#but i do know my chps are usually people who understand me. the way i am and stuff like that

[collawashbear]

rubs my hands together…

hi can people who have a chosen person explain what that feels like? and how chosen person differs from favorite person? i am incredibly confused about what chp means and what attachment it's supposed to describe lol

[little-reader]

Woody Chp. 2

Masterlist

Carl Grimes x Male!Reader

If you were unaware, this is the second season of "The Son Of A Monster." You may not understand the following if you haven't read the first season. Thank you.

Warnings; SHORT MASTERBATION SCENE, Graphic Gore, Death, blood, Slow-burn, Sexual tension, homosexual relationship (If you didn't know), Cursing, Negan is the Readers dad, Enemies to lovers story. Fighting. Zombie Apocalypse. (The Walking Dead TV show)AMC rights, I do use the storyline and some scenes.

Carl ended up in the woods, a bag in his hand with water and food. He snuck out, there weren’t many people at the gate, so it wasn’t hard. He took the usual path when scouting out they would take a safe route, least walkers. He would just need to get back to the gas station he and his dad were near. He was then going to head into the woods, scope it out, and see if the man was really what he thought.

His feet crunched under his boots. Rick left that morning, by himself. The kingdom was ambushed, giving them limited personnel. Maggie wasn’t sure what they were going to do with the saviors, Aaron had a baby to look over,  and so far, they were winning. Negan hadn’t given up yet, even though he was surrounded completely by snipers and walkers. Carl wasn’t sure why they didn’t back down. He thought they were stupid for doing so, but nowadays, who wasn’t stupid?

Carl crossed very few walkers before he made it to the section of the woods near the gas station. He was able to avoid them, some trail, and got bored once he picked up his pace. 

The section was surrounded by trees and forest, allowing the man to get privacy and somewhat safety. Carl could tell this was it, there were two man-made human-sized toothpicks. 

His feet crept slowly, as the walker reached for a bag up high. He barely waited behind the tree, where he saw the man from before. He crept slowly and stabbed the knife into the walker's head, killing it there. Carl knew, or thought, that was the best time to make himself known. He took a slightly hesitant step, and gave a calm “Hey”, out to the man, who glanced in shock.

Carls hands wavered, and lifted, showing an empty hand and one with a bag in it. He took small steps, watching for roots but keeping an eye out. The man across from him stood in warning, nervous by the stranger. “I was my dad, they were warning shots above your head.” He said, still creeping closer, with a calm expression. He was trying to gain the man's trust or have the man not try to shoot him. It was time for him to introduce himself, this would allow him to bond, just a little, with the man. “Wasn’t shooting at you… I’m Carl.”

The man still didn’t fully let his guard down. He looked tired, hungry, and sweating nervously as he held his knife to his side, but pointed at Carl like he was a threat. He shifted on his feet, taking a slight step and glancing around looking for a way out or possibly more people. He pointed to himself, “Siddiq.” He said, a waver in his voice. 

Carl looked down at the bag, still slowly approaching, and handed it out. “Food and water.”

Siddiq looked confused, his eyebrows pushing together. “Why?”

Carl breathed in, stopping. “I guess, you were talking about something your mom said. About helping people?.” Carl paused and licked his lips. “My mom told me that you gotta do what's right. It’s hard to know what that is sometimes, but sometimes it's not.” Carl took a big step, then threw the bag to the man, still allowing a safe distance from him. 

The bag landed two feet from Siddiq. He looked down, up, and then basically crawled to it. Carl could tell what the man was going through, especially being alone out here, and either being too scared to look for food or being weak and unequal to fight for it.

The man quickly got the bottle of water opened, and gulped it, as some of it ran down his hands. He took a breath and put it down. “Thanks.” 

Carl smiled and nodded. “Glad I found you.”

“You went looking for me?” Siddiq asked, standing up, but still keeping distant. 

“Yeah, I scavenged the sardines and other stuff.” He paused once again, thinking over his words. “Me and my dad were in a community. I’m gonna ask you a few questions.” He needs to know if he really wants to bring the man with him. He started to, slowly, walk toward the man. “I need you to answer honestly, okay?” Siddiq gave the nod, and a short “Okay”, before he continued. “How many walkers have you killed?” There was no answer. “I know it's hard to-”

“237.” Siddiq breathed out, interrupting Carl.

Carl's head tilted with a surprised look, a slight grin on his face, “Really?” Siddiq looked at the walker he just killed, and replied. “Give or take a couple.” Carl continued with the questions. “How many people have you killed?” 

Siddiq swallowed. “One.” 

“Why?”

“Dead tried to kill him but… they didn’t.”

Carl nodded, peering at the ground. “You're making walker traps. Is that how you killed so many?” He questioned, gesturing to the trap, where the dead walker lay.

“It's only part of it… My mom thought, or hoped that killing them would free their souls.” Carl understood that. How, at first, people thought the person was still there. That they saw what they were doing, and wished they weren’t. “You know… maybe she was right.”

“Doing that, doesn’t it make things harder for you while you try to survive?” Carl asked, taking a step closer. 

“I, I don’t know, I… you got, you got to honor your parents, right?” Siddiq stated, giving his answer to why he was doing what he did.

“If I was honoring my dad, we wouldn’t be talking right now.” Carl joked, with a smile. “Or…” He thought about a week beforehand. About letting him go. His smile dropped. “I definitely wouldn’t be bringing you back to my community.” Siddiq looked at him in shock.

That's when they started to walk. He allowed Siddiq to grab his things and pack, even though he didn’t have much, and they set off. The night was approaching in only a few hours, and the fog started to set. It made it harder to see where he was going, but he knew the path well enough to get home. If he could get home, it was a known rule not to go out of the walls in fog because you couldn’t tell where a walker would come from.

Still, they walked on, stepping over logs without tripping, and up a hill when they heard the gargling from afar. They crouched down and tiptoed down the hill, stopping at a tree where they could see the walkers ripping apart an animal, blood covering them and the ground. 

“Hey,” Carl looked at Siddiq and took out his knife. “For your mom.” He stood from his spot and they both went towards the small herd, knives in hands. Carl carried his bookbag off of his back and sat in by a tree as they got closer. 

That was when one of the walkers turned and stood, catching the other's attention. They all saw the two and stumbled for the two, teeth and claws ready. Siddiq was able to kill the first one fine until another came right after. It took Carl a bit to kill the first as more started to follow. Carl wasn’t going to back down. He wanted trust, and he was going to earn it. 

Carl went to help Siddiq but was pushed into another walker. The walker was able to push him down onto the animal corpes, getting too close for comfort as he tried to push it away. His eyes widened as another came closer. Carl pushed the first walker off of him, for another to fall on him. The first, crawled to him, grabbing his clothes, the walker had his mouth an inch away. He knew in a second he couldn’t get the walker off on time.

Suddenly, Siddiq was pulling the walker off of him with a knife in the other. This allowed Carl to breathe faster than a car. His heart raced, and his eyes watered, but not to the point of crying. Carl wished a different boy was pulling that thing off of him. His hand clutched his shirt as Siddiq held his hand out.

Carl saw a slight image flash in his mind. It was not the hand of Siddiq, but nonother than Y/n fucking Smith. He wished. Full heartedly wished. The smile, the white teeth, the stupid fucking smirk, and the one closed eye due to the sun. But in the blink of an eye, reality hit again. The scared, blood-covered man in front of him, not his partner.

... A week ago

Bullets rang. He was on his knees one second, the next moving out of the line of fire as the war started, really started. It felt like slow motion. The movements, voices, and bangs around him.

He felt blood dripping from his temple where he slammed his head, making sure not to get shot. It was not going as planned. “Shit,” Y/n muttered, feeling the warmth on the side of his head.

He knew the plan well, and getting out of the shooting line was his priority. He felt the mud push under his fingernails as he crawled on his hands and knees, making sure to keep his backpack safely on. 

Y/n was able to make it to a wall, where the gate was kept. He had a choice, jump over it and dodge the biters on the other side, get in one of the cars without getting shot, or get eaten by the mob of biters Dixion was bringing down the freeway.

“Fuck. Motherfucker.” He cursed, looking at the cars leaving. His thoughts rolled. He had no other choice. He jumped the long gate, hitting the wires at the top, The wires slid down his face and cut through his shirt. “Ahhhh, shit.” He whispered and yelled, stomping his feet. He felt the burn on his face and arm as he secured his bag and ran for the hills.

Y/n had made it a mile into the woods before stopping. The pain wasn’t extreme, but it still hurt like a bitch. The gash on his arm wasn’t too bad, enough for him to get home fine but continued to bleed. “I'll be fine.” He whispered to himself, sighing. He remembered his backpack and grabbed it off his back. The med kit was safely placed in the side pocket. There were no bandages, and he wasn’t going to waste his time on making a line of bandaids. 

He sighed and placed the kit back in the bag. He would just have to hit one of the houses. And the closest safe house was only a mile and a half. “Shit dangerous…dad could come looking for me. They could get out of that mess, they will. That would just put him in danger.” His thoughts were loud as he set off deeper into the woods. 

He had a plan. Lose the tracks. He’d take the longer route just in case someone was able to find him or see him jump the gate. Then he’d make his way back to Alexandria. 

His feet stepped along the roots and dead leaves, making his way through the autumn air. It was getting colder and the only thing he had, was a thin shirt on. The house wasn’t so far, and he would be able to make it. That's how he kept his thoughts, golden.

Y/n whistled as he went, the little toon his mother once sang to him. The toon was light, and calming in opposition to his current situation. The whistling allowed him to slip away from the world, and forget about what happened, or forget the very situation he was in. He could hear his mother singing it. He could feel the sway of the rocking chair and the slight breeze of the porch breeze. Then the smell of rain, the drip drop on the AC unit, once helping him sleep, is now a nightmare to hear. 

Once, Negan, his mother, and he went on a trip to North Carolina, to see a War ship, it rained that day. They stopped nearby and grabbed a bottle that had a ship in it. He remembers sitting on the porch staring at it as it floated in the fake water, and moved with each shake but failed to never sink. His mother would say, “You are that boat, and you will forever be that boat.” Y/n never understood what she meant, he just stared at her, then right back at the ship with a smile. 

Those fond memories of the old world. The smell of his baseball games. The soil he slid onto, the mud that would track his clothes, shoes, and body. The icepacks or frozen peas his mother would gently apply on his bruises after each game as she praised her son for doing a good job, relating him to his father. The proud smile on both his parent's faces, as he hit his first home run, racing for the hills as his name was hollered by Y/n’s teammates. 

Before Y/n knew it, he was in front of the home, with his hand reaching into his back pocket to fetch the key. 

His arm still bled as he entered the house, not troubling himself to care as he made his way to the bathroom down the hall. He flashed on the lights, squinting as he looked up into the mirror, jerking at his reflection. He couldn’t exactly tell whose blood was on him, his, or someone else. However, there was a gash riding from the side of his chin to the start of his cheek. He realized the wound wasn’t too large, but it was the main cause of bleeding. Y/n searched through the medicine cabinet and used a cloth to wrap around his arm before laying out his supplies on the counter. He sat on the toilet, taking a cotton swap and gradually cleaning up the bloodied mess on his arm, wincing every occasional minute. The man skillfully sewed up the wound, the needle and thread gliding effortlessly through the flesh. With the task finished, he then moved on to carefully tending to his injured chin.

He made his way upstairs, not bothering to clean up his mess or the clutter he had made.

As he laid his head down on the pillow, which allowed him to sink in, he felt the weight of the past days lifting off his shoulders. The softness of the pillow provided a comforting embrace, easing the tension in his body as he closed his eyes. He kicked his shoes off, feeling the freedom of letting go of the day's conditions. With each deep breath, he felt himself slipping into a peaceful state of mind, leaving behind the rush and groan of the outside world. It was in this moment of quiet that he found comfort, in his bed, as it began to pass noon and go into the evening.

He felt himself sigh and roll over. His hand slid under his pillow, bringing out the small stack of papers. He moved them around until he found the picture of him and his mother. He ran his thumb over it, the corner of his mouth turning up. That smile reflected her own, the ice cream in her hands melted slightly. 

He could feel the slight ache of his arm, and chin, and the healing stab wound. With that slightly uncomfortable sting, he shifted back onto his back, staring at the roof, the old mold that dried out on the cracks that were engraved into the ceiling. Another thing to fix. 

Y/n moved his fingertips along his torso, making it ticklish in a way. His eyes closed as his other hand wiped down his face, feeling the prick of his forming beard, and entangled into his hair. He needed a shower, not that he could smell himself, even though he was probably used to the smell either way. 

He felt his fingers stop at the crack of his shirt, where his skin poked out from the stretch. He opened his eyes and sighed before moving his hand down, and slowly grabbing himself through his pants. One thing he was taught, don’t let your guard down when alone. He assured himself it was a fine, day, and he could hear outside. He swallowed, covering one side of his face with his hand, and rubbing himself with a groan.

⁶He breathed in, taking his hand to his face and spitting on his palm, then slipped his hand into his pants, and below his boxers as another groan fell from his mouth. His hand wrapped around his dick with a whine. Now, speaking of how he literally just got out on the verge of death, though he really didn’t care, it was a bit weird. He put it off. 

The room was filled with quiet groans and grunts as his palm lifted up, and then back down in a repeating movement. He could imagine Carl doing it, which he did. But he knew Carl was young, inexperienced, and a bit dumb, but who was he to talk?

He closed his eyes, imagining Carls had, a lot softer than his, but still rough in their own way. The nervousness, the hesitation, the slight stutter he had at certain points. It was cute, and hot at the time.

He swallowed a groan and pumped himself faster feeling the whine in the back of his throat. “Mother of fucking mary.” The curse fell from his lips as he gripped himself and groaned, head pushing back into the pillow and his teeth barring a grunt that shoved from his throat. Y/n bit into his tongue before it left his mouth and let another groan into his arm.

He would have melted under Carl's touch then and there. He let a moan slip from his mouth as he hit his peak. Stroking a few more times before letting go, panting breaths “Jesus.” He muttered, under his breath, feeling slightly embarrassed by how long he lasted. “You're a cunt.” He said to himself as he shifted in the bed and made himself comfortable.

He stared up at the ceiling, his finger circling his stomach. “What am I gonna do.” he groaned, finally closing his eyes.

--

@stiveroon

@ritospart

[stylinsoncity]

Hey! Long time reader, first time... ask sender? I read caya more than a year ago and ever since it's been a constant presence in my life, as if in I think about it at least once a day, and re-read it at random, all the time. I'm usually pretty aromantic and caya is the only work of romance fiction that I liked, ever. One of the reasons why I'm so obsessed with it is that I love the story and I love the characters, but I also don't fully understand it, it's, at this point in my life, too mature for me to fully comprehend. So it's one of these things you keep close hoping that one day you'll get it. I'm 19, so not a lot of experience in life and none in the romance department, and in that idealistic everything is black/white right/wrong phase of life, and caya, with it's complex humans and emotions and motives is kinda unreachable for me. And when presented with something like that, I'm usually just annoyed by it, but I wasn't at all with caya, I immediately just had some kind of respect for it, like, this is simply too complex for you. But anyways, onto the point of this ask. When I re-read it's usually parts after Barbados, so I kinda forgot everything that happens in the begining. I started from chapter 1 today and I was at the part where we meet Emily, and I realized I kinda forgot what she's like, and I'm paying way more attention to the bits about her now. I was wondering if you always knew she was going to die, or if you considered some alternatives. I haven't really wondered before what would've happened if she wasn't sick. I think in any other story, killing of a character like that would be in order to simplify it, but that's not the case with caya. So did you ever consider a different ending for her?

Thank you for this ask! And thank you for stating so clearly how the story makes you feel. I do think caya comes from a place within me of realizing that things aren't black/white or right/wrong. I've experienced love and friendship where that's not the case and it doesn't lessen the value or the importance of those relationships at all. It's actually still something I struggle to comprehend, though, too. Like I still do wish people could just do the right thing all the time, but that assumes that we always know what the right thing is. And I definitely don't. I wish we were never disappointed or periodically let down by people we care about. I get frustrated when this isn't the case. But then I realize that I've let people down. I've made mistakes. It's human to fail and to blunder and to misunderstand. And the only way we like move forward and grow is by extending grace to others and to ourselves. Soooo much easier said than done though. Life is fucking hard lmao... caya is so important to me because it reflects that, but ends on a happy note, which is all we can hope for.

I wish there was a way to save Emily just because it's an awful way for anyone to die. She had so much life left to live and it would've been nice for her to fall in love with someone who could actually fall in love with her. But from the beginning, I always knew her illness would be terminal. I don't think a divorce would be enough to set Louis free of her, unfortunately. I think hitting rock bottom and being completely alone and having to resuscitate himself is what leads Louis to self-actualization. In the absence of love (which I equate with grief), he knows what he needs to fully heal is Harry's love. Nothing else will do.

I don't think he would have hit rock bottom in the same way if Emily lived. And I don't think if she were to go on living, they would have the honest conversation they do in her hospital room in chp 20. I don't know. I can't picture it, but maybe there's a universe where Emily lives and Louis sees the light by some other means. I have to say, a part of me always regrets killing characters solely because it's sad, even when I think it's necessary for the story. Like I wish she didn't die, but then there'd be no story. Or there'd be a different story that doesn't hit the same way!

[b10hzrd]

The Tides of Fate- Chp 4

As the sun began to set, nightfall approaching, Ophelia approached Corbin. She moved with her usual grace, but there was a hint of concern in her eyes as she looked at him.

“How are you holding up?”

Corbin’s eyes flickered open, and he met her gaze. Despite his fatigue and discomfort, he couldn’t help but be captivated by her presence. 

“I’ve had better days,” he replied, his voice hoarse.

Ophelia smiled sympathetically, “I truly am sorry for what happened yesterday, but you wouldn’t let me get a word out, I was just so frustrated.

“I understand, I must apologize as well, I was overwhelmed and let my emotions get the better of me. But you must understand, for an entire decade I thought you were…” 

“Gone?” she finished his sentence.

Corbin nodded slowly, his eyes not leaving hers. “I’m just glad you’re alive. Even if it’s under these circumstances.”

Ophelia sighed, looking away for a moment. “It’s a complicated life, Corbin. But it’s my life now.”

“I wish things were different,” Corbin said quietly. “I wish you hadn’t been dragged into this world.”

“Sometimes I wish for the same thing.”

“So then why?” Corbin asked, his voice tinged with desperation. “Why would you choose this path, Ophelia? You had so much potential and so many opportunities. Why throw it all away for this?”

Ophelia’s expression hardened slightly, a defensive edge creeping into her eyes. “You think I chose this? You think I wanted to end up here?”

“I just…I just can’t grasp how you went from being who you were…to this.”

“And what do you know of who I was?! I was weak, naive, and foolish!”

“You were not foolish!”

“Yes, I was. That is how I got into this predicament in the first place. Life isn’t as simple as you think, Corbin. Not everyone has the luxury life you do. Some of us fight for every scrap of freedom we get.” Tears started to well in Ophelias' eyes.

“Feelya I…”

“Don’t you dare call me that again. We are not children anymore, I have matured and so should you, Corbin,” she said sternly. “You’ve always had privilege—a family, wealth, security. I had none of that. I had to make my way, and sometimes, your only choices are the hard ones.”

“Why does everyone assume my privilege means I haven’t had to make sacrifices?!” Corbin's voice grew with anger.

Ophelia’s expression turned cold. “You’ve never had to choose between starving and stealing. You’ve never had to sell your soul just to survive another day.”

Corbin’s heart ached at her words, but his pride wouldn’t let him back down. “Maybe not, but do not think for a moment my life has been without struggle.”

Ophelia shook her head, her eyes filled with anger and sadness. “You’ll never understand, Corbin. You can’t possibly understand what it’s like to fight for every scrap of dignity.”

“It’s not too late,” Corbin pleaded, his voice cracking with emotion. “You can still change your path.”

She laughed bitterly, a harsh sound that cut through the night. “And do what, Corbin? Go back to a world that chewed me up and spat me out? I made my choice. This is where I belong now.”

`Corbin’s frustration boiled over. “You’re just running away! You’re better than this, better than them! I know you are!”

Ophelia’s face hardened. “You don’t get to tell me who I am. You don’t know me anymore, Corbin. I can’t believe I thought a prince of all people would be able to understand this, you haven’t changed, still so ignorant to those around you.”

Corbin's heart pounded with desperation as he watched Ophelia turn away from him, her words echoing in his mind. He strained against the ropes binding him, wishing he could reach out to her.

"Feelya," he called out, his voice rough with emotion. "Please, don't go."

Ophelia paused for a moment, her back still turned to him. Corbin held his breath, hoping against hope that she would reconsider, that she would turn back and give him another chance.

“I told you not to call me that, Your Highness.”

With a heavy sigh, she continued on her way. Corbin slumped against his bonds; his heart heavy with defeat.

“Women, am I right?” A gruff voice startled the prince, the white-haired pirate who had held a sword to his throat. He was leaning against the mast, somehow, he managed to stay out of sight.

“Please excuse me, I didn't mean to startle you, Your Highness.” He approached Corbin and grinned. 

Corbin was confused as to why this pirate was trying to make conversation with him.

“Are you here to patronize me?”

The white-haired pirate chuckled, shaking his head. "No, just offering some company. My name’s Elliot, by the way. Figured you could use a friendly face, given the circumstances."

“How come I haven't seen you around then?”

“I tend to stick to my duties, it seems Gulliver and Marina are already doing a well enough job keeping you tied up, so, I didn't think I should involve myself.” Elliot seemed very laid-back; it was a refreshing thing to see.

“So then, why are you involving yourself now?”

“Well after eavesdropping on your conversation with our navigator, it seems you both have a past together, and I wish to know more.”

Corbin rolled his eyes, “So you can use it against me later? I’ll pass.” 

Elliot chuckled, “If I wanted to use anything against you I would have already, you and Ophelia aren’t as discrete as you may think.”

The prince looked away and went red, maybe Ophelia was right about him being loud.

“Don’t worry too much, I’m sure no one else heard your, might I add, quite loud, bickering,” he teased.

Corbin looked down in shame.

“Look, if you do not want to, I understand, I wouldn’t trust us, pathetic pirates, either.” Elliot mocked the tied-up prince. Corbin began to become irritated with Elliot’s prying,

“Why do you want to know?” he spat.

The white-haired pirate's gaze hardened, “I have heard every single crew member's story on this ship, even the ones who have left, the one person who refuses is our navigator. I hate not knowing who is on my ship, she could betray us, and she could kill one of my friends. The people on this ship are my family, ever since she came along, I can’t shake this feeling, that she’s hiding something from us. Something that could endanger us all.”

“Ophelia isn't like that,” he said firmly. “She wouldn’t betray anyone without good reason.”

Elliot's eyes narrowed. "And how do you know that? People change, Your Highness. A decade is a long time. She's not the girl you remember. She's a pirate now, and pirates do what they have to do to survive."

“I know her heart,” Corbin clenched his fists. “I may not know how she got wrapped up in all this mess, but I know she’s still the girl I once knew, deep down.”

“I don’t doubt your sincerity, Your Highness, I just—” Elliot sighed, “—If Ophelia has a past that could affect my crew, my family, I need to know.”

Corbin began to sympathize with him. “Fine. I'll tell you what I know. But you must promise me no harm will come to her.”

“You have my word.”

Corbin took a deep breath, his mind going back to his childhood memories.

“My parents were never concerned about the lives of the common folk. They kept me within the palace walls, sheltered from the outside world. One night, I heard music and laughter coming from the village, which was the first time I decided to sneak out of the palace.” 

Elliot sat down next to him, leaning casually against the mast. “Didn’t know His Highness had a rebellious side,” he joked.

“Well back then it was easy, the palace guards weren't particularly attentive, and it wasn't difficult to sneak past them.”

“I see”

“The village was a completely different world, it was fascinating, and it was where I met Ophelia. While the commoner festival was going on, everyone dancing and enjoying themselves, she was buried in a book,” he smiled to himself. “It was like the world around her didn’t matter.”

Elliot laughed, “Sounds just like her, she reads Caster’s poetry like a proud mother would.”

“Caster?”

“Our cabin boy, well, I shouldn't say boy anymore, he’s eighteen now. Blonde hair and sounds like he’s still becoming a man despite his age.”

Corbin realized who he was referring to. The lanky pirate who had been making a map of the palace back in Azalea.

“My apologies, continue.”

Corbin nodded. “She intrigued me, so I decided to try and pursue a friendship with her.”

“A friendship, you say?” Elliot smirked at the prince.

Corbin cleared his throat, “A friendship. We became very close friends. I did not care for her status, I cared for her. I wanted to be able to protect her, being with her was the only thing that could bring me joy. She understood me, more than anyone ever could.”

Elliot placed a hand on Corbin’s shoulder and gave him a reassuring glance, it seemed like he could relate to the prince's feelings.

“One night, our kingdom was attacked, I wasn't allowed to know any details, but the following night I snuck out to see if Ophelia was okay and she was just gone, her house left abandoned. She left a poetry book and a note behind, both addressed to me.”

“What did the note say if, you don’t mind.”

“My dearest, Corbin, Im sorry I didn’t bid you farewell. I hope you are able to find your purpose, even if that means forgetting you ever knew me.”  Corbin had memorized the note, he had read it every night, looking for something he may have missed. The comma written after “My dearest,” made him smile every time he would read it. A simple stroke on a note consumed his thoughts.

“And you never found out why she disappeared?”

“All I managed to find was that her mother was a widow who didn’t have the cleanest record, but I don't know if that has anything to do with it. Now I find her here, and it’s like my world has come crashing down.”

The two men sat in silence for a moment.

“Thank you for sharing that information with me, although I still don’t fully trust Ophelia, I finally know more of her story.”

“What’s your story?” Corbin asked unintentionally, he spoke his thoughts out loud by mistake. “My apologies, you don't have to answer that.”

Elliot's gaze turned distant; his eyes clouded with memories of a painful past.

 “I suppose it’s only fair since you shared some of yours.” He gave a pained smile. “I was married once, had a daughter,” he began. 

“They were my everything—my reason for living in this cruel world.” Elliot took a deep breath, “We lived a simple life, I was a shipwright, and my wife, Clara, was a teacher before we had our daughter, after she gave birth to Lily she decided to stay home and take care of her.” 

His voice began to tremble, “One night, everything changed, raiders attacked our town, they came from nowhere, and no one was prepared to defend the town, nor dared to.”

Corbin listened intently.

“I tried to fight them off, to protect my family, but it was no use. I wasn't nearly strong enough to fend them all off. I watched as they took everything from me—my wife, my daughter, my home, everything.”

Tears welled in Elliot’s eyes, but he quickly brushed them away. “After that night, I had nothing. No reason to keep living, except for one thing, revenge.”

Elliot continued, “As they say, revenge can only get you so far. I spent years trying to find the people responsible for my family’s death, but in the end, my search got me nowhere. Until Captain Elara found me drinking my sorrows away, she took pity on me and let me stay on her ship until I got myself together. That’s when I decided to become a pirate, I realized the friendships I made on this ship, were enough to make me stay.”

"I'm sorry for your loss," Corbin said softly, his voice filled with genuine empathy.

“Thank you, my story is a rough one to tell, but so is everyone else’s here. We all have our reasons for joining the crew, we all have stories that make us the pirates that we are.”

“I never thought of it that way, I used to always think that pirates were people with no moral compass.”

“Well, I’m glad I was able to expand your thinking.” Elliot stood up and stretched.

“I’m beat, I think it's time for me to turn in for the night,” He yawned. “Sleep well, Your Highness.”

“Why do you use my title?”

“Oh, well, I don’t know, I suppose I just do it out of habit,” Elliot replied with a sheepish grin. “Being a shipwright meant I worked with a lot of royals, I guess old habits die hard.”

Corbin chuckled, “Well, I’m fine with you just calling me Corbin, from now on.”

“Noted,” Elliot nodded.

With a nod of farewell, Elliot made his way below deck, leaving Corbin alone with his thoughts. As he watched the pirate disappear into the darkness of the ship, Corbin couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude for the unexpected bond that had formed between them.

[writing-gifts]

both sides of the viewfinder chp. 1

adult film star!bruno x afab!reader  (they are also gn)

this is 18+ content

summary:  Bruno's interested in you and you're interested in him. It's only a matter of time.

chapter 1 || chapter 2 || chapter 3 || chapter 4

------

A/N: okay so this is gonna be 3 chapters. the last chapter’s smut, but there’s pretty suggestive stuff happening in the 2nd chapter

i did research for this and wanted to try to make it more on the realistic side but there's always the chance that i messed up somewhere, so if you wanna point it out go ahead. it'll be good to know for the future!

------

This wasn't your first time filming for sex work but you felt a little out of your element. The studio that recently hired you was much bigger than what you were used to and considering that you were mainly doing freelance work before, this made everything feel much more professional and serious. Their work had to be highly produced.

"--We aren’t super strict about that, but you should definitely tell me before you go anywhere."

Right now, you were being given a quick tour by one of the people you'd be working with--the Director of Photography. Jocelyn was pretty much your manager and would be giving you most of the orders.

You continue to follow behind her as she continues to show you around. But you couldn't help eyeing the high quality lights and cameras you pass as she talked though. The equipment must have been worth a lot.

Once she has finished showing you around, she leads you back to the set filled with the crew that you passed earlier.

You listen closely as she goes over the details of the film.

"This will be the room where the main scene will take place. Today we will have you operating one of the stationary cameras, but since you’ve done stuff like this before I decided to let you do it without someone breathing down your neck. Just follow my orders."

You like the woman already. "Thank you."

"The shoot will start in--" she checks her watch, "--about an hour. Today is just filming for you but you know you’ll be doubling up as a runner when necessary. We might also have you help with other tasks while you work here too."

You nod to show you understand.

She smiles, "If you have any questions don't be afraid to ask me or any of your co-workers. Try to avoid asking the director though…."

-------

You adjust the headphones on your head as you stand in front of the camera you'd be in charge of today.

Working it should be simple enough since you didn't have to actually move. You just needed to make sure it stayed in focus so they had more options when it came to angles.

About 10 minutes later, the two actors starring today show up dressed in fairly nice clothes that they wouldn't be wearing for too long. One of them seemed quite friendly with everyone. He must be pretty popular you think.

Before you can recede to your thoughts, you recognize him.

Is that Bruno Bucciarati?

You quickly confirm that it is and turn your body away from him and towards the camera, as if doing that would hide you. You weren't necessarily a stan but you did follow him on social media. And perhaps you did subscribe to his OnlyFans. And there's a good chance you paid money for some of his work.

It wasn't your fault that he was one of the few male stars you found attractive!

You shake your head. This was work. Don't get starstruck.

Luckily, it doesn't take you long to get distracted with the camera. You rarely get to operate such expensive equipment like this so you find yourself looking at all it had to offer.

While you neglect socializing with the people you would be working with from now on, someone comes up to you.

"You look so focused."

Your eyes widen from the sudden voice and you pull down your headphones as you look to the side. "Oh sorry--" When you see who it is the rest of your statement dies in your throat.

However, Bruno isn't deterred by your abrupt stop. "You must be the new camera person."

You stare a second too long before nodding.

He holds out a hand and you have to calm your shaking one before reaching out and grabbing his. His hand was really warm.

“Nice to meet you, my name's Bruno Bucciarati."

"I'm ____. I've actually seen some of your work before! You really are as handsome as in the videos."

Even though you're straight-faced, you were regretting what you just said. It was a simple compliment but what if it was too much? His looks did astound you though, there was no denying it. And you really didn't understand how he managed to pull off that haircut.

You smile to ease the tension within yourself and Bruno returns it. Whether it was genuine or out of politeness you didn't know, but it helps you relax.

"Thank you," he says.

“Okay everyone get in your damn places! We’ll be starting soon!”

Your brows raise at the director’s choice of words.

Bruno turns back to you. "Well, let's do our best to get through this."

You nod and watch him walk towards the bed where his co-star is waiting, and the director immediately starts going over what he wants the two of them to do once he’s there.

You decide to do a quick second check on your camera to make sure everything is still working properly before waiting patiently for the director to start.

------

Between some cuts and breaks, filming’s done about 6 hours later. You’d been informed about the typical work time so you weren't surprised. The porn from this studio was highly produced, with a few “amateur” looking works thrown in, so it was the norm. But this was the longest you had worked on one film. So depending on how particular the director was, you would need to be prepared to do at least several hours of filming when behind the camera.

You rub your eyes. It's only 4 pm but you're yearning for your bed. You could only imagine how tired the actors were.

Right after you turn off the camera, Jocelyn calls you over.

"You did well today and looks like you don't need any serious training. Good job!" she praises.

You guessed you passed the new hire "test". That gave you a bit of an energy boost and you can't help the smile on your face.

While you remove the camera from its tripod, you begin to retreat to your mind. And of course, your mind wanders to a certain actor.

Bruno was good at what he did. Really good. And the other actor seemed to genuinely enjoy working with him too. For a second, you wonder what it's like.

You glance up and accidentally make eye contact with a now fully clothed Bruno. The man walks towards you and even though you had watched him just have sex for multiple hours, you feel nervous.

“What’s up?” you ask when he's close enough.

"Nothing. I like to check up on newcomers, but you must have worked in this field for a while since they usually tend to have some hang ups."

"Uh yea. I've been doing stuff like this for awhile. Good work today by the way."

"Same with you. It was long but things went as smoothly as they could."

You nod in agreement and finish folding up the tripod. “They did, but honestly that one position you were in looked super uncomfortable! Is your back okay?”

The man laughs. “I'll be fine. That was pretty tame to be fair.”

“Wow, you must be super fit or flexible then...” You notice your coworkers walking off with equipment and decide its best to end the conversation so you can follow them. "Oh, I need to put away this stuff. Thanks for checking up on me though!"

Bruno smiles at you and you scurry off with the camera and the tripod.

-----

You'd been here a week so far. Each day varied with things to do and you never really knew what you'd exactly be working on until you got to the studio.

For today you had a list of various tasks but the first one was conducting a pre-shoot interview with the actors for the porn being shot in an hour.

You look through the viewfinder at the two men sitting on the couch. You were already recording but the interview hadn't started just yet.

“It’s been awhile since I've done an interview so bear with me...” you mumble while going over the questions in your head.

“No pressure ____,” Bruno says.

The man doesn't seem bothered but Prosciutto, on the other hand, isn’t as laid back.

“You should at least have a list of questions prepared,” the blonde says.

"Yep right here!" You pull out a piece of paper from your pocket. From the list you could tell this collaboration had been long requested by their fans.

“I did my best to remember it but just in case…” You place the paper on a surface out of view.

You readjust the camera on your shoulder before speaking again. “Okay, let's start with names you say.”

You focus the camera on Bruno. You wish you had a tripod, but they were insistent on having you walk around with the damn thing to make it feel more “personal”.

"I’m Bruno Bucciarati."

You then turn the camera to focus on Prosciutto.

"I’m Prosciutto."

“So I know this is the first time you both are working together. How are we feeling?”

Bruno smiles. “I'm feeling pretty good and ready to work. How about you, Prosciutto?”

“Pretty much how I do before any shoot.”

“And what's that?” you ask.

Prosciutto crosses his arms. “Mostly relaxed but looking forward to it of course.”

"That's good. I know it'll be tiring filming and from how highly requested this seems to be, the director's going to want this to be perfect. But I'm hoping you guys still have fun."

"I'm sure we will, but I still don't know why so many people wanted us to work together," Prosciutto says.

Bruno nods. "Agreed. I feel like we’ve rarely interacted until now."

"Well people like seeing attractive people together. And I've actually seen fancams of you two interacting on Twitter. It's pretty entertaining!"

“You search those up?” Bruno asks.

“No, they just show up on my timeline sometimes.”

“...So you're a fan of Bruno then?” You weren't sure why but you sense a bit of judgement coming from Prosciutto.

"A little, but let's move on." You take a peek at the paper. "So who’s receiving and who’s catching?"

You raise a brow at how the question’s phrased.

Bruno looks at Prosciutto. “Don't you think we should let the film speak for itself.”

The blonde hums in agreement. “If they need to know so badly, they can skip ahead.”

“True. I think either way would be fun to watch though,” you say.

“Definitely. You should let me know what you think later.” Bruno says.

You don't mean to smile but it's already happening. "Sure."

“You're real unprofessional flirting with the camera person in the middle of an interview,” Prosciutto chides.

“It's just some banter. Are you jealous?”

Prosciutto tsks at Bruno's statement.

You shake your head deciding not to acknowledge those comments. The editor would have to cut out that bit. The two seemed to get along well enough for work but you had a feeling they would get on each other's nerves if they stayed together too long.

“Okay so this is definitely a good question to ask next. What do you guys like about each other? Either personality or physical wise."

Prosciutto glances at Bruno before speaking. “I can admit that the man has a nice….physique.”

You grin. "You sound like I'm putting a gun to your head."

The man fixes you with a very unamused look but you continue on smiling.

"What about you Bruno?" you ask.

“Well he has an attractive face and body, of course. His stubbornness is enjoyable at times too.”

“Stubbornness?”

Prosciutto seems to have the same question as you because he looks at Bruno for his explanation.

“Yes it's a good trait to have in certain situations.” Bruno returns the blonde’s stare. “It'll also make seeing him unravel much more interesting.”

The two of them are now looking at each other very intently and you feel like you should leave the room. But you need to finish the interview.

“Nice...so this is the last question. Is there anything specific you two are looking forward to?”

Fortunately, the two of them can still hear you and respond.

Bruno hums, “I suppose it's been awhile since I've given a blowjob, so there's that.”

"...And I'm looking forward to receiving one."

You let out a chuckle, “Okay, Prosciutto I see what you're about.” You quickly skim the list of interview questions. "Well looks like that's it! You guys ready to go?”

They both give you their positive answers.

“Then let's get you guys ready for the shoot."

Bruno smiles while Prosciutto's face stays neutral.

After that statement you stop recording.

“Okay, nice job guys!” You look at the clock on the wall. “That went pretty fast. So you can go ahead and head to the set.”

Prosciutto nods and exits the room but Bruno stays behind.

“Are you going to be helping film for the shoot?” he asks.

You gently place the camera down on the table where you left the paper.

“No, I have to go out and buy some things for something being filmed later this week. And then I have to go do some other stuff around the studio…” You laugh, “They really have me running around!”

Bruno looks slightly concerned. “You’d prefer to stay behind the camera the whole time right?”

“Yep but that's okay. I already knew what I was getting into, and I get paid better pretty well for it.” You look back up at the clock. “I’ll definitely be back for the interview after filming though so I should see you then.”

Bruno nods. "Okay, good luck with your errands."

----

By the end of the day, you're exhausted. Your list of tasks wasn't hard, you just ended up moving a lot more than you planned. You even almost forgot to take your break in your hustle.

When you return to your apartment, you eat something and take a quick shower before dressing up for bed. And once you're snuggled up in your covers, you decide to check your Twitter to see if anything interesting has happened.

While scrolling through the random posts retweeted throughout the day, you happen upon a pretty suggestive picture of Bruno in lingerie. He posted it not too long ago.

Nice.

You click on his icon to check his page to see if there’s anything else new, and under his username notice the words follows you.

Your eyes widen and you double check and refresh to make sure you're not seeing things. You go into your notifications and see that he followed you a couple hours ago. You really weren't sure what to do. It would be weird if you messaged him, right?

You take a deep breath and decide to take the chance. Bruno probably got hundreds of messages so it shouldn't be a big deal.

hi, i saw that you followed me. just making sure you didn't make a mistake lol

Before you can overthink it you send the message. After that you go back to his page and like and retweet the lingerie photo, but you still need a distraction so you wouldn't obsess over a possible reply. When you're thinking of getting out of bed, a message from Bruno pops up.

You quickly open it to see the full message.

No mistakes here. I searched you up and saw that you already followed me so I wanted to follow back.

It's not the first time you've been followed by pornstars or coworkers you worked with, but it was honestly still rare. And something about it being Bruno made your heart beat faster. You momentarily think about everything you retweeted in the last hour, before sending a message back.

oh okay, thx! i'll try not to bother you too much, you probably get a lot of messages

A few seconds pass before you get another reply.

Not necessarily. I have DMs off for people I don't follow. I love my fans but they can get...rowdy. Either way, you can message me whenever you want.

Wow, what would you even talk about with Bruno outside of work related things...

oh, that makes sense. well i guess i’ll take you up on the offer ^^

You see the three dots going for a while before another message appears.

I saw you retweeted my picture.

Your heart skips a beat.

oh god, now i feel embarrassed all of a sudden!

No don’t be. I'm glad you like it.

You smile to yourself.

yea, you look really good in lingerie ...you look good in anything tbh or without anything lmao

You feel like you're about to say something really embarrassing if this conversation continues and quickly type up another message before he can respond.

i’m really tired so i’m going to get ready for bed

The three dots disappear for a moment before showing up again.

Shame, I would have liked talking more. But I understand, you looked really exhausted during the post interview.

yea i was but it’s no biggie and we can message later ❤

Okay then, sleep well ____.

good night 😴

You close out of the app after that and honestly, that went way better than you were expecting.

[icedflames]

Can you possibly lay out the reasons why Lucien isn’t a viable option for Elain based on the text? I feel like there are some people that just don’t understand. I’m not trying to be mean, I’m asking because I know you’ll answer respectfully.

Hmm, I don’t think Lucien and Elain would be a bad couple... But I agree, I just don’t think it’s a viable option at this point. 

I think there’s really two reasons: (1) the way Elain and Lucien have been written up until this point and (2) the timing and structure of the last two books.

Elain and Lucien’s Relationship

Lucien is part of Elain’s trauma.

From the shadows near a side door, two figures emerged. I began shaking my head as if I could unsee it as Lucien and Tamlin stepped into the light. (ACOMAF, Chp. 63)

While Lucien does not anticipate that the sisters would be kidnapped, he still participated in Elain’s trauma and Elain is highly aware of that. 

But Elain blinked slowly. “You were in Hybern.” 

“Yes.” It was all he could say. 

“You betrayed us.” (ACOWAR, Chp. 24)

Back to the cauldron scene...

Elain’s foot hit the water, and she screamed—screamed in terror that hit me so deep I began sobbing. “Please,” I said to none of them. (ACOMAF, Chp. 65)

&

And Elain, as if she’d been thrown by a wave, washed onto the stones facedown. Her legs were so pale—so delicate. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d seen them bare. (ACOMAF, Chp. 65)

&

Elain was still shivering on the wet stones, her nightgown shoved up to her thighs, her small breasts fully visible beneath the soaked fabric. Guards snickered. (ACOMAF, Chp. 65)

Elain is the first to go into the Cauldron. Nobody knew if she would live. She’s kicking the cauldron, screaming, and it’s awful all around. She’s laid bare, completely stripping her of her own modesty. Her own sister can’t remember the last time she had seen her sister’s bare legs. The guards are laughing at her nudity. It’s so humiliating and traumatizing. 

Not only that, but Elain is unwillingly stripped of humanity.

Then Lucien comes into the picture. 

As Lucien took off his jacket, kneeling before Elain. She cringed away from the coat, from him. (ACOMAF, Chp. 65)

&

Lucien’s hands slackened at his sides. His voice broke as he whispered to Elain, “You’re my mate.” (ACOMAF, Chp. 65)

Lucien does not have ill intent, but he laid a claim on her. Not only is Elain not human now, but now she has a mate. A stranger she has never met is now bonded to her forever. 

She has been stripped of her choice to stay human, her choice to choose who she wants to be with.

Lucien’s involvement in that trauma makes it very difficult for the two of them to overcome that. Possible, but difficult. I believe that if SJM wanted to go that route, it would have been sweet and believable.. But then we get the rest of ACOWAR, ACOFAS, and ACOSF...

In ACOWAR, Elain and Lucien have very little progression in their relationship. 

Lucien could not figure out what was wrong with Elain. 

He weighed my tone, and crossed his arms. “Let me do something. About Elain. I heard—from my room. Everything that happened just now. It wouldn’t hurt to have a healer look her over. Externally and internally.”

I was tired enough that I could barely summon the breath to ask, “Do you think the Cauldron made her insane?”

“I think she went through something terrible,” Lucien countered carefully. “And it wouldn’t hurt to have your best healer do a thorough examination.” (ACOWAR, Chp. 27)

Elain was... not herself after the Cauldron. She was withdrawn and depressed. Saying nonsensical things. 

The ancient healer jerked her chin toward Lucien. “See what he can do. If anyone can sense if something is amiss, it’s a mate.” (ACOWAR Chp. 28)

&

“Lucien murmured to me, eye still fixed on Elain, “Should we—does she need …?”

“She doesn’t need anything,” Azriel answered without so much as looking at Lucien.

Elain was staring at the spymaster now—unblinkingly.

“We’re the ones who need …” Azriel trailed off. “A seer,” he said, more to himself than us. “The Cauldron made you a seer.” (ACOWAR Chp. 32)

This scene is telling. Majda says, if anybody can sense something is amiss, it’s a mate. Yet Lucien is not the one who makes the seer revelation - it’s Azriel. 

Lucien and Elain have never really... fit. It feels forced and there is a clear lack of progression:

Lucien just stared and stared at my sister, as if he’d never seen her before. (ACOWAR, Chp. 33)

She had chosen him. Elain had been … thrown at him. (ACOWAR, Chp. 24)

Lucien shrugged. “First—here. To help. Then …” Another glance at Elain. “Who knows?” I nudged Elain, who blinked at me, then blurted, “You could come to Velaris.” (ACOWAR Chp. 79)

Elain, at least, would be too polite to send Lucien away when he wanted to help. She was too polite to send him away on a normal day. She just ignored him or barely spoke to him until he got the hint and left. As far as I knew, he hadn’t come within touching distance since the aftermath of that final battle. (ACOFAS Chp. 5)

How Lucien withstood it, I didn’t know. Not that he’d shown any interest in bridging that gap between them. (ACOFAS, Chp. 5)

“But remember that they were engaged. Give her time to accept it.” “To accept a life shackled to me?” My nostrils flared. “That’s not what I meant.” “She wants nothing to do with me.” (ACOFAS, Chp. 18)

“I don’t think she’ll tolerate two minutes alone with me, so forget about two weeks.” His jaw worked as he studied the fire. (ACOFAS, Chp. 18)

“He brought you a present.” Those doe-brown eyes turned toward me. Sharper than I’d ever seen them. “And that entitles him to my time, my affections?”

“No.” I blinked. “But he is a good male.” Despite our harsh words. Despite this Band of Exiles bullshit. “He cares for you.” “He doesn’t know me.” “You don’t give him the chance to even try to do so.” Her mouth tightened, the only sign of anger in her graceful countenance. “I don’t want a mate. I don’t want a male.” (ACOFAS, Chp. 18)

I handed Elain the small box with her name on it. Her smile faded as she opened it. “Enchanted gloves,” she read from the card. “That won’t tear or become too sweaty while gardening.” She set aside the box without looking at it for longer than a moment.” (ACOFAS, Chp. 21)

And then we get into ACOSF where:

“I am not always in this city to see my mate.” The last two words dripped with discomfort. (ACOSF, Chp. 41)

Her brown eyes were wary. Usually, that look was reserved for Lucien. (ACOSF, Chp. 58)

Elain, the wretch, had taken the seat between Feyre and Varian, about as far from Lucien as she could get. Azriel remained in the doorway. (ACOSF, Chp. 58)

Cassian’s heart strained at the pain etching deep into Lucien’s face as he tried to hide his disappointment and longing. Elain only shrank further into herself, no trace of that newfound boldness to be seen. (ACOSF, Chp. 58)

I really believe... That if Elain and Lucien were going to happen, we would have had some positive progression by this point in the series. Which leads me to my next point...

Elain’s Book is Next

Please see my post on that here! @psychee92 also wrote a great post on that here.

Because Elain’s book is next, this really leaves us with two options for Elain:

Elain accepts the bond

Elain rejects the bond

Elain’s bond is a central issue for her. It makes her uncomfortable and it’s a part of her trauma. Her book will involve a plotline surrounding it. Whether she accepts the bond or not. Whether she chooses Lucien or Azriel. The mating bond is important for Elain’s storyline.

Currently, Elain and Lucien cannot stand to be in the same room as each other. Elain shrinks away from him. I really think that if SJM wanted to go with Elain and Lucien as endgame, we would have some hint that there may be something there. 

If anything, Elain and Lucien are further apart than ever before, despite the bond tying them together. With Elain’s book being next, it’s difficult to picture a satisfying romantic arc between the two of them. It’s going to take a lot to bridge the gap between them and 800 pages is, quite frankly, not enough (especially because SJM has moved into adult book territory and wants to get on with the smut). 

And that’s why I think Elain and Lucien are not a viable option at this point in the series. 

[holycow99]

石田お寿司 12/9/21 stream translation Part 2

This is not the full translation of the stream. I only translated the parts I could understand & interpret or parts I found interesting/important. I’m still a beginner in Japanese, so the translations may not be accurate. If you want to repost, please repost at your own risk.

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

*Someone asked about Choujin X.

I: I’ve given the manuscript for chp 8. It’ll be released in a few days. I don’t really have much to say about this. I wanna write this month’s goals for Osushi. The big plan is to fix(?) chp 8. Then, I wanna release another two chapters this month. Chp 8 has 20 something pages. I want to at least draw the chapters in a weekly pace. What I mean by that is I wanna draw 72 pages per month. If I could draw 72 pages a month, I drew 18 pages per week during Weekly Young Jump too. So, I wanna draw 18 pages per week, which is 72 pages per month. That’s the amount of pages for weekly publication. It’d be nice if I could draw at least this much by myself. If I drew 25 pages weekly for three weeks, It’d have a total of 75 pages. I can currently get it done. If I updated 3 chapters a month, I’d have a total of 70-something pages per month. Then, nobody will complain. It’s not like anyone is complaining. It’s so that I won’t complain to myself. This is directed towards me as a challenge. Of course, it’s okay if I couldn’t do it. It doesn’t matter if I can or can’t, I thought it’s better to have a goal.

C: And the fact that you’re streaming right now is amazing!

I: Right? I spent a lot of time at the end of August doing rectifications, plotting, etc. They’re all important things to do. Since I have a little bit of free time, I thought of streaming.

C: It’s okay to draw the chapters slowly. Do you concern about maintaining the quality?

I: The quality is as usual. I mean, that’s one of the reason. It’s also to match the quality of the work. The drawing style in Choujin X is different, so of course the drawing will be different too. There are things that have changed. I want to match the vibe of the work, and also, I wanna prioritise speed over the quality. By speed, I don’t mean I wanna write them in a hurry. I want them to have a quality that’s easy to balance. I’m still playing around with it.

C: Until what chapters do you plan to release the physical copy?

I: I can just release it. I do have a plan for it, like releasing 2 volumes altogether.

C: I’m okay with anything as long as you don’t collapse later on.

I: You’re exactly right. I’m doing it with ease. So that the serialisation will go well, I’m adjusting my pace. This is just my ideal, but I wanna serialise another manga. It doesn’t have to be serialised, I have another stuff I wanna release. I’m finding the time to make one. If I make it a rule to do other things after I’ve done 75 pages per month, I don’t have to draw more. I could use the time to do other stuffs.

C: Don’t push yourself.

I: I’m not.

C: Are you overworking?

I: Not at all. I have many hands.

C: Did you play JJ?

I: I played the game like hell.

C: Is it easier to not have assisstants?

I: That’s a good question. This is kinda weird, people say that your work will progress more if you have more assistants, but that’s not the case. I did TG without knowing that. People will ask you to check on their works. So, the more the people, the more the workload. There’s probably an appropriate number of people you should have. 4 people would probably be enough during TG. But there were more people, like the helpers, but they did regularly help. It was quite a lot. I won’t be able to do my own work when there’s a lot of staffs. I don’t have assistants for choujin X so that I can do it with ease, and umm… It’s the fastest way for me. Of course, I do think the quality of the work will increase if there are staffs. I’m trying to see if I can speed up my work to a certain extent without having to check on others’ works and consider about other people, while creating the quality contents I’m capable of.

C: Working alone or with assistants finish faster?

I: It depends on the stuffs you’re making. For choujin x, I think it’d be hard for me to draw them if I had assistants. It’ll be great if we can have divisions.

C: Are you gonna hire a care assistant? (t/n: The Japanese word is Meshistant, which means assistant who mainly takes care of the mangaka’s meal, chore, etc. So, I just put it as care assistant.)

I: Definitely no. I didn’t let my assistants do the chore. I even cleaned the toilet myself. I kinda hate it. I hate the label they give to such people. Meshistant. I don’t like people who call them that. I don’t mean you. I probably won’t be fond of mangakas who use that word. They’re your staffs, right?

C: Do you think of the story all by yourself?  

I: Yeah. Sometimes I do get ideas from my surrounding. But, most of it came from mine.

(t/n: I’m not sure if the last sentence is correct. I couldn’t really understand what he meant, but it’s something like that.)

C: I’m having a hard time to sleep. Recommend ways for me to sleep well.

I: Probably read books. It can make your eyes feel tired. Then, maybe by not sleeping? But you might think it’s better to sleep. I understand. I wanna keep trying to fall asleep, but then I’ll watch movies while lying down. I have trouble sleeping lately. I used to sleep a lot.

C: Meshistant is also an honourable job.

I: Then, why not just hire people who specialised in that. Like housekeepers. They have that, right? Something like a home helper. That is better, isn’t it? Using assistants who’re enthusiastic to draw manga to do stuffs like that is awkward for me.

*Someone commented about hiring maid.

I: Maid? Then, I’d like that. Hahaha. Should I hire a maid? I’m recruiting maids.

C: Even at the age of 250,000, you still have trouble falling asleep.

I: Yeah.

C: Are they hired to make meals?

I: Yeah. There’s various types of assistant in the manga industry. This one refers to an assistant in charge of meals.

I: What did I wanna talk about? Oh yeah, about Animal Rap. I’m thinking whether or not I should upload animal rap video during stream, but where is the file? I’ve decided to upload it after this stream ends. What was it that I wanna talk about? Can you tell me about my current status, such as about the Sui exhibition in Osaka and Nagoya, or about Ms. Towada’s illustrations?

C: How about a live rap?

I: Good idea.

C: About the plan for 30,000 subscribers.

I: That’s right 2x. We’re talking about what to do to celebrate 30,000 subscribers.

C: I can be your maid for free.

I: I’ll definitely pay you. If it’s for free, then you won’t feel your sense of duty. I’ll give a huge salary and pressure you so that you’ll work responsibly.

C: Ms. Towada can both write novels and draw. Amazing!

I: I also can. Hahaha. I also…ah, but I can’t write novels. I won’t lose to her.

C: Do you have double eyelids.

I: Mine is hidden one.

C: Appear in First Take.

I: I won’t.

C: Are your eyelashes long?

I: Yes. My eyelashes are long, I have hidden double eyelids, I am of medium build…but I’m already worn-out.

(t/n: He used the word ‘boroboro’. I couldn’t really find the proper word to translate it in this context. Worn-out is the only one I could think of that suits the context.)

C: Are you handsome?

I: Well…I’m pretty good looking.

C: Have you been going to the gym?

I: No, I haven’t, since I was busy with work. I wanna go though.

C: I wanted to go to Mr. Kunimitsu’s concert.

I: Me too.

C: Which one is more handsome? You or Kaneki?

I: Wouldn’t that be Kaneki?

C: How about another stream with Ms. Towada?

I: I re-listened to the stream with Ms.Towada. For some reason, she was laughing a lot in the stream. Though she always like that. It’s slightly embarrassing. She’s acting like she’s at home. It felt like she’s disclosing my family situation, so it’s a bit..., but I can do that again from time to time. When I wanna do something related to JJ, then I’ll call her. That’s the most suitable content.

*Someone asked him to invite his younger sister.

I: It’s impossible to invite my younger sister.

*People wanted Goubaru to be the guest.

C: Goubaru, huh?

C: Do you have someone you wanna invite?

I: No, I don’t. The corona is one thing, but I’m completely okay with not meeting people. I do talk to people I’m close with. I think that’s already enough. It’s not like I have someone I’m involved with. I do usually talk to Mr. Kunimitsu.

*People want Hanae Natsuki again.

I: Hanae? That’s definitely impossible.

*He’s talking about Japanese youtubers.

C: Can you beat boxing?

I: I’m practising at the moment.

*Currently taking about Japanese artists.

* Someone asked who he thinks could be the next popular artist.

I: Lately, I only listen to instrumentals. The one that I like recently is the girl band called Chai. The group’s vocalists are twins. The group is great. It’s not like I like the band because there’s someone who caught my intention. I listened to their songs first before I decided whether I liked them or not. I thought this kind of voice also exists.

C: Congrats for TG’s 10th anniversary.

I: Thank you. Thank you to Brazil as well. (t/n: Someone commented Brazil.)

*He pinned his Chai comment.

C: People who just came don’t understand what’s going on.

I: It’s okay if you don’t. Hehe.

C: Sensei, can you eat choco mint?

I: I can.

C: I thought the bgm was from Animal Crossing.

I: This is Yorushika’s Escape.

*Still talking about Japanese artists.

C: Have you seen Midsummer?

I: Yes, I have.

(t/n: He said something about the new evangelion movies. But I couldn’t really translate that part properly. He basically watched the Rebuild Evangelion movies from the start since he never watched it before. He planned to go to Yamaguchi prefecture, the birthtown of Evangelion’s author to watch the last movie.)

Y****: I’m reading Toro Hedoro! I recommend it!

I: I do read that. Don’t underestimate me! I do read One Piece as well, but half-way through.

C: You can watch the Evangelion movie on Amazon Prime.

I: I wanna watch the final movie at the cinema. Has the final movie come out? It has? But I’m still gonna watch at the cinema.

C: Have you read Tokyo Ghoul?

I: Nope.

C: I recommend Tokyo Ghoul!

I: Is that so? I have a story regarding TG, but it’s probably gonna be quite deep.

C: One Piece has reached 100 volumes!

I: That guy and Odacchi have reached 100 volumes, right? Hahaha. That guy is Luffy, while Odacchi is Oda sensei. Hahaha. I can’t call him that. Odacchi is Oda sensei and Kishikage is Kishimoto sensei. I see, that guy has reached 100 volumes? Way to go! Hahaha! No one is watching this anyway. I’ll properly lick his boots if he’s in front of me, since he’s the real deal. I’ll be very obedient and sucking up to him.

(t/n: Ishida was using the word ‘aitsu’ to refer Eichiro Oda. As far as I know, it’s an impolite way of calling someone older or in higher status than you in Japan.)

C: He’s scarier than Hikakin (a Japanese youtuber.)

I: Right. We are in the same industry after all. But I think Young Jump and Jump are different subsidiaries. Although, Hara sensei seems to have met with Odacchi, so maybe there’ll be an opportunity for me to meet him. But probably no. Someone like me won’t be able to meet Eichiro Oda sensei. I won’t meet him. He seems like a unique person.

*Ishida talking about an illustrator and youtuber called Saito Naoki.

(t/n: I couldn’t translate the first half of this part because they’re talking about something that had happened, and I don’t know the context of it.)

I: The name ‘Saito Naoki’ is very nice. Is it a pen name? It totally sounds like a real name though.

C: Are you close with Kishida Mel? (t/n: Kishida Mel is an illustrator and a character designer.)

I: I’ve never met him, but Kiyoppi, Kiyohara Hiro sensei and Melcchi are good friends. He’s like a friend of my friend. You have things like that, right? 

C: The name ‘Ishida Sui’ is cool!

I: I seriously wanna change my pen name. I wanna change to something like Gengoro. I wanna change to a manlier name. I didn’t give a thought about my name before. I used that name because I thought I was gonna be famous in the future, so I didn’t wanna use my real name. I seriously thought that I couldn’t become a mangaka if my real name was exposed. I was like “Since I’m gonna be famous, let’s avoid using my real name.” I was being vigilant about it, so I half-heartedly named my pen name.

I: The name Gengoro is nice. Tagami Gengoro. Tokyo Ghoul’s author, Tagami Gengoro. The Tokyo Ghoul’s author, Tagami Gengoro’s exhibition is now open. I’d definitely sounds like a bearded fatty. With round glasses to top it off. Isn’t Tagami Gengoro a character from a gay manga?

*Ishida searching for Tagami Gengoro.

I: Everyone, don’t search for it. I’m scared something dirty will appear. Is it not? Oh, it isn’t. what’s the name again? There is a character named something Gengoro, right? It’s Tagame Gengoroh! I got it now! Tagame Gengorohw as born in 1964 and a Japanese mangaka. He calimed himself to be a ‘Gay Erotic Artist’. This is the one! It’s Tagame Gengoroh sensei. 

*Ishida was looking at Tagame Gengoroh sensei’s illustrations.

I: This one. Wow, this is indeed gay! Hahaha.

C: I can’t believe it came out of your mouth.

I: Surprisingly, I do talk about these kind of stuffs. (t/n: I mean, he’s the man who wrote a whole R-18 chapter.)

I: So, I can’t use the name Gengoro, since there’s someone with this name.

C: Is the name ‘Ishida Sui’ an anagram of your Surname?

I: Yes, it is.

C: Are you gay?

I: Hahaha! Even if that’s true, you didn’t have to ask that kind of question! Let’s just say that I’m okay with both.

C: Kuso Miso. (t/n: Kusomiso is a gay manga.)

I: Of course, I’d be reading them (probably referring to gay manga). I mean, manga like Kuso Miso Technique are popular, right?

C: Ishida GayGoro.

I: Hahaha. That’s just gay.

C: You’ve been to a gay bar before, right?

I: Not at all. When I was hanging out with the staffs, Goubaru said he wanted to go to a Okama bar while crying.

(t/n: According to the internet, Okama is a term referring to guys who adapted female characteristics.)

C: I think it’s completely normal to be gay nowadays.

I: We’re talking about gay now. It’s not normal in the first place. It’s just a sexual orientation. If you pick on every little thing, everything will become a problem. Those who deliberately say they’re not prejudiced against gays are actually are. Even if you tell that to people, they’ll probably filter what they wanna say. They’d be conscious of every single thing they say. Things like that don’t matter.

C: Sensei, let’s talk about something else.

I: Why? I’m okay with it.

C: I’m bi.

I: Does it matter? It’s okay.

C: It’s difficult to say something regarding gender issues, right?

I: Well…It’s difficult, since it’s concerning your mindset. It doesn’t only apply to gender issues; you can hurt someone by making careless remarks.  It’s just that you sometimes accidentally let out your opinions. I also think I sometimes make unnecessary remarks, so I might do that.

C: I want to be embraced by Masataka Kubota. (t/n: Masataka Kubota is a Japanese actor who played as Kaneki in the live-action.)

I: That’s right. Must be nice. I want us to embrace each other.

Part 3

[kerie-prince]

We're Worlds Apart (6)

Draco Malfoy x American No-Maj!reader

series m.list | general m.list | previous chp

warnings: language, smoking (cigarettes), mentions of sexual activity (but no actual scenes), Blaise (you know what i mean <3)

summary: Draco Malfoy is a pureblood wizard. Magic runs through his veins and has been since his birth. You're a Wiccan No-Maj; a non-magical being with ordinary blood through your veins, but practices what you call magick. And this very practice upsets your neighbor.

a/n: would y'all be interested if i added a smut chapter? also fun fact! the little date bit where y/n thinks about her worst date is based on my real life experience. only we didn't go to mcdonald's, we went to in-n-out. and it was terrible

(gif cred)

Blaise Zabini.

This man was the walking definition of lust. Flirtatious, smooth, and most definitely a womanizer. He didn’t hide it in his actions and you didn’t care. He could break your heart and have you crying for weeks, but man, if he wasn’t gorgeous.

Blaise Zabini looked as if he was carefully molded by Aphrodite. A man almost too beautiful for the world, and you’re going on a date with him. He nearly knocked the air out of your lungs when he asked to take you out to the fanciest, most expensive restaurant in Buffalo. And who were you to say no?

The whole window incident was completely forgotten. He could see more if he’d like— “Hey Y/N?” Your employee brought you out of your thoughts. A soft blush was on your face as you tried to act like you weren’t thinking of your neighbors’ friend. “Uh, yeah, what’s up?”

“Did you want me to put the crystal beads in the front? They’ve been really popular today.”

“Yeah, that sounds good.” You had a few more hours of your day left before going back home. You had called over two of your best friends to catch up and help you pick out an outfit for your date that coming Saturday. It was currently Thursday, but in case nothing in your closet was good enough, you’d at least have some time to go shopping with them. Which was probably going to happen anyway.

It was a really good day; it got really busy with customers and the usual nuisance was gone today. But no matter how busy it was, you still felt like time was passing by slowly. In all honesty, what you really wanted was to be able to see Blaise today even if it was for just a minute, just to say hi.

Your last date was six months ago and, well. If it went well, you wouldn’t be attending the date you were going to later on the weekend. It was a horrifying date; he took you to a fucking McDonalds on the first (and last) date, only paid for his own meal, and made weird sexual innuendos nearly the whole time. And the worst bit was that even though it was a terrible date, you decided to give him another shot by texting him saying that you’d like to go to another date and he never texted you back.

Blaise was only going to be around for a month, you know this. And you kinda felt bad for taking some of his time away from his best friend whom he was visiting for, but he asked you out. So, if he’s alright with it you should be, too.

After the store closed, you stayed an extra hour just to make sure everything was cleaned up and ready for tomorrow. As much as you were in a rush, you hated clutter and didn’t want to have to wake up earlier to clean. Most likely, your friends were gonna want to drink a little. Traffic home wasn't great, but once you got home you got exactly what you asked for.

Outside, Blaise stood against a wall smoking a cigarette on Draco’s porch. God, even the way he stands is hot you thought. He saw you pull in your driveway and put out the last of the bud onto the ashtray. Blaise made his way to you and your heart was beating hard. “Good evening, gorgeous,” he said in that mesmerizing British accent. I’d kill to hear that voice in the morning.

“Hello,” you sighed in contentment. He was about to say something before your friends pulled up next to your car. Internally, you groaned. You just had to hope they wouldn't say anything to embarrass you. Without taking the chance, you started thinking of a reason to excuse him back to Draco’s house but it was too late as your friends were already rushing to your side. Act normal, act normal, act normal—

“Hey Y/N, who's this?” Miranda probed. Her voice was suggestive and you caught how she looked Blaise up and down. Bianca, the shyest of the three stood aside and waved at him.

“Blaise, these are my best friends Miranda and Bianca,” your hands gestured to the girls by your side. “Guys, this is Blaise.”

He took their hands and kissed the top of them. “Well, you ladies have a goodnight. I’ll see you later, Y/N.” He winked at you before he left.

Miranda let out a sigh before she spoke, “God, you’re so lucky.” She started heading into your house and pulled out a bottle of wine from her purse. Yeah. I am.

—

Draco has no idea what he walked into.

Santa Marie’s was absolute chaos. There was nearly a horde of injured wizards and witches that he and his team had to help. People filled the waiting room and beds were constantly being changed for the next patient.

The worst bit of it was that no one had any memory as to what happened. “This is a really strong memory charm. Not as bad as how Lockhart was left, though. Any idea who could’ve done this?” Draco worked as he healed one person after the next. He’s been running around with Ian at his side.

“Not really. This is the first time I’ve ever seen anything like this. Hell, this is probably the first time anything like this ever happened at Santa Marie’s,” Ian pondered. It was true. Something like this hasn’t been seen in this hospital. But Draco wasn’t going to sit around and do nothing about it. He became Head Healer at Santa Marie’s for a reason and he was going to prove he deserves this position.

When he found a few minutes to himself, he called his landline at home to let Blaise and Theo know that he might not come home for the night. Theo was the one to answer the call and offered to take Draco some clothes if need be, but Draco already had a bag in his office just in case something kept him there. Guess today’s that day.

“Are you by yourself?” Draco asked.

“Yeah, Blaise left about twenty minutes ago,” Theo confirmed.

“Where’d he run off to? Not like he has other friends around,” Draco chuckled. He used the time to eat a sandwich from the cafeteria vending machine. Wasn't as filling, but he figured it’ll do for now until he would be able to eat an actual meal.

“Don’t you remember? Blaise got his date with… what’s her name again? The muggle, witch one, fuck if I know,” Theo said. That’s today? Draco had forgotten all about it. Of course, if he had remembered, he’d probably be distracted from his work today. Wait, why?

Theo regained his attention by calling his name multiple times thinking Draco had just hung up. “I’ll call you later. Still got loads of work to be done.”

“Hey, do you think they’ll do it-” Draco cut the call off before he could listen to the end of that sentence. Last thing he wanted on his mind while he worked was Blaise doing… things with you. It wasn’t because he liked you. You’re his neighbor and things could get pretty weird. It took months just to get along and have one engaging conversation.

And honestly, Draco still didn't like how you were a Wiccan. He may not understand what exactly it means, but it didn't matter. What would even happen if for some reason, Blaise actually showed you what real magic looks like? That was what really concerned Draco. Showing a muggle magic. He didn't know what those laws were like under the Magical Congress, but under the Ministry it was only allowed to show muggles magic and the wizarding world if it had the promise of marriage or you were a mudbl— muggleborn.

And Draco knew Blaise. His longest committed relationship was probably three months, so marriage is a definite no. Draco didn't know why he was even worried about it, it's just one bloody date. He figured that America made him soft as he stood ther overthinking about literally nothing. He was so immersed in his thoughts that he almost didn't feel Ashley flick his forehead. “Ow! That hurt!”

“I’d be worried if it didn't. You were standing there like a damn zombie. You ready to get back out there?” Ashley sassed. Draco scarfed the last of his sandwich and followed Ashley back to the emergency room. Ugh, I want this day to end.

—

It was the best date you ever had. You weren't in love or anything, but you were definitely tired out. The dinner was amazing and the conversations were engaging and interesting. But it's the events after the dinner that you remember.

Unlike boyfriends and girlfriends before, Blaise took his time with you. Slow, sensual and just perfect. It was quite suspicious, actually. What man is this perfect? There's something up. Weird foot fetish, secret Star Wars nerd. Or worse. Star Trek you thought.

Two days after the date, your best friends drove straight to your house after a single text was sent. There was no way Miranda and Bianca were going to read about the details on a phone screen, no. They wanted to hear the explicit details with their own ears.

“He did what?” Miranda nearly choked on the wine. There was a certain confidence in your aura. You slept with a man hand crafted by the gods and it was the best time of your life.

Bianca sat bashfully listening to your story, but she leaned forward to hear you better. “Little trashy for a first date, but who the hell cares? Ten out of ten, would definitely do again.” You smirked at the end of your corny joke. Your friends looked at each other and rolled their eyes. “Alright, we get it. What now, though? He's only here for a month. What's gonna happen now?” Miranda questioned.

“Dunno. But for now, I'm just having fun. At first, I thought it'd be weird since his friend isn't the most pleasant to live next to, but Blaise is different.” You could only assume they were different, but considering you were getting along way better you figured it was safe to assume they were.

“What does your neighbor even look like? I haven't seen him anywhere,” Bianca noticed. Now that you realize, you haven't seen your brooding neighbor in a couple days. Not that you cared. “Actually, I don't know. Work, probably,” you shrugged your shoulders as you brought your wine glass to your lips.

“Where does he work?” Miranda asked.

“In the emergency room at a hospital,” you answered.

“Oh. You know where?” Miranda kept at it. “No, we don't really talk much. Took me nearly six months to even find out that he even talks, let alone what he does for a living.” Just as you were about to take another sip, a certain black car was pulling up.

From afar, you could see the dark circles extremely prominent under Draco’s eyes and noticed him wearing the same clothes he left the house in a couple days ago. You actually pitied him, but admired him at the same time.

Being a doctor is no easy task, and here was one across the yard working day and night to help people. “Is that him?” Bianca noticed him from out the window. You nodded in response and took another sip of wine.

“I'm moving to England. There's no way that they have this many attractive men. Watch me pledge allegiance to the Queen, I don't care,” Miranda rambled. You laughed at her in response. “You said there's another person visiting him?”

“Yeah, why?” you quirked an eyebrow. “What does he look like?” Miranda looked at you with wide, hopeful eyes. You shrugged your shoulders, “Haven't seen him yet. Never comes out but I think I heard him once in the backyard.”

After a couple hours of talking and laughing, the two best friends decidedly went home and called you once they arrived safely. The night was chilly and the sky was clear. You admired the sunset and the orange and purple hues in the sky from the bench of your porch. If you could, you'd paint the scenery.

The sound of a door opening made you look to the side and saw Draco pulling out a cigarette. He looked around and once his eyes landed on yours, he reached in his pocket for the lighter. Once it was lighted, he took a deep inhale and let the smoke out with a long puff.

“Long couple days?” you asked from across. He took another puff before he started walking to the fence separating your yards. You did the same and leaned against it next to him. “Feel like shit,” he said under his breath.

“You look like shit,” you commented. Draco glared at you and you laughed at him. It took him a couple seconds to drop his glare and then he started laughing as well. When you looked at him, you noticed how his eyes crinkled and how bright his smile was. It was the first time you'd ever seen him like this and it made you feel a bit warmer inside. You remembered how when he'd first moved in, all you wanted was to be friends with your new neighbor and have moments like this.

The silence lasted a while when your laughters died down. He finished the last of the cigarette and stepped on it as you just stood and wandered into nothing. Whether it was an awkward silence or not, you didn't know. But considering you were comfortable, maybe it wasn't.

You looked at your neighbor and reached one of your hands out to him. Draco looked confused, like he once did when you first went to his door and reached for a handshake. He stood still as he expected you to say something. The expression spoke for him so you finally explained yourself, “Friends?”

Draco seemingly thought about it, eyes going back and forth from your hand to your eyes. He then looked at his house for some reason and met your eyes again. Hesitantly, he shook your hand, “Friends.”

This was going to be an odd friendship for sure, but after months of trying, a friendship began.

—

next chp

(っ◔◡◔)っ taglist: @beiahadid @malfoy-styles-wife @fivenightslaughter @juneballoon999 @leydileyla @fangirlanotherjust @originalsoulcollector @opiomancy @lipstickandloveletters @ninacotte @daedric-sorceress @frecklesandfirecrackers @hahee154hq @disartrous @oh-those-barricade-boys @lunalovecroft

[if-music-be-the-food-of-love]

Hiiii!! I just finished reading chp 10 and PLS ROBBE AS WESTLEY HOW COUKD YOU DO THIS 😩✋ no I loved it bc when I was a kid the princess bride would always come on tv on the weekend during those movie weekend thingys and at first bc I was super young I didn’t really like it, didn’t understand much of it but then I got older and I watched the whole thing and I was like “omg this has everything, action, suspense, romance, I like it!” And then it became one of my favourite movies. And THEN when I was in high school we had to do a book and movie comparison in English class and lo and behold the princess bride was on the list of approved books. I hadn’t ever read the princess bride before so I was interested to see how they compare and I loved the book and I loved the movie. We had to write an essay and do a presentation and so I said that the book was better than the movie. Now, here’s the thing, I actually thought that both were equally good for the mediums that they trying to tell the story through, like the movie is good for kids and not so confusing and the book is good for people who like more detail and want to know more about the characters. But my 17yo self wasn’t gonna say that in front of a bunch of other pretentious 17yo who all came up to present saying the book was better skdjdj anyways I loved the chapter and William Golding is amazing 😌💫💕

Tasfia💕💕💕 you ARE my people!!!! Hahahaha. Bc I totally relate to everything you just said. 🥰🥰🥰. I don’t remember a time when I didn’t know that movie. It was a staple in my house, and I know for a fact Westley was my first crush (at whatever level you can actually have a crush at 7ish, but man I thought he was the cutest thing). It’s such a classic. If you haven’t read it, Cary Elwes’s memoir As You Wish is worth reading, and if you like audiobooks, Cary and the cast read it. It’s really cool.

I apologize in advance for the novel you’re about to receive in response bc you unknowingly stumbled into one of my favorite things to discuss. So yeah, books and movies. For someone who loves books as much as I do, I’m not a purist by any means. Yes, books are usually better bc they have more detail and tell a more complete story, but there are times when I definitely think the movie is better. Certain things just come across better visually, or they change something so profound it massively improves the whole story, or sometimes it’s so convoluted streamlining it into a screenplay really helps. Some examples for me would be Lost in Austen, Stardust, North and South, Atonement, Mockingjay (the whole trilogy in some ways), Call me by Your Name, eeek I know. With the last 3 the problem for me is unlikable or maybe difficult characters/narrators. It’s a lot easier to like someone and empathize with them when you’re not in their head, hearing all of their (sometimes awful) thoughts. The Mockingjay also suffers from narrative issues, but that’s another essay I can’t include here. And, I think, there are times things make a greater impact visually, like there’s a scene in Atonement that is so emotionally powerful and visually stunning I wish I’d seen the movie first. (Disclaimer: I really disliked the book and think Joe Wright is a genius even tho i’ll probably never watch the movie again *shivers*). And there are times when the book and the movie are so good and yet so different that they are equally amazing, like The Princess Bride or Howl’s Moving Castle, and other times when the adaptation is just so well done like Perks of Being a Wallflower or 2006 Pride and Prejudice that I like it just as much. I applaud your 17yo self for recognizing this bc i doubt I did back then. Book snob, haha.  (And I can only imagine how intimidating it would have been to say that to your class, but I wonder if anyone else was in the same boat???)

What I love about Golding’s book is just how ridiculous it is, that he’s supposedly shortening some horrifically long history book about Florin(?), cutting 200 pages about tapestries here and 100 pages of political intrigue there, and wait that kiss was epic but now everyone’s bleeding again and Westley’s fainted, and oh if you want to know what happens at the bottom of the ravine, please send...  It’s a whole different level of ironic silliness, and the movie captures the irreverent tone well while telling the story in a completely different way. I love them both and agree that they’re both equally good. Again, your 17yo self is impressive! 

Okay, Robbe as Westley (**fanning myself**). Epic swordsman and romantic hero. What better way to make Sander lose his cool?  hahaha.  No idea where it came from or how it happened. Cami suggested pirate, and then a day or two later it clicked. But suddenly it was like, YESSSSSSS, and I ran with it, no looking back. That costume conversation was literally me going through people’s suggestions with a few of my own additions (the more inappropriate ones 😂😂).

Anyway, I’m so glad you liked the chapter and that it brought it up these memories/feelings about the book and movie!! Sorry that I wrote you an unnecessarily long response, but I kinda like books and movies based on books 🙈. I’m not ignoring your bts ask, btw. I just needed to get thru this chapter first and gather some ideas. So ideally that’ll come out soonish. I hope you had a wonderful Halloween, and thank you for sending me down memory lane and reminiscing about this book and movie with me. 💕💕💕

[kotosnoozy]

「witness me, old man」

chp 1 - recollections of dinners in eden

1st in a series of yuraven oneshots for my favourite aus, both canon to the tales series and of my own creation. ao3 link in the replies.

1. tales of asteria | recollections of eden 2. modern/coffee shop au 3. tales of the rays | 'it's new years! brave vesperia' event 4. schwann brigade yuri au 5. zestiria setting au 6. modern/band au. ao3 link in the replies.

Claw truly is a fantastic cook.

It’s rare, in honesty, that he gets a chance to taste his food. It’s an offer rarely made - only on those seldom occasions where he comes to seek Raven’s information-gathering expertise, and even then only when he deems his work to have gone above and beyond his expectations. He’s a harsh critic, for a man who clearly knows he wouldn’t personally be able to do the job, though the quality of his food is certainly worth the extra effort Raven has to put in to pass the grade.

He has to chase Norma away from the office on nights like these. At times, that feels harder than the information gathering he has to do to get to this point - she’s stubborn as a mule, and has a good nose for his lies. She doesn’t know about his… side-job, so to speak, and he has no intention of telling her any time soon if he can help it. She’d only nag for a free meal herself anyway, and there’s something special about these evenings he gets to spend with Claw, just the two of them. The addition of a spunky teenager would kill the vibe - even if the teenager in question is technically mature enough to be his business partner.

The only consistent method he’s found is to send her off to the next town over on some errand he swears that only she can handle, that he couldn’t possibly join her and get in the way of her work. Of course, it’s tricky to convince her that there’s anything she could do that he couldn’t - the bulk of their work is, after all, odd jobs and chores for the elderly, but if he bitches and whines enough (“Oh Norma , you know how my back gets, ancient as I am!”) then she’ll finally give in and head off with little fuss.

He gets to put the ol’ bad back excuse to good work when Claw arrives too - he couldn’t possibly help out in the kitchen, he’s so old and slow that he’ll only get in the way, or else mess up the recipe.

Claw, unsurprisingly, is far more skeptical of his tall tales than Norma. But for whatever reason, he’s never once complained at Raven sitting on his lazy ass and watching instead of helping. If anything, he almost seems a little happy about it.

After he does his little dance around the kitchen - finely dicing onions with nary a tear, pulverising potatoes efficiently, mixing it all together with a meat Raven’s tastebuds can never quite place, and frying the little balls of the concoction after coating them in breadcrumbs - there’s a plate of perfectly crisp croquettes placed in the middle of the table. It feels almost criminal to allow them to sit in the same spot that they usually just throw cheap takeout and sloppily-made sandwiches, mouth-wateringly good as they look.

“I really don’t know how ya do it, Cap’n.” he says, polishing off his first and skewering a second with his fork. “Makin’ something as tasty as this with just a couple of ingredients… Y’ ever think ya might be in the wrong line of work?”

Claw snorts in amusement, simply resting his head in his hand with a roll of his eyes.

It’s always like this. He’ll cook enough for both of them (or maybe three, or even four people - Raven can’t deny that he’s a real glutton when it comes to Claw’s cooking), but never eats himself. He simply watches Raven from over his collar, expression indecipherable from just his eyes alone. If it wasn’t something of a routine by now, then he’s sure he’d find the constant dark-eyed gaze unnerving, to say the least.

Instead he just feels guilty - it feels unfair to be the only one eating.

“...why is it that ya never eat yerself while yer here?” he asks tentatively. He really can’t imagine such a high ranking member of Her Highness’s guard suffering from eating-related stage fright, but it certainly wouldn’t be the strangest thing he’s ever heard of.

Claw quirks an eyebrow.

“You know as well as I do that Her Excellency forbids my face to be seen.”

Ah.

How did he let that slip his mind?

“That must be a hell of a pain when you’re on the road with your platoon, huh.” he quips instead to cover his lapse in memory.

There’s a slight change to Claw’s breathing that he doubts he’d notice if he wasn’t so good at his job - the tiniest of sighs. He remains otherwise silent.

G r o o o o w l

...Although the same cannot be said for his stomach, it seems, as it heartily voices its protests. Raven simply cannot stop the wide grin that rises to his face.

Claw’s eyes narrow, no doubt already anticipating what will come next.

“C’mon, Cap’n, you should try some yerself!”

He scoffs.

“It’s fine. I’ll just eat whatever’s leftover when I get back to the barracks later.”

“You know as well as I do that’s a hell of a waste - why let it go cold when you could just eat it right here and now?”

Claw’s gaze narrows further.

“Raven…” he drawls, warningly.

“C’monnnn, it’ll be our little secret! I promise, I won’t tell a soul!” he says, leaning over the table to wave a skewered croquette in his face. Claw’s eyes tick back and forth like a metronome as he watches the morsel, and he thinks he’s almost got him- and then he furrows his brows, eyes clenched shut like a baby rejecting a snack it doesn’t like the look of.

Raven sighs.

“Spoilsport. No one would’ve ever needed to know,” he whines. “‘m just thinkin’ about yer health, Cap’n. Nothin’ more, I swear.”

It happens as he goes to sit up straight - quick as lightning.

He snatches the hand Raven’s waving in front of his face, like a cat pouncing its prey, and hooks a finger over his high, wide collar. Scoops the bite Raven had thought was now destined for him into his own mouth. Replaces the collar as quickly as it left.

It’s maybe 3 seconds at the most. An absolutely miniscule amount of time. But more than enough for a man in Raven’s line of work to get a good look at his permanently-obscured face.

To take in his delicate features - nose long and beak-like, but cheeks far more rounded than he’d expected, pink lips thin yet surprisingly plump, a proud chin despite his round jaw - to be absolutely enraptured by how beautiful he is.

‘Do they hafta keep their faces covered,’ he wonders idly, ‘because they’re all this distractingly beautiful? Or is Claw just a special case?’

He can’t break his eyes away, even after Claw finishes his mouthful, looks up at him expectantly, once more quirks an eyebrow in confusion. His heart is pounding , stirring in a way that feels almost like nostalgia for some reason. He’s hot and cold all at once, cheeks burning but blood like ice, and he longs to reach out and touch him, pull the collar down for a better look, truly commit his face to memory. But then there’s a pain in his heart like a knife, pure grief , and it twists, makes him feel sick to the stomach, and his brain is fuzzy, he doesn’t understand-

“What’re you staring at, old man?”

It feels like being clocked around the head. He scrambles up straight, trying to put as much space between them as he can even as he yearns to be closer.

“Nothing! Nothing at all!”

Claw’s eyebrow climbs ever higher. Raven scrambles for something to say - whatever that was is definitely something to unpack later , if ever at all.

“Anyway, my darlin’ Claw,”

(‘Wait, darlin’??? Where the hell did that come from???’)

“How does it feel to get a taste of yer own food pipin’ hot for once?”

He swears he can see a gentle flush of red to his cheekbones where they peek above the collar.

“...I guess it’s better than when it’s cold.” he mumbles, gaze never meeting Raven’s.

He smiles, satisfied, and does his best to squash down the rest of that strange sensation as he tucks back into his meal.

Later, when Claw is gone and he’s alone with his thoughts, he’ll make a decision. That next time Claw cooks for him, he’ll persuade him to remove the collar again. And maybe he’ll figure out exactly what the lurching of his heart means. Who knows? He might even cook for Claw for a change.

(Something tells him he’s got a sweet tooth. Maybe he likes crepes?)

Little does he know that though certainly, he will receive the offer of Claw’s cooking in exchange for hard work at least once more, never again will he have the opportunity to actually sample it.

((it’s that night that the dreams start))

[eel-bitch]

Welp this is chapter 2. Here is prolouge and Chapter 1

Rated: Teens

Word Count: 1194

AO3

Since the End/Begining of Time

Chapter 2 - Master(s)

??? (Don't worry ya find out pretty quick)

As the Tardis materialized, the Doctor quickly exited the Tardis without her usual flapping about and cheery manner, as her companions more causestly followed her out, there faces were awe as they walked out, they were expecting mad alien stuff but the Tardis had put them in a clearing with trees as far as you could see in each direction, there is a sound in the distance of children laughing and the place looks heavenly, vines dripped down over a large pond straight in front of them, the water twinkled and an abnormally big dragonfly, with beautiful blue green scales and-

“Did it just breath fire???” exclaimed Ryan out of shock.

“I think it did son” replied Graham

“Doc? Where are we?” Yaz asked, ignoring the grandfather and grandson.

“The Gamma Forests” the doctor answered Yaz “And yes the Gamma Dragonflies are well known for their fire-breathing abilities, I brokered the agreement between the people and dragonflies a long time ago the dragonflies are only allowed to roast their berries once they are off the bush, one forest fire too many caused a long war with many charred bodies and a big drop if the dragonflies population, but that was ages ago, we will find no trouble here now, it's a completely peaceful place, they are well known for staying out of wars, Missy was probably just trying to stir trouble in a place she finds so ‘bland’.

“Actually Doctor” said a voice from the left of the Doctor and her companions, they all spun to see, sitting on a freshly cut tree stump, with an axe by her feet and fallen tree behind her was a woman, with blue eyes that screamed crazy, dark brunette hair that was frizzy and obviously deliberately messy, a purple victorian style dress and an umbrella finishing off the outfit with a very Mary Poppinesque look “I haven't called you out here on a fools earned and I did have that creature you call your wife, had being the key word in that sentience, I may OR may not have traded somethings I had in my possession for something I really really wanted”

She picked a book out of her pocket and opened it, it was blue and seemed to be based off the Tardis

“You should really read this someday Doctor it's a real hoot!

The Doctor marched up to the mad looking woman and grabbed the book from her hands, closed it, ran her hand down the cover then slowly as if regretfully slipped it into one of her many inside pockets, the one closest to her left heart, then continued to grab the woman's wrist and pulled her off her stump so they were face to face

“Oh are we getting close and personal now” the woman chimed her Scottish accent becoming more prominent with each word “May I just say Doctor I'm very glad that you could finally afford the upgrade, you took yer but you got here”

“Missy, what are you up to?” asked the Doctor simply, her companions would even say calmly which was not a word to be associated with this regeneration of the Doctor, she never did anything in halves. Missy pulled her wrist from the doctors grip, and looked overall disinterested

“Well poppet that is a long complicated story that include a another version of me stealing you half breed dropping me here, stealing my vortex manipulator but not before I could use it to reroute the location of origin on that lovely little message I sent you”

“That doesn't sound complicated, which version? The platinum haired one he seems like the only one that could possibly know about River”

“Ah now dear that where it gets complicated” she sat back down on her tree stump crossed her legs and looking very pleased with herself said “I may have created another me……. Sort of….”

“You what!!!!!” cried out the doctor “how'd you do that???”

“Well awhile back on a planet I am not bothered to remember the name of I was cursed by some old hag, honestly I thought she was more looney then myself until a tan distinctively male foot burst out of the seams of my left favorite boot, so of course I was completely outraged and also quite fascinated, where had the foot come from was it swapped with someone's else, anyhow, so I disintegrated the hag and went back to my Tardis to exam it, I took off the rest of my boot and there from the ankle down was a male foot, most definitely not my own so I cut it off and-”

“Cut it off?!” cried and outright confused Graham

“Yes cut it off, I couldn't examine it if it was still connected to my leg now could I? Very uncomfortable position, And Doctor if you insist on your newest pets being here do try keep them under control” Missy said “anyhow I was cutting off my foot right?” with a nod she continued “I cut off it off and then regenerated myself a new one, that was more fitting for this petite, womanly body” she stopped as if waiting for someone to interrupt her then finished her story “Then after my younger self, that I had just stabbed, shot me in the back, quite literally, I used as much regenerative energy I need to heal myself then sent the rest to the foot, which was galaxies away and really shouldn't have worked and then it initially grew into my new brother twin?? That had all my memories just different.”

“And your minds, are they linked?” asked the Doctor

Are they linked!!!” Missy questioned flabbergasted “I tell you a great tale of how I made myself a twin and you ask if our minds are linked, of course they aren't linked, why would they be linked??”

“Just was wondering, you have a tendency to like hanging out with yourself, for whatever reason I don't know it get every so boring when you are quite literally fighting with yourself and you could have been using a mental link as a way to keep me and my fam stalled for enough time for the other you to take over earth, which would fail of course”

“Oh I would never, his ego is too big, I wonder how he could have been connected to me? Also he used to be a foot and keeps thinking he is hilarious calling himself ‘O’ and ‘Spymaster’ nobody could possibly fall for that at least ‘Missy’ you don't think THE Master straight a way and that cringey joke about people going ‘O’ when they figure out who he is, honestly!”

“Oh no……..” said the Doctor slowly realising who exactly Missy ex-foot is.

“Wait, isn't that what the weird master dude called himself?” piped up Ryan glad to be finally understanding something that was being said

“No!!” You fell for it now he's never going to shut up about the next time we meet!” Missy was between laughing her ass off and being very annoyed, a very dangerous combination

“Yes she fell for it”

Chp 3,

[maylovexhs]

everytime - LOVE ME WRONG(Chp. 38)

Author’s Note: Miss Allie X and Troye Sivan is who to thank for this chapter. They really got me in my emotions. Enjoy this chapter loves! - May

Catch up on everytime here

November 27, 2019. 1 PM.

*Y/N’S POV*

I thought about it and no, I still have decided. It’s only been a week. I couldn’t possibly decide in a week. I wanted to be with Ashton. He was much better to me than Harry has been. I’ve only been with Ashton for three months. I barely gave him a chance compared to Harry. I loved Ashton. But if I loved Ashton so much, why did a part of me wish I was with Harry instead?

“Don’t you have one of those already?” Ashton asked me.

I held the guitar in my hand as I played a few strings on it.

“No” I said. “I have a blue color of it. Not an orange”

“You’re really going to pay for something you already have?” Ashton asked me.

I shook my head, putting the guitar back.

I was Ashton’s work. I surprised him with lunch and decided to stay around for another hour at his job. I wasn’t spending Thanksgiving with him so I decided to try and spend the day before with him. Ashton actually had invited me to spend Thanksgiving with his family but I refused. Firstly, I didn’t want to rub the sight of us in Billie’s. Secondly, I didn’t want to give Ashton’s parents hope that he and I will stay together because I had no idea of who to pick still. And thirdly, I would just be thinking of Harry the whole time there.

We heard the store’s door chime as a customer came in. Ashton and I looked to each other.

“Can I meet you after work?” Ashton asked me.

I nodded.

“Yeah” I said. “Your place. What time do you get off?”

“I close at 7” Ashton said. “So, 8:30 latest?”

I reached up and kissed his cheek.

“I’ll be there” I said.

Ashton smiled at me.

“See you soon” I said to him.

I turned away from him. I started to walk away before I Ashton call me.

“Y/N” Ashton said.

I turned around to him.

“Yeah?” I asked him.

Ashton opened his mouth to say something but quickly shut it.

“Ash,” I said. “What is it?”

“It’s nothing important” Ashton said. “I’ll tell you about it later”

“You’re sure?” I asked him. “I can stay another minute. I don’t have nothing to do for the rest of the day”

“Yeah, I’m sure” Ashton said. “Besides, I don’t want Ron thinking I’m not doing my job and fire me if he sees one more second of us”

I nodded at him.

“Okay” I told him. “But you’re telling me it later”

“I will” Ashton said.

I smiled at him. I turned away. I walked over to the door. I stopped to turn around and look at Ashton before I left. He was already talking to the customers who just walked in.

My smile slowly faded.

I exited out of the shop, beginning to walk down the block.

God, I hope Ashton won’t say he loves me. Not that I didn’t want him to say it or know he loves me, it’s just . . . I didn’t want to hear it now.

I knew Ashton loved me. He may have not admitted it directly but it was obvious ever since he flew to Paris for me. I knew Ashton loved me. I just didn’t want him to say it to me because if he does . . . I’ll have to say it back. Listen, of course I loved Ashton. He makes me so happy and I wouldn’t be with him if I did not love him a little. It’s just I am not quite ready to tell him I loved him, mainly because I was still thinking of Harry.

How could I tell Ashton I loved him when every time I looked at him I immediately think of Ashton? It was not enough I felt guilty for not telling Ashton about what happened last week. How could I even tell him? Ashton immediately suspected Harry was jealous of us after that night at dinner. I managed to quickly dismiss that possibility to Ashton since I thought Harry would never think of me in that way again. But now? If I told Ashton, I would just be confirming his suspicion and slightly be defending Harry.

I turned the corner of the block, walking towards my car.

I should have just told Ashton the day after Harry kissed me. I should have told him and I wouldn’t feel so guilty now. I told Ali I was going to tell him but I needed some days to think about what I was going to do with Harry. What was I going to do about Harry? I couldn’t tell Ashton about it and still be friends with Harry. That would be unfair to both of them. Ashton is my boyfriend. I’m supposed to be loyal to him and choose him above any other man. But Harry was my friend. I’ve known him longer than Ashton. How could I choose only one?

I took my car keys out of my bag. I unlocked my car, getting into the driver’s seat and closing the door.

I knew I had to tell Ashton at some point. I knew I had to do something about Harry too. I also knew I had to do both before it was too late.

I plugged my key into the ignition, the car turning on.

I just hope I would know soon or I would lose Ashton and Harry.

10 PM.

So far, nothing. I expected Ashton to tell me he loved me right away when I met him at his apartment but he didn’t. I was a little happy  he did not mention it to me yet. I would have no idea how to react if he did. All I had was Harry on my head. I couldn’t properly think of what to say if Ashton did say he loved me. But, on the other hand, I was surprised. If Ashton wanted to tell me he loved me, why didn’t he yet? Did he change his mind about telling me? If that was the case, did something happen that changed his mind? Did he know something about Harry and I?

Ashton entered his room, holding a bag of chips and a coke.

“As requested” Ashton said, smiling at me.

“I didn’t ask” I said. “But you know your way to my heart”

Ashton handed me the coke and the bag of chips. I sat on Ashton’s bed, watching the television. Ashton sat down next to me. I opened the can of coke and started to drink it.

No. Ashton couldn’t know about Harry and I. The only people I told were Ali and Izzy. Both didn’t have his numbers so there was no way he could know about Harry kissing me. But what about everything else between Harry and I? I didn’t tell Ashton that I dated Harry for a month before. I didn’t tell Ashton I wrote songs about Harry before. I didn’t tell Ashton anything apart that Harry was a very close friend of mine and I knew him for forever. Did Ashton know I had a history with Harry? I’ve always made it clear in the media that Harry and I were friends only but anyone could suspect more.

No, no, no. There was no possibility Ashton knew about my history with Harry. It wasn’t like he knew someone who wrote songs with me about Harry. . . OH MY GOD. BILLIE.

I choked on my coke. I coughed, clearing my throat. Ashton looked worried at me.

“Are you okay?” Ashton asked me.

��Yeah” I said, between coughs. “Drank too fast”

Ashton took the coke from my hand and put it on his bedside table.

“You’re almost done with the can” Ashton said. “Did you chug it?”

I shook my head, regaining my breath.

“Just thirsty” I said.

“I can see . . .” Ashton said.

I bit my lip, knowing how stupid I just was. I looked to television.

Billie, his sister. How could I forget about Billie? Billie - who practically knows everything about my love life just from my songs. Billie could have told him. She could have. But then again, Billie gave us her blessing. Why would she want to ruin something she wants to happen? It didn’t make sense.

I looked to Ashton.

Should I just ask him about it? Should I just mention to him about earlier? What’s the worst he could say? That he loves me? That Billie told him about Harry and I? He was going to find out anyway. Should I really just tell him now? It’s been a week. Maybe I should wait until after Thanksgiving. I don’t want to ruin this holiday for him. I could wait another week. I would know what to do about Harry by then-

“What?” Ashton asked me.

“What?” I said.

“You’re giving me that look” Ashton said.

I immediately perked up, smiling.

“What look?” I asked. “There’s nothing to worry about”

Ashton blinked at me, clearly not believing in me.

“Y/N,” Ashton said. “You just admitted something is wrong”

I frowned.

I’ll just ask him about earlier. I’ll just ask that and nothing else.

“Fine” I said. “Before I left . . . what were you going to say?”

Ashton smiled at me.

“Oh, that.” Ashton said. “I was going to ask you if you wanted to spend Christmas with my family”

I let out a little sigh, relieved.

Christmas? He wanted to ask me about Christmas?

“Oh,” I said. “Why didn’t you just ask me that?”

“I was going to but since you’re not coming to Thanksgiving, I didn’t want to make any false promises to my parents” Ashton said.

I smiled at him.

“Yeah . . . it’s good that you didn’t” I said.

Especially since I have no idea what to do about Harry or you yet . . .

“I mean, I would love to” I told him. “Anything could happen in a month and I usually spend it with my friends but I wouldn’t mind spending it with you and your family. Just thought you would ask me the week before”

“I was planning to” Ashton said. “Wanted it to be a surprise when I asked you”

“Oh” I said, looking down.

I scratched my neck, realizing I ruined Ashton’s romantic proposal. I looked up to him.

“Well, it could still be a surprise. . .” I said. “I’ll just forget about it and you can ask me a week before”

Ashton smiled at me.

“I will” Ashton said. “And not in my room”

I still smiled, looking back to the television.

I knew he couldn’t have known. If he did, he wouldn’t have asked me to spend Christmas with his family. I’m pretty sure if he did know, he would have broken up with me already and I wouldn’t be in his bedroom. But Christmas. . . he wanted to spend it with me. I never had a boyfriend invite me to spend Christmas with them. The closest I have ever received was Anne invited me to spend Christmas with her and Harry. But Harry’s my friend. He was when Anne asked me.

Ashton imagined a future with me. A future that I could actually share with him. A future where I could actually be happy.

I looked to Ashton.

If Ashton imagined spending his future with me, he deserved the truth at least. It was the right thing to do. Ashton would understand. Ashton knows I would never want to hurt him. He would know I never planned to kiss Harry back that night. I was with him. Not Harry.

“I need to tell you something” I said.

Ashton turned to me.

“You realized you can’t come to Christmas?” Ashton asked me.

“No, no” I shook my head. “It’s . . .”

How the hell do I tell him without making him upset?

“It’s what?” Ashton asked me.

I bit my bottom lip.

Well, here it goes . . .

“Harry and I kissed” I said.

“What?” Ashton asked me.

“We kissed” I said. “Well, he kissed me and I wanted to slap him for it. I ran away to my room from him but then he apologized and the next thing I knew was that I kissed him back”

Ashton didn’t say anything. He just stared at me.

“Ashton, say something” I told him. “Please”

“I knew it all along” Ashton said, looking down. “I knew he was jealous that night”

“Listen, I know how it sounds” I began to explain. “I told you he was a friend and I really thought we were because I never thought he would kiss me. Then he did and I wanted to tell you sooner but-“

“It’s okay” Ashton said.

“What?” I asked him, surprised.

“Harry kissed you” Ashton looked up to me. “And he’s your friend. You were confused and kissed him back”

“You’re not mad?” I asked him.

“Well, a little. . .” Ashton said. “This happened a week ago, right?”

I nodded.

“I wanted to tell you sooner but I’m still trying to think what to do about Harry” I said. “I didn’t want to tell you until I knew”

“And do you know?” Ashton asked me. “About what to do with Harry?”

I looked down, shaking my head.

“He’s one of my best friends” I said. “I know it’s wrong if I’m still friends with him after that while I’m with you but . . .”

“You can’t do that to him” Ashton said.

I nodded.

“Ever since he kissed me, all I ever think about is him” I told Ashton. “I swear I can’t even look at you because I just think of him. That’s why I didn’t want to spend Thanksgiving with your family. It would be torture. I’ve been trying to forget him but I can’t. . .”

“Do you think of him more than a friend now?” Ashton asked me.

I looked to Ashton. I knew the answer but didn’t want to say it.

“If I said yes, would that mean I’m horrible?” I asked him.

Ashton looked down. He sighed.

I immediately felt a wave of guilt hit me. I just admitted I had feelings for Harry. And to my boyfriend.

“You should talk to him” Ashton said under his breath.

“What?” I asked him. “I can’t. He kissed me. I shouldn’t even step a foot next to him-“

“Y/N” Ashton said. “Harry’s your best friend. I can’t force you to pick between me and him”

I stayed silent.

I knew how kind Ashton was but I never expected him to be this kind to me. He was putting my happiness above his. He was willing to give up me as long as I was with the right person. I knew he had to be hurt underneath his kindness.

“You need to do whatever is best for you” Ashton said. “If you need time, you should take it”

I felt my eyes water up. I hugged him.

“Why do you have to be so nice?” I asked him. “It just makes it worse”

“It’s part of my job” Ashton said. “I’m your boyfriend. I’m supposed to be”

“I don’t know if you will be anymore” I said. “I want you to be. I wish I just knew”

“It’s okay, Y/N” Ashton said. “I’ll be happy if you choose Harry. I just care if you are happy”

I cried into Ashton’s chest.

I wish I knew.

I wish I just knew.

[tragicallytron]

So, this Cutler guy... (CHP 2)

WOOOOO CHP 2

“The one thing that sucks about your place is that I can’t walk around with my hood up.” Ant said to Harm as they walked through one of the many thin alleyways.

“Just that?” Harm asked, staring ahead.

“Yeah. This is the only place where programs like to pull on my hair.” Ant pointed to her two long hair… prong… things. They looked so bizarre compared to the rest of her hair, which was thick, gray, and stopped just at her shoulders. The prongs were long, thin, jagged, and stuck up. When she’d put her hood down, they’d stick out a good foot away from her face. They always reminded Harm of antennas. He always suggested she could cut them off, but Ant declared they’re ‘too iconic’ to be removed.

“Buuut you’re here, so that cancels out the negatives.” She flashed her friend a smile.

Harm stared at her before facing the streets again.

“Another left.” He said as they were approaching a fork in the path. Since most of the pathways were surrounded by towering walls, it was easy to get lost, so Harm had his own way of remembering where to turn to reach the center of the city, a place where he and Ant would spend most of their time together.

The heart of the city was a hassle to get to, but it was probably the best part of the inner city. While most people had to enter buildings through windows, vents, or by crossing over sloppily bade bridges because most places were cramped together, and the alleyways were so thin that many doors could hardly open all the way, the heart was a wide open area. The structures surrounding the area created a large square border that could make any program feel boxed in, but you could actually see the sky thanks to how spaced out the buildings were. There wasn’t any scrap metal hanging overhead, no wires, nothing.

Harm looked ahead and spotted a wall covered in neon-colored graffiti, most of the writing and crudely painted characters were unrecognizable. It was one of the landmarks Harm used to guide his way through the area. “Right.”

The two took a sharp turn then continued walking straight. They could hear distant chatter getting louder. A bunch of programs loved to hang out at the heart, who could blame them? Plenty of room, good stores, good food to eat as you watch a great fight happen, and the chances of getting jumped were real slim. Harm personally loved to windowshop. There were always plenty of weapons and gears on programs that’d catch his attention.

The two finally exited the thin alleys and began roaming around the heart. Just as Harm expected, it was crowded. The groups of people scattered throughout the area, all loudly talking to one another as the faint buzzing of broken billboards could be heard, the graffiti on the walls, the flickering lights from both buildings and street lamps, and the odd aroma of burnt rubber fused with a cooked meal were far from charming, but they gave the city life.

Ant suddenly nudged him, “Yo, look over there.”

She pointed to a lady. Her face was narrow, her hair was white and in a sleek, high ponytail. Her circuitry colors were nothing special, white being her main one, and secondary being teal. She was with a group of friends, hands on hips, laughing at whatever was being said. She looked pretentious.

“What about her?” Harm stared at her, unamused.

“No, no, you’re not looking.” Ant guided his head to the lady’s heels.

Harm’s eyes lit up. Attached to the side of the heels was a light gray baton, one that’s able to generate a light cycle, no doubt. She must’ve been from another part of the grid, who else would be stupid enough to have their baton out in the open like this?

Harm clenched his fists. Man, just thinking of all the great parts he’d get from dismantling one of those… It electrifies him. Programs in this part of the city would do anything to get their hands on a light cycle. Nobody cared about the fact that driving through the thin, jagged roads was a death sentence, they just wanted to be fast.

The two watched the lady glance to the side, motion ‘One moment’ to her group, then walked into an alleyway.

“Now’s our chance, whaddaya say? You follow from behind and I go above?” Ang asked, a big, confident grin on her face. That was their usual tactic whenever they saw something they liked.

Harm was about to agree, he was almost ready to start tailing behind the program, but he stopped himself. His shoulders slumped and he let out a groan. “We can’t.”

“What? Why not?”

“There might be guards around.” Harm explained.

“So? That’s never stopped you before.” Ant said.

“Yeah, but before we were only dealing with one or two guards who were stupid enough to wander in. Last cycle, there were about five. The big ones too.” Harm started walking through the crowd, squeezing through clusters of people or shoving aside any program who didn’t pay attention to where they were walking. If he couldn’t snatch goods off of programs, he’ll have to look through the abandoned buildings. It’s not as fast--and it’s certainly not as fun--but he didn’t want to put up with programs making a scene and getting unwanted attention.

Ant’s eyes widened, “Woah, what happened yesterday? Did’ja get ratted out? Did they find you hackin’ off limbs?” She followed behind.

“No. Some random program busted into my place and the guards were tailing behind him. He made me break a window.”

“Someone broke in!? Man, I KNEW I should’ve visited yesterday!” Ant snapped her fingers.

“Yeah, made a dent in my schedule.” Harm grumbled. Harm thought of a small building not even a block away, it has--well, had--a large glass dome as a ceiling, and was one of the best looking places in this city. It wasn’t cramped between other structures, it wasn’t completely trashed with wires and broken metal, the programs who used to live there--scientists, apparently--took good care of their workplace despite living in this trashhole. That changed several cycles ago. Harm remembered waking up to a loud explosion one night, and when he roamed the streets the next cycle, programs were talking about how an ‘accident’ occured, how an experiment had ‘gone wrong’ and derezzed everyone inside.

Harm’s been wanting to rummage through that place ever since. No one’s tried to fix it or demolish it; other programs have probably already searched through it, looking for whatever goods those brainiacs had on them. Hopefully there’s still some decent things left.

“Hey, no rush with my suit, a’ight?” Ant pat him on the shoulder, “I know you got commissions you’re dealing with, and if I gotta use those disgusting chute suits for a few cycles, I don’t mind.”  

“Aren’t those the same thing as your wingsuit?” Harm raised a brow. He paid no mind to the other programs giving him glares and spiteful comments as he shoved them aside.

“No, you do not understand how ugly those chutes are. They don’t even FLY, they just glide me down like some stupid paper airplane.” Ant groaned, “And they’re SO fragile. The Renegade could sneeze on them and the wires would snap in two.”  

Ant’s mentioned the Renegade before, mostly ranting about how he’s made her work harder, how he keeps destroying their property, and how he’s giving Tesler constant headaches. He doesn’t blame her for going off, he sounds like a pain to deal with.

“Some programs are saying he’s Tron, which I hope isn’t true, cause I never imagined Tron sounding so whiny!” Ant got several strange looks from surrounding programs. There’ve been rumors here about the Renegade--about Tron--recently, and hardly any of them have been good. There were mentions of a potential reward if one were to capture and turn in this Renegade, or anyone working with him.

Harm could see the shattered dome just up ahead. He grabbed Ant’s hand and pulled her along, “Let’s go before these creeps get the wrong idea.”

“Whatever, my boss can kill ‘em!” She waved her hand dismissively.

“Yeah, well your boss isn’t here right now.”

They made it out of the sea of programs and arrived in front of the ruined building. A battered sign was placed on the wall, right beside the hole where the door once was. “Minu… Sinimo… Lab” That’s all Harm could make out.

He welcomed himself inside, Ant coming in as well. They both looked around. This was probably one of the better places they scavenged through. This lab managed to withstand an explosion from the inside and remain in one piece, the only missing chunks of this small, octogonal-shaped structure were the windows, the front door, and the giant glass dome above them. Only a quarter of the glass roof was still standing, it was a dustier, lighter orange compared to the neighboring buildings, which had a much more vibrant version of the same color. The remains of the roof were scattered all over the floor and furniture, glistening from the city lights.

Harm noticed a crooked staircase that led to the second floor--well, it was more like an indoor balcony. It was trapezoid shaped, placed comfortably between the walls, and there was a thin black railing that stretched across the edge. It made the lab feel much less hollow, and Harm was impressed to see the black columns supporting it still standing. He was also surprised the programs here had the blessing of stairs instead of needing to use vents.

Underneath the platform were multiple tables pressed against the wall with an array of items laying on top of them, mostly beakers and test tubes. Come to think of it, there were a lot of tables in this place. Right when they walked through the front door, Harm could see nine tables broken into rows of threes. Maybe if the programs spent more money on better security than tables, they’d still be here.

There were other bits of furniture besides the tables, there were chairs--of course, whiteboards with wheels that had smeared writing, and random chunks of machinery that got crushed by debris.

“Check it!” Ant grabbed onto a short metal pipe sticking out of the rubbage and yanked it out. The pile of trash collapsed and scattered over the floor, the loud tumbling causing Harm to cringe.

She tossed the pipe into the air then caught it again before holding it over her shoulder, “A replacement for my bat!”

“You have a disc.” Harm pointed out as he approached one of the tables, shoving aside the chunks of cement and metal on top. A nice variety of tools were hidden under the garbage.

“Yeah, but…” Ant lowered her head, “Not a fan of it. Bats are cooler.”

“You don’t know how to use it.” Harm said as he picked up a power drill, observing it to make sure it was still usable. He’s never seen Ant use her disc before. Granted, what she was programmed to do didn’t involve any fighting, just keeping her ears open for information and sharing it with her boss.

“I kinda do. Oh, hey!” Ant’s eyes lit up and she scurried over to Harm’s side, “I could totally teach you the few moves I do know!”

“Thanks, I’ll remember that next time I want to derezz myself.” Harm grabbed the rest of the tools on the table and held them firmly. He made his way to the stairs.

“Come on, you won’t even give my idea a go?”

“I don’t know if walking in here made you forget what the rest of this dump looks like, but Argon has much more open space compared to here.” Harm stated, sounding rather aggravated. He stepped over a couple of broken steps and observed the platform. It had far less rubbish on it compared to the first floor, only broken parts of a large pipe and shards of glass laid on the ground. Lab equipment, more machinery, many of the inventions here had already been dismantled, making it nearly impossible to figure out what they once were.

A wide open folder splayed on top of a counter, which laid parallel to the rails, caught Harm’s eye. He wandered over there, looking through the giant hole in the ceiling. The specs of orange light coming from the towering buildings above looked quite nice, honestly. Reminded him of stars.

He set the tools down and grabbed the folder, tons of crumpled papers sat beside it. He started flipping through the contents, a grin began to form on his face.

“Nice…” He said to himself.

“Ooooh, whadja find?” Ant’s footsteps could be heard rushing up the metal steps.

“Blueprints.” He flipped through the pages to show Ant. The tears and incredibly messy handwriting would’ve made it difficult to decipher what the blueprints were going on about, but luckily the refined drawings provided clarity. Ant could spot sketches of disc enhancements, upgrades for tanks, and batons that could summon all sorts of tools.

“The programs here were making weapons. No wonder they were attacked.” Harm said.

Ant stopped and pointed at one of the pages, “Hey, I’ve seen those! Tesler commissioned a whole bunch of ‘em at one point for the guards.”

She held her pipe vertically with both hands, “They, like--I think there’s a button facing them, or they twist the top a certain way, so when they lift it up and hit the ground, it causes these weird quakes? Well, not really ‘quakes’, but it moves the ground a whole bunch. Cool stuff!”

“Mhm.” He didn’t express it, but that did sound cool. He wondered if there was a way he could use that feature in the future. As he closed the folder, he started fantasizing of all the weapons he could make and modify for himself, the upgrades he could give to other programs, the money he’d make. It’ll be great.

“You wanna keep lookin’ around?” Ant asked. “I got all I need.” She spun her pipe around.

“Same here.” Harm walked towards the railings and lept over them, landing on his feet with a loud thud that echoed throughout the lab. Ant landed beside him.

“I got the tools,” Harm continued, “and plenty of work to keep me busy.” He said as he eyed the thick folder, the electrifying feeling running through him again.

[ronninoir]

Can I Steal You For A Second? CH27

Summary: Adrien is forced to participate in a new dating show, but becomes more excited when Ladybug says she’ll participate as her civilian self.

AKA: AU where Adrien doesn’t know Marinette, the superheroes are 22 and Gabriel is mean and ruthless but not Hawkmoth.

Read on AO3

Start from the beginning Chp 1 on AO3

Chapter 27

Marinette was exhausted when she got back to the mansion. Chat had wanted to wait until their next patrol to chat with Tikki and Plagg about these new powers, and she had only agreed because she couldn’t un-see the brokenness in Chat’s eyes after he almost destroyed Montparnasse Tower. She knew he needed some time to come to terms with it all.

Marinette ate a quick lunch before taking a power nap before Lucie came home. No matter what happens in the evening part of their date, Marinette knew that Lucie would need someone to talk to about the akuma attack, and who better to do so than the Paris native, who just happened to be an expert on akumas. 

Not too long after dinner, Lucie came back, rose in hand, and thoroughly shaken up. Before someone could even ask her how it was, Lucie burst into tears, and the girls quickly pulled her to a couch, supplied her with a glass of water, and let her cry it out a bit before they started asking questions.

“It was horrible!” Lucie said eventually, after almost 15 minutes of crying. “He never came back. He went into the popcorn to gather more people and send them to the roof, to safety, but he didn’t come back until after all the popcorn disappeared and these magical ladybugs fixed everything.” She sniffed some more and took a sip of water before continuing. “I was so worried about him, and I was powerless to do anything about it.”

Marinette felt her heart tighten a little at the thought. She was suddenly very grateful that she had the ability to do something about it, even if she couldn’t express that to the girls. There had been a handful of times throughout the years that something had happened to Chat Noir because of an akuma, and the only thing that had gotten her through was the realization that in order for Chat to be okay, she would just need to use her Ladybug fix. The idea of not having that... it hurt too much to think about.

All of the girls (except Lila) seemed to have similar thoughts, and they all just sat with Lucie on the couch until she started to feel better. One by one, the girls started trickling off to bed, until it was only Lucie and Marinette left on the couch. Marinette had been whispering stories of other akumas she’s witnessed throughout the years, some funny, and others that scared her and made her worry about her safety. Lucie listened intently, and seemed comforted that she wasn’t the only girl in the mansion to have experienced a number of akumas.

“When I attended school in Paris, I would only ever see a couple of akumas, usually on the news that night, but sometimes, they would cross their way into my part of town.” Lucie whispered, after one particular story sparked a memory in Lucie. “I remember how scared I was, but I’ve never been more terrified than I was today.”

Marinette paused, considering what she was saying. “Maybe today was worse because someone you care about was directly involved in the threat,” Marinette whispered, almost hoping beyond hope that Lucie would deny that was true.

Instead, she broke down crying again, and Marinette held her closer. “I think I love him,” she whispered into Marinette’s shoulder, and Marinette had to resist the urge to pull away. She knew this would happen. She fully understood that some of these girls would have strong feelings for Adrien, but it still hurt, a lot, to hear Lucie say those words.

She remembered the way that Adrien treated Juliette earlier this week and how that had made her feel as well. She knew in her heart of hearts that Adrien was just playacting, going along with all these other relationships for the cameras, but a tiny voice in her mind was still whispering, Maybe he doesn’t love you as much as he used to.

Marinette took a deep breath and stood up from the couch, pulling Lucie with her. “Come on, it’s time for you to go to bed. You’ve had a long day, and the best way to get over an akuma attack is to sleep.” Lucie nodded silently and let Marinette drag her to her room.

Marinette was just about to shut her bedroom door, when a gentle hand grabbed her wrist. “I’m sorry if what I said made you uncomfortable,” Lucie said in a voice that was sad yet strong. “I just don’t want to hide my feelings anymore for the sake of not hurting my friends.” Lucie paused once more, but didn’t let go of Marinette’s wrist. When Marinette met her eyes, they were steady. “Thank you for the kind words, they meant a lot.” Then she let go of Marinette’s hand and shut the door softly.

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

When Marinette woke up Wednesday morning, she was still a little shell-shocked from the day before. Not only had she battled a 12-year-old determined to fill all of Paris with popcorn, she discovered that she wasn’t the only girl in the house in love with Adrien.

As she got dressed for yet another date card, she tried not to think about what Lucie had said. Lucie had never seemed like the kind of girl to see the others as competition, unlike Lila who seemed to think that even the cameramen where her competition. Marinette didn’t know how this would change her relationship with Lucie, but she knew that any conversation that stemmed around Adrien will become a lot more uncomfortable.

Marinette found Juliette in the Date Card Room, and was assaulted with a whispered comment as soon as she sat down on the couch. “The meeting is happening tonight. Sasha’s getting restless, so no matter who goes on the one-on-one, when they come back we are having this meeting.” Marinette nodded indiscreetly before turning her attention to the rest of the room.

Lila was ignorantly sitting at the edge of the couch, completely unaware that everyone would know her secret tonight, and that there wasn’t anything she could do about it.

There was a knock at the door, and Lila slowly made her way to answer it. She wasn’t very enthusiastic when she read, “Sasha,” and told her that, “It says you’ll be ‘touching the clouds’ whatever the hell that means,” before throwing the card on the table and storming away. No one else moved, except for the crew people, who quickly broke set, some of the camera men and producers chasing after Lila, probably for an interview. One producer told Sasha she had an hour to get ready before the van would come.

When the coast was clear and everyone but the girls had left, Juliette stood up to address the group. “Okay, it’s happening tonight. No matter how late it is when Sasha comes back to the mansion, we will meet in the designated bathroom, you all know the one, and we will discuss the pressing matter at hand. Please be on the lookout, don’t be late, and whatever you do, please don’t let Lila find out anything.” At that, everyone broke up and went their separate ways. Lucie followed Sasha to her room to help her get ready, Kagami went off to do whatever she did during the day (probably stab stuff with that sword thing she has), and Juliette sat back down on the couch next to Marinette.

“What do you even think this could be about?” Marinette asked in a mix between a whisper and a normal voice, to which Juliette just shook her head. 

“She won’t even tell me a small bit about what this is about. She just needs to hurry home tonight so that way I can be put out of my misery and finally learn some juicy dirt on Lila.”

Marinette couldn’t help but agree.

The day passed by quickly enough and before she knew it, they were all waiting in the living room after dinner for Sasha to come back from her date. They heard the front door open, but it was way too early for Sasha to be coming back. Marinette exchanged a confused look with Juliette before a producer came into view. He nodded at the gathered girls in lieu of a hello, before he grabbed Sasha’s suitcase from the hall and rolled it out the door.

Marinette didn’t understand what had just happened, but Juliette seemed to get to the conclusion faster. She was on her feet and out the door before Marinette even tried to stand up from the couch. Juliette returned a minute later, red in the face and very clearly mad.

“She’s gone. Adrien fucking Agreste sent her home before she could spill on Lila.” Then she stormed up to her room, and the whole house heard her door slam.

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

 Juliette was still mad the next morning. They didn’t know what was going on, but they had been told that a crew was coming to film, so they needed to look presentable and in the Date Card room by 9.

Once the five of them were seated, a brisk knock was heard on the door, before the creak of the hinges and footsteps walking towards them. Marinette didn’t know what to expect, but she was still surprised to see Chris Harrison when he crossed into the room.

“Good morning ladies,” he gave them all a nice smile, and for some reason, Marinette began to feel nervous. “As you may have noticed, this week has gone a little bit differently than the others. Adrien feels as though he has a good idea of who he wants to take into Hometowns next week, and with that being said, he doesn’t want to put you all through a formal cocktail party and rose ceremony. So, later this afternoon, the three of you who do not have a rose at this current moment, Kagami, Lila, and Marinette, you will be meeting with Adrien for a three-on-one where one of you will not return to the mansion. Good luck preparing today ladies, and I’ll see you all soon.” Then Chris turned around, and walked out of the door that he came through.

Everyone sat there, slightly stunned, processing what they were just told. It was a short moment before Lila broke the silence, “Great, I don’t get to spend quality time with Adrien, but instead I get to hang out with Ms. Goody-Goody, and Ms. Man over here.” Then with a hair flip and an eye roll she was out of the room. 

Marinette turned to Juliette, “Am I the goody-goody or the man?” Juliette just let out a laugh, all of her anger suddenly dissipating, and frustratingly didn’t answer her. Instead, she dragged Marinette off to her room to pack and pick an outfit.

By four o’clock, the three of them were on a van, not talking as they traveled to an unknown location to meet up with Adrien. Marinette was slightly excited that she got to see Adrien at all, but was still unhappy that she had to share the time with the stoic Kagami and the bitch. The only bright point of the ride was that Lila didn’t say anything either. 

She knew that one of the three of them would be going home, and she was hoping it would be Lila, but she had a sinking suspicion that her Ladybug luck wouldn’t carry her through that hope this evening.

The van stopped and let them out at a beautiful park. There were a couple of picnic blankets set up and some fancy pastries and finger foods scattered around the area. There were also a couple of different sitting spots set up far enough away from the picnic area that a private conversation could be had, while still being in eyesight. While looking at the picnic, Marinette was reminded of the beautiful picnic that Plagg and Tikki had set up for her and Adrien after they completed their Task. The memory made her smile dreamily, which elicited a crude look from Lila as they sat down at this picnic.

After a beat, Adrien walked up through the trees and smiled at the girls. “Welcome to my picnic!” He announced with too much enthusiasm. He sat down and began to dig in, trying very hard to make small talk with the three of them. Marinette tried very hard to make this less uncomfortable for Adrien, but with the two roses looming next to him on the picnic blanket, it was hard to keep the other two girls engaged for long. Thankfully, the looks that Adrien kept giving her made her smile and laugh and understand how grateful he was for her company.

Finally, he turned to Lila, and asked to speak with her alone. She, of course, agreed and then it was just Kagami and Marinette sitting around the picnic blankets.

They were silent for a couple of minutes, before Kagami turned to her, and regarded her as if she was at a business meeting and Marinette was just a document to be discussed. “Does he always look at you like that?”

Marinette blanched, not sure of even how to answer that. “Like what?” 

“Like you’re having a conversation with your eyes.”

Marinette blushed, slightly embarrassed that someone had noticed their looks. But before she could answer, Kagami spoke again.

“I’ve seen it, you know,” She paused, studying a patch of grass next to her. “You have a lot of conversations like that. Your relationship with him is much deeper than anyone else’s in the house.” She said this as if it was a fact, not something to be debated.

“I don’t know about that...” Marinette started but Kagami cut her off.

“Please don’t lie to me,” She said stiffly. She paused once more before asking, “Do you love him?”

Marinette paused, remembering what it was like to hear Lucie say those words the other night after the akuma. So instead of answering she asked, “Do you really want to know?”

“I would not have asked if I didn’t want an answer.” She sounded so much older and wiser when she said it, that Marinette didn’t deny her the truth.

“I do.”

Kagami nodded and turned away towards where Lila and Adrien were sitting, indicating the end of their conversation.

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

Adrien just wanted this whole week to be over. Nothing about it was good, especially sitting here with Lila just letting her aggressively flirt with him. If he actually had a choice in this matter, his convo with Lila would be done already. It was clear he wasn’t getting any of the genuine Lila he saw last week, and he just wanted to move on and talk to anyone else.

Marinette was the essence of beauty sitting at that picnic, and he wondered if she also remembered a similar picnic on a rooftop where she told him she loved him for the first time. 

And then there was Kagami. Kagami was a very good friend who he didn’t want to say goodbye to tonight. He was tempted to get rid of Lila now and just keep Kagami around for a little longer, just for the companionship. But, he knew his Father would be very upset if Lila didn’t make it to the next round, especially if Marinette did. The best way to get him to accept Marinette’s presence was to keep his top choice Lucie around, as well as the “all too important” Lila. With them both going to hometowns, his Father would be less upset that Marinette was as well.

Almost as if she could read his mind, Marinette locked eyes with him from across the park. He smiled at her and slowly stood, taking Lila with him. He walked her back to the blankets (with her stroking his arm the whole way), and detached himself to steal away Marinette.

“Marinette, can I steal you for a second?” She gave him a dazzling smile that melted his insides before taking his arm and walking to a different spot in the clearing. This one was perched right underneath a tree decorated with fairy lights, that made the whole area seem more romantic in the sinking sun. 

“Hey,” she started, as a nervous smile creeped up on her face.

“Hey,” he responded, his mind suddenly blank of anything intelligent he could have actually said in response.

“I feel like it’s been forever since we’ve been able to talk,” She said, leaning slightly closer to him to where the whole of her right side was touching his left. He literally loved the way that she fit into him, the way the touch of her skin against his made the spot tingle and made it hard to focus on anything else happening in that moment.

“I know,” he lamely responded, his brain trying very hard to come up with something intelligent to say. “But being away from you has made me realize something,” he blurted, and almost hit himself once the words were out. He wished he could take them back, as it almost seemed a little too personal for the cameras to hear too. 

Marinette raised an eyebrow at him and he saw a slight smirk form on her lips, “Oh really? And what is that?” 

He didn’t want to respond, but he couldn’t leave her, or the cameras, without an answer. “Just that I don’t like it when I don’t get to see you. I miss you too much.” 

The blush that graced her cheeks made his cheesy line worth it. He leaned in close, hoping he could snag a kiss before the blush faded from her cheeks, but she met his eyes and whispered instead, “I discovered something too this week.”

He pulled back slightly, so he could see her whole face. It was his turn to arch an eyebrow, but genuine curiosity filled his face rather than a knowing smirk. “And what was that?” he said, mimicking her tone from earlier.

She let out a small laugh before becoming serious once more. “It happened when Lucie was telling us about the akuma attack, and how it felt when you bravely dove into the popcorn to save others, even though you couldn’t find your way back to her.” Adrien was slightly taken back by her words, especially considering she was the only one who knew what Adrien was actually doing during the akuma attack. Before Adrien could say anything, she continued, “She was describing how hopeless she felt standing on the rooftop knowing you were out there being heroic but not with her, and it made me wonder what it would have been like if I was on that date instead of Lucie.”

It would have been easier to sneak away, for sure. Adrien thought, but didn’t dare interrupt. He had a feeling something big was coming and he didn’t want to spoil it.

“I realized that I don’t think I would have handled that situation like Lucie. I would have been a wreck, and probably would have ventured out into the chaos to find you, just to make sure you were okay. I realized that even if it meant putting myself in danger, I’d take that risk, just to keep you safe. Adrien,” she took a deep, shaky breath, the tears that had gathered in her eyes, threatening to fall down her face, “I love you.” Marinette paused a beat as one rebellious tear slipped down her cheek. Adrien instinctively reached out and wiped it away, though his hand lingered on her cheek. She leaned into his touch and met his gaze once more. “I know that you may not be there with me just yet, and I understand, you still have so many options here. I just wanted you to know, that’s all.”

Adrien slid his fingers into her hair and pulled her into a kiss. It started out simple, but deepened the longer they held it. Adrien always knew that Marinette would be there for him, no matter what form of herself she was, but it still felt good to hear her say it in front of the cameras.

He yearned to say it back. To show her that he cared as much and that he needed her even more than she probably needed him. That was obvious during that akuma fight when he almost broke Montparnasse Tower. Ladybug’s words were the only things that allowed him to sleep that night when the nightmares of the building crumbling kept him awake. But, it wasn’t time yet. The producers, as well as his Father, would skin him alive if he said it to one girl with other girls still options on the show. Especially with meeting the parents next week.

When they broke apart, the smile on Adrien’s face wasn’t faked, not like when he had to kiss the other girls. “Thank you for telling me, that really means a lot.” He stood up, abruptly, a crazy idea popping into his head. “Wait here, will you?” She nodded though her eyes gave away her confusion. He turned on his heel and tried not to run back to the picnic spot. Lila had sat up straighter and began fiddling with her hair when he got nearer, and Kagami just watched him, studying his every movement.

“Excuse me ladies,” he said gently as he picked up one of the roses from the plate that had been strategically placed in the middle of the blankets. He then turned back towards Marinette, the rose hidden behind him as he walked back to join his princess.

She still looked slightly confused, but when he sat down next to her once more and pulled out the rose, her eyes got wide and her smile grew. He knew that she walked into their three-on-one knowing that she’d get a rose, but she did a wonderful job of acting surprised every time he gave her one.

“Marinette, will you accept this rose?”

She took the rose as he held it out for her, and leaned in for another kiss. This one was shorter, but when they broke apart, she whispered, “Always.”

He helped her up, and looped his arm around her waist. They began walking in the opposite direction of the other girls, but Marinette either didn’t notice or didn’t care. She just seemed content to be in his arms. He walked her all the way to the road, where a black SUV was waiting to take her back to the mansion. As he reached to open the door for her, she turned and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. “I’ll see you soon,” she whispered and he grinned as he kissed her cheek back. She climbed into the car and he slowly closed the door, the smile never leaving his face.

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

 The walk back to the picnic was longer and sadder without Marinette by his side, as if her presence made everything in his life brighter and more colorful. He walked back up to the two gathered girls, and noticed that Lila was hopefully watching where Marinette had disappeared to. 

“Where did she go?” Lila asked, the excitement in her voice poorly hidden. He felt himself sigh internally. Lila’s nice act lasted less than a week, and he was saddened that she had to remain in the competition. Before Adrien could respond, Lila noticed Adrien’s empty hands, and slumped slightly, letting out a grumpy “Oh.”

Adrien ignored this, and turned his attention towards Kagami. “Kagami, can I steal you for a second?” She gave a curt nod, as usual, and followed him to the same spot where he took Lila. She sat on the bench stiffly, and right as Adrien opened his mouth to speak, Kagami had beat him to it.

“I have something I need to say, and I need you to not talk, but to listen.” Adrien nodded, curious as to what she had to say. “I’ve been watching you. I’ve noticed how you interact with all of the girls, and there is one girl that you treat differently than all the rest.”

Adrien didn’t know where she was going with this, but he didn’t dare to speak. 

“You...” she paused, as if trying to find the right words, or picking them carefully, “care for Marinette more than you do the others. I’ve noticed your wordless conversations, the way you naturally lean into her, the way your face lights up when you’re in the same room together.” Kagami paused, and Adrien was still processing what she had just said to notice. He never thought anyone would pick up on those things, especially one of the other contestants. “I value our friendship, Adrien, and I would like for it to continue,” Kagami continued, and Adrien forced himself to fully focus on her words. “but I cannot allow someone who is clearly in love with another to meet my Mother.”

She said it so matter of factly, that it took Adrien a moment to realize that she was breaking up with him.

“If you could please show me to my car, I’ll have my things picked up and I’ll be on my way.”

Adrien knew better than to ignore a command like that and quickly stood and walked her towards the road where another SUV was waiting. He had expected Kagami to get right into the car, but instead she lingered. “Just make sure you keep her happy, she’s a genuinely good person who deserves that much.” Kagami turned and put her hand on the door handle and opened the door, wide enough for Adrien to see all the way through it. “If you ever need another fencing partner, my foil could use someone new to give an ass whooping to.” Adrien laughed at that as Kagami climbed into the car and Adrien watched her disappear into the night.

~

~

Let me know if you wanna be added to the tag list

@momor3202

@legendaryneckjudgestudent

@discoveringmiraculouswriters

@adrianarfox

@veroocasanova

@jeminiikrystal

[lornahansonforbes]

Prologue

If you’re reading this today, then you know I’m dead, dead to you as you are to me, and that should make you so very happy.

I gave it all up sitting at a red light.

This last piece is the final chapter of “The Emesis Tray of Feelings,” it’s a trilogy.

The trilogy contains one play, “Hot Neon Lights” and “Patina on the Edge,” which is a series of monologues and now this, “It Didn’t Happen,” a one act play.

The first installment, “Hot Neon Lights,” tells the story of two events. Act One is a very messy breakdown followed by the fourth and final attempt of my taking my own life. I failed four times. Act Two is about six to weeks later and the family meeting with the psychiatrist where they decide if I should be locked up in hospital or go cold Turkey. There was no option, no Grey area, only black and white.

“Patina on the Edge,” is a series of monologues that highlights moments of grand and glorious to being a homeless junkie who was sucking dick, meanwhile being a thief and a shitkicker was a great way to being truly infamous. Lofty goals. It parallels the story that’s laid out in “Hot Neon Lights.”

“It Didn’t Happen.” is a one act play with four scenes. Scene one, the night of the breakup and a month after the breakup. Scene two, a phone call about the breakup. Scene three, a group of friends who just saw the two aforementioned plays and are in a bar talking about what The New York Times will say about “Hot Neon Lights” and “Patina on the Edge.”

As you read this, do know that this is like Ivory Soap, ninety-nine and forty-four one hundredth percent (99 44/100%) true.

Several people have been merged into one character and not vice versa.

You should know that I died alone and bitter that I was never truly loved by anyone except by my dogs, Zoey, Chase, Auggie, The Brother Levi, CoCo and Harry; and my three cats, Rasselas, Othello and Belle Kitty.

I sadly cannot think of one person, past or present, who ever truly loved me.

I suffered with Bipolar Depression and Anxiety for a large portion of my life. The three guys who I stupidly referred to as my boyfriend, I see now that they barely tolerated me as did my family.

I don’t give a shit. You and whomever can say what you want about me and pepper it generously with Drama Qween. You do know that but I can only tell you what my perception was and how I saw things, but as usual, you’re right and I’m wrong. Fuck you, your opinion is paying for my funeral and you had the option not to read this.

Lastly, all the things I’ve written starting in the 1980’s and in between has been thrown out and erased etc. Yeppers. All gone. I kept it all but as of this entry, I threw it all out.

Since I’ve submitted to various outlets and people yet only to learn I’ve been ignored.

But you can find me on Tumblr and not on Tinder. Good luck with that.

Post Script:

I’ve told stories about how I lived and how I overcame. “You should write a book.” Motherfucker, don’t play with me. You ain’t gonna fucking read it. Why even bother existing? I’m done. If you really want to know, actually pick up the phone and call me. Bye, Felicia.

I forgot to tell you that someone asked me not to give up writing. Sorry but I’m not gonna change my mind about cutting off my nose to spite myself.

Scene One

The late summer sun was slowly going down as we approached the corner of Melrose and North Robertson.

Granted it was nearly 8:00 PM, the sun was still blazing away. I turned to look from the passenger seat to see people milling about waiting to go inside but also the paparazzi was there gawking and snapping pictures.

She slowed the car down for just a millisecond and then took a sharp left turn. Then Sister Mary of the Perpetual Parking Spot smiled down upon us and she pulled in and parked the car.

The restaurant sign read Ty’s Thai Tie Dye, an Indochina Conglomerate. We went inside and were seated way in the back. It was a jungle, flowers, potted trees and Passion Flower vines everywhere. The sun broke through like mosaic tiles.

Dinner was delicious and uneventful. She was now pulling up in front of my modest flat.

“Darling, I’m sure we’ve had a wonderful evening but I feel that my husband is all over us these past few weeks. I’m just so sick and tired of seeing his Gold Audi here and there every time we go out. Why can’t we agree to disagree with the fact that I’m who I am and you are you we aren’t able to carry on like this anymore. I know that I should break it to you gently, but let’s rip the fucking Band-Aid off, it’s over. Don’t speak. Let’s go our separate ways with our splendiferous memories and as the cliché states, when you do speak of me, be kind,” she blurted out without looking at me.

It took me a moment and then I watched her Black Jaguar Vandam Plas glide away and disappear. Nearly comatose, I fumbled for my keys and took those first tentative steps towards the front door. I saw my cat in the window and her deep gold eyes. We looked directly at each other. I got in my car only to pound the steering wheel with tears in my eyes.

“You ungrateful bitch,” I screamed so loud that my ears were ringing worse than being a rock concert.

I drove into the night with flashes of our tongues lashing about like in some porn as we tore our clothes off each other. She was moist. My turgidity.

I landed at Pfeiffer Beach and I saw a Sandpiper. Fuck my life. The sound of the crashing waves and the sun rising. Stumbling back to my car I spied that CHP had paid a visit with a bright orange parking ticket tucked neatly underneath the wiper blades. God damn it to hell.

When I turned the car over, the radio was blaring, some static but nonetheless it jangled my nerves.

“Now, I am strong enough. Now, I’m strong enough to accept change. Yes, my darling, if you want to live in another place, I can understand it. It’ gonna hurt for a little while, but I can understand it, but before you walk out that door, touch me in the morning,” this woman’s anger and hurt were front and center. We were simpatico at that moment. We were both in a world of hurt and she like me, we were not feeling it.

I tapped a button on my car radio and my playlist replaced her voice as I pulled into traffic on Route 1 South heading home leaving Pfeiffer Beach in my rear view mirror.

Whoever that female voice was previously on my radio, I felt like Kathy Bates and I was swinging that sledgehammer and I left her there to suffer.

Normally I’m not that guy who “gets in touch with their feelings.” It’s just not in my DNA and when I do “get in touch,” it’ll be like a Gatling gun. Crumpled up like a wad of paper, riddled with bullets and left to die gasping for breath in a pool of blood.

This morning I got up and was meandering around my neighborhood. I have absolutely no idea how it happened but I stopped into a local coffee shop and got a Chai Latte. I usually get a green juice with pomegranate and Acai.

I was in a deep, deep funk since I had dinner with my friend and she dumped me. Who was she to me? My girlfriend; friend with benefits: fuck buddy; mistress or just another conquest? Whatever it was, it was good and it lasted but it wasn’t like this hadn’t happened before and so this came to pass and now in my mind I heard Louis Prima singing, “…everywhere I go.” If I really wanted to hear that song, I’d rather find the David Lee Roth remake.

Apparently I got my steps in this morning without some contraption attached to me or some app on my phone. I plunked my narrow behind down on a concrete Jersey barrier and I looking at the waves crashing onto Dockweller Beach. I know it’s not Malibu Beach just a short drive North and it certainly wasn’t Malibu Beach in Boston. From that vantage point, you’ll see the highway and Sister Corita Kent’s artwork in the distance.

Seriously what the fuck, yo? Processing, tabulating, analyzing, and parsing the events of being dumped. I know I saw the data, but what did it reveal? Was it actually that simple or was I looking at the galley’s for the unabridged Cyrillic version of Tolstoy’s tome with copious notes in the margins. Could I decipher The Daily Jumble? Was I looking at some foreign language? Was I experiencing some sort of dyslexia? Sigh! Could I really clean this mess with a piece of used snotty paper?

I’m solving Pi!! Yeah, yeah!! That’s the ticket!!

I clenched my hand around my paper cup and almost spilled my Chai latte. I was fucking pissed.

“Ungrateful BITCH,” that right I said it and I said it with such furious anger venom was dripping of my fangs.

What a difference a day makes. Bull-fucking-shit. Something felt dissimilar yet had I seen the same thing from a different vantage point?

At that exact moment I heard one of those thumper cars approaching blaring something I didn’t understand  anything but I did hear, “Baile, baile con El General” and just like that the car was gone. Was Joy Division only for headphones? This is Los Angeles not Colby College.

Perched on the Jersey barrier, I wasn’t contemplating why lint gets in my navel.  I couldn’t dodge raindrops. Had I tabled my ego? Were my expectations quickly quieted? Was it like that thumper car; was I blaring or amplifying some sort of acceptance of defeat? The hounds had been released at the same time as I gave up my control? I can be that Type-A personality, driven and getting in touch with my feeling resided in an abyss somewhere, but the fuck if I know.

I felt dampness. Where am I now? Am I on the Maid of the Mist or standing underneath Niagara Falls? God damn it to hell!! I was crying. I normally don’t do that. I clenched my jaw so tightly I had TMJ.

“Mission Accomplished,” I think was actually the last time I did cry, but that was for my furry friends, Mickey & Minnie and then it was Stanley & Blanche. Do I get ahold of the anger in me? What the fuck? Maybe a word, a smile, an hour of happiness? NETX??!! I picked up my phone. I scrolled through my contacts. In a parallel universe, I called you a thousand times when I know I did not and I never will call you.

A boisterous and vociferous colony of seagulls appeared just a few yards away from me. Fuck. Hitchcock.

My paper cup is empty. I knew I had to dispose of it. Recycle, reuse, repurpose or like this affair, would it end up in a landfill? Just another thing to be unceremoniously and recklessly tossed away. It’s just a thing.

With a great exasperated sigh, eight months, two weeks and a day. That’s how long it lasted without me actually keeping track of it. Don’t go there. Don’t judge me. Men and women silently judge me and you but I can only assume they leave something on me so I don’t catch cold. Oh, shit. We had seen other naked. She fucking hurt me. Okay, I’m not that person, who’d scrawl, No Sale, on a mirror if I found a check and a note that read, “Last night was dope.”

My phone beeped, a text message letting me know I had to drive to Pacoima.

Gotta bounce. Later. Onto embrace the new challenges ahead and channel them into existence.

Scene Two

Part Three.

A Hello, bleep.

B How did you know it was me?

A I’ve known for a long time and plus it’s out there.

B Why did you say that?

A What did I say exactly?

B Don’t give me that bullshit. I saw it.

A I told you about how I felt but then I felt around in the dark and I didn’t know how that single cell actually started to feel like encouragement.

B What I said was to do it for yourself and not me.

A I did it for you first and then afterwards I got to me.

B You took more than you should have and you took it to another place. Also that’s not how it went down.

A It’s how some people work. As I told before, give me a thing to work with and I can easily create from there.

B I only told you about a sixteenth of what happened.

A But that was enough for me and those three sentences told me everything I needed to know. Fuck bleep, I told you recently about my Bipolar Depression and how I grapple with it hour by hour and mostly by myself with no assistance or guidance from anyone.

B I appreciate that and your candor but it makes me crazy. But fuck bleep, I know how mentally exhausted some people feel being in your orbit.

A Bleep, dude, we’re trying to get to that place in the day where we can say, I’m still here. First we get out of bed unassisted and the rest is gravy.

B Why such labels? I mean I know most of the names but you know I’m a tee shirt and jeans.

A Without inferring or intimating the slightest thing, I had a good feeling that who she is and most likely she has her own money but she doesn’t dismiss her husband’s money.

B I have my own money too but I’m not going to be seen eating on North Robertson.

A Possibly I’d see you at one place on Melrose or on Alameda and they’re not that far from where I put you. Then again, there’s a place around the way and you can walk there. I pay attention to things like that ever since I saw Russell Simmons ex wife Creamora eating at raw restaurant in LA a few years ago.

B Wow. How did find that out?

A She had a reality show and they showed her eating there and as a woman of color, she nearly lost her mind. One of things they served was a pizza but it wasn’t a New York pepperoni pizza all hot and gooey with cheese. I yelled at the TV, Gurl, I’ll take a slice. I’m in.

B Wait a minute, bleep. You told me you have issues with food.

A I do but sometimes I’ve got to throw caution to the wind and suffer with each delicious bite.

B So that’s why you fabricated that restaurant.

A Well, kinda sorta. When I was in LA, I found a great little Thai place a few blocks away from The Dolby and if I remembered the name I would’ve told you about it. They’ve got some amazing vegan options.

B This is one of the things I find about you, you know some of the most trivial things and it’s fucking scary.

A Bleep, I just hope I don’t actually lose my mind. I’d hope that you or someone else would put me down if dementia or Alzheimer’s effected me.

B Don’t say that. I sometimes like it when you remember what happened way back when.

A I’m not sure what’s going to happen but I’m still here regardless.

B I’ve got to ask why you said I cried.

A Bleep, you are but one of many Taurus men I know and if they do actually cry, it’ll be in the shower and they’d never admit to knowing how to cry. They might well up with tears but never cry in front of anyone ever.

B That’s fucked up.

A Taurus men do write but never about their feelings nor do they own a diary or journal. If that April born man exists who shares their feelings, they are a very rare breed of man.

B Well writing isn’t my thing.

A You sound exhausted.

B I had to compose myself and all the while I cursed your name.

A Oh it’s because I hit a nerve?

B You’re the last person I’d ever, of course, I think of to wax philosophic and then admit it to someone else let alone admit it to myself.

A Bleep, motherfucker, I’m completely aware and yet I’m not living under the delusion by pining away waiting for you to ask.

B No, it’s not that but does fall in the same zip code and then I used one word, empath. You dug as deep as you could and I’m like, fuck, man, I’m on the phone with you.

A Bleep. Bleep. I’ve known ever since your old EarthLink email and I never and I wouldn’t unless you asked. I told you before I see things that I don’t necessarily understand and with each message, I just end up seeing something.

B I gathered as much. There’s my Nou-Nou. Come up. It’s okay. Come on, Nou-Nou. Move your lard ass, Janx. There you go. All better. Rumple, not a word. You stay right there and let Nou-Nou get some.

A The kittehs!!

B Don’t distract. I’m not sure if you have a malignant will or you gave me something to think about.

A I can’t apologize more. I’m truly very sorry. I riffed on an idea and here we are.

B Life isn’t over as you think of it just because you’re alive. There’s more.

A That’s why I told you that I wouldn’t write again. Stirred the pot.

B You’re a dick.

A And your point is? A cunt? I’m The Dowager Empress and that’s all there is to that.

B You’re so full of shit.

A We’re not going to snap at each other like two terriers.

B Is this what we’ve been reduced to? Bickering just for arguments sake?

A You’re the one with the brown eyes, so you could possibly be full of shit. I’ve got green eyes, pea green with jealousy.

B You said some shit and it hit me. What’s that thing you usually say? Oh yeah, it’s a punch in the face you can’t take back.

A Bleep, dude. Most people want that moment in life where someone grabs ahold of you and pleads with you not to leave. It’s been played out in the movies, but not in our lives, right? I don’t know the life you led but I’ve had three boyfriends and each one of them dumped me. I’ve cried and played all the sad songs. You could have possibly done the same thing but let’s face it fucking Cher said it best, we all sleep alone.

B Whitney clapped back and said I’d rather be alone than be unhappy.

A True. But I had the near perfect relationship with The Beast. More than 40 years together. We both had separate lives and we were celibate lovers. We had each other’s back we did everything for love but we never did that. I knew that he wasn’t some Sir Galahad to love from afar, motherfucker was two legged boa constrictor. I’m okay with dying alone and unloved.

B That’s really a fucking bleak future. Well insert a happy go-lucky cliché here followed by Shady Pines. I can’t with you, bleep.

A I know that we’re estranged but don’t divorce me or fire me just yet.

B Okay.

-The curtain comes down and the audience breaks out in an uproar of applause and cheers-

Scene Three

E What was that we just watched?

CI wish I knew.

E 90 minutes of a conversation that never happened?

D Clearly you’ve missed the point of it. Two guys who knew each other since high school and they meet up years later. One guy had a bad break up and the other guy was now, as he said, a widower.

C Excuse me?

E Yeah excuse me. I don’t see it. Okay high school is one thing but forty years later, they’re talking like that?

D Okay let’s go for a quick pop at The Stone and we’ll go home afterwards.

E Which stone?

C I think that the closest one is Rosetta.

D No. That’s by Park Avenue. I think this one is Killarney but is it Kilkerry? Fuck. It’s right here at 8th Avenue.

C Don’t make thing of it but look over getting of that cab, Miles Silverberg.

E I know that name.

D Murphy Brown.

C It is him. Not bad looking but not my type.

D Bitch, your type is anyone who can make the letter O.

C You should talk. You’re still paying off that asbestos abatement from the last one.

D The two of you are practically virgins again, but then again Father Frank doesn’t give confessionals.

C/E Fuck you.

D Oh look, we’re here.

E I’ve always wondered exactly how many bars in Manhattan are actually Irish bars.

C Probably a few but I’m not sure. There’s only one Blarney Stone and I think it’s in Lower Manhattan not here in Midtown. I’m thinking that anything above 23rd Street is either owned by The Vara or Lyons’ Brothers.

E Damn.

D Hello, Merrick. We like a bottle of your best Shiraz and three glasses. We’ll be over here. Thank you. Yes, Merrick, yes you’re all that but put a ring on it.

E Why won’t you just fuck him and get it over with?

D We like this game. We just love to flirt with each other. No harm, no foul.

C She’s been playing with Merrick for years and he loves the attention.

E I wonder what The Times says tomorrow.

D This is the the last chapter of the trilogy. Uh…

C First was Hot Neon Lights, second was Patina on the Edge and now, It Didn’t Happen.

D I can’t get it out of my head that one scene with the mother fighting with the dad. She was so mad at him, she put out a cigarette in her hand.

C Oh fuck yeah, that was fucking brutal.

E Can someone get that mad?

D She’s his mother and momma bear wasn’t having it.

C True but I’m not sure about the pretentious names. Trenton Burroughs English and Daniel Charles Snyder. But you know what? They’re actual people. I found out that Trenton is some how many times removed from the Queen of Norway and Daniel is a surgeon with Doctors Without Borders. AND the most fucked up thing is that they don’t know each and have never met.

D You know what’s even more fucked up than? There’s an actual family here on the social register here in New York with the last name, Frankenstein. Google that.

E Thank you, Merrick. Ladies, a toast?

C Yes please and don’t be stingy.

D Miss Thing, leave some for the rest of us.

ALL 3 Cheers! Give my regards to Broadway!!

E Hot Neon Lights was excellent, though I thought the two fantasy moments were beyond me.

D Why?

E Is that what you’d expect from dropping a hit of acid?

C Not all the time. It’s different from person to person. I did it once and I had goosebumps most of the time and I saw these white penny tiles dance like waves and I was surfing.

D I went to see a midnight showing of Eraserhead in college and I hate that fucking movie. Sigh. I cringe whenever I hear, Eraserhead is dead. I wanna punch someone in the face.

E Damn and I said I was traumatized by seeing Gina Gershon’s pubic hair in Killer Joe. I’m sorry but on the silver screen in a crowded theater. I shudder to think.

C A straight guy cringing at the mound of Venus? What happened? Did you see your mother in the shower?

E It’s not that deep. My face is one thing but on a forty-foot screen? Shit was scary.

D Yeah that is unforgettable. Besides that, was the movie any good?

E I don’t know. I mean William Friedkin directed The Exorcist. Both are going to fuck with your head, period.

D Oh yeah he did but what was really fucked up was in Patina on the Edge when he told us how his father and stepmother thought that they were watching his life story on the silver screen.

C What fucked with my head with my head was when he told us that he actually went to M Street and those stairs. I saw the picture and it was daytime and the caption read, Here laid Father Merrin’s body. Regan MacNeil astro-projected his priestly self right out the window. Rest in Power, Mercedes McCambridge.

E What?

C Yeah. Gimme a second.

D You’re obsessed much?

C I couldn’t believe it myself and I took a screenshot. Look.

E Damn. That’s really fucked up. Here.

D Oh my God! That is fucked up.

C I know reality stranger than fiction.

E It wasn’t science fiction or was it tonight?

D Whatever it was, it was some great writing. He can tell a story.

C What did you get out of it?

E I’m thinking that after seeing Hot Neon Lights, Patina on the Edge and tonight’s It Didn’t Happen, I think they should have a face to face and make a decision if they’re going to be actual friends and figure out if they want to be celibate lovers and in a platonic marriage.

D Fuck that bullshit. It’s obvious that they are actually going to have a contentious relationship and they’re not going to find each other sitting together chatting it up in Shady Pines. The only thing that they can have is a hidden mutual respect for each other and the rest of us can only imagine that since neither one of them will admit to anything. He’s a whore and he’s a prude. They don’t know what they want, but can they be friends in any iteration of the meaning. We’ll never know.

C Well…unrequited love can keep you going. Okay I’ve got unrequited love too but I see mine as that song, All American Boy by Steve Grand. I just love that song and I’m obsessed with the media calling it Brokeback Breakout and he’s like the Gay Cowboy. That’s really a bad cliché but it’s even worse to know that not every fag wants to suck the quarterback’s dick. Yeah let that big man on campus get a pot belly and go bald, and at the 40th high school reunion you’re still in a size seven like me and what’s even worse is that all the girls want to kill me.

D Do let me know when old and bitter arrives.

E Oh c’mon. It can’t be all that bad. You’re supposed to live off a compliment for two weeks, but I always hope for the best. I mean I like my family and we all get along.

C Well how nice for you but I doubt it. It’s like Homer isn’t going to strangle Bart for the umpteenth time.

E Back to the other moment in Hot Neon Lights, what was up with that Diana Ross scene?

D That was explained in Patina.

C Yeah. He went to the Diana Ross Live at Caesar’s Palace show on two hits of mescaline but I think the point was like she said, I am and I’m going to be.

D Powerful.

E Didn’t he also explain how he could actually touch the guy on the flying trapeze at the circus. Apparently he likes dropping acid.

C Patina had that whole conversation about “Gee whiz. Boy I was drunk last night.”

D Yeah it was consensual but I’m not sure if they were that drunk or that high.

E I know right but he did fuck that girl after an eight ball.

C Oh yes! He was up to THANGS!!

D Indeed he was but that failed threesome was even funnier.

E Give the guy a break. I’m not sure if he wanted to fuck the husband in front of his wife or fuck the wife as the husband was going to fuck him.

C YES!! The bamboo chair hanging from the ceiling. If I was in that same situation I have no idea how to proceed.

E True, true, but I’m glad he told us from the jump, we’d never believe it actually happened. My mind hurts.

D Look gentlemen, the bottle is empty and we all have to go to work in a few hours. Let’s table this for the next time. Until then.

E Okay but it’s Romeo & Juliet with social media at The Public.

C That’s got to be something else. We’ll text after we read the review in The Times.

ALL 3 Good night, Merrick!!

[holycow99]

石田お寿司 29/7/21 stream translation Part 1

T/n: This is not the full translation of the stream. I only translated the parts I could understand & interpret or parts I found interesting/important. I’m still a beginner in Japanese, so the translations may not be accurate. If you want to repost, please repost at your own risk. I’ve changed the format as this format seems better. I’ll be writing in this format from now on.

*Someone asked him about his throat.

I: My throat? It’s normal. (t/n: He had a sore throat a few weeks ago)

I: I was asleep when chp 5 was released. It was already dark when I woke up.

*People in the comment praised chp 5.

I: Thank you, thank you. I’m glad you liked it.

C: I’m waiting for the translation!

I: It coming soon. (t/n: He’s speaking in eng.) It sounds like a wrong eng.

C: Are you right handed?

I: Yes, I am.

I: For chapter 6, I’ll probably finish drawing it if I work until the day after tomorrow, even though I haven’t made any progress at all. After that, I’ll add in the typesetting and then it’ll probably finished around 2nd or 3rd August. I’d be bad if I couldn’t get it done after I’ve said this.

C: Fumi (Jack Jeanne’s character) plays erhu? (t/n: OP’s referring to JJ OST album’s illustration.)

I: Yeah. Kosemura Akira (composer for Jack Jeanne) wanted to use erhu when composing Fumi’s theme song. So, he asked a famous person to play it. It’s really rare to have erhu in songs. Not many people in Japan play it. Why did he choose erhu? Then, when imagining what kind of instruments suit each character, for Kai, he has that deep, bass feeling. So, his instrument is double bass. Piano is Kisa. Suzu is, of course, all about hitting the beat. Drum is an important instrument in rhythm creation. For yonaga, it’s a wind instrument. I want him to play a pipe. You won’t understand even if I talk about it. Should I leave the picture here? Wait a min, let me show you.

*Someone commented about Tokyo revengers’ illustration.

I: Oh yes, I did an illustration of Tokyo Revengers’ Mikey. I want to draw Draken as well.

*He showed the illustration of JJ’s characters with instruments.

I: I drew Shirota playing guitar. For some reason, I imagined he could play guitar. And then, instruments like viola (referring to Neji). Otori plays maracas.

I: That’s how it is. And then, we have the Sui exhibition in Nagoya. I’ve been writing report on the event. Isn’t it amazing? Probably not. It’s for myself after all. Rather than for myself, I’d get mixed up if the exhibition is held in a lot of places. 

*He started Playing Ghosts n’ Goblins.

C: I really want to play Ghosts n’ Goblins, but it seems so stressful.

I: It’s not stressful, rather you’d feel angry.

*Giant monsters appeared.

I: Just now on discord, Goubaru texted me saying he wanted to call me, but I rejected. He’s expressing his anger right now. (t/n: He referred the monsters stomping the ground as angry Goubaru.)

C: Sensei, there’s no love counselling session today?

I: It seems like some of you were happy when I gave love advice. There’s someone who became a couple with her childhood friend. She said she’s gonna talk to her bf once again. What was the problem again? Something like she had trouble chatting with her bf through mail. I advised her not to then. Hahaha.

C: Do you remember people who always watch your livestream?

I: Not at all. I do remember you *****-san. (t/n: He mentioned OP’s name)

I: I tried listening to my own stream while working. When I listened to it, I realised I have a tendency to pick comments from specific people. There’re people who know to comment at the right timing, like Y****. (t/n: He mentioned the fan he always chats with) It seems like I pick them based on the colour (?), name length, and comments that are easy to pick. Weirdly enough, I always end up reading the comments from the same people.

*He’s fighting another angry and aggressive Goubaru.

C: Is Goubaru usually like this?

I: I wonder… I think so. But, he often wore this kind of down jacket, like for a year. A purple one. Even though the fabric wasn’t that thick, wearing a down jacket must be hot, right? He didn’t take it off when he’s in the workplace. He even wore it during summer. I asked him why, and he said it’s because he wanted to hide his body line. Sounds like a problem an attractive woman would’ve. I do kinda understand that. It’s probably the same reason as women who wears loose clothing as to not have their chest shown too much. He always wore purple down jackets due to reasons like that.

C: My dad also always wears down jackets in every season to hide his body line.

I: I’d tell those kind of people to lose weight.

C: Wearing down jacket and sweating is probably their way of losing weight.

I: No, but even if you sweat, you won’t lose weight. Those who’re dieting probably know this already, but sweating only reduce the water percentage in your body. Just because you sweat a lot doesn’t mean you’d lose weight. In the end, it all depends on the amount of fat you lose and the amount of muscle mass you gain.

I: With sauna, I don’t think you can lose weight. If you drink water, you gain back the amount of water you lost. However, if you don’t drink water for 2 days, you’d probably lose 2-3kg. Human bodies are made up of 70% of water after all.

C: Sauna only makes you feel refreshing.

I: Sauna makes you feel good. I think that, in itself, is nice too. It’s just that only fat people think that they can lose weight wearing down jacket. 

(t/n: I might’ve translated it a bit harsh, but I don’t think he meant it in a bad way. Please don’t be offended.)

C: Did you tell that to him?

I: I told him a lot of things. Something like “you’re gonna die” or “you’re gonna have your limbs amputated”. I have a younger friend who’s slightly diabetic, I think. He had always been fat, though he sometimes went on diet. His family knew a lot of people in the medical field, so they kept telling him to go to hospital. When he did the examination, he was told that he had a chance of getting diabetes. But Goubaru is a slob, so he wouldn’t visit hospital by his own volition, though I’m not qualified to say that since I also don’t really visit hospitals. He might be in a worse condition since he wouldn’t get checked up, so I think it’s best for him to lose weight.

I: Why being fat is not good for your health is because when the fat dissolves in your blood, the blood vessels will get clogged. That’s why I think it’s not good.

C: How much is your body fat percentage (BFP)?

I: How much is it…I’m not aiming to be ridiculously skinny or whatever. The average would be around 16-17%? It’d be great if I can get there. When I was on a rigorous diet, my BFP was as low as 13%. Some people are able to get to 10%. I wonder how they do that?

I: I’ve heard from someone about Goubaru’s body fat percentage. I’ve been talking about him, but his BFP is scary. It seems like he has 45% of fat in his body. He is nothing but a lump of fats already. The mother in Atashinchi (a classic manga) is also the same. Do you guys know Atashinchi? The mother is kinda fat. She’s also has around 45% BFP I think.

C: How much does Goubaru weigh?

I: I think he already surpassed 100kg, but I don’t know about now.

C: To be able to surpass 100kg is a talent.

I: Right. I’ve heard about that in Bananaman’s (Japanese comedy duo) radio or something. Mr. Himura (a member of Bananaman) was around 90kg at that time, though I don’t know his weight now. It’s probably around 10 years ago. He said he’s weighed more than 100kg, and that weighing 105 kg is a talent. 100kg was like the threshold for your body and you surpassed that limit.

C: There’s someone like Goubaru in my class.

I: But you don’t know him. Do you mean him having the same weight?

C: My classmate who weighs over 100kg broke the school chair just by sitting on it.

I: The weight is one thing, but even though chairs could withstand heavy amount of load, they’re not durable. Goubaru’s chair made a few scary noises whenever he sat down. It sounded similar to the sound effect of the door being opened in Inagawa Junji’s (an actor & ghost storyteller) ghost stories. I thought Mr. Junji was there.

Part 2