardships, all of them are beautiful memories. If you ask what's different or what has changed, it's that the teamwork has become better, and I think each member has gradually grown during the tour. Jungwoo: As expected personally, I think I grew a lot myself and it's true that I learned a lot while being on various stages. Instead of performing the same thing on each stage, I tried to change my facial expression and tried to change many things. Although we grew a lot as a team, I gained a lot of self-confidence too. To be honest, I was really nervous before leaving, but as I met a lot of fans from various countries I felt very grateful to be welcomed and supported. Haechan: My mindset has changed. Before I used to do a lot of things for 'the future'. After the world, I tend to focus on 'us'. We are working hard and having fun showing us and our way.
NCT 127 members are all skilled in various areas. If you could steal a talent from each other, what would it be? Haechan: Jungwoo hyung’s innocence. Haha. When Jungwoo hyung’s ‘Pure Beauty’ shines, that's when I get envious. I think Mark hyung’s biggest asset is consistency. Doing anything consistently is a skill in my opinion, so I’m envious of this side of Mark hyung. Jungwoo: As for me, Mark’s dancing skills or English? Haha. Mark: I already told Jungwoo before, but he has this special aura about him. I’m just very thankful to have him next to me. It’s a precious thing. Haha. Even in a stiff situation he can elevate the mood. It’s not that I want to take it from him, it’s just that I like it when he’s next to me like that.
What are the unexpected sides of the members? Haechan: Mark hyung is consistently good at everything. The only thing he can't do is gaming. He is really bad at gaming. I don't think he has any talent for gaming. Jungwoo: Also, Mark is surprisingly delicate and detailed. There might be some people who already know, but he is more delicate than you can imagine. Haechan: Jungwoo looks innocent and seems quiet, but surprisingly he has many sturdy/bold sides. He is the type of person where those two sides coexist. Although he is still shy in front of the fans, when he feels comfortable, he is more active and energetic. That's his unexpected side.
To me, NCT 127 is? Haechan: It’s the foundation of my growth. When I was with hyungs I could see a lot of aspects where I was lacking, but because hyungs helped me so much I think I was able to grow. Jungwoo: I think we make each other shine. When someone is lacking the others fill in the gaps, when it’s hard we help each other, I think. Mark: I think we became a team that are friends and hyungs for life. I’m very thankful that we became like friends not just in NCT 127, but in everyday life. Jungwoo: Right. Us meeting seems like fate. Mark: We were all born and raised in different places, how else would we meet as a team like this.
As half of 2020 has passed, what are your goals both goals personally and as an artist? Haechan: I want to be busy and work hard in 2020. As an artist I’d like for it to be a year where I improve internally or work on my skills. Jungwoo: As a team I’d like for us to be introduced to more fans and grow a lot through performances. I’m also looking forward to see the results. I also wish this would be the year when I progress and take care of myself a lot. Mark: I want to play music for even more fans and I also want approval. Wherever we go I want to show performances without embarrassment, without seeming lame when I look back later, I always want to work hard. I hope the members become more proud of themselves as they should, and that we promote happily too.
Translation: Esmee, Alex @ FY! NCT (NCTINFO) | Source: Star1 Scans — Do not repost or take out without our permission!
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Stress relief (Aziraphale x Reader x Crowley
A/N: Hi! It’s my first time posting here so I hope this works out. Do leave a comment if you have any advice or anything you’d like to share. If you leave aside that tha reader has a bra, then the gender is not specified.
Words: 3100-ish
It had been a really stressful week. Your colleague at your part-time job was sick so your boss had asked -more like, ordered- you to cover for her, which meant more shifts, which meant less time to study for the oncoming university exams, which meant that your anxiety and stress levels were rapidly increasing.
You just had a night shift, a stressful, long, boring night shift, waiting on rude and drunk customers and having to bear their behaviour with a smile on your face.
By the time you arrived at Aziraphale’s place, it was already 4 in the morning and your alarm was set to wake you up at 8, as you had to be at your university at 9.30 for the only oral exam you had this year. You quietly opened the door of the bookshop and tiptoed to the sofa in the backroom, not wanting to wake up the angel and the demon, if he had decided to spend there the night, and as soon as your head hit the headrest you fell asleep.
After barely four hours of restless sleep and almost none spent going through your notes, you entered the room where the exam was to take place and started exchanging a few words with your fellow students, some sharing information and some sharing your worries.
At 9.30 sharp, the professor entered the room with a colleague in tow to help him interview the large number of students. The problem was that, even though the number of students was high, the professor had the brilliant idea of NOT separating the exam in two different days and dividing the students between each day, so every student present was left wondering if they would even be able to get everything done that day or they had to come back the next one.
While waiting for your turn, you felt the phone vibrate in your pocket. You took it out and checked it to see a new text from Crowley.
C: Where are you?
(Y): At my university, I have an exam, remember?
C: Oh, yeah, that… When will you be done, again?
(Y): Wouldn’t it be great if I could answer you?
C: What?
(Y): I don’t know when I’ll be done, could be an hour, could be two, could be tomorrow for all I know.
C: What do you mean you don’t know?
(Y): It means ‘I do not know’.
You put your phone momentarily down to check how many students were left -way too many- and just listened to what kind of question were being asked, anxiety raising each time an answer that you should have known decided to flee from your head.
Your phone kept vibrating for a while as you kept trying to ignore it in favour of going through your notes for the millionth time, but in the end, you felt guilty and grabbed it again.
C: Well, tell me when you’re done.
C: Angel is upset he couldn’t see you off this morning.
C: Keeps saying how he wanted to wish you luck.
C: He’s been pacing for half an hour now ‘cause you’re not back yet.
Reading all his text made you relax a bit, stress and anxiety forgotten as you thought about your lovers, how you first met them at the bookshop, Crowley coming up behind you saying that you smelt strange -which initially greatly offended you-, how you found out that you were half demon and how they had helped you come to terms with it, all the ups and downs you went through trying to deal with the feelings you had for both of them until you finally confronted them, giving birth to your current relationship.
Your thoughts were interrupted again by the buzz of your phone. Thinking it was another text from your demon, you hastily opened it without checking the sender, the small smile on your face quickly disappearing when you read the content: it was from your boss.
B: (Y/N), I need you to take tonight’s shift.
You were not having it, today was your day off, he couldn’t just tell you that you had to come work out of the blue, especially when you had informed him that you had an important exam.
(Y): I am sorry, but I don’t think I will be able to come today as I do not know at what time I will be able to leave.
It seemed a quite reasonable excuse, as you really didn’t know at what time you would be done and even then, you would probably be too exhausted to remember not to be rude to customers.
You received another text and you quickly checked it.
C: You do know that you don’t even need to be there, right?
You sighed as you typed the answer, a bit annoyed since you had already had that same conversation at breakfast before your previous exams.
(Y): Do you really need an answer?
C: Just saying, you’re half demon, you don’t need a degree.
(Y): And as I always tell you, I’m half human, I’ve lived as a human for all my life and I’ll get this damn degree if it’s the last thing I do.
(Y): You can’t just expect me to throw away all these years of hard work.
(Y): Zira has his shop; you got your car. What do I have? I’m just an average student struggling to figure what they want to do with their future who just so happens to be half demon and who hasn’t had time to accomplish anything special.
For a while, the phone stayed silent and you turned your focus back on the professor and his assistant. It was almost 12.30, which meant lunch break, but just the idea of eating made you nauseous. As the time went by, you started regretting your little outburst, but you didn’t have the strength to apologize right then. The professor stood up and made his way out of the room after declaring that the exam would start again in an hour.
As you got up too, your phone vibrated again and you unlocked it.
C: You have me and Zira, love.
Your breath got caught in your throat. Where Aziraphale was quite the sweet talker, showering you with words of love, Crowley was more of a showing-through-actions kind of guy -well, demon- so it was rare for him to call you love. That’s why you knew that he really meant it and that’s why every time he said it your breath hitched and your heartbeat picked up the pace.
You slumped back on your seat and typed the answer.
(Y): I know and I am forever grateful to whoever decided to make you appear in my life. It’s just that this is one of my last exams, after that there’s graduation and then I can finally close this chapter of my life, my human life, and fully enjoy the new, incredible, amazing chapter that is you guys.
(Y): Sorry for the outburst there, I’m just a bit stressed, what with the exam and the lack of sleep. Let’s not forget my job!
(Y): I just can’t wait to be able to fully focus on my life with you. I love you guys, so so much. I can’t wait to see you after this.
You put your phone in your backpack and headed to the courtyard to get some fresh air and try to convince yourself that there was nothing to worry about as you did study, you did understand the subject and you would pass with a good grade.
It was almost time to head back into the room when your phone vibrated. You took it out of your backpack and stilled for a second: it was your boss calling, so, even though you really would have preferred ignoring it, you answered.
“Hello, this is (Y/N) (L/N).”
“You need to come in tonight.” he ordered with a harsh tone without even greeting back.
“I’m really sorry but, as I’ve already told you, I don’t think I can make it, they haven’t said when we’ll be done yet.” you answered trying to keep your calm.
“Either you come, or you’re fired.”
If finding another job was easy then you would have had no restraint and just let your mouth run without filters, speaking your mind without worrying too much. Unfortunately, it wasn’t easy so, with all the willpower you could muster, you tried to keep the conversation civilized.
“You can’t fire me for not coming in on my day off.”
“I can and I will if I don’t see you at 9 sharp.” he threatened and hung up.
“What?... ugh… I HATE him!” you half shouted, earning strange looks from the few students around you. You huffed and texted Crowley to let him know that you wouldn’t be able to join them for dinner and to not wait up for you. After that you turned off your phone and shoved it in the backpack, your mood completely ruined, hurrying to the classroom, not noticing the dark clouds that were gathering over your head.
It was 5 in the afternoon and you were still waiting for your turn. As you lazily glanced out the window, you finally noticed how dark the sky had become, darker than it should be at that time of the day. You started cursing the weather forecast guy for saying that it would be sunny and clear all day.
It was nearing the end of the day and the hope of being called was slowly disappearing, while the feeling of having wasted the day doing nothing but wait and worry began making its way to the forefront of your mind, along with the increasing anger at having to go to work when all you wanted to do was cuddle in bed with your angel and your demon boyfriends listening to the various situations they found themselves into, warm and safe in their embrace.
It was 6.30 and just as you were about to give up and leave, you heard your name being called. After the initial moment of shock and disbelief, wondering if you had heard correctly, you quickly made your way to the desk of the professor.
The questions seemed fairly easy, you answered all of them, but the never-changing expression of the man in front of you left you wandering if you had indeed answered correctly or not. After the last question, when you thought that the torture had finally ended and you would know whether you made it or not, the professor had another surprise for you.
“Very well. You will know your grade later this evening via e-mail.”
And with that, he started gathering his things and made his way out of the door, leaving a stunned you behind.
You stayed like that a few more seconds before recollecting yourself and checking the time.
It was 7 and soon the university would close, so you exited the building only to be met with so much rain pouring down that you wondered if God decided to drown humanity again.
You decided to head for your devilish boyfriend’s apartment, as it was closer, to take a quick shower and change your clothes. As you bravely took the first step out of the door, head tilted down to shelter your eyes, the rain that you expected to pour down on you never came.
You lifted your gaze to see a hand holding an umbrella over your head and finally the dark sunglasses hiding the yellow snake-eyes of the man the hand belonged to. The smile with which he greeted you made you want to crumble to the floor and just hug and keep him close.
“Figured you hadn’t an umbrella with you.” he told you with a small smirk.
Suddenly all words escaped your mind and you just hugged him, him embracing you with one arm and leaning down to place a kiss on your head. Relishing in his warmth, you whispered a soft ‘thank you’ and stayed there a few more seconds as he just kept hugging you, not forcing you to say anything.
When you finally pulled away, he smiled at you once more and led you to his Bentley. Once there you turned to him.
“Crow, can you take me to your place? I should still have some clothes there.”
Instead of answering, he just grinned like a child who knows they did something they shouldn’t have done, going the opposite way.
“Crowley, what are you doing? I have to be at work at 9.” you insisted.
“Not really.” he nonchalantly answered while narrowly avoiding a pedestrian.
You knew then and then that he had done something and that most likely you just had become jobless.
Having accepted it as a reality you sighed and calmly asked
“What have you done?”
“Let’s just say the you won’t need to go there anymore.”
‘Well, what’s done it’s done, I guess’ you thought, but there was still one problem: you weren’t heading for the bookshop either.
“Where are you taking me, then?”
Not to your surprise, he didn’t answer your question and limited himself to raising the volume when Bohemian Rhapsody came along.
After half an hour of reckless and aimless driving, you finally parked in front of the bookshop. You were confused but before you could even take one step inside, the demon stopped you, mad you turn around and quickly blindfolded you.
“What are you doing, Crowley?!” you whisper-shouted even more confused.
“Trust me.” he whispered in your ear, sending shivers down your spine, your cheeks heating up a bit.
“Trust a demon? Now that’s quite the request, isn’t it?” you asked, trying to hide your embarrassment.
He just chuckled as a response and began leading you on the path to what your feet memorised as the room they had previously miracled for you. As you approached the room, you could hear the light shuffle of footsteps and feel the fire’s warmth enveloping you.
Crowley stopped you and took off your blindfold. In front of you, in the middle of the room stood your angel, a warm smile adorning your face. As soon as he opened his arms you jumped straight into his loving embrace, soon joined by the snake, sandwiching you between the two celestial beings, engulfing you in their love.
You all pulled back and Crowley made you sit on the blanket and cushions covered floor.
“Would you like a cup of hot chocolate, love?” Aziraphale asked while pointing at the two mugs standing on the small coffee table in front of you, next to a bottle of red wine.
“Yes, definitely, thank you Zira.” you thanked him, grabbing one of the mugs.
They then sat near you and for a while you just chatted a bit while sipping on chocolate, your boyfriends careful not to mention the happenings of the day.
When you finished the chocolate, your mood the best it’d been in a while, the atmosphere was momentarily interrupted by your phone ringing. You sighed and looked at your lovers, silently asking permission to go check. After they assured you that it was alright, you forced yourself to stand up and go. You did so silently and just as silently you put your phone back down after turning it off and turned around with an unreadable expression on your face.
Worried, your boyfriends approached you, sharing a look.
“What’s wrong, dear?”
Hearing the angel’s concerned voice, you snapped back to reality and after looking at the both of them you beamed.
“I did it! I passed!” you exclaimed before throwing yourself at them.
They relaxed and congratulated you, the serpent saying that he knew you had nothing to worry about while Aziraphale patted your head. You went back to the cushions you were sitting on previously with your angelic boyfriend while Crowley headed out of the room, claiming that he was going to get some more wine to celebrate.
“Love, don’t take it the wrong way, but may I ask you to remove your shirt?”
Now, that was an unusual request from the principality, but after looking at him with eyes wide in surprise and him explaining that it wasn’t what you thought with reddened cheeks, you complied with his demand. He made you lay on your stomach just as you heard Crowley make his way into the room again.
He set what you assumed to be the bottles on the table and passed one to Aziraphale, only that, from what you could see, it was too little to be a bottle of wine. As you were wondering, you felt warm fingers on your back as they gently unclasped your bra. You turned your head ready to ask what was going on to the demon, but when you opened your mouth you gasped at a cold liquid being poured on your back.
Crowley chuckled and watched as realization came across your features and when the angel’s hands began working their magic, he witnessed how you melted, relaxing completely. He soon tugged your pants, wanting to join in on the pleasure-giving work of Aziraphale.
And there you were, only in your underwear and with two pair of hands on your body releasing all the knots the stress had created, your mind in a stated in-between consciousness and dreamland. They kept up the good work until they considered their mission a complete success. Slowly, you felt their hands leaving your body, a small whine escaping your lips, making the beings above you chuckle a bit.
“Don’t worry.” Aziraphale whispered while helping you get up from your relaxed position.
As you were trying to clasp back your bra, Crowley leaned in, kissing you just below your ear.
“I know another way to release your stress.” he said, kissing along your neck and finishing with a bite that promised more to come.
“Well, I can’t wait.” you answered as you tried to stand up only to stumble back down again, your legs feeling like jelly.
“…though, I fear that you’ll have to carry me, your massage left me boneless.”
Your lovers chuckled, the serpent smirking a bit, and Aziraphale proceeded to pick you up and carry you princess style. As you reached your shared bedroom, he gently laid you on the bed.
Useless to say that you didn’t have much sleep that night either but, as you woke up between your lovers, you felt all tiredness leave your body, filling it with love for the ones who turned your life in a beautiful unpredictable mess.
“I love you.” you whispered softly to the sleeping beings.
“We love you too.” they answered back wrapping their arms around you.
#good omens#aziraphale x reader x crowley#aziraphale x reader#crowley x reader#stress#gender not specified#student!reader#caring crowley#caring aziraphale
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Oh So Many Years: Ch. 9 - Just A Little Bit
Pairing: Hermione Granger x Fred Weasley
Summary:
With Hermione and Harry's friendship mended, and her bond with the twins, strengthening, Hermione finds herself looking up. The only thing left to do is fix Ron's attitude and keep herself from throttling Rita Skeeter the next time she sees her.
Fred and George have found relief in both Hermione's help and her friendship. Unfortunately, as a result they've been neglecting their other friends and someone isn't too shy to point it out to them.
Warnings: Swearing, Death, Smut/18+ NSFW
Author’s Note:
I update every week before midnight on Sundays (US MST)! Please feel free to like, comment, and reblog! xoxo
Masterlist
<< Chapter 8
Oh, no I'm not the one, oh, you can ignore I'm not like those you had before Oh, hell no
“It’s just absolutely ridiculous, right?”
“Are you still on about that?” George asked, his tone laced with practiced boredom as he laid on his back in front of the fire in the Gryffindor common room. He had somehow come into possession of a quaffle and was repeatedly tossing it in the air and catching it, occasionally passing it to Fred when the mood struck.
“Yes, I am still on about it! How anyone could read this garbage and believe it, I will never know.” Hermione threw the quill she’d been writing with onto the desk, ink blotting across her parchment, and picked up the Daily Prophet once again. An avid reader of the wizarding newspaper, Hermione never gave much thought as to whether the stories of journalist Rita Skeeter were true or not. However, as she stared at the words printed across the page for the hundredth time, she questioned whether the woman had ever written anything factual in her life. Harry had told her about the disastrous interview the night before – Rita Skeeter’s devious smile, the basic lack of attention, her casual yet inappropriate flirtations, and her Quick Note’s Quill scribbling away all the while. Therefore, it hadn’t surprised her when the article portrayed a weepy yet confidently disillusioned Harry Potter pouring his soul out and then boasting on his magical prowess. What did surprise her, though, were the last few sentences.
“…Harry Potter’s close friend, Collin Creevey, has informed us that the young Triwizard participant can regularly be found in the company of a Miss Hermione Granger – a pretty muggle born fourth year. While officially their relationship has not been confirmed, it’s hard to deny the tell-tale signs of young love,” Hermione read, her voice raising to a shout by the end. Folding the paper, she threw it aside once more, this time as far out of her reach as humanly possible. Whirling through the air, the heavy paper made contact with an unsuspecting first year walking by. Hermione winced and gave the boy an embarrassed apology before picking up her wand and cleaning the ink from her assignment. She looked at the contents of her notes thus far and huffed. The words blurred together, her anger resulting in an altogether apathetic state for anything that wasn’t the infuriating article. Turning her head, she glared at Collin Creevey from across the room as he sat in the corner with his brother and a few other younger Gryffindors. They chatted away, playing the perfect role of innocence.
“Hermione—” Harry gave her a pleading look “—could you please just let it go?” He placed a hand gently on her forearm. At that moment, two third year girls walking past, spotted the placement of his hand, and hurried past, whispering and giggling to each other. Harry removed his hand quickly, grimacing. Hermione sighed, taking a moment to think about how this affected not just herself but Harry as well. Whispers and pointing she could deal with but lies were intolerable. It was just so…immoral! However, she imagined all Harry wanted was for all of this to disappear, to forget about it, and to be able to go back to some form of normalcy. She leaned back in her chair. If she could do anything for him at that moment, it would be to do as he asked.
“Alright, I’ll let it go. But don’t think I won’t give this Skeeter woman a piece of my mind when I finally meet her.” She sat forward and began writing out her study guide for transfiguration again.
“I wouldn’t expect anything less,” Harry said in amusement, before turning back to his own work.
Unlike George, Harry and Hermione sat at a table adjacent to the fire accompanied by Fred. Harry was working on an extra paper given to him by Professor Snape after his abysmal duel with Malfoy. Hermione was working on transfiguration, and Fred on his latest product. It was another sweet, similar to their Ton-Tongue Toffee, but ultimately very different. Earlier that night at dinner, Fred and George had ran into the Great Hall flushed with excitement. They pulled her away from the Gryffindor table and into the adjoining corridor, ignoring Hermione’s questions and feeble attempts to pull her wrist from Fred’s grasp. Once out of earshot from their curious peers, they began to bombard her with their latest and greatest idea – Canary Creams. Fred insisted that the idea would be hilarious, a sweet that when eaten, turned the person into a giant canary bird.
Silently, Fred slid his notebook on top of Hermione’s work and pointed to a list of possible wand movements and an incantation to charm the sweets. It really was a tricky thing when you thought about it. Sure, some sweets were already available that caused physical changes to their consumer, but none that she knew performed full form transfiguration. Pairing transfiguration, charms work, and potions was no easy feat. To successfully develop a Canary Cream, they had to produce a lasting charm that utilized transfiguration elements to result in a temporary transformation of the whole body from human to aviary. It was, to put it lightly, difficult.
George had helped early on with the charms aspect of the spell, but now they needed Hermione’s help with the transfiguration part – a subject, lucky for them, she was well versed in. Closely, she surveyed the work and found herself quite impressed. The incantation seemed to be correct and the wand movements as well, except there was just something about them that was…off. Mentally, she visualized the movements and when it finally came to the last movement, she realized the mistake. Dipping her quill into her ink, she crossed off the last tap and replaced it with a flick and then a tap, before sliding the notebook back to him. Fred shook his long ginger hair from his face and assessed the changes she made as Hermione returned to her own work. Looking down at her papers, she tried to find where she left off.
“What’s this for?” Fred whispered. Turning towards him, Hermione was caught off guard to find the boy so close, leaning towards her and pointing at her correction.
Blinking a few times, she answered, “You do want them to be human sized canaries, correct?”
Fred stared at her for a moment, and then back down at the paper before smiling. “Yeah, I suppose we do. I knew there was a reason we asked you to help.”
“If I remember correctly, I volunteered. Should I be regretting that?” Hermione teased.
“Don’t you dare Granger,” responded Fred with a wink. Heat pooled on Hermione’s face and she nervously grinned back, unsure of what to say. Fred spoke again, “Are you sure it will only be temporary?”
“What are you guys working on?” Harry asked. Hermione jumped, pulling back from Fred and the notebook they’d been piled over.
“N-nothing! I’m just helping Fred with his studies. He’s struggling in quite a few of his subjects, so he asked me to tutor him,” she lied. “Isn’t that right Fred?” She turned to him with a sweet smile.
Fred glared back at her, but ultimately cleared his throat and looked to Harry before speaking, “Yeah, I asked Granger to help me. But don’t worry Harry. It’s strictly professional. Wouldn’t want you to think I was trying to steal your girlfriend from you.” He ended his sentence with a cheeky grin. Hermione responded the only way she knew how – by kicking him in the shin under the table.
“Ow!” Fred reached under the table, and rubbing his leg. “Did you just kick me, Granger?” he asked, his long hair falling into his eyes.
“Yes, and you very well deserved it.”
Fred looked to Harry for support but only met his grinning face and a shrug of his shoulders. He then looked to his twin, still lounging on the floor but much more interested in the conversation.
“Don’t look at me, I think you always deserve a good kick in the shin,” said George, chucking the quaffle to his brother. Fred caught it easily.
“Some good friends you are,” Fred grumbled throwing the quaffle back to George before they all let out a few good-humored chuckles.
“I’d say they’re better friends to you than they are to me.” The voice took them by surprise. Looking to the portrait entrance, Hermione saw Ron, having just entered the common room to find the four enjoying themselves without him.
“Do you have a problem, mate?” Harry asked, his voice stony.
“I’m not your mate,” Ron responded, a touch on the dramatic side in Hermione’s opinion.
“Well if you’re not my mate then I guess you can just piss off. Yeah?” added Harry lightly, turning back to his work. Hermione looked between the two, feeling incredibly uncomfortable and unsure of what to do. Ron gave her a nasty glare before turning to his brothers.
“You two can’t possibly believe him, can you?”
“Yeah, we do,” Fred and George answered in unison. George sat up properly, tucking the quaffle under his arm.
“He may be the Boy Who Lived—” started George.
“—but he’s not nearly bright enough to put his name into the goblet,” Fred finished.
“Sorry mate!” the two called over to Harry who merely shrugged, finding no offense in the statement.
“What happened to family loyalty?” Ron asked his older brothers, a hurt expression on his face.
“I think there’s a ‘being a complete prat’ contingency to that concept, brother. Besides, Harry’s family too.” George stood and stretched before tossing the quaffle at Ron, who caught it unenthusiastically.
Ron turned to Hermione now. “Guess I know why you always take Harry’s side. Thought you two would at least have the decency to let me in on the secret. But I guess there’s a lot of things you don’t tell me.”
Hermione opened her mouth to argue, but before she could get a word out Ron continued, “Doesn’t matter though, everyone else agrees with me anyways.” With a final glare, he turned and headed towards the boys’ dormitories, ridding himself of the quaffle on the way.
The common room was silent after Ron’s departure. Hermione realized that everyone had stopped to listen in on the dramatic scene. She really wished they hadn’t. One look at Harry and she knew he was wishing the same thing. His shoulders were hitched all the way up to his ears and his face was unnecessarily close to his parchment. The quiet weighed on Hermione like a thick and heavy blanket. She returned to her work, but the more she stared at the pages of her book, the more uncomfortable she became. Every fiber of her being wanted to storm up those stairs and give Ronald a piece of her mind, but she was worried she didn’t have the strength. Then something Fred had said to her in the hospital wing rang clearly in her mind, giving her the strength, she needed: …there’s nothing for you to be afraid of. You’re more badass than I could ever be.
She rose, pushing back her chair. Harry, Fred, and George looked at her.
“If you’ll please excuse me,” she said politely, turning on her heel and heading towards the stairs that led up to the boys’ dormitories. She had only been in Harry and Ron’s room twice before, but she still knew the way. She climbed the spiral stairs in a fury, having no idea what she was about to say, but knowing she needed to say something. Her period of silence with Ronald Weasley had to end. Coming to the dormitory door, she pushed it open, not even bother to knock as anger and determination fueled her actions.
“Bloody hell Hermione!” Ron exclaimed, covering his bare chest. He was standing in the middle of the room clad only in his pants, trousers and shirt strewn aside in a pile, as he uncomfortably shifted. His face and chest were red as a cherry tomato, flushed in embarrassment, but he glared at her all the same. Hermione coughed, caught off guard by his state of undress. She had never seen Ron without his shirt, let alone his trousers. Trying not to focus on the freckles that spattered his chest, the flush that now covered her face, or the strange tug in the pit of her stomach, she pushed past the awkwardness of the situation and continued on with what she originally intended to do. Looking to her left she noticed Neville was also present in the room, confused and uncomfortable. She smiled sweetly at him.
“Neville, would you please excuse Ronald and I for a few minutes?”
The pudgy blonde boy nodded quickly and jumped from his bed, fleeing the room in a full run.
“Hermione, what are you doing in my room?!” Ron asked in a yell.
Hermione took a deep breath. “I’ve come to make peace. To have a heart-to-heart as they say…” Casually but with purpose she strolled further into the room, past Ron, to sit on the edge of his bed.
“Now? While I’m sodding naked?”
Hermione rolled her eyes, starting to feel normalcy return at Ron’s thickness. “Well put some clothes on if it’s so important to you, but yes, now.”
Ron stared at her, frozen where he stood. When he failed to move, she raised her eyebrows and tilted her head insistently, urging him to hurry up. Ron scurried to his trunk and pulled on a pair of striped bottoms and a vibrant orange Chudley Cannon’s shirt, before plodding over to sit next to her on the bed. He pulled his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around his legs, closing himself off to her and the world around him.
“What?” Ron stubbornly asked, avoiding her gaze.
“I think I deserve an apology from you,” said Hermione bluntly.
Ron looked up at her in surprise. “I need to apologize to you?!”
“Yes. You do—” Hermione stayed strong, squaring her shoulders “—Ronald, we have been friends for nearly four years. More importantly you and Harry have been best friends for just as long. Have we once ever lied to you? Deceived you? Betrayed you? Not supported you?”
Ron didn’t answer. Instead he looked down, resting his forehead against his knees.
“No, we haven’t—" she went on “—Now I don’t know what’s exactly been said or not said between you and Harry, and it’s not really my business. All I know is that when you accuse me of not being a good friend to you, it hurts. I’ve done my best to try to support you and Harry as I see fit. And that support involves believing and trusting you both when you tell me something. So, when Harry tells me he didn’t put his name in the goblet…I believe him. Because he’s my friend and until he does something to make me not trust him, I will continue to trust him. I’m not ‘siding’ with him to spite you and honestly this whole story you’ve concocted, that we’re conspiring against you, makes you sound like an absolute loon.” Hermione finished her speech and tucked her own legs up to her chest, hoping Ronald would respond to what she said with reason. When he didn’t automatically bite her head off or demand she leave his room, she let out a deep breath of relief.
She watched as Ron’s mouth scrunched up in conflict, his long hair covering his eyes and most of his emotion, until finally, he spoke, “I know you two aren’t plotting against me.”
Hermione looked at him in confusion.
“Well I mean, I guess at first I thought you were, but now not really. It’s just not fair. No one likes to be second, especially to Harry Potter. Harry Potter’s stupid friend…”
Hermione’s heart broke. She unwrapped herself and scooted sideways, pulling Ronald into a tight hug. He stiffened at the contact for a moment and then relaxed. They had never been physically close, the way she and Harry were, but Hermione felt this situation called for it.
“You’re not Harry Potter’s stupid friend, Ronald. You may not see it, but you’re worth a lot more than you realize. Are you a bit lazy when it comes to schoolwork? Sure—” they chuckled at her comment “—but you are not stupid.”
She pulled back, looking into Ron’s eyes for the first time in weeks. “You know, I think if he could, Harry would switch places with you in a second. Fame isn’t always a good thing.”
Ron nodded and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her into his side. Hermione rested her head on his shoulder and felt the heavy weight of Ron’s head atop hers.
“I’m sorry Hermione,” he mumbled sincerely, slightly begrudgingly, but sincerely, nonetheless. Hermione smiled. Despite his bullheaded nature and obnoxious tendencies, Ron really did have a big heart. She was warmly reminded for a brief moment why, despite all his character flaws, she possessed an affection for him.
“So, how are you going to make things up with Harry?” She perked up, breaking the nice serenity of their resolution with their next challenge. Ron sighed in frustration.
“I don’t know,” Ron said, dropping his arm off her and rubbing his face.
Hermione hopped off the bed. “Well, do it on your own time, I suppose, but try not to take too long. Harry’s going to need the both of us this year.”
Ron stood as well and walked her to the door, nodding in agreement. Hermione pulled the door open and turned, looking over Ron’s kind face. A moment of impulse and Lavender’s nagging words to make a lasting impression took over and before she knew it, she was lifting onto her tip toes and placing a quick peck on Ron’s cheek. She watched as Ron brought a hand up to where her lips had touched, his cheeks turning a shade of pink under his fingertips. Throats cleared from behind her and Hermione turned, finding the twins standing in the stairwell, arms crossed and smirking. They had obviously been snooping.
“Goodnight Ronald,” said Hermione quickly, closing the door in his face and turning towards the twins in annoyance.
“Is this the young love Skeeter was talking about then?” asked George amusedly.
Hermione rolled her eyes, answering in irritation, “Get an earful then?”
“Nah, couldn’t really hear through the door,” George admitted in disappointment.
“Too thick,” added Fred.
“You know, we really should invent something for that,” mused George, looking to his brother.
“I’ll start whipping up the schematics tonight,” bit Hermione sarcastically as she pushed past them and headed down the stairs. She found Harry right where she left him and sat back down in her seat. Neither said anything as she picked up her quill and got back to work. They sat there for quite some time until Harry finally broke the silence. She wasn’t sure how late it was, but the fire was beginning to burn low and they were the only two left in the common room.
“I got a letter from Padfoot last week,” he informed her. Hermione perked up at the news, hoping that something good would come from Harry’s godfather.
“What did he say?” she asked, setting down her quill and rearranging her notes.
“Not much—” Harry ran a hand through his unruly hair “—he wants to talk on the twenty-second. Guess he doesn’t trust sending letters anymore.”
Sirius Black, also affectionately known as Padfoot, had great reason to be untrusting of the mail as he was currently still on the run from the Ministry of Magic. Accused of a crime he did not commit, it was barely a year ago he used his Animagus form to break out of Azkaban, the wizarding prison. Then through a series of incredibly complicated and confusing events (some of which included time travel), she and Harry helped him make his overall escape on the back of a hippogriff.
“Talk? How are you going to talk?” Hermione asked, placing her things into her book bag. Surely Sirius wasn’t planning on coming onto the school grounds. With ministry officials scurrying around for the tournament, Hogwarts was a risky place to be. The whole country of England wasn’t a safe place for him really.
“I don’t know. He just said to be in the common room at one in the morning,” admitted Harry as he collected his things as well. Hermione frowned.
“Well I just hope he doesn’t plan on putting himself in danger of getting caught or seen,” she said, looking purposefully at her best friend.
“I just hope he has some advice on how to not die this year in the tournament,” said Harry. Hermione bit her lip and something tugged sharply in her chest. She reached across the table and placed a hand atop Harry’s.
“Harry James Potter, you are not going to die. Not if I have anything to say about it,” Hermione proclaimed the fact with so much conviction, she surprised even herself. Harry looked at her though his round glasses, his green eyes scanning her face. For what? Sincerity? Truth? Answers? Hermione did not know, but what she did know was that she wasn’t going to let Harry down. Her breakthrough with Ronald was only the first step. He placed his other hand over hers and gave her a tight smile. Hermione blinked rapidly, fighting the tears that threatened to spill down her face. After a moment they stood and left the common room to their respective dormitories. Not another word was needed.
Fred sat at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall eating his lunch. He thought there must have been some greater power looking out for him today because they were serving his favorite – shepherd’s pie. The day had been a rough one so far and the little comfort that came from his favorite food was enough to take the edge off. That morning, after another futile attempt to catch a visiting Ludo Bagman, he and George had gone over their inventory and funds. Needless to say, it was depressing. Turns out they needed the money Ludo owed them more than they thought. They were for all intents and purposes, broke. The advertisement they sent out for had profited quite well, but with their mother’s raid before the start of term, their supply was limited and soon they would no longer be able to supply products to keep up with demand. He and George wagered they could make a larger profit off of new and exciting products, but they really only had a few sickles and knuts for pocket money. The whole situation left them with one option.
“Harry—" Fred spoke, catching the attention of the dark-haired fourth year “—mind being a dear and letting Georgie and me borrow Hedwig?” He watched as Harry swallowed his sip of pumpkin juice and wipe his mouth with the back of his sleeve.
“Uh, sure. What for?”
“That my dear boy—” smirked George “—is classified.”
“Really on a need to know basis,” Fred added, sniffing importantly.
“You know, I think I’d rather not know actually. But sure, she’s up in the owlery. Just make sure you bring her a treat, or she’ll be put out for a while and I’ll have to pay the price,” Harry informed them before stuffing a forkful of mashed potatoes in his mouth. It was at that moment Fred spotted a flushed and chipper Hermione entering the Great Hall. Her hair was especially full and bouncy as she skipped towards them, her cheeks and nose a soft pink hue. Fred imagined she would be in a better mood today after what he could only imagine was a reconciliation between her and Ron last night.
“Good afternoon,” she greeted the lot of them cheerfully, setting her bag down and sitting next to Harry.
“What’s got you all pink? Just come from a hot snogging session?” George asked cheekily. Hermione’s face transitioned from its soft pink to a brilliant red. Lifting her nose up in indignation, she trained a disapproving look on George.
“If you must know, I’ve just come from Hagrid’s—” she loaded the plate in front of her with shepherd’s pie and vegetables “—he had me over for tea, and so naturally I’m starving.”
Harry snorted, shooting pumpkin juice across the table. Fred cried in despair as the last of his lunch became covered in regurgitated liquid.
“Gross mate,” said George, scrunching up his face as he wiped his wet cheek with his robes.
“Sorry,” coughed Harry sheepishly.
“Did you see the new notice on the bulletin board this morning?” asked Hermione. They all shook their heads. She rolled her eyes, obviously annoyed they didn’t keep rigorously up to date with the daily affairs of the school like she did. Fred watched hypnotically as Hermione tucked her hair behind her ear and took a bite of her food. He concentrated on the odd way her nose scrunched ever so slight when she chewed, almost like she was intrigued by the taste alone. Hermione had a very small nose. Not in a disproportionate way, but in a very pleasing way, he decided. Thin across the bridge, it’s up-turned end pointed ever so delicately into the air. It was also spattered with freckles, much like his own but not quite as obvious. From far away you’d never see them, but as you got closer, you’d notice the light patterns of golden brown that adorned the bridge spreading under her eyes.
“Earth to Freddie!” George bellowed in Fred’s ear.
Fred jumped, covering his assaulted ear drum. “What?!”
“I was saying they just put out the announcement that next weekend is a Hogsmeade weekend. I thought maybe we could all go!” Hermione proposed for the second time.
“Or do you prefer to sit and stare at Hermione all day like a twat?” George asked.
Fred frowned at his brother. “I wasn’t staring. I was simply lamenting over the fact that I have to buy Granger a week’s supply of sugar quills.” Luckily, they were a very cheap sweet, thought Fred.
Hermione smiled sweetly, but Fred caught the devilish glint in her eye he was becoming very familiar with.
“I don’t know Hermione—” said Harry “—you might have to go without me.”
“Why?” she asked, her face falling. Fred watched Harry lean in and whisper something to Hermione. She pulled back and nodded, her face a mask of concern and understanding. Leaning back in, it was her turn to whisper something to him – information that he and George were not privy to. Her small hand reached up from under the table and landed on Harry’s upper arm as they pulled back smiling. Obviously, they had come to some kind of agreement that both were happy with. Fred felt an odd sensation wash over him as he watched the two engage in their private conversation. It was the same feeling he got in the hospital wing with Angelina and again when he watched Hermione kiss his little brother on the cheek.
If he didn’t know any better, watching this interaction, he might have believed Rita Skeeter’s accusation that her and Harry were entangled. He shook his head, clearing his mind of the strange route his thoughts had taken. Glancing down the table his little sister, Ginny, was sat next to Neville Longbottom and a few of her friends, laughing and gossiping as they ate. Just past them sat a group of first years looking over a copy of Seeker Weekly, and then further down were Lee, Alicia, Katie, and Angelina. The first three seemed to be engaged in an excited conversation. Lee was lecturing Katie on something with a tired look on his face while Katie shook her head and brought a hand up to her brow. Alicia watched the two, grinning as she stifled a laugh. But the last, Angelina, was looking at him. As their eyes connected, he gave a small friendly smile. However, he was not greeted with a smile in return like he expected. Instead she stood abruptly from the table and headed towards the exit to the Great Hall.
Fred stood too. “I’ll catch you later Georgie. Gotta’ go take care of something.”
He didn’t wait for a response as he raced out of the Great Hall to catch up with Angelina. He found her not too far down the corridor.
“Angelina! Hey, wait up!” called Fred, jogging towards her. Angelina stopped and turned, waiting for him to close the distance between them. From her crossed arms and scowl, Fred could tell she was upset. “What’s the matter? What’s wrong?” he asked, placing a hand on her cheek.
She brushed him off. “Nothing,” responded Angelina, pushing her dark braids over one shoulder, and looking away from him. However, Fred could tell from the tone in her voice that there was in fact, something wrong.
“Come on. Don’t lie to me Angie. You can tell me. What’s wrong?” implored Fred as he reached out his hand again and pulled her face towards his, coaxing her to look at him.
“Oh, now you’re here for me? How nice of you to actually pay me the time of day,” bit the athletic chaser. Her reaction struck Fred dumb. Is she mad at me? he wondered in utter bewilderment.
“What have I done?!” he asked defensively. Just then a group of Hufflepuffs rounded the corner, casting sideways glances at the quarreling couple. Angelina grasped Fred’s wrist, pulling him from out of the middle of the corridor and tucking them into a small alcove.
“We haven’t spoken in weeks! You’re always too busy hanging out with Granger and Potter to spend time with any of your friends,” accused Angelina, chewing on the inside of her cheek, and shifting her weight from foot to foot. A pang of guilt rushed through Fred. He ran a hand through his hair and let out a puff of breath. Now that he thought about it, he hadn’t really hung out with any of his usual friends in a while. Lee, he saw nearly every day as they shared a room, but he couldn’t remember the last time he spoke to any of them for more than a few minutes. He looked back at the girl in front of him to begin his apology but before he could, Angelina continued.
“Look, I’m going to ask you something and I want you to just answer me honestly. I won’t freak out or anything, just be honest—” Angelina took a deep breath “—do you maybe have a crush…or something on someone?”
“What?” asked Fred.
“You know? Like on Granger or…whatever?”
“Her—Granger, she’s just a friend. She’s been having a bit of a hard go of it lately, you know, with Ron and Harry off their rockers. George and I sort of took it as our responsibility to look after her. But you know, as friends. She’s a cool girl and I like her alright, but just as a friend. Only a friend. That’s it,” said Fred, feeling dizzy at just how many times he used the word ‘friend’. It was as he repeated the word, however, that he wondered just how true it was. He hadn’t ever really thought of Granger in that way. Perhaps that fact alone meant they were just friends. Angelina seemed unconvinced.
“As for not spending time with you—” Fred went on “—I’m sorry. We haven’t actually been spending all our time with Granger. Mostly George and I have been working on our joke shop stuff. We’ve hit a couple of roadblocks you see.” He let out a frustrated sigh as he thought about the lack of money and dwindling supplies.
Angelina’s expression softened. “I guess I’m just used to having you all to myself. It’s been hard to adjust what with quidditch being canceled and everything…” said Angelina. Fred smiled knowing that was probably the closest he’d ever get to hearing Angelina admit she was wrong.
“You know, Hogsmeade weekend is coming up. How about you and I spend it together?”
“Really?”
“Yeah, it’ll be fun.”
“Okay,” Angelina smiled sweetly.
“Are we good then?” asked Fred. He watched as Angelina’s smile turned into a playful smirk.
“Yeah, we’re good. But we have a lot of catching up to do.” With that statement she grabbed his wrist again and started pulling him down the corridor.
“Where are we going?” Fred asked dumbly.
“To catch up. I was thinking it’s been a while since we paid a visit to our secret passageway.”
“Oh—” said Fred and then realization struck “—Oooooohh! Oh, you saucy minx.” And with that his pace quickened till the two of them were practically running towards poor Gregory the Smarmy.
Chapter 10 >>
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@theworldisugly-22
#fremione#fred x hermione#fred weasley#hermione granger#romance#friends to lovers#slow burn#mutual pining#hogwarts#fan fic#fanfiction
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Summer’s a Knife - Chapter 5
Catch up on Chapter 4 here
“No, nothing’s wrong,” You hear him exhale smoke, his breath making noise in the microphone. “We got booked to do a show for one of the big rock stations in L.A..”
You realize now he’s looking for someone to share in his good news. “That’s amazing!”
“Right, it’s awesome. But here’s the thing: they’re not selling any of the tickets to the public. It’s gonna be all contest and giveaway shit. So the team needs a headcount as soon as possible for the guest list so we set aside enough tickets. So if you and Mary and Theo were wanting to see us live, here’s your chance.”
You blink, stunned at the twist the conversation had taken. “Guest list?”
or
Van’s back in L.A., and you cancel all your plans to see him perform for the first time.
A/N: It’s been four weeks of posting this!! Whether you’ve been following from the beginning or are binge reading it now, thank you for making this story I’ve put so much blood, sweat, and tears into a part of your day ❤️
Word count: ~9.2k
Chapter Five May 2019
The morning after the party is the last time you see Van while he’s in L.A.. For the rest of his trip, his schedule is packed with studio time and meetings in preparation for the album launch.
You finally follow the band on Instagram, although you shy away from following the boy’s personal accounts. Their relationship with social media didn’t seem to be the strongest, and you figured one of Van’s random flings following all of them probably wouldn’t send the best message.
The night of the album release they post a black and white photo of a pile of albums and vinyls to mark the occasion. You text Van the next morning, when it’s officially out, simply: Congrats on The Balance!!
Thaaaanks, Van sends back, Buzzing over it!
Each day you watch their feed fill with new posts promoting live shows. They announce tour dates so often it makes your head spin. Peppered amongst event announcements are videos of Van singing enthusiastically into a microphone, always promoting one of the different singles. You watch them more times than you’d care to admit.
Your conversation thread with him runs dry. You try to send him something here or there, to keep things going, but Van isn’t the best at a consistent reply. You try to convince yourself he’s tired from work, or the time difference is hard to maintain, but your brain can’t help but insist he’s busy with someone else.
That’s why two weeks after release day, when your phone lights up on the kitchen counter with a phone call from Van, you practically faint.
“Hello?” You respond hesitantly. You two have never called each other. You’re convinced he’s dialed you by accident.
“Whatcha doing?” Van asks down the line, his voice breezy.
“Um, cooking dinner,” You say, still confused.
“What’s for dinner?”
“Uh, lasagna…” You peek inside the oven to make sure it’s cooking alright. “It’s in the oven right now.”
“Sounds class.”
“Yeah…” You trail off, unsure why this warranted a phone call. “What are you up to?”
“Having a cig real quick. But I got an email from our team and I wanted to talk to you.”
Instantly, your mind flashes to the worst case scenario. Was this about Instagram? Had you done something wrong? You hadn’t even posted anything!
“Is something wrong?” You press, when Van doesn’t continue.
“No, nothing’s wrong,” You hear him exhale smoke, his breath making noise in the microphone. “We got booked to do a show for one of the big rock stations in L.A..”
You realize now he’s looking for someone to share in his good news. “That’s amazing!”
“Right, it’s awesome. But here’s the thing: they’re not selling any of the tickets to the public. It’s gonna be all contest and giveaway shit. So the team needs a headcount as soon as possible for the guest list so we set aside enough tickets. So if you and Mary and Theo were wanting to see us live, here’s your chance.”
You blink, stunned at the twist the conversation had taken. “Guest list?”
“Yeah. It’s not a backstage kind of thing, nothin’ like that. But I can put your names down. You can choose balcony or G.A., whatever you like. If you want G.A. I could probably weasel you in a little earlier so you can get a good spot.”
The opportunity already sounds amazing. There’s only one thing on your mind: “When?”
Van chuckles. “You’re gonna kill me.”
“Oh God, why?”
“It’s on Friday.”
“What?!” You spin around in the kitchen, making a beeline for the calendar you’ve got hanging up in there. “Van, that’s in five fucking days!”
“I’m sorry! It was kind of in talks, but they really like the album. They wanna do a whole week spinning it and really pushing us. It was all penciled in last minute.”
“Right,” You sigh, your mind going a mile a minute. “Okay, I need to call Mary. Can I call you back?”
“Yeah, sooner the better. If I don’t pick up I’ll call as soon as I’ve got a moment.”
You say your goodbyes, hitting call on Mary’s contact card as soon as the screen clears.
“Hey, Mare?” You start hesitantly.
“Yeah?”
“What are you and Theo doing on Friday?”
As soon as Mary starts detailing her plans, the oven timer rings out.
“Okay hold on,” You interrupt her. You put the call on speaker, resting it back on the counter while you fuss with the lasagna. “Whatever you’re doing, I need you to cancel it.”
“What? Why?”
You struggle to lift the heavy glass pan of food out of the heat. “Van’s doing a show and he wants to put us on the guest list.”
“Huh?” Mary’s voice rings tinny through the speakers. “I can’t hear you!”
“Van’s doing-” You huff in frustration, jabbing your finger against the oven keypad to stop the timer. “He’s doing a show and wants to put us on the guest list!”
“Who’s guest list?”
“Van’s!” You yell, your voice echoing through the silent kitchen. “Catfish and the Bottlemen are doing a show and he wants us on the guest list!”
Silence. Then: “You’re joking.”
“No,” You tell her breathlessly.
“Okay, fuck, okay,” Mary panics. “Lemme grab Theo.”
You don’t give your friends enough credit. All Friday plans were dropped in exchange for this show you knew nothing about.
Theo and Mary had pestered you with questions as you three scrambled to devise ways to clear your schedules. Mary was going to bail on her cousin’s baby shower, and Theo was in the process of texting any co-worker that could possibly cover for him. You had no idea what your plan was. Worst case scenario, you’d have to play sick. Through the entire ordeal, they’d asked where the show was, the capacity of the venue, what time, what radio station. You had answers for none of these.
You call Van back with an adrenaline rush, praying he picks up. He does.
“Okay, we’ll take three for G.A.,” You say instead of a greeting. “But I have some fucking questions for you, okay?”
Van laughs. “Okay, yeah. Grab a pen and paper, I’ll read you the email.”
\\
During your workweek you do your research. You listen to the radio station, curious to hear fan’s reactions to their new stuff. Almost every fan that wins tickets is a female that’s jumping for joy. Every commercial break consists of a minute-long ad of Van and Bondy introducing themselves and pushing their album and the chance to win tickets to hear it live. The radio announcers enthusiastically discuss how much they enjoy every song of the band’s that they play. You realize you’d been sorely underestimating their success. People seem genuinely interested in their work, and a lot of the people that call in are long-time fans.
But nothing prepares you for the actual day.
Getting the day off work had seemed like that was going to be your biggest obstacle, but it was surprisingly easy. The real challenge came with all the coordinating required between you, Mary, Theo, Van, and the band’s team.
The event was happening early afternoon, at 2. You’d never even heard of shows happening that early besides all-day festivals. But you supposed it made sense with the way it was going to be broadcasted over the radio this afternoon, and Van had mentioned they also had interviews to do.
That meant you were up as early as a workday, except last night you’d had the worst sleep possible because of your nerves. You slug through your grogginess, attempting to get ready with the help of multiple cups of coffee. Through the entire process you’re glued to your phone, fielding questions from Mary about what time you three should leave, who’s car to take, and who’s driving, along with questions from Van about what time you think you’ll be arriving, the address to the venue, and details about the guest list.
The whole guest list concept was so casual it made you nervous. The only thing Van took down was everyone’s first and last names, and their choice of general admission. He insisted that was enough. He’d arranged to meet you guys at the side door of the venue a half hour before doors opened to get you in early, but other than that he only told you to tell security your name if asked. It felt too easy for something to go wrong.
And to be fair, something did go slightly wrong. Communicating with everyone all morning keeps you from finishing your hair and makeup on time, which delays the three of you from leaving, which means that by the time you get through traffic and pull into the venue, Van has texted that he can’t wait at the side door any longer as it’s time for him to warm up.
No worries, securitys still waiting, He insists when you apologize for running late, When you get here go to the side.
You don’t even understand how you’re supposed to make it around the front of the venue. The entire building is swarmed with fans, most of them sitting on the cement in the sweltering L.A. heat for their best chances at a good spot. There’s a disorganized line crowded around the ticket booth, and at any moment more people are exiting their cars, heading to congest the building further. It hadn’t seemed like this many tickets had been given away when you’d been listening to the station. There’s way more people here than you expected.
You can feel everyone’s eyes on you as you walk past the line. Girls sitting on the sidewalk peer up at you, their heads following as you breeze past them. You actually feel bad. They must’ve been out here for hours, considering how far the line goes down the sidewalk. And yet here you are with your friends, scaling the line in a matter of minutes. As much as it feels elite, you’ve got a healthy amount of fear running through your veins. You pray that something doesn’t go wrong, that you don’t get turned away in front of all these people.
The last thing you see as you, Mary, and Theo turn the corner is necks craning to see what you’re up to. You’re relieved to be out of everyone’s sight around the brick building.
The door is exactly as Van had described, but there’s nobody attending to it. Your stomach sinks as you realize you’re probably locked out. But still, you turn the knob, needing the weight of your body to help maneuver the heavy door. You guys struggle to get through.
On the other side is a security guard watching you curiously.
“Van was waiting for us,” You explain. You’re so nervous that the true statement comes out like a question.
The guard eyes you three. Then he gestures to a spot on the floor. “One at a time, let’s get you checked.”
Just like that, the three of you are scanned over quickly by his portable detector, your bags skimmed through before he gestures to one of the doors.
“Stage is through that one.”
Everyone hurriedly thanks him as you head through the giant space, your footsteps echoing against the flooring as you head towards the door. There’s equipment everywhere, cords in tangled piles, and you even spot overflowing boxes of merch. You can hear some hustle and bustle in the distance, coming from one of the nearby rooms.
You’re thrown off when the door leads you right onto side stage. You’re instantly in the way of crew members who are maneuvering a drum set over the hardwood.
“Sorry, sorry,” You say immediately, scrambling to clear their path. Thankfully you spot the stairs to descend the stage nearby, although they’re blocked by a thick, dusty stage curtain you’ve got to press through.
Once you’re down, another security team member nearby makes a gap in the barricade railing for you to get through. And just like that, you three are standing at the barricade, no other fan in sight. With no questions, hassle, or mishaps. You look to Mary and Theo in relief.
“That was so weird,” Mary agrees with your silent communication. Her voice echoes eerily around the space.
“We should grab drinks,” Theo gestures to the bar nestled into one of the walls. There’s only one woman attending it currently, stocking plastic cups.
By the time you’ve been served, the doors have opened and people are starting to flow in. You nestle yourselves in the front corner of barricade, a spot that looks like it’s going to have a great view and also prevent the band from being able to see you.
You listen to the conversations that the fans pressed against barricade are having. Soon the space up front is packed tightly, everyone jostling for the best view. You pick up on a few people’s opinions of The Balance, a few general criticisms, and listen curiously to a couple of girls enthuse about a time they managed to meet Van. According to them, he was very nice. You glance over to catch one of the girls showing the other her picture. There’s Van, arm slung around her, lopsided smile on display. There’s something about knowing him personally and listening to the girls speak as if they know him personally that unsettles you. You decide to try and tune them out.
Without an opening act, the lights going down catch you off guard. One moment there’s a pre-show playlist playing happily over the amps, the crowd cheerfully bopping along, and the next the lights are out and the entire room erupts in screams. And just like that there’s blinding lights shining down, the band taking their positions before Van emerges, electric guitar slung low on his hips, the opening notes of Longshot ringing out.
There was nothing in your radio station research that could have prepared you for what you were witnessing today.
You knew Van loved music. It was as much a part of him as one of his organs. He was constantly talking about it, playing it, writing it, singing it. And he’d mentioned that he loves live shows. And you knew from his fans that Catfish made music that people really loved, really connected with. But you had made a fatal mistake. Your brain had not added these facts up correctly.
Because seeing the boys actually on stage was insane.
The band rips through their setlist relentlessly. You’re barely able to catch a breath before they’ve launched into the next song. And the next. And the next. The fast pace only seems to wind everyone up more, leave everyone eager to bask in every note. Van is magnetic on stage. The crowd goes crazy for him, and he knows it. Simply resting his foot on one of the amps makes the entire crowd swell and swarm in an attempt to get as close to that amp as possible. He improvises lyrics and note changes that keep everything interesting. Every one of the boys performs flawlessly. There’s not one moment where it looks like they’re anything less than over the moon to be entertaining.
As soon as it feels like the show is slipping by too fast, Van will drop the pace. He’ll chant a lyric a few extra times. He’ll strum his guitar a bit longer than what you’d been hearing on the radio. He’ll lean forward, voice low, and make direct eye contact with different people in the crowd. It’s so electrifying that when your desire for him washes over you in a surprisingly intense wave, you’re almost positive that every single person- regardless of sexual orientation- feels the same.
The show feels like it exists outside of time. It lasted hours but also only ten minutes. When Van thanks everyone for coming out it shocks you, but also fills you with extreme exhaustion as if you’d just run a marathon. Before you know it the boys have walked off, the lights are back up, and the air is still crackling with electricity.
The three of you gape at each other.
“They’re phenomenal,” Theo says after a moment of shocked silence. “Do they have their albums at the merch stand? I wanna give them a listen after that!”
“I dunno,” You mumble, numb. “I can probably get Van to grab you some.”
Someone next to you pauses at your mention of Van. You realize how strange that sentence sounded only after it’s out of your mouth. When you don’t say anything else, they keep moving.
“You do that,” Mary nods, eyes wide. “I guess we should… go?”
“Right,” You try to come back to reality, fishing your phone out of your bag. There’s a text from Van.
At the side door having a smoke. Come say hi?
“He wants us to come say hi,” You announce, your head spinning.
“You go say hi,” Mary elbows you playfully, “Meet us at the car.”
You don’t think security would take you heading to the side door through backstage well, so you head out the front door with them in a daze. Once you’re outside again you round the corner, ending up back at the side door, which is now cracked.
You knock softly, a warning before you try to heave it open again. This time there’s another set of hands helping you.
“Are you allowed to smoke inside?” You ask curiously once you’re inside, Van shutting the door behind you.
He shrugs. “Ceilings are high enough.” He nods towards outside. “M’not in any state to take a picture with anyone.”
“Right,” You breathe. Fans are looking for him. Another piece of information your brain doesn’t have the capacity to handle.
Van is soaked from head to toe in sweat. He resembles a wet dog, hair matted and sticking to his skin while he tries to catch his breath. His face is cherry red from his last two hours of exertion, his freckles standing out. He’s undone half of the buttons on his shirt, his chest as splotchy red as his cheeks. Although you two have a healthy distance between your bodies, you pick up on his body odor with every inhale. He’s radiating heat like a furnace.
“Did you like it?” He asks breathlessly.
“I loved it,” You beam. “So did Mary and Theo. You’re, like… incredible on stage. You all are.”
Van shakes his head around an inhale of his cigarette. “We had a really nice crowd, s’all. Makes everything more massive. I wanted to change up the setlist a bit but it couldn’t get done this fast.”
“I loved the setlist,” You assure him. “Everyone else clearly did, too.”
“Aw, quit. But you liked it? Honest?”
“I loved it,” You insist again. “Loved it. It was amazing.”
“Okay, good.” Van nods. “Wanted to make sure. I’m gonna go clean up now. I’ll see you after, if you want.”
“Yeah, when?”
Van flicks his finished cigarette out of the door. “You can head to my place. You remember the gate code?”
“010892,” You recite. Van smiles. “What about your front door?”
“Spare key under the mat.”
He’s already undoing the last buttons of his shirt. You try not to stare.
“I gotta shower real quick and do an interview, it shouldn’t be long. I’ll try to be quick.”
“Don’t rush an interview,” You urge him, shocked that he would even think of doing that. He laughs you off, parting with a quick goodbye before practically jogging away.
You make your way out of the side door and back into the melting heat, your mind going a mile a minute as you walk back to the car.
Sliding into the air conditioned vehicle feels heavenly. You slump in your seat.
“How’d it go?” Mary asks, turning in her seat to face you. “Did you jump into his arms?”
You laugh. “Fuck off.”
“Ready to go?” Theo asks as he kicks the car into reverse, carefully backing out of his parking spot.
“Yeah, but is there a way you could… Drop me off at Van’s?”
Mary cackles.
\\
You’re starting to get quite accustomed to the route to Van’s. You’re easily able to direct Theo around the twisted, uphill roads through the neighborhood. When you helpfully add that the 8 sticks, Mary only raises her eyebrows in amusement. Soon you’re at his front door, fishing around under the welcome mat laid out on his porch for the key. It’s easy enough to find, and you wave Mary and Theo off as you unlock the front door.
It’s strange being at his house alone. His luggage is strewn about the front room, a couple of the bags open and oozing clothing. There’s a MacBook charger plugged into the outlet by the stairs, but no MacBook in sight.
You take in his mess of things for a moment before locking the door and leaving the borrowed key on the end table, making a mental note to lecture him about finding a new hiding spot.
The air smells stale, a sure sign nobody’s been here for weeks. You take it upon yourself to turn one of the lamps on, noticing a notebook and pen resting on the coffee table. It’s got a leather cover, clearly some sort of journal or agenda. Maybe he writes songs in there? The temptation to snoop is strong, but you know better. You physically force yourself to turn away.
You crack the door to the outdoor lounge, hoping to let some fresh air in. You look around for the thermostat to make sure the air conditioning wouldn’t run itself silly trying to keep up with the L.A. heat breezing in, but you’re not able to spot one on the walls.
Your next stop is the kitchen. Van’s obviously been in here, a few tea mugs in the sink. You peek in the fridge; judging by the smell, it’s seen better days. There’s a rubbery-looking bundle of celery, it’s ends the crisp brown of decaying produce. A head of lettuce has rolled onto its side on the shelf, sharing a sheath of white fuzzy mold with the few soggy tomatoes next to it.
What is intact, however, is a gallon of unsweetened iced tea that’s still sealed, and a lonely beer bottle that’s tipped over in the door compartment. You extract the iced tea from where it’s resting on its side by the moldy tomatoes, and open various cupboard doors looking for a glass.
For lack of anything better to do you head out to the outdoor lounge, perching yourself on one of the chairs and setting your iced tea on one of the expensive-looking frosted glass tables. You get your phone out and flip through your photos and videos from the show, experiencing the magic all over again. You wonder if Van would be against you posting some of these. You’d have to ask him about it.
From your spot outside you hear the gate creak on its hinges, signaling Van’s arrival. You head back inside, your heart suddenly racing in anticipation. It seems silly considering you’d just seen him after the show, but you’re nervous nonetheless.
You’ve just locked up the patio when Van’s knuckles rap against the front door. You rush to unlock it, leaving your mostly-empty iced tea on the mantle.
“Fucking sweltering,” Van says as soon as he comes through the front door. As promised, he’s freshly showered. His hair is still wet except the ends, which are flipping this way and that as they dry. He’s in clean clothes, which you recognize immediately as the worn out gray sweatpants you’d seen him in once or twice, and the gray sweatshirt you’d borrowed the last time you’d seen him. He’s got a backpack slung over one of his shoulders.
“Lock me out of my own house, huh?” He jokes as he closes the door behind himself.
“Yeah,” You murmur, too busy processing the fact he’s in front of you for the first time in five weeks. At the memory of the key under the mat, you come back to your senses. “And you need to move that key,” You tell him sternly. “Under the mat is too easy! Anyone could guess that!”
Van makes a psh noise with his lips. “Nobody gives a fuck about my house.”
“Um, everyone at that show?” You argue.
“Worried they’re gonna come in and raid my drawers?” Van grins. “Steal one of my condoms as a souvenir? Nah, it’s fine.”
You roll your eyes in disagreement, but drop the subject.
Van turns to you then, taking you in.
“Long time no see,” He breathes, his grin reappearing.
“I think you’ve already used that line,” You point out. And without further ado you get up on your toes, going in for a kiss. Van lets his head tip, your lips crashing together effortlessly.
Kissing Van makes the tornado of feelings that have been swirling around for the last month settle. Any doubts about your chemistry, whether or not the party was the last time he’d be this close to you, or whether you’d failed the meet-the-friends test all come to rest now as Van deepens the kiss, getting a hand on the hem of your shirt to tug you closer.
You get a hand on the back of his neck in response, pressing your lips tighter together. Running your fingers through the damp locks of hair sticking to his skin.
The way you’ve missed him washes over you, crashing waves no longer able to be ignored. It’s the strange mix of sadness and relief pressing down on your chest that suddenly has you getting down on your knees.
“Oh fuck,” Van murmurs, swinging his backpack off of his shoulder in one motion. He sets it down safely before leaning back, letting the front door hold most of his weight.
He cooperates eagerly as you get his pants down in one smooth motion. He’s close to hard, but not enough to get started yet.
You stroke the inside of his thighs with your palms in big, sweeping motions. They’re still clammy from his shower. He smells clean, like men’s body wash. You ease your hands under the hem of his sweater and the t-shirt he’s got layered underneath, running your fingers over the bump of his lower stomach. His skin is silky smooth wherever you touch. Even the trail of hair that thickens in a stripe down his belly feels less wiry. You can’t help but run your fingers over the hairs as you bring your hands back down to the matter at hand.
Van lets you keep him waiting without complaint, watching you with hooded eyes.
He’s hard now as you wrap a hand around him, your wrist twisting around him in muscle memory. You only hope that muscle memory applies to the rest of what you’re about to do.
He’s waiting for your next move, the muscles in his thighs clenched tight. His desperation is palpable. You’re taking too long to get your mouth around him, trying to work up the courage.
“I’m rusty,” You blurt out suddenly. “I haven’t, um, done this recently. So if something’s not right…”
You trail off at the way Van’s shaking his head vehemently, his damp hair rustling with the motion.
“I don’t care,” He says, resting his head against the door, chin tipping upwards, his eyes falling shut. “It doesn’t matter. Doesn’t fucking matter.”
You figure it will matter in a minute, when you’re not up to his expectations, but his reassurance comforts you enough to get started. You carefully maneuver his foreskin under the ridge of his head so you can get your lips around him, pressing the flat of your tongue against his slit as you plan your next move.
Van jolts at the sensation, his hips jerking forward, feeding you more than you were ready for.
He grimaces apologetically when you pull back. “My bad, my bad, love,” He apologizes. “Took me by surprise s’all. Sorry.”
Instead of a response you pet his thigh with the back of your hand, a silent reassurance that he’s forgiven. This time when you start again you press one of your hands to his hip, nudging him back against the door. You use your other hand to guide him into your mouth. When his muscles go tight you quickly shift your hand from his hip to lower stomach, pressing him away from you more firmly.
With the security of your hand holding him away you’re able to get into a rhythm. It’s a bit sloppier than you’d prefer, and the entire time forgotten pointers from your past are flashing through your mind, but Van doesn’t seem to notice. He leans uselessly against the door, occasionally cursing quietly.
Giving head is a precise game to play, but fortunately Van makes things easy. You devote all your focus to him, taking careful note of what tricks make his stomach clench against your palm or leave him groaning. A slightly faster pace gets his thighs trembling. You’re not sure if there’s someone else in London, but considering Van’s desperation she must not give head.
When it’s clear he can’t hold off much longer you shut your eyes tight, willing your throat to relax as much as humanly possible before taking him down deep.
Van’s reaction comes instinctually. In your focus you’ve relaxed the pressure on his stomach, and you feel his hips lift off of the door, chasing the feeling.
“Oh fuck,” He groans, his hands scrambling for something to hold on to. He settles for restlessly combing his fingers through your hair.
Your other hand flies to his stomach, pressing him back forcefully to prevent yourself from being choked. There’s only an inch or two space between him and the door, and you’re more forceful than you’d intended, the door making a heavy thud as his body lands against it. Instantly you get a sinking sensation in your stomach that you’ve accidentally hurt him.
As you go to pull back and check, you’re stopped by the way Van’s entire body goes stiff.
“Shit, I-”
But before he can finish uttering his warning you feel his orgasm rock through him, his dick throbbing against your tongue as you feel him pulsing heat down the back of your throat.
Thankfully, he’s deep enough so the taste is minimal. Van pulls out as soon as he’s done while you stay put, only slightly sputtering as you swallow everything down.
“Fuck,” Van exhales. You look up at him.
“Holy shit,” He says, dazed and lost for words. He tugs up his pants before melting down the door until he’s on the floor with you.
“Rusty,” He scoffs. “Fuck you. You’re hustling me!”
You’re still cringing from the taste of him. “Can you go grab me my iced tea?” You request, pointing him in the direction of the mantle.
Van obliges.
“Sorry for such a shit warning,” He says when he brings the iced tea back. He offers you his hand, helping you up from the floor. “I was trying to hold off. Wanted to do other things.” He winks. “Been a while since I had that, though. Doesn’t help you’re fucking amazing at it, either. Shit.”
You roll your eyes, brushing off his compliment. “You’re fine,” You insist. “I was just worried I hurt you.”
“Nah. Quite the opposite, actually.”
You two make your way to the sectional, plopping down. As soon as your body comes to rest you feel the exhaustion from the concert wash over you, only amplified by your front door activities.
“Do you want me to return the favor?” Van’s lying on his stomach, head resting on his arms.
You perk up at the suggestion, bummed when you remember you need to shower. There’s no way you’re letting Van down there when you’ve been sweating like a pig.
“Raincheck,” You sigh, disappointed. “I need to shower. I’m disgusting.”
Van hums in acknowledgement.
A lazy silence blankets you both. You hear Van’s stomach grumble.
“You hungry?” You ask, realizing as you say it that you are, too.
“Yeah,” Van sighs, rolling onto his back. “Haven’t had anything but toast. All the food went bad.”
“You didn’t eat at the venue?”
“Not right before a show. Doesn’t sit right in my stomach on stage.”
“Oh my god,” You groan suddenly. “I forgot I have the best frozen pizza in my freezer.”
“What toppings?”
“Cheese. But then I got fresh pepperonis. The expensive kind.” Your mouth practically waters thinking about it. “It’s one of those giant ones.”
A beat of silence from Van. And then: “We could go to yours?”
“Like, for dinner? That sounds good. And then I can shower.”
“I mean, I can pack a bag and stay over. It’s up to you. Is Mary your roommate?”
“Nope. Just me.” You sigh gratefully as you think of your past living arrangements. “But yeah, stay over if you wanna.”
Van sits up. “I do. Need to give this place a good cleaning.”
“It smells weird,” You admit.
“Always does,” Van says, heaving himself up off of the couch. “From being closed up. Should smell my place in London when I get back from U.S. tours.”
You crinkle your nose, staying put as Van starts picking through his bags.
Soon he’s got his backpack repacked and slung back over one of his shoulders. “Ready?”
It feels like it takes a superhuman amount of effort to get yourself up from the couch, slip your shoes on, and head out the front door with him.
You’re in such a sleepy haze as you direct Van to your house that you almost forget to be anxious that he’ll absolutely hate your place.
But once he pulls up, his range rover out of place behind your beat up car, your anxiety makes itself as present as ever. There’s no driveway, so he’s parked against the sidewalk behind you. You pray nobody scratches his car during the night, even though your neighbors are quite good about that kind of thing.
“Here it is,” You laugh nervously as you two clamor out of the air conditioning and into the humidity.
Your front yard is the only space with grass, enclosed with a moderately new white picket fence. You fuss with the latch before it comes undone, and the gate creaks open for Van to follow you down the path to the front porch. Van holds the screen door while you unlock the door.
“Well,” You say, stepping inside, “This is my place.”
You actually love your house. Considering the L.A. housing market, you’re blessed to even rent a home rather than an apartment, let alone without roommates. Renting this space is only made possible by the fact it was one of your ex-girlfriend’s friends that owned it, and he cut you a great deal on rent.
Van walks around, examining the decor. All of the walls are painted the same color, a light gray that matches the wooden floors nicely. And although furniture is sparse throughout the rest of the house, you’re actually quite proud of the work you’ve done furnishing the front room; There’s a dark blue sectional, although not as plush or big as Van’s, along with a nice coffee table that has storage built into the sides. They sit atop a white and blue striped rug that ties everything together nicely, facing the television sitting proudly on it’s stand.
The dining table shares the space, a cheap white set with metal legs you had managed to snag on sale.
You’ve got two bedrooms, but one of them is unfurnished, instead holding boxes of things from your move you’d never felt like unpacking. A lot of it is things you’d packed to move cross country as a teenager. Too sentimental to throw away, too childish to keep around.
Your actual bedroom is simple, a queen bed and a dresser. A bookshelf that was covered with more clutter than books. You feel yourself holding your breath as Van peeks his head into the different rooms, getting a feel for everything.
“It’s really fucking nice,” He says finally, and you feel yourself exhale. “I love the windows.”
You beam at his mention of the windows. The natural light is one of the things that made you feel like it was love at first sight here. “Me too.”
Van sets his backpack down on the kitchen table.
“Sorry it’s smaller than you’re used to,” You can’t help but say.
Van cracks a lopsided smile. “I’m used to hotel rooms, really. This place is huge compared to those.”
You laugh, your nerves always eased by his humor. “I’ll get the pizza going.”
The evening slides by quietly. You two work side by side in the kitchen, bumping hips and hands while you place pepperonis. You’re quiet during dinner, too focused on scarfing down your food. Afterward, Van offers to wash the dishes while you start on your shower. You try to talk him out of that plan, but he’s insistent on helping. You eventually give in.
As you scrub your makeup off under the hot water, you realize this is the most natural you’ve ever been in front of Van. Even if you’re not always wearing a full face of makeup like did today, you’re always adamant about having some tinted moisturizer or mascara on when you’re with him. You knew him well enough to know he wouldn’t criticize your appearance; You just hoped he’d keep the shock off of his face when he first sees you.
The hot water invigorates you with a fresh boost of energy, washing off the fatigue that’s been hanging over you since Van’s house.
You head into your bedroom, the only thing covering you the threadbare towel wrapped around you. Van is sitting on your bed, tapping away at his laptop. He doesn’t look up as you make your way to your dresser.
“What’re you doing?” He asks, and you hear the soft noise of his computer closing.
“Getting dressed,” You tell him, procuring a pair of underwear and folded t-shirt from their respective drawers.
“Well, stop,” Van demands. At the slap of his hand against your comforter you turn around, confused. He’s slapped the space next to him, and he motions to it with a nod of his head. “Get over here.”
You feel a laugh bubble up from the nerves stewing in your stomach. “What?”
Even as you question him you still obey, abandoning the underwear and shirt in favor of sitting on the edge of the bed in your towel.
“Lay down,” Van insists, patting the bed again. “I’ve got a favor to return, don’t I?”
You swallow hard. You hadn’t forgotten his proposal, the way it fizzled away with no real resolution. A part of your brain had clung onto his words, nervously hoping he’d follow through. The part of you that didn’t want to get your hopes up had convinced yourself to forget about it and get dressed.
“It doesn’t work that way,” You assure him sternly. “It’s not tit-for-tat.”
Van isn’t phased. His lopsided smile makes another appearance from where he’s already stood up from the bed, stripping away his clothes.
“But that wouldn’t be polite of me.” He tosses his crewneck at you teasingly. It’s damp from being pressed against his post-shower body. You throw it to the floor for him. He does the same with his t-shirt.
Once he’s down to his briefs he meanders around the room, setting the scene. You gaze at him in wide-eyed curiosity as he shuts the bedroom door, turns off the bedside lamp, and motions to the windows.
“Want me to close these?”
The sun was close to slipping under the horizon, the last rays of light weakly shining. And unlike Van’s house, there were neighbors with their own windows close by. “Yeah, close ‘em,” You agree.
Once that’s done Van turns back to you, still sitting shell-shocked on the bed. He motions to your towel, still wrapped tightly around your midsection. “You gonna let go?”
You hadn’t realized how tightly your fingers had been clenching the fold to keep it in place. At his words you relax your hands. The fabric doesn’t unfold all the way, but Van climbs back onto the bed, his fingers slipping against your bare skin as he untucks it.
“Why are you so tense?” He asks as he slips the towel away from your body, off the edge of the bed. He smiles at you, amused and relaxed. “You’re stiff as a board.”
“I’m nervous.” It’s easier to admit now that the lights are off and the windows are closed. There’s still light pressing against the blinds, but the blanket of shadows relaxes you.
“Bad experiences?”
Van is still fussing with the pillows while he talks to you, getting some to fill the gap between the two sleeping spaces. Once he’s satisfied he pushes at you gently, silently asking you to lay down. You do.
You stare at your ceiling for a moment before answering. “Not really bad.” You chew the inside of your cheek in contemplation. “Mediocre, for sure. Lots of pressure.”
Van’s palm presses warm against the soft skin of your stomach. You shiver, tilting your neck so you can look at him where he’s hovering next to you, sitting on his knees. He swipes his thumb back and forth against your skin in a reassuring motion.
“Lucky for you, there’s no pressure,” He shrugs. “We can always do somethin’ else. Just say the word.”
You nod, taking his words in. “Right.”
He lifts his hand from your stomach, running it through his hair. “No bullshit, remember?”
You remember the pinky promise you’d made after your first date. It feels like forever ago. You jokingly lift you arm to salute him. “No bullshit.”
Van chuckles as he salutes you back. The lightheartedness helps you relax.
After the salute Van climbs up onto his hands and knees, making his way down your body. He places a kiss here or there as he goes; one on your shoulder, one near one of your nipples, by your belly button, the top of your thigh. He takes his time getting comfortable between your legs, squirming and adjusting. He presses his fingertips against the inside of your knees and you let him bend your legs, opening them to his preferred angle.
You clench your hands into the fabric of your comforter, laying there open and vulnerable. The build up is excruciating. He spends time running his fingertips over you, feather light. There’s not enough pressure to create friction but you feel the sparks nonetheless. He nuzzles into the crook of your thigh, his hair tickling you wherever it brushes. You’ve got to reach one of your hands down to scratch an itch from it, and since you’re there you lace your fingers into his hair. It grounds you to be able to feel him, to have an idea of his next move.
It still catches you off guard when he presses his lips right against your clit. He pulls away quickly, leaving a light kiss, but the sensation buzzes through you for much longer. Just when it starts to fizzle out he leans in again, more pressure but too quick again, over as soon as it began. You groan in impatience, tugging on his hair.
He takes you seriously after that. In one sweeping motion his breath floats hot over your skin before his mouth is pressed against you, there to stay. His lips part for his tongue to caress you, firm but forgiving, rough and smooth and warm all at once and you cry out from it.
Van is relentless. You can’t catch a full breath, desperately gasping for air as he works enthusiastically and without pause. Even as you squirm against the blankets he’s determined to keep his spot, his face pressing between your legs insistently. It only makes you squirm more, every nerve in your body firing off without being able to catch a break.
You’re so focused on his mouth that the sensation of his calloused fingertips brushing against your entrance goes unnoticed at first. It’s only when he gets a rhythm going, a smooth circle that repeats over and over that you jolt. You don’t have the brainpower to give him any verbal affirmation. Your body lifts it’s hips on its own, instinctively attempting to press down onto his fingers, physically begging for more, more, more.
If there’s only one lesson you can take from this experience, it’s how attuned Van is to your body. At your hip’s request he eases his two fingers in, pressing slow and deep, persisting even as you clench tight around him, desperate to feel the contours of his fingers.
He makes some small movements, but they’re not necessary. The sensation of being full and also stimulated by his mouth at the same time is so overpowering that he’s barely got to put any work in anymore. The two distinctly different sensations blend together, running up your spine. It feels like you’re about to be split down the center from how good it feels.
Holding Van’s hair just isn’t enough. No matter how tight you were clenching the roots of his hair you needed more. It felt like if you grabbed your comforter you’d rip it apart at the seams. You grope at your pillows, sinking your fingertips into the soft surface, contorting it as your hands clenched into tense fists.
Van groans against you seconds before you come, like he feels something you don’t. His arms hold your thighs open wide as you seize through it, shouting at first before quieting down to moans. You whimper when it’s done washing over you, the sensitivity setting in as he continues to gingerly lick.
“Okay,” You croak, gently nudging at his scalp. “Ow.”
He’s beaming as he pulls away, satisfaction oozing off of him as he wipes at his mouth.
“Bad experience?” He jokes as he scrambles off of the bed. He’s still in his briefs, a fact that surprises you. He strips them off, clumsy in his eagerness, clamoring back on the bed.
You’re still on cloud nine, too far away to be able to engage with his teasing. You only snort in laughter.
Van’s sitting up on his knees, hand around himself. His dick looks painfully hard.
“Gimme something to blow into.” His voice is laced with urgency.
“C’mere,” You murmur, spreading your legs apart. You use a hand on his side to try and guide him to kneel between your legs, but he falters in confusion. “Between my legs,” You whine, too hazy for explanations.
He knees you as he repositions himself. Unable to read your mind, he starts jerking off again, preparing to come on your thighs.
“Hold on, chill out,” You grumble playfully, batting his hand away from himself.
He huffs in frustration but you ignore him, stretching your arm to the limit in order to grasp the bottle of lotion you’d left on your bedside table the other day after moisturizing after your shower. You squeeze a good dollop into your palm before wrapping your fingers around him. His sigh of relief cuts so raw through his throat you feel your body buzz with an aftershock.
“Come forward a little,” You guide him, jerking him off over your stomach. He thrusts against your hand, his balls hanging heavy between his legs.
You do him the favor of using your other hand to lend them some attention, realizing with regret you had no idea what his preferences were. Thankfully, your standard palming seems to work fine.
You watch his face as he comes, your focus unbroken as he splatters hot and thick all over your stomach. You keep your hand moving until you see the tension ease out of his forehead and around his eyes. Until he’s finally blinking back at you, disoriented.
There’s only the sound of heavy breathing for a moment. It’s jarring compared to all the noise that previously filled the room.
“I gotta go clean myself off,” You excuse yourself quickly, feeling his come dry against your skin. You make your way on wobbly legs to the bathroom, soaking a towel in the sink before scrubbing at your stomach.
You startle when Van taps at the door. At your invitation he peeks his head in, watching your futile attempt to clean his mess. Everywhere the water dried there was a crusty sheen of white.
“Get in the shower with me,” He mumbles, taking it upon himself to start fussing with the knobs, getting the water running without any assistance.
“You just showered,” You point out.
“Gotta rewash my hair.” He sounds completely zapped of energy.
You abandon the wet hand towel on the tile, deciding to worry about it tomorrow. You climb back into the shower you’d just emerged from, shifting around the tight space to share it with Van, who’s already wetting his hair.
It’s strange being in this space with Van. You’ve never been one for casual nakedness, always at least wearing a shirt and underwear around the house. Standing in the fluorescent bathroom lighting, watching Van carefully rinse away any excess lotion from the folds of his foreskin feels too intimate. You focus on yourself instead, keeping your head bent low while you run your loofa over your stomach. It only takes Van a few minutes to massage your shampoo through his hair, and then you two are getting back out. You pass him a towel before wrapping one around yourself.
“Got a toothbrush I can borrow?” He requests, and you pull a spare one from the closet, letting him struggle with the cardboard packaging as you get a head start brushing your own teeth.
He bumps you with his hip, nudging you over so you two can both share the mirror.
Then you’re both back in your bedroom, a sense of deja vu as you get dressed in the shirt and underwear that was already sitting on top of the dresser.
The quiet starts to worry you as you climb into bed. You worry suddenly that this was intended to be some sort of goodbye. That this whole strange ritual of head-giving and spending the night at your place and staying close to each other was Van’s way of giving you guys a last hurrah before letting you know that he realized things weren’t working. Maybe the hypothetical London girl wanted commitment.
Van lights a cigarette as you slip under the sheets with him.
“So…” He starts, before looking over at you. You gulp.
“That was… not mediocre, right?”
You roll your eyes. “Shut up.”
“M’serious!” Van laughs, his cigarette moving dangerously through the air as he gestures with his hands.
“You just want me to stroke your ego,” You scoff, lightly elbowing him.
“Guess I’m the devil for checking in on you, then.” Van shrugs in a faux pout.
“What do you want me to say?” You tip your head back, sighing dramatically. “Oh, Van McCann, that was the best head I’ve ever gotten. I’ve only come twice from head and it’s been from you both times.” You flop down onto your mattress dramatically. “I’m truly so blessed you chose me tonight out of all those girls at the show.”
“Oh, that was a low blow,” Van jokes, hand over his heart in mock pain. “No need to bring up the groupies.”
You giggle, flipping onto your stomach and shifting your weight on your elbows so you can look up at him.
“I guess I’m just asking because I’m confused,” Van says, tapping his ashes into the empty can of Coke he’d left on the bedside table. “Like you said, you’ve only ever made it across the finish line two times. But… you had that girlfriend, didn’t you?”
You tense in habitual defensiveness. Through the course of your relationship with her, and any time coming out after, fielding questions from nosy men who want you to indulge them in their girl-on-girl fantasies is a familiar insult.
“Did I have a girlfriend? Yes,” You play dumb, pressing him for a question with more specifics.
Van sees right through you. He rolls his eyes. “I mean, lads aren’t great at getting it right, y’know. Your setup’s fucking confusing. I’m the first to admit I’m daft about the whole thing and fucking shit to sleep with. But wouldn’t another girl get it?”
At its core, Van’s question has a lewd essence you’ve encountered before. One that wants you to describe how good women are in bed, how they always get it right and every encounter is sensual and just like they’ve seen in porn.
But it’s clear Van has a genuine interest. A real desire to get to know you better and learn about your sexual history. With that in mind, you sigh.
“I mean…” You start, then stop. Try to carefully put your words together. “First of all, every girl has a different… setup. You’ve got to know that much,” You narrow your eyes at him, accusatory.
Van waves his hand in dismissal. “Right. Does my head in.”
“Well it’s the same with guys! I can’t walk up to any guy on the street and know exactly what he’d like. You might know your way around- for the most part- but it’s still different with everyone. Plus,” You feel self-consciousness creep over you at how intently Van’s clinging onto your words, “We were each other’s first girl, ya know, so it was all new and weird. And she wasn’t very interested in that sort of thing. It’s not something we did often. I dunno. It just didn’t work the way you think it does.”
Van stubs his cigarette out. “And how do I think it works?”
“Like porn,” You insist. “That’s how everyone thinks it goes.”
Van shakes his head, amused. “I’m grown enough to know that absolutely nothing goes like porn, okay? You say shit that I get curious about!”
When you don’t respond, he elaborates.
“Like… If you’re telling me you’ve never come from getting head, and I’m planning on doing that, I’d like to know why!” He laughs, throwing up his hands in innocence. “Like I said, I’m shit! I’d like to improve my chances!”
You shake your head in disbelief. “You’re weird!” You tell him. “Asking about exes is weird! I don’t wanna know about yours. It makes for competition.”
You flop onto your back after your declaration, feeling Van’s body shake in silent laughter beside you.
“I lied,” You blurt out, rolling onto your side to click your lamp off as Van starts to settle in. “I do wanna know one thing.”
“Alright.”
“How many have you told about the roughing-up thing?”
“None. And you weren’t supposed to remember that,” He frowns in the darkness at you.
“None? Really?”
“Well… Most of the times something would happen organically, I guess. Things get rough in the moment, y’know. But I never spelled it out.”
You hum. There’s a strand of hair that’s flopped over his eyes, and you carefully tuck it away. “Gotcha,” You say around a yawn.
The room goes quiet.
“G’night,” You tell Van, giving him a pat on his shoulder before turning around, nestling into your sheets.
“Night,” Van says quietly.
Soon, the room glows blue from his phone.
\\
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Falling Like The Stars pt. 4 | Chris Evans
Summary : Summary : you and Chris had one magical night a year ago but that was it. Just one night. As you went your separate ways, you thought he had completely forgotten about you. That was until you saw him on Jimmy Fallon
A/N : this is a flashback chapter, to the night when they met. I hope you all enjoy this. And my inspo was Let It Snow on Netflix. If you haven’t seen it, you should! Lol. Thank you for taking the time to read my series!
Part One - Part Two - Part Three
October 18, 2018.
The night was chilly and loud, a typical day of course, in the big city. It took you awhile to get used to when you first moved out there six months ago. But once you did, you were able to appreciate everything New York had to offer.
You were heading home, later than usual. Exhausted, and hungry and slightly annoyed.
The subway wasn't usually crowded at this time. Which you liked most, though you would have preferred to have left right at six like everyone else. But of course, you were stuck with a stack of work to do.
This was the time you could unwind and lose yourself in a book.
You sat alone by the door, sitting in silence. The train came to a stop, people came and gone. You almost didn't notice, until a phone fell out of a strangers pocket and landed on the floor.
Quickly, you grabbed it without hesitation.
"Excuse me!" You called out for the stranger.
He stopped in his steps and turned to face you. The second your eyes met his, you were quickly taken aback. You couldn't believe it was actually Chris Evans.
He let out an annoyed sigh as he stepped closer. "Hi. Look, sorry I'm really trying to stay low key right now. So I'm—"
Instantly, you were brought back to reality. "Um, you dropped this."
Once Chris saw his phone in your hand, he immediately felt like an ass. "Wow I—" he paused, exhaling a long breath, glancing back to your eyes. "Thank you."
You shrugged, and gave him back his iPhone. But before you turned around, something came over you. "Just so you know, I'm not the type of person to throw themselves at someone just because their famous."
And with that, you turned your back to him and strode over to your seat. Chris watched you walk away. There was something about you that he wasn't sure what it was exactly, but he was captivated.
During the ride, he sat across the way, trying to immerse himself in his phone. But every now and then, he couldn't help but glance back at you.
Which you did as well.
Every time he looked at you, it felt like something was pulling him in. He started to wonder about you. What your likes and dislikes are. Are you a morning or a night kind of person?
Suddenly, the train came to a stop. Chris snapped back to reality, shaking off his thoughts. He propped up to his feet and started to walk out.
As you grabbed your things, just about leave, you noticed Chris going the same way you were.
"Great." You mumbled to yourself.
This wasn't how you wanted the night to go. First you meet the actor you had admired over the years, secondly, you were coming off as stalker-ish. Awesome.
"Hope you know I'm not following you." You said, as you both made your way out of the transit. "Just trying to go home."
"And I'm just going back to the hotel." He smirked.
"Great, guess I'll call TMZ."
Chris let out a soft chuckle as you push passed him and started making your way out.
Though you two had only just met, he didn't want to let that be it. Not yet.
"Hey, do you—do you want to grab some coffee or something?"
You stopped in your steps and turned to face him. "You're joking right?"
"What? No, I—"
Before he could finish his sentence, you rolled your eyes and started to walk away once again. Chris sprinted to your side, slightly startling you.
This whole situation didn't make sense. For someone like Chris Evans to have any interest in you, and wanting to spend more time with you, it didn't add up. Why would he waste his time?
"I was thinking maybe we can get something to eat. Do you like pie? Or what about pizza?"
As he went on, he almost didn't notice you had stopped, staring at him with furrowed brows. When he looked back, he could tell what you were thinking. "I just want to take this time to show you how truly sorry I am for being an ass in there." He said. "Because I was. And you didn't deserve that. So what do you say? Please let me make it up to you, that's all I ask."
You held his gaze for a moment. Trying to read him and failing. Was this really happening?
"You weren't being an ass." You muttered. “The life you live, I couldn’t imagine it. Having no privacy, and always have to put on a smile and give your time to people who don’t know anything about you aside from what they see. I get it. And if it were up to me, I’d say you have every right to say no.”
Chris was taken aback by your statement. He was so used to feeling like a puppet in this industry. Doing what he’s told, having to pretend he is happy all the damn time. It was exhausting.
You could see his sudden shift in his expression, and though you are not one to go on a whim and be this person who just lives spontaneously, some how you couldn’t walk away.
Letting out a sigh, you caved. “How do you feel about pancakes?”
“I—I like pancakes.” He said, as his lips curved into a small smile.
“Good. Because I know where they make the best pancakes in the world.”
“Oh, the best? Hmm, I’ll be the judge of that.”
“Trust me, one bite and you’re gonna feel like you’re walking on clouds.”
The walk took about twenty minutes, which was perfect. Because it gave you the chance to get to know one another.
You got to learn things about him that you never knew. Aside from interviews and what he shows on Twitter, you were able to see a side of him that actually felt real. Honest.
“I’m sorry but A New Hope is by far the best Star Wars movie!” You exclaimed, trying hard not to smile so much.
“I beg to differ! I mean, did you even watch The Empire Strikes Back?” He said, hands deep in his pockets, walking closely next to you. “That big reveal was just mind blowing!”
“Oh come on! That whole, ‘I am your father’ thing was so obvious!”
It was hard to kept from laughing as time went on. He made you laugh over the littlest remarks. It was crazy how easy it was for him to break down your walls. Almost like you two had known each other forever. And every time you laughed, Chris wanted nothing more than to keep it going. The sound was almost like a melody, and it made him feel whole.
To think, if you had gone home right on time, you would have never met each other. Maybe it was always meant to be. Maybe it was fate.
——
Tagging : @ab-baybay @kelbabyblue @thestormabovethesea @denisemarieangelina @letsstarsfalling @dottirose @fallenoutofrose @the-diabolic @straightforwardly @notyourtypicalrose @whenpugzfly @an-adventureland @mitsumikirigakure @bellaireland1981 @soymikael @sebbys-girl @sophiealiice @lazyperfectionist705 @stuckybuckyfucky @silver-winter-wolf @mustangshelby04 @ohmygoditsanthonyedwardstark @officialmarvelwhore @xceafh @theatrechic26 @stuckyandsciencebros @klaussstilinski @elliessoul @ifyousayso13
#so is anyone enjoying this series?#marvel#chris evans#steve rogers#marveledit#marvel imagine#the avengers#marvel fanfiction#avengers infinity war#marvel mcu#avengers endgame#avengers#avengers fanfiction#chris evans x y/n#chris evans fanfiction#chris evans fic#chris evans x reader#chris evans imagine#captain america
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Self-interview (but not really)
When I heard about @sherlollyappreciationweek hosting a self-interview event, I thought it would be fun to participate, so people could get to know me better as an author. But, instead of doing a self-interview, I approached some of my readers and asked them to pose questions for me to answer.
I’m not aiming at making this about me personally. It’s all about me as an author. If you want to know about who I really am outside of my writing, feel free to chat with me privately.
The name of the person asking the questions will precede each section. As this interview is rather long, I will do it in two parts.
MossRose10
Q: What personal experiences or skills (in broad strokes), besides your faith, have influenced what you write about for your characters?
A: I know I see Molly differently than most people, in a more wholesome way. When I look at her character on the show, she doesn't seem the type to have a long sexual history, but instead, seems to be someone who has devoted her life to becoming the best pathologist she can be. I adore her character, and to be honest, I put a lot of my own traits into her - including her love of singing and faith. My post TFP Sherlock has had his true nature restored by the events of Sherrinford. Thus, he is emotionally stable and able to love Molly deeply. I can write him that way because I happen to have a romantic, loving husband (lucky me!). A lot of times in my married stories, I draw on experiences I've had that I have fictionalized for the characters. I usually refer to these in author’s notes. I also love writing about their children, and put a lot of thought and personal experience into writing for them from watching my own daughters grow.
As for the other characters, I just write them the way I feel reflects their personalities best from what I’ve observed in the show, working on fleshing out their characters more as I’ve continued 3 years worth of storyline beyond TFP. For example, my version of Mycroft has mellowed a lot and married Lady Smallwodd, and John has also become a Christian and is remarried with a son.
Q: What kinds of characters do you find most challenging to write, and what strategies do you use to write them?
A: I don’t think I necessarily have a lot of issues in writing the canon characters because I have watched the show so many times I feel I know them personally. Probably the most challenging thing is writing for OC’s or peripheral characters I may have brought into a story that we haven't seen a lot of (like Billy Wiggins or Philip Anderson). I must admit, I have written very little about Moriarty, because most of my stories take place after his death.
dmollyc
Q: What character is hardest to write?
A: I kind of addressed this one in the above answer, but I do think I'd find it difficult to write for Moriarty because I'm not sure how well I could get into the psyche of a deranged madman!
Q: Do you get any nasty reviews?
A: Thankfully, not many. Most of the negative ones are people reacting to a story out of context. They will read a story in the middle of my chronological timeline and then complain that the characters are OOC. When I write my continuing stories, I assume that people are familiar with the characters as I’ve written them already, so this can cause confusion.
Because of the Christian themes, I have lost readers who object to the theology I present through my characters. Obviously, I will not please everybody.
But generally speaking, people are very kind about my work when they review it, and I especially love the reviewers who immerse themselves into my world of Sherlock and Molly and embrace my post-TFP version of them.
Q: What do you like best about your stories?
A: Probably what I like best is that I've found a unique niche in the fandom in creating a whole Christian theme, and writing a lot of different stories with the same theme. I've not seen anyone else doing that (although I'd love to see it done by others).
I enjoy writing my own continuing post-TFP happy ending for Sherlock and Molly, expanding their universe and that of the other characters from Sherlock as well.
Also, I enjoy showing Molly as someone with a belief in saving herself for marriage. It's not going to be a popular idea for the general population, but I know many Christians can relate to that desire to keep sex for that special someone rather than experimenting with every boyfriend they date.
I also think I do a pretty good job in writing love scenes that are steamy, but still clean, although I’m aware that some readers are more sensitive who find them too steamy. I write using my own inner guide for how far to take things in the bedroom. Some stories are definitely steamier than others, but there are certain graphic terms I will never use in my writing because I feel they cross the line of my own comfort zone.
Chelseamh98
Q: How have you overcome the challenges of your vision impairment?
A: This is definitely an ongoing process for me. When I began writing, my proofreading would just consist of looking over the chapter a couple times to try to errors. I have issues when typing on my iPad because of the flat keyboard surface. That means I often type a word incorrectly. To help compensate for that, I have hundreds of words in my “text replacement” section, so that certain words I often mis-type automatically correct to the right word. I have a bad tendency to hit the M instead of N or vice versa, for example. A few months after I began publishing, someone suggested I use a text-to-speech app to help me identify incorrectly spelled words. That did help. I copy a chapter into the text-to-speech app and watch my chapter in a split screen as I listen to the words. That has been a big help. Then, this year, I discovered a free website called prowritingaid, which I now use as another editing tool, and it identifies even more spelling and grammar errors. So now I find myself writing, proofreading as I go along several times as I write. When the chapter is finished and I am ready to publish, I do another visual read. Then I use the prowritingaid site as another editing step. After that, I use the text-to-speech app and listen as I read. Finally, I copy the whole thing into Google Docs, add italics and bold type and glance through the chapter again to see if Google Docs has discovered any more errors. It's a very long process, believe me, and it takes so much longer to do the editing and proofreading than to write! For me, the writing part is easy!
Q: Does it (visual impairment) affect the way you write?
A: Physically, yes. I cannot use a computer, because I need to be inches away from the screen to see what I am doing. Sometimes I will sit at a table and write, but usually, I put three cushions on my lap and sit my iPad on top. Over time, that method has caused me to have pretty severe tendonitis, but I have no other way to write, and it's worth the pain to keep writing! Currently, I am also dealing with frozen shoulder as part of the physical issues.
Also, I have to enlarge my text to write. I use the Colored Note app for my chapters, set to the maximum size of 36, and when I go into Google Docs, I set the size to 25 so I can read it.
Q: What part about writing do you find the most challenging? What’s the easiest?
A: As I mentioned above, the most difficult part is definitely the editing/proofreading process because I have to work so much harder than a normally sighted person, and it takes up a huge chunk of time.
Also, I am very particular in trying to write realistic fiction whenever possible. That means a ton of research. For example, in my story where Molly was shot, Confronting Evil and the Truth, I researched a lot about gunshot wounds and how to care for them. In A Honeymoon Journey, my characters went to Stratford-upon-Avon, and I researched that location thoroughly for many of the chapters. In my latest COVID-19 series, I have followed the pandemic closely in the UK and have added many real situations that have happened there. Research, research, research!
The easiest part is definitely writing the story itself, especially dialogue. I can hear the characters in my head telling me what to write. I rarely suffer from writer’s block, unless I am trying to think about how to write a mystery or crime and how to resolve it.
Aslan's Princess
Q: Where do you find inspiration? Is it something specific? Or multiple things?
A: I find inspiration mainly in two areas. First, from watching episodes over and over and analyzing them. Second, I also find inspiration in my own life, in bringing in real experiences I am familiar with (such as pregnancy and childbirth). Occasionally I will read a story or a review where someone tells me something that sparks my imagination. My current WIP, The Good Book, was actually inspired by a gif-set one of my readers, Penelope Chestnut showed me. It got me wondering what would happen if Sherlock suddenly discovered the Bible (shown in TBB) in his bookcase and decided he wanted some answers about the meaning of life.
Justwritebritt
Q: What drives you to keep writing?
A: Certainly, one of the most motivating factors is hearing from readers who enjoy my work. Readers generally have no clue what kind of power they possess when it comes to encouraging a writer to keep going. A pat on the back is always a good thing. I wish more people could understand that.
Aside from that, though, I feel a calling from God to keep writing. I like sharing my faith through Molly (and Sherlock). My hope is that people will find my stories inspiring and encouraging.
Q: What/Who can you absolutely not write without?
A: I cannot write without my iPad. I use it not only to write, but to research and to watch Sherlock on Netflix. it's my all-in-one resource!
Q: What is your favorite story you've published so far?
A: I will always love A Journey to Love, Faith and Marriage, because it is the “mothership” from which all my other stories spring, but my writing technique was not great at the beginning; there’s an obvious improvement in later chapters. But, I am also very fond of Sherlock’s Dream of What Might Have Been. That one tells a story of Sherlock and Molly meeting in uni, and then jumps to the canon, inserting a secret relationship (and child) throughout the series canon. I put a lot of thought into filling in Season 4 backstory as well.
Q: What (in vague terms) story are you looking forward to telling next?
A: I have a few stories in the pipeline that I am looking forward to sharing. One that steps away from the overt Christian themes is a Pretty Woman AU. I haven't seen anyone attempt an AU for that movie, and I look forward to sharing it. Perhaps it will spark interest with a few more readers because it isn't heavily weighted on the Christian theme scale, but is merely one of my more whimsical, creative story ideas. It is the first story I have written that combines elements from both a movie and the Sherlock narrative.
I also have a couple of one-shots that I will publish in the timeline of my WIP Journey to a New Home, one,that deals with the topic of divorce using a Biblical perspective, plus one that sheds light on the subject of depression.
End of Padt 1.
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