#colors ended up pretty similar to the prior piece even though i was trying to do something else lol rip

[bionicboxes]

THE SMOOTH TASTE OF [NEO]

[the-weirdos-mind]

League of Villains X Teen! Reader: You’re Gonna Go Far, Kid

Songfic of the song with the same name by The Offspring. Here’s the reader’s quirk: 

 Quirk- Manipulation

Type- Emitter

How it works- Similar to Aizawa’s and Nighteye’s quirks you have to look someone in the eye to get them under control. They’re unaware that you’re controlling them but still aware of their senses. When you have someone under control you can do whatever you want with them until you either look away from that person (it doesn’t always have to be eye contact), blink, or release them. Whenever someone is under your spell, it’s like being trapped in a room with one-way glass. They are aware of what’s going on but, can’t get help. 

Drawbacks- If you use the power for more than an hour you’ll get a headache. If you push yourself you’ll get a migraine. You can choose when to activate it and for how long but the time still adds to an hour no matter how many times you activate it in the day.

Trigger warnings: Blood and use of violence, if I’m missing anything then let me know so I can correct it 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Show me how to lie You're getting better all the time And turning all against the one Is an art that's hard to teach

    You followed Giran down the hallway to an unknown place. You had the hood of you (F/C) on to hide your (H/L) (H/C) hair with your eyes on the ground. You watched as foot after foot in (F/C) shoes put pressure on the dirty ground. You mentally sighed as you reflect your life choices. You didn’t want to live this life but everyone around you saw your quirk as one thing; villainous. You got tired of the words and became what they wanted you be. You realized that heroes are worthless and they didn’t care that a young (boy/girl/person) was heading down a dark path. You glanced up to see the man opening the door. You immediately looked down and followed him in the room.

     Side glancing at the room you noticed it was a bar. There was a purple cloud like man with yellow eyes in a suit and a metal brace around his neck. He was polishing a glass behind the bar. On a red stool was another man holding a glass of alcohol. He had his pinky raised away from the glass though and you silently raised an eyebrow. Is this because of his quirk or is he British? His shaggy blue hair was covering most of his face but when he turned to face the two, you saw a pale hand covering his face and his red eyes glaring at you. You glanced down at the floor. Not yet.

    “You seriously brought a child?” He asked setting the glass cup down. “You do know that this is for mature adults? And (she/he/they) can’t stare at me in the eyes? How rude.” His voice was raspy and you concluded he was holding the glass like that was because of his quirk.

  “Shigaraki, this is (Y/N), I brought (him/her/them) cause (he/she/they) need some training with (his/her/their) quirk.” Giran said and took a drag from his cigarette. He exhaled and a smoke cloud came in the room. “(He/She/They) is getting better at it but, (he/she/they) still needs some help.”

    You rolled your eyes at him. “At least I don’t treat kids like they’re nothing.” You mumbled still bitter about Shigaraki’s comment.

     “What was that?” The blue haired man asked, dangerously.

     “So, you’re deaf huh? I thought an excellent leader would treat a new recruit with respect no matter the age they are.”

Another clever word Sets off an unsuspecting herd And as you get back into line A mob jumps to their feet

    “Shut up.” Shigaraki muttered and scratched his neck. He was stressed about the trouble this kid was causing. Sure he and Dabi didn’t get along but he liked being in control. “(He/She/They) is mature for (his/her/their) age.” Giran said. “Maybe with (him/her/them) as leader it won’t be bad.” He added. He knew what you were doing. If you get him mad enough to get him to look at you in the eye then you can show off your quirk. You did keep your mouth shut as the man stood up and walked over to you. You looked at him in the eye and a (F/C) hue came to your (E/C) eyes. His eyes begin to fog up a little, not enough to appear blind but enough to look suspicious.

Now dance, ****er, dance Man, he never had a chance And no one even knew It was really only you

     Shigaraki barely saw the change of your eye color. He was so surprised to started dancing. His feet moved in a fast pace in place. “What the ****!?!” He yelled, only in his mind. Dabi started laughing again. The scarred man leaned over clutching his stomach. He’s laughing so hard he might start crying, or blood will fall from his destroyed tear ducts, if he’s not careful. After a few minutes of dancing you blinked to end the curse on him. They didn’t know that you caused it to happen. Giran smirked and patted you on the head. “What the h***?” The man asked looking around, wondering what just happened.

    “That is (his/her/their) quirk at work.” He man said before the other could get angry. “With a power like (hers/his/theirs) would be useful for heist situations and causing diversions wouldn’t it?”

    “What is (his/her/theirs) quirk?” The wisp man asked.

    “Manipulation.” You said. “Whenever I look at someone in the eyes it activates my power. I can hold control of them for at least an hour before I get a headache. Best part is no one knows that they’re under my grasp.” You said.

    “I’ll admit that I’m impressed.” Shigaraki said. “Welcome I guess.”

    Giran smiled. “You won’t be disappointed.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

And now you steal away Take him out today

   After a few weeks of joining the League you’re on your first solo mission. Before this one you were mainly paired with a blonde haired girl named Toga. She was pretty nice when she wasn’t obsessing over blood or trying to stab you. Other times you were paired with a man named Twice. He would say two different things and it would give you mixed feelings about a job well done.

    You walked through the area of the city to a hero agency. Your job is to find maps of the inside and steal them. Shigaraki didn’t care if they were on paper or not all he cared about was getting them, It’s pretty simple to do but considering this is you, you had a knife and a handheld gun just in case if things went south. So far it was going well. You got a security guard under control and using him you were able to get a computer with the building’s layout on it. Pulling out a flash drive that Compress had given you, you stuck it in the computer and start downloading. Unfortunately, you looked away from the guard and he glared at you.

    “I don’t know your plan here kid, but it’s best if you leave now.” He said. He did try to alert someone but it was useless, he was trapped in his mind until you looked away. You looked at him and put your hand in your pocket with the knife.

    “I don’t think so.” You said. Before he could call for backup you pulled the knife out and threw it at his chest. He gasped at the impact of the knife and slumped to the floor. Blood was falling from the wound fast, staining his shirt and forming a puddle. Thankfully there was a ding as the data had finished uploading to the flash drive. You walked over to the computer and pulled it out. You smirked as you pocketed it and pulled the knife out from the guard. You left the building leaving behind a guard slowly bleeding to death.

Nice work you did You're gonna go far, kid

    You walked back into the hideout and put the flash drive on the bar next to Shigaraki. He nodded at you when he saw it. “Good job. A win for us.” He said and carefully pocketed the piece of tech.

    “And in an hour too.” Spinner said.

    “That’s really impressive!” Twice said. “It’s not that impressive.”

    You feel a hand clamp on your head and ruffle your hair. “Not bad, kid.” Dabi said. He could tell you’re gonna go far in the villain industry.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

With a thousand lies And a good disguise Hit 'em right between the eyes Hit 'em right between the eyes

   You had gotten in the school with one of the best lies you have, your parents went there. It wasn’t U.A. but it’s also training people for the hero industry. The plan was to get the best marks in the school and transfer to U.A. as the highest in your class. Giran came into play for making fake documents that pass off as real.

    The one on one fight that took place with some kid you didn’t even bother to know was annoying. His quirk was something water related and you almost drowned a couple of times. You finally looked at him in the eye and ordered him to stop. You ran up to him and punched his face, in the between the eyes a couple of times. The first one stun him while the other knocked him out.

When you walk away Nothing more to say See the lightning in your eyes See 'em running for their lives

   You panted and wiped the sweat away from your forehead. You walked away from the ring where the training took place and looked at everyone else. They looked away from you in fear and parted like a body of water. You swore you saw someone running for their life. You smirked to yourself and took your seat on the bleachers. Pride danced in your eyes like lightning.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Slowly out of line And drifting closer in your sights So play it out I'm wide awake It's a scene about me

  The first thing the infamous Class 1-A noticed about you is how secretive you were. You shared nothing about yourself other than your name and quirk. They noticed that you did some… shady things to put it mildly. Some noticed you snuck out of the dorms at night. Idia, Miydoriya, Bakugo and Todoroki had followed you to an alleyway and heard you talking to some shadowy figure there. Both spoke in soft whispers that they couldn’t tell who you were talking to and whether or not they were male or female. Other than that occurrence, they didn’t get anything else.

   About a week later, the League attacked UA. You had managed to get them in through your student ID and gave them full access to the school, by a really good copy of the little plastic card. Five minutes prior to the attack, you had excused yourself from math, who needs it anyways, and went to the bathroom. While the lockdown was going on, you met with Toga in the halls. The plan was to get to All Might and kill him, the typical plan made by the man child of a leader you have. You both heard footsteps running towards you and saw it was the class president, Iida. “(L/N), get away from her!” He yelled, doing his hand chop thing. You smirked and took out the dagger the blonde handed you. “No, I don’t think I will.” You responded. Time to shine.

There's something in your way                                                                       And now someone is gonna pay And if you can't get what you want,                                                              Well, it's all because of me

    He stood there, shell shocked at the sight before him. His classmate was a villain? You couldn’t use your quirk yet, anyways. You decided to let the scene play out. You let a dark chuckle seeing his face. “All my life I’ve been told that I was best suited for a villain. You know, you could’ve used the time you knew me to get to know me but, everyone treated me the same as before! It’s too bad that things had to end like this. Wait, no it’s not that bad. You and your class are gonna pay!” You yelled. You lunged at him and he dodged as he snapped out of his shocked state.

    “(Y/N), it doesn’t have to be this way!” He said and continued to dodge the blade. He was still surprised and didn’t attempt to fight back because he couldn’t believe the suspicions about you were true. You growled in frustration. “It’s too late for me anyways. You can’t turn me to the light.” You said and looked at him in the eyes and yours started glowing (F/C). He almost let out a gasp but it didn’t leave his body as his eyes fogged up a little.

Now dance, ****er, dance, man, I never had a chance And no one even knew, it was really only you And now you'll lead the way

   You smiled as the class representative had fallen for your trick. “Now, we’re going back to the class, and you’re going to act like everything is alright.” You ordered.

   He nodded. “Yes, (Sir/Ma’am/Other).” He said, voice coming out robotically. He set off to find his class and you followed him, due to your power. The irony of the situation was almost amusing to you. Almost. The head of the class, now a puppet. A puppet that can dance to whatever twisted moves that you have set for it.

Show the light of day Nice work you did You're gonna go far, kid Trust deceived

    You followed him down the twisting paths of the hallways to the rest of the class. Your gaze fixed on the back of his head. You knew Toga was going to inform everyone else that everything was according to plan. Finally, the two of you reached the hiding area where everyone else was. “Thank goodness you found, (him/her/them!)” You heard Izuku said. Then he noticed that something was off about his classmates. You were refusing to look at anybody else than the boy in front of you and Iida’s looked dazed. Like he was… under someone’s control.

    The greenette’s eyes widened. His classmate was… no. He had his suspicions but the truth is hard to handle. Before he could say anything, Iida gave him a swift kick in the face.

With a thousand lies and a good disguise Hit 'em right between the eyes Hit 'em right between the eyes

    They stood there in surprise and shock. A blanket of fear had covered them, making them stand there like statues. The only sounds were the groans of Miydoriya and the thud of his body hitting the ground. “I-Iida.” Ochaco stuttered in fear. No one had expected the class president to attack their classmate outside of training. The blue haired boy then hit the nearest person, Mineta, giving him a punch to the cheek. No one really reacted to that. In all honesty, the grape had it coming.

When you walk away, nothing more to say See the lightning in your eyes See 'em running for their lives

     While they were distracted, you used the opportunity to leave. It didn’t matter if Iida was going to spill the secret you kept from them. That s*** was already out. You smirked to yourself knowing which side of the street you belong in.

Now dance, ****er, dance, he never had a chance And no one even knew, it was really only you So dance, ****er, dance, I never had a chance It was really only you

    The mission went out as planned. It was only a ploy to strike fear in the hearts of citizens. After all, an attack with no causalities is far worse with ones that do. You now sat at the bar, a bottle of water in your hand. You may be a criminal but the age of drinking consent is something that you can’t argue with.  No matter how hard you tried. The news was on talking about the event. Everyone was able to get away without anyone being caught. Call it luck or whatever but, you’re thankful that they did. The anchorwoman was talking about how a student was involved with the League and helped out. A picture of your face appeared on the screen and you smirked. It wasn’t a school photo but a mugshot from a previous capture. One you managed to get away from. No one even suspected you, or so you think, but regardless it’s wonderful to see.

With a thousand lies and a good disguise Hit 'em right between the eyes Hit 'em right between the eyes

    You couldn’t help but chuckled remembering the looks on each of their faces. What they thought was a classmate was really playing a part. A perfect disguise if you asked yourself. You have the innocent looking (boy/girl/person) appearance and if anyone who didn’t know you found out about your job. It would’ve made you laugh as not everything is as it seems.

    Your fists tingled as they remembered the feeling of their face contacting your skin. You placed the hand that held the plastic bottle on top of the other’s knuckles. The feeling is something you’re going to remember for a long time.

When you walk away, nothing more to say See the lightning in your eyes See 'em running for their lives

  A pair of footsteps came walking in and you dropped your hands to your lap. You see Shigaraki walking into the bar holding a folder, with a finger away from it as always. You know it could only mean one thing. “Another mission?” You asked, voicing your thoughts. The boss nodded and handed it to you.

     “Go over it and be ready for when the time comes. You did good on your last mission, keep up the good work. You’re a valuable character.” He said before walking away. You weren’t sure if the last sentence was a praise or another video game term but regardless you nodded.

     “Will do.” You said and opened it up, wondering what will be to cause more fear in the people. And more pride in yourself. Each success makes you happy.

Clever alibis, Lord of the Flies Hit 'em right between the eyes Hit 'em right between the eyes

   You almost busted out laughing seeing  which role you were supposed to play. An innocent citizen who loves all the hero crap. You won’t be alone this time, having Toga to accompany you on this one. You felt excited for the mission. It would mean more people will realize what idiots heroes truly are. The truth will knock them down from the clouds.

When you walk away, nothing more to say See the lightning in your eyes See 'em running for their lives

   But right now, it’s time for a nap. The last mission tired you out. You took the folder with you and walked to your room. All that matters right now is a bed, a blanket, and wonderful dreams of a world where people run in fear from you.

[ddarker-dreams]

Deal With The Devil. Yan Hades Giorno x Reader

Warnings: Isolation, implied kidnapping, forced marriage, brief non explicit sexual themes, and mentions of death.  Word count: 3.2k.

Time alone is better than time spent in the company of someone you despise. 

Skillful fingers run over the wilted stems of your carnations, a frown on your face at the current lifeless appearance. Dull shades of grey slowly turn to a vivacious green where your fingers pass over. Next are the petals, which are all but gone, a far cry from the flora’s typical beauty. At your delicate touch, it’s as if the hands of time are set in reverse. Soft fibers tickle your bare your skin, petals flourishing anew, now with a rosy glow. Standing from your bed, you return the revitalized carnations to their previous position on the windowsill. 

The bright, pastel colors are in stark contrast to the obsidian colored walls that trap you. Darkness, like an everlasting night, cannot be cast aside by your pretty decorations. No matter how hard you try to do just that. The lone sources of illumination in the underworld, torches or lanterns, have also earned your scorn. How you had taken the sun for granted, the natural warmth it provided ethereal in comparison to this manufactured light. Sighing, you push the negative thoughts away, aware they do nothing for you. Wallowing in your grief harms the precious flowers you create.

The onyx marble flooring beneath your bare feet is cold and unnatural. Closing your eyes for but a moment, you remember how blades of grass used to feel in the summer and spring. Those blissful days traversing fields without a care in the world feel like centuries ago. You’ve tried to recreate grass as it is on the surface, but with mixed results, and now stick with forming flowers instead. 

You take a mental inventory of the surrounding flora to check for problems. These creations of yours are a reliable pastime and bittersweet memory. No matter the life you instill into the delicate blooms, in the underworld, they wither away at an accelerated pace. Your days are spent reviving them or creating new bouquets to decorate this dreadful bedchamber. What else is there to do? 

Nothing, you answer the question yourself, scowling. As if on cue, your poppies wilt at the sharp turn in mood, petals falling onto the ground and crumbling to dust. So the cycle continues. Understanding the passage of time when there is no sun is difficult, but if you were to guess, those poppies were just a few hours old. While you consider what to replace them with, a pair of eyes watch from nearby.

“In my brief time down here, this would be my first time seeing such beautiful flowers.” A feminine voice praises. Your eyes widen, head whipping around to find the source of the words. In front of your canopy bed stands a wispy figure. It takes the faint form of a human being, though lacking color and partially transparent. 

It takes a second of tentative thought for you to realize what this apparition is. A soul. Not just any soul, a soul of a mortal, you presume. You haven’t spoken to a mortal in some time now. How did a soul manage to find its way to you, hidden away in the depths of the underworld’s palace? As if sensing your bewilderment, the soul speaks up.

“Is it true that I am speaking to the daughter of Demeter?” The soul questions. You nod, pushing down the agony of hearing your dearest mother’s name. “Then it seems I have hope after all.” 

Silence settles in after the soul’s relieved statement. You take the time to contemplate the possible meaning of this soul’s words, reaching no conclusions. “How is it that you’re here?” 

“... You will not call on his guards?” 

Biting your bottom lip, you swallow down the bile that threatens to rise in your throat at the passing mention of him. “I will do no such thing.” 

“Then lend me your ear for but a moment,” the soul’s voice is tinged with melancholy. “I am dead now, yes, but I was once alive. At that time I was Sotiria. I mothered three children, each splendid in their way, the lights of my life... I do not say this for complaining’s sake but to offer perspective. I never was given a decent lot in life, the child of a sickly widow whose face I can no longer remember. 

Poverty was all I knew until I drew my final breath. I took work equally as it came, whether it was working the fields or being a companion to men at night. Anything for the sake of feeding three hungry mouths. But it was never enough. My youngest, Cyril, fell ill. To keep him alive I had to be by side at all hours. And so it goes… at my wit’s end from starvation, I had no choice, you must understand.” 

Sortiria’s voice grows weaker, barely reaching your ears as she finishes her sentence. “I coveted, and I stole. Nothing more than I would need to keep my children alive for another day. When they caught me, well,” she motions to her phantom-like form with a pained smile. “I was killed.” 

Your heart aches at her plight. “How terrible...” 

“Yes, I’d agree so,” she doesn’t linger on the topic, eager to move to her final point. “But it need not end this way.” 

“There is a reason I stand in your presence now. I heard rumors, waiting among the listless souls for Charon to ferry us to judgment. Rumors that gave me hope where I had none. That the god of the underworld had taken a wife, a wife who boasts a compassionate heart. You, [First].” 

The pieces she’s presented you with fall into place. Your lips part, the world around you spinning, as Sotiria presents a final plea. “Please, go to him and ask that I may return to my body. That I may return to my children. Us humans have taken to praying to you for mercy when knocking on death’s door. I implore you, hear my prayer now.” 

“I will not speak to him, no, I refuse to speak to him. Even if I did as you asked, who is to say he will listen to me? My cries for freedom have been denied, how would this be any different? I hear your prayers but have no power to answer them. My matrimony did not make me the goddess of the dead.” 

Neither of you dares to mention Giorno by name, remaining cautious of what could happen, as he’s made aware every time his name is spoken. Even the mortals fear him, you think. And for good reason. You wonder if that’s how this was presented to the humans. A requited romance between the daughter of Demeter and Giorno, a union that gives hope to those dying. None of them know the truth, that you’re forced to remain here, tucked away from the wistful life you once had. That his self proclaimed adoration is nothing but suffocating and self-serving. 

“You and you alone are the apple of his eye,” Sotiria insists with utmost urgency. “He will heed your words more than anyone else’s.” 

“He has refused me everything of value that I have begged for.” The words are spat out with venom. You fail to notice that with your growing temper, the flowers you tended to prior shrivel up at unprecedented speed, a reflection of your distraught emotional state. Your chest heaves with each strained breath, fists clenching by your side until your nails pierce your skin. Does Sotiria not understand? How could anyone empathize with how the sorrow you feel? You stand in this saturnine chamber that remains your prison, Giorno the steadfast ward. 

“I can not speak on what I don’t know,” she lowers her head. “But I do know this. You have his favor. You are his wife -- whether it was by your design or not -- and he holds affection for you in his heart. Go, speak to him, I beg of you. If not for my sake, then for my children.” 

“But--” 

“I can’t spend any more time here,” Sortiria looks around, her already faint form disappearing. “Please.” 

Then she is gone. 

You stare, eyes wide as a doe, at the spot Sortiria once occupied in your dim room. Nothing of her remains but the convicting call for action. Her words ring like funeral tolls in your mind, unrelenting, and weighing down on you. There’s no denying the effect her request has on you. Sortiria’s dedication to her children reminds you of your mother, who has tried everything to get you back. An ache in your chest pushes you forward, your legs moving subconsciously to the door. 

She risked eternal damnation to speak with you. Leaving your room that never remains locked, you’re met with a similar color palette of midnight black and crimson red bricks. Hell flame is blinding at first, but when your eyes adjust, you catch the demonic guards stationed at your door looking in surprise. Giorno has granted you the freedom to traverse his palace as you please, but you rarely take him up on the offer, preferring to spite him by remaining in your room. When he searches for your company he knows where to find you. Loneliness haunts Giorno Giovanna like a plague, never warded off successfully until he acquired you. 

No one dares question your intentions, averting their gaze to avoid eye contact as you travel down twisting halls. Your heart pounds against your ribcage through the journey, not knowing how Giorno will react to your uninvited appearance. This would be the first time you’ve sought him out of your violation. While wandering his palace, you can’t help but notice the difference in decorum compared to your room. He had tried to make adjustments to your personal space so that it would reflect a different aesthetic than the underground, fully aware of your displeasure with the gloomy architecture. 

Not that it matters, you think. Nothing could make up for what Giorno’s taken from you aside from permanently returning to the surface. Rounding a sharp turn, you hold your breath at the sight. Cerberus towers in this grand hall and immediately picks up on your presence. The daunting creature lowers itself to the ground, three pairs of eyes piercing through you. A tense moment later, it seems content to let you pass, recognizing your position as Giorno’s beloved. 

Behind Cerebrus is where your true challenge lies. Two monumentally sized doors that lead to Giorno’s throne room stand in your way. Taking a deep breath, you close your eyes, Sortiria’s words reverberating in your mind. Perhaps you are soft on the mortals, as your mother once warned you, but she was guilty of the same. Should you be successful, and Sortiria lives to tell the tale, you wonder if your mother will visit her and ask after you. 

The doors open when you take a step forward. This palace is an extension of Giorno, you’ve come to realize, bending to your whims to please you. While lacking the necessary preparation to make a sound argument, you have an idea of what may convince Giorno to do as you bid. Any confidence you may have had from knowing you have his favor melts like ice in the spring when his eyes land on you. These eyes, that belong to one of the universe’s most powerful gods, feel heavy and cumbersome. Giorno nods his head in acknowledgment, a good sign. You wish you could hear his thoughts. His sculpted face is impossible to read as ever, in comparison, you feel like an open book. 

You manage to force out a cordial greeting despite your petrified state. “I was hoping to have an audience if you’re not otherwise occupied.” 

Giorno sits on his sizeable throne, presence imposing yet regal. In contrast to his spun gold hair, the throne is dark as twilight, embedded with rubies and numerous precious gems. He isn’t just the god of the dead, you remind yourself, but also the god of wealth. That’s all Giorno has ever felt like to you, some distant figure. Nothing more, not now or ever. His attempts to kindle an intimate relationship with you have been discarded like weeds. Now in his physical presence, reverence takes place of the disgust you normally feel towards him. 

“If it pleases you.” Giorno’s voice is undeniably soothing, every syllable ringing clear as a bell. At his confirmation, you tread forward, over an expansive vermillion carpet. The walk feels like an eternal punishment. He takes the time to scrutinize your body language. You didn’t expect anything different, fully aware that he’d be taken aback by this bold arrival. Doubts in your head cry louder as you lessen the distance. That after all this time, he might see fit to punish you for this final act of entering his throne room without an invitation. Interfering with Giorno’s work might be the final insult he tolerates. You are his wife, but what respite has that granted you before? 

You bow your head down as a show of respect. “I apologize for arriving unannounced.” 

“Your presence is a welcome one,” Giorno seamlessly dismisses your concern. “Though, I might add, unexpected.” 

Despite your best efforts, your posture goes rigid, likely playing into what Giorno designed. Your husband is as pleasant as he is efficient in his conversations, you’ve learned. It’d be a fool’s wish to think otherwise. Sortiria’s words, though you wish they didn’t, held truth. All have come to know Giorno’s affection for you through his special treatment. It’s a blessing and a curse.

“I would’ve come sooner, but I feared you were busy.” 

Giorno gazes up at your through golden eyelashes, voice lowering as he speaks from the heart. “I will always make time for you.” 

Is it wise to start with your true request? The clock’s ticking and you need to decide without further delay. Anxiety and regret battle for dominance in your mind, but you keep it at bay, recalling the true priority. A mother’s tender love for her offspring. There’s nothing more important to you than doing right by this tormented soul. Sortiria’s words resurface, “Us humans have taken to praying to you for mercy when knocking on death’s door”, she had told you. You were but a minor goddess until this point, and content as you were with that, there was nothing of astonishing value for you to offer the world. Creating and maintaining gardens was all you could do. Now, you have a real chance to do good, to reunite a family. The prayers offered up to you until give strength.

“Would you please stand?” You ask with a sheepish smile. It’s a simple request to test the waters and also a way to feel less intimidated. Giorno blinks but voices no complaints. From his throne, he stands, still towering over you but feeling less intimidating. You step forward, raising your hand and placing it to his cheek. His skin is cold and smooth to the touch. It reminds you of the flower petals you adore so much. There’s no denying Giorno’s beauty, you must confess, it’s almost like his face is perfectly sculpted art. You can tell he doesn’t know what to do with himself.

“Truth be told, there’s something that troubles me deeply,” you confess, to which he frowns. “That’s what I wanted to speak about.” 

Giorno prompts you to continue. “And that is?” 

The worst he can do to me is say no, you tell yourself. He’s had no difficulty doing that in the past when you’ve begged for freedom. No harm would come to you -- any spite Giorno might feel would be directed elsewhere -- but that doesn’t bring comfort. Sortiria would be punished if Giorno believed she was taking advantage of you. Sentenced to eternity in Tartarus. 

“A single request. I wish to reunite a soul with her body, so that she may continue her life that was cut short,” you rub your thumb over his cheek. “Please do me this one good.” 

“Sortiria, was it?” Giorno takes your stunned silence as confirmation, not that he needed any. The two of you were careful not to mention him by name. So he knew all along? It shouldn’t come as a surprise, but you still feel disheartened, blood draining from your face. 

“It’s a rare occurrence that I permit a soul to leave the underworld,” he explains what you already know in a calm tone. “[First], you know I hate to deny you anything, but--” 

“I wasn’t done.” You interrupt without thinking, overwhelmed by enough emotion to drown out logic. Giorno’s mannerisms and subtleties can be picked up on after all this time you’ve spent with him, and you know he was going to politely reject your request. Neither of you utters a word. It’s a split-second decision, but you set your qualms aside, considering the greater implications. 

“Giorno,” you call him by his name for the first time, his eyes widening at the slight nuance. “If… if you do this for me, I… I will allow you to finally consummate our marriage.” 

Your face feels like it’s on fire from the lascivious suggestion. There’s nothing else you can offer Giorno that’s valuable enough to convince him. Nothing other than yourself that is -- which you’ve vehemently refused him up until now -- swearing you’d sooner cast yourself into Phlegethon than let him lay with you. You hear your heart pounding in your ears as you await his final response. Giorno’s eyelids flutter shut, eyebrows scrunching together. 

“This means that much to you?” He asks, not entirely convinced himself. This fiery passion you’re portraying is new. Days of passively tending to your flowers gave him a different impression of you. Now, faced with a cause you truly believe in, you’re willing to do anything. 

“It does,” you confirm without further hesitation. “Please give me this single happiness.” 

You don’t dare breathe until Giorno speaks again. He reopens his eyes and appears deep in thought. Dread clouds your mind, dominating any thoughts that might bring you comfort. You’ve done the best you could. 

“Very well.” Giorno bends to your whims after a long moment’s deliberation. Joy blossoms in your chest, a genuine smile gracing your features. He places his hand over yours, shivers running down your spine from the cool sensation. The negotiations are far from over, as Giorno returns his attention to your prior claim. He wants to test your conviction and see if you’ll give him a piece of what he’s ached for.

He squeezes your hand gently, voice so quiet that only you could hear it. “Is what you said true?”

It’s the only viable option, is how you reaffirm yourself. A degrading option, you recognize, but no one aside from the two of you would ever know. It’s been a long and good fight that you’ve put up. Denying a god his desires is not an easy task by any stretch of the imagination. Goosebumps dot your skin, reality feeling so far away, as you seal your fate. 

“You have my word.”

Giorno smiles -- in a way you’ve never seen before -- an unidentifiable gleam in his omnipotent eyes.

“Then I will see it done.” 

[headcans-oneshots-and-stuff]

Reality check

Fandom: DC Pairing: Damian Wayne x reader Word count: 4.1k Summary: It was a normal day for you when the sidewalk literally opens up and swallows you whole only to spit you back out into a world that you thought only existed in comics before. There you meet a certain Vigilante and things get more complicated very, very quickly... Warning: I think this classifies as angst, not sure though, Definitly almost drowning tho, also multiple instances of unconciousness, lil bit of fluff if you squint, also me trying to be funny and failing Requested by the incredibly, amazing, breathtaking @dudeidkwhattoputformyusername: Hi! I love your work! is it possible for u to do a Damian Wayne x reader one shot, where reader comes from reality and bumps into Damian in Robin form. Then u can develop from there anyway u like! preferably fluff tho. thank u!!!!!!!!!!

Everything was blurry and your head was throbbing like someone was working on it with a jackhammer. The pain was the first thing that you felt during the process of waking up, no other sense quiet activated yet. Next was the realization that your body was shivering uncontrollably and wherever you were laying definitely wasn’t a bed for as far as you remembered, beds weren’t usually wet, cold and stone-hard. Following was your eyesight that finally returned to you, alongside with your smell and hearing, and as if they were high-school bullies who were teaming up against the local geek in a 90’s sitcom, they all came crashing up upon you like a train. Now theoretically seen, you were able to see, hear and smell again, but practically seen, asking you to do either of the three was like asking someone to find a needle in a needlestack, or a single straw of hay in a haystack. It was just too much, definite sensory overload. A few minutes you couldn’t do anything but lay there, shivering and cold and miserable, before slowly your brain started to work through all the input and sort through it until you were able to comprehend it. The first thing you noticed was the smell. It wasn’t a very pleasant one, it smelled like you fish, water and something rotten and if you had any more control over your body you probably would have thrown up. The sounds that you could hear now put the smells a little bit more into perspective. What sounded like screams and the end of the world before was now identifiable as the screeching of seagulls, the honking of boats and the soft crashing of waves. So you were near a harbor or port? The last puzzle piece was the view you got when you opened your eyes. The cold, wet, stone-hard ‘not-bed’ that you had been lying on was in fact a concrete jetty. Only a few feet away from you was the cold dark sea and above you was the night sky. How long have you been lying here? What happened? How did you get there? As you were staring up into the sky something about it made you uneasy, the way the stars were shining, the darkness of the universe, the fullness of the moon- Wait, wasn’t it a new moon just a few days ago? You sat up suddenly, immediately regretting it when the pain shook through your head again, re-starting the throbbin at 100%, and - after you could open your eyes again - looked down at your body. You were wearing a soaked through sweater that you had bought a few days prior and just as soaked through jeans and socks, your shoes nowhere in sight. The sea was restless and splashed against the sides of the jetty, dops landing on your sleeves and face. For some reason, the sensation of the liquid against your skin brought forth a flashback that completely blinded you. It was like you were watching from above as you relieved the last thing you remembered, how you had been going home after your part-time job at the library when the floor had literally peeled open below you and you fell into a cold nothingless, only for water to come crashing down at you from all sides. When you finally realized that you were not on the sidewalk a few blocks away from your home anymore, but in raging water, somewhere below the surface you were already only seconds away from drowning. With all the power you could muster and adrenaline rushing through your veins you managed to fight your way upwards and upwards until your hand finally broke through the water’s surface. The breath that you took when you made it up completely must have been the best and somehow worst gulp of air you had ever taken in. The adrenaline was ebbing off and the exhaustion made its way through all your muscles, but when you saw the lights in the distance you managed to keep on going until you had managed to pull yourself up a concrete jetty where you finally blacked out. Your mind made its way back into your body and you grasped the situation, even though believing it still wasn’t the easiest task. I mean the earth quite literally swallowing you up? That doesn't sound reasonable. And yet, it was the thing you remembered so you would have to live with that truth until someone could prove you otherwise. More and more questions started to swirl through your mind - an unreasonable amount of them quite honestly - but you knew you had to take things one step at a time. Okay, what did you know? You were in an unknown location so there was no new there, but your former question of ‘how long have you been there’ was now answered. Given the state of your clothes and the fact that it was still deep, dark night you couldn’t have been unconscious for long. But that didn’t help you much - you were still sitting there freezing cold and soaked with no idea where you actually were. What would you do usually when you were lost? Phone, ah, right. You patted over your pockets and actually found it, only to be very unsurprised when it only gave you a black void to stare into. Sadly you didn’t have a bag of rice to put it into in the other pocket, instead only a set of keys that you didn’t recognize along with something that looked like a keychain in form of a piece of polished wood with the letters D and (Your first initial) with a plus in between engraved into it. “Great, I can open some doors now, too bad I don’t know which,” you spoke aloud to yourself, only for the worlds to come out stuttered thanks to your teeth that were shaking just as much as the rest of you. You stuffed the keys and the broken phone back into your pockets and managed to pull yourself up and stand, even though all your muscles were screaming in despair. The thing you really wanted to do was lie back down and fall asleep again, wait for the sun to rise and dry your clothes, but you knew that with the coldness and the water all around you, you’d probably be dead or at least deadly sick by morning, so you had to find shelter, warmth and - maybe most importantly - answers. With slow, little steps you walked down the jetty, towards the buildings that looked unoccupied at that time of day, with an unknown city stretching out behind it that promised life and warmth. For what felt like hours, but was probably just minutes, you managed to walk a few feet until you were a safe distance away from the water and near a bench that must have been put there for people who wanted to watch the water or have a break from work or similar things. It looked at you so invitingly, so comfortably, so perfect. Deep inside you knew that you should probably not sit down, even if you told yourself it would be just for a few minutes, but your exhaustion took over and you sunk down onto it, falling to the side and rolling as good as it was possible together into a little roll. You’d take a nap, just a quick one, only a few minutes, then you’d get up with new energy and find the warmth you were looking for. The longer you sat there the heavier your eyelids got until you couldn’t take it anymore and the darkness enveloped you into its safety again.

The next time you woke up, things weren’t so bad anymore, it wasn’t all that blurry and the throbbing had dialed down a bit, but your body was shaking worse than before. In fact, it was shaking so bad that your shoulder thumbed against the backrest of the bench before being pulled forward again and repeating the circle, the only weird thing was that it was just your shoulder. And there was this weird pressure around it. Wait! You weren’t shaking worse, someone else was shaking you as if they were trying to wake you up. You peeled your eyes completely opened and looked into white voids surrounded by black and like your eyes were the camera of a 2000’ kids-camera they slowly zoomed out and revealed the white voids to be the eye-parts of a mask sitting on the face of a masked (duh) boy who was wearing a very, very colorful and bright outfit. It seemed familiar and the gears in your head started turning. “Habibti, you’re okay,” the boy said in a relieved tone and while he helped you sit up you mustered him with a confused look. “That’s not my name, it’s Y/N.” The way his mask contorted gave off a sense of confusion that mirrored yours, just with a little bit more worry in it, but before he could say anything else you motioned to his outfit. “What is it with the outfit? It isn’t Halloween yet, is it?” “You don’t recognize me?” he asked you and the tone of voice he used almost made you feel sorry for him, but given that you had no idea what he was talking about you would probably be able to cope. “No, sorry…” you started before the gears finally fell into place and you recognized it, “Oh, wait, I think I do, you’re playing Batman’s sidekick right? I think it was Robin. That’s so cool, I myself was always more of a Marvel fan - you know with Black Widow and all that - but both are super valid so cool hobby dude. It looks pretty rad too.” Even with the mask you could see the complete bedazzlement in his face and you wondered if your weird world-swallowing-experience had magically changed the language you spoke from English to Mandarine. “What- What do you mean?” “You’re Cosplaying right? Dressing up as a Comic Character?” you tried to explain and you could feel a slight anger building up at how stupid he made you feel without even being able to see his eyes. “I’m not Cosplaying a comic character?” he said in a questioning manner. “Yes, you are. You’re wearing the outfit and everything, like the guy in the Comics who works with Batman. I think his name was Richard or something, but you should know better, you’re cosplaying him after all,” you tried to explain yet again, seriously questioning your sanity. Now he really didn’t need the mask to hide the fact that he was seriously triggered by what you had said - even though you weren’t quite sure why. Had Robin been cancelled over twitter while you were unconscious? “I think it’d be better if I bring you to safety and get you checked out,” he averted the topic of the conversation and started to position his hands like he wanted to pick you up, but you put a stop to it when you pressed him away. “Listen, I appreciate the help, but I’ll definitely not be going with a complete stranger in a comic costume, so if you could just give me your phone so that I can call my parents or my friends that’d be great.” For a few seconds he just sat there straight, as if unsure of the best course of action, before he sight and pulled a phone out, unlocking it and handing it to you. Your fingers hovered over the keyboard as you thought about who to call, thankful that your mum had made you learn her number by heart, but when you went to dial it your whole body stopped working, like there was a physical restriction keeping you from typing. Suddenly you realized it. You didn’t know the number - you knew you should, that you had been using it for years upon years and that you definitely should know it - and your eyes grew wide. You scavenged through your head searching for more numbers, but then you realized another thing. There were none. How was that possible? You didn’t even know the area code from where you lived. “I- I don’t- what?” you looked up at the boy with tearful eyes, the reality of the situation just too much for you. “It’s okay, I’m sure it will come back to you,” he tried to sooth you, but you were too frustrated and sad to be happy about soothing from some creepy geek. “Would you please finally tell me why you’re in costume?” you asked exasperated and moved further away from him. “I-” The answer of the boy was cut short when a ‘whooshing’ sound echoed around the area and a booming voice called out: “Robin”. The boy shot you another look before shouting back. “I’m here, I’ve-” he obviously wanted to add something, but he cut himself off this time and just looked at you. A man in a black, leather suit with a black cowl over his face that you noticed to be definitely inspired by Batman and very well done came rushing towards you. Again, you couldn’t see his eyes, but you recognized the same worried look that the boy already had. “Oh no, not another one,” you sighed and pushed your hair back, “Is there some kind of Comic Convention here? Or is this a weird sexual thing?” Now the man looked at the boy even more confused, and the boy just shrugged, but instead of answering you, he brought his hand up to where his ear was under the cowl and spoke to himself: “I’ve found Robin, he’s found her, we’re going to come back now.” If it had only been the first and last part of that sentence you would have made a joke about them being into LRPG or something, but the ‘her’ part scared you for some reason. You stood up and backed away, happy that the boy didn’t keep the grip on even though his eyes were following your every move. “This was fun and all, but I’m still soaked and really cold, and I had a nice swim earlier which I want to calm down from again, so I think I’ll just go back home now, call myself a cab or something,” you turned around, more than ready to strain your muscles yet again with running away, but it never got to that point, because a second later you were ripped up from the ground and sizzled through the air. It was so surprising that you didn’t even manage to scream before you found yourself with hard ground under your feet again. You looked up at what had pulled you through the skies and found the boys face yet again and - may it have been from the scare of everything finally becoming to much - the last thing you could say before you blacked out for the third time that night was: “That’s some on point cosplay dude.”

The soft sheets of your bed gave you a sense of relief as you woke up from that weird ass dream that you were having. You were unsure about why exactly your unconsciousness was making you see these things, but you made a mental note about checking the dream meaning of getting swallowed by the sidewalk later on. For now all you wanted was to go have some breakfast and call your mom to tell her about that dream. So you opened your eyes and threw the blanket back only to be surprised by the ceiling that was definitely not yours. There was a sound beside you and you looked over to see a boy about your age, black hair standing up from his head a little spiky and green eyes focused entirely on you. “Oh for fuck’s sake,” you cursed and moved as far away from the boy as possible, “Who are you?!” “What do you remember?” the boy asked you, completely ignoring your question. Your eyes flew to the door that was right behind him and you found that there was no way for you to get to it without having to overthrow the boy - but by the looks of him he’d knock you out easily. “I was on my way home from my job when the fucking ground opened up, swallowed me, thrw me back up into the ocean and then I met two werid ass cosplayers before I woke up here.” “You still think we’re cosplayers?” “We?” “Yes,” he just nodded with complete ease. “Well, I gotta admit that flying thing was pretty rad. What was that? Are you actors and you’re making a movie? Because if so then I’m sorry for bursting onto the shooting site.” “We’re not making a movie,” he stated, still completely chilled, even though there was something else lying under it. “What then? You telling me you’re actually Robin? Because if so I’m not the only one who needs to have her head checked out,” you scoffed and rolled your eyes, arms crossing in front of your chest. The boy just mirrored your look, completely stern and serious. “You’re not serious, are you?” you couldn’t help but let out an unbelieving chuckle. He kept silent and just observed you. “You fucking are, oh my gosh.” “How can I prove it to you?” he asked, still so incredibly serious that you felt like you were a clown walking in on a job interview. “Oh, I don’t know. Call Flash, Superman and the easter bunny over so we can have tea with the tooth fairy,” you answered ironically and made a ‘cray-cray’ gesture with your hand going in circles beside your temple, but instead of being offended by your comment, he just pulled out his phone - the same phone you had tried to use earlier you noted. “What are you doing?” you asked, but he just held his hand up to sush you and raised the phone to his ear. “Hello, it’s Damian Wayne,” he introduced himself to the other person -  and you noted that he was not a ‘Richard’ after all, “Yes, could you do me a favor? Could you come to the Manor real quick? Yes, yes I know, no it’s not an emergency. The suit would be great, yes. See you in a bit. You opened your mouth again when he hung up to ask who he called over, but he kept his hand up and motioned to you to wait, while he opened up the window, even though it was still cold out. A gust of wind filled the room and suddenly there was another boy standing besides the original boy - Damian as he had introduced himself - who was wearing a cape, a shirt with a logo that was definitely Supermans and ripped jeans. “H-How the fuck did he just? Was he here this whole time? What? How?” you stuttered and looked between Damian and the other boy who looked at you even more confused than you felt, but Damian waved him off and motioned for him to leave, which he promptly did. The new boy looked at Damian with question marks in his eyes, but he just waved him off. “You believe me now?” he asked, directed towards you and you had to admit it was pretty convincing. “But how? I’m in a comic?” “Y/N, this isn’t a comic, this is reality,” Damian told you with a soft voice, but your eyes just widened and you tried to move back even further. “How do you know my name?” “In your left pocket there is a set of keys and keychains. One of these keychains is a piece of wood with two letters engraved. A D and a (Your first initial), am I right?” Your heart stopped for a second and you patted the pocket where that exact thing was still lying. “H-How do you know my name?” “What do you remember about your life, about how you ended up in the water?” he avoided the question like a pro and you decided to play along, just in hope he’d answer your question sooner or later. “I was born the daughter of Y/Parents/N in Y/H/T. I grew up normally and went to school, nothing special, got a job on the side and when I went home yesterday the sidewalk started to open up like there was an earthquake and I was suddenly in the water, I told you about that part already.” “And you have never met me in your life?” he asked and sounded almost disappointed. “No, an hour ago I thought you didn’t exist outside of paper, the internet and movies,” you huffed and tried to figure out what his endgame was with this, when he pulled his phone out again and tapped on it for a bit before shoving it in your direction. “How do you explain this then?” You moved forwards with caution until you could see the screen and your breath stopped. It was a picture of you. Of Damian and you to be precise. The two of you were sitting on a bench, laughing and smiling and obviously happy, a cute dog on the ground between the two of you where something else drew your attention. In the photograph your left hand was intertwined with his right one. “W-What is this? Some sick kind of joke?” “You really don’t remember? Not at all?” he asked flabbergasted. “Remember what? What is going on here?” you almost shouted, the frustration becoming just a little bit too much, “Please just give me some explanation, please.” “You’re Y/N Y/L/N, you really are the daughter of Y/Parents/N, but you didn’t grow up in Y/H/T, you grew up here in Gotham. You went to Gotham academy, where the two of us met and...became friends. You found out about me being Robin and my father being Batman rather quickly too,” Damian explained and even though it didn’t match up even slightly with what you remembered, it felt weirdly accurate. You went to the bed again and sucked down onto it, before thinking back to the picture and raised an eyebrow at Damian. “Not that I say it’s true what you’re saying, but if we hypothetically say it was, then we weren’t just friends, right? We’re together?” “Yes.” “Okay,” a sigh escaped you and everything was feeling blurry, but you had to continue asking, wanting to know the truth, “Then how do you explain me ending up in the ocean?” “That’s where things get a bit harsher,” Damian sight too, but obviously for other reasons, “Yesterday evening you accompanied me to a party - a family thing - on a yacht and things were going great, but something went wrong. No one had an idea that the weather would shift like that, but a storm came and the yacht was thrown around and you - you were thrown off, I thought you died, I was devastated, but- uhm...well… You remembered that keychain? I gave it to you for our first year anniversary and it may or may not have a tracker in it, so that I could find you in a worst case scenario and if that wasn’t a worst case scenario then I don’t know what is.” For a few minutes silence filled the room as you worked through all of the new information, but the sad look on Damian’s face, the seriousness in his voice, the entire situation in itself? They made it hard to doubt what he was telling you. Your gaze was stuck on your fidgeting hands when you asked the one underlying question. “Why can’t I remember?” “I don’t know, I think you must have hit your head when you fell off and your mind mixed things up - mixed reality into something else and took a few actual things and made them fiction,” Damian gave you his half-assed, definitely not medically appropriate explanation, but you couldn’t blame him for that, you had no idea either. You pulled your legs up and hugged your knees close as you looked at him, really trying to see this supposed boyfriend of yours, but your mind just turned up blank. “What if I’ll never remember? What if that’s the way it’ll be from now on?” “I’m positive that things will turn out fine, we have friends who have the best medical experience you can get, we even have mind readers who could probably help you and if not, we’ll help you make new memories, I’ll help you and I’ll wait for the memories to come back just in case.” “That’s not fair on you though, Right now I’m not the girl you’re with, you shouldn’t have to go through this,” tears were now welling up at your eyes, even though you weren’t completely sure why your emotions were so strong. “I don’t care, I really don’t, because no matter what you remember or don’t, I love you and I really hope you’ll remember that you love me too…”

[aion-rsa]

Midnight Mass: It’s Time to Talk About That Monstrous Twist

https://ift.tt/39I2zkp

This article contains huge spoilers for Midnight Mass. So help me God if you read this without watching the series first…

The version of Midnight Mass that Netflix advertised still would have made for a compelling horror series. 

An isolated, insular island community? Great. A young, charismatic preacher suddenly coming to town to shake things up? Perfect. That preacher proving capable of performing minor miracles? Love it, no notes! 

Of course, as viewers who have watched at least four episodes of the seven-episode series now know, Midnight Mass has one extra supernatural twist in mind that elevates an already interesting story to true mind-blowing status. Critics were understandably asked to keep this aspect of the show a secret before it premiered. So please indulge me as I finally slay these embargo demons and get it off my chest.

Vampires. Vampires! V-A-M-P-I-R-E-S. VAMPIRES! VAMPIRES VAMPIRES VAMPIRES! Literally like Dracula. And Nosferatu. Anne Rice’s Lestat. Stephen King’s ‘Salem’s Lot. Vampires. VAMPIRES, BRO, VAMPIRES.

For creator Mike Flanagan, a filmmaker influenced by all manner of classic horror, bringing the fanged bloodsuckers to life was a long time coming.

“My favorite vampire movie is (Werner) Herzog’s Nosferatu,” Flanagan told Den of Geek and other outlets prior to the premiere of Midnight Mass. “That film is the vampire story as high art. I also adore From Dusk Till Dawn. I read Dracula young enough for it to really burrow in for me. And I read ‘Salem’s Lot early enough to color an enormous amount of work that I’ll do for the rest of my life.”

Midnight Mass’s depiction of the mythological undead beast and how it can neatly fit into Christian dogma is one of the most satisfying horror twists in years. Now that the truth is out, let’s discuss Midnight Mass and how it conflates vampires and biblical angels. 

Mistaking a Vampire for an Angel

The interesting thing about Midnight Mass is that it clearly takes place in a universe where the average person has no knowledge of what a vampire is. Even Sarah Gunning (Annabeth Gish), arguably the most well-read person on Crockett Island, has to do some research into “porphyria cutanea tarda” (a.k.a. the real life “vampire disease”). This is similar to The Walking Dead’s approach to zombies, in which the “z” word and George A. Romero’s name are never spoken. This strategy in Midnight Mass allows for a truly fascinating case of mistaken identity.

While viewers immediately know that the creature Monsignor John Pruitt (Hamish Linklater) encounters is a vampire, he believes it to be an angel. Given how studied Pruitt is in the Bible and Cathloic theology, it’s entirely understandable why he would think a tall, muscular, bald-headed beast with fangs and leathery wings is an angel. As it turns out, the angels of the Old Testament can be truly terrifying. 

Not all angels are soft-featured human-like creatures with fluffy white bird wings. Some, like Seraphim, Cherubim, and Thrones are designed to intimidate God’s enemies. In the New Testament’s Book of Luke, an angel visits Zechariah and immediately asks him to “be not afraid” because the angel can see the poor guy absolutely shaking in his boots upon his arrival. Angels being terrifying is even something of an Internet meme, with users contrasting the phrase “be not afraid” with images of truly monstrous beasts. 

Not only does Pruitt’s vampire have the vague appearance of an angel, it also apparently holds the secrets to eternal life as promised in the Bible. By merely drinking some of the “angel’s” blood, a good Christian can live forever just like God says. Does that blood-drinking sacrament sound familiar? It did to Mike Flanagan.

“In Bible school I used to say ‘if the wine turns into Jesus’s blood literally and we’re drinking it so that we can live forever … that seems like a short leap to vampiric myth.’”

Of course, drinking the angel’s fluids in the case of Midnight Mass also leads to some unwanted side effects like a thirst for blood and extreme sensitivity to sunlight. Thankfully, good ol’ Bev Keane always has a Bible quote ready to go for that. When read through the proper perspective, the Holy Bible may as well be the original vampire story. 

The Rules of Vampirism

“The thing that I love about the vampire as a cinematic tool is how malleable it is,” Flanagan says. “We all agree that there is no canon. There are no rules. In fact, part of the joy is seeing what rules people cherry pick as they approach a vampire story.”

All depictions of vampires are indeed quite different. Vampires can range from the classic Stoker-ian monster to Twilight’s nigh-invulnerable sparkle bois. Midnight Mass’s version of the vampire leans towards the classic, albeit with some tweaks. In terms of appearance, The Angel (as we will be calling Midnight Mass’s O.G. vampire for simplicity’s sake) has a more bestial look like Nosferatu rather than an aristocratic one like Count Dracula or Anne Rice’s creations. 

“We winked at (Nosferatu the Vampyr actor) Klaus Kinski a few times when we designed our guy,” Flanagan says.

Though the Angel resembles Nosferatu in appearance, its vulnerabilities owe more to Rice’s The Vampire Chronicles. Religious iconography does not appear to hurt the Angel nor its thralls. Traditional human weapons like bullets or blades also do no harm (at least not mortally). These vampires are, however, tremendously susceptible to both fire and sunlight. Exposure to the latter for even a few seconds is enough to kill the Angel and his many acolytes. 

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Like in Rice’s works as well, the path to creating a new vampire is quite simple. Step 1: Drink its blood. Step 2: Die. In Dracula and ‘Salem’s Lot, the method of vampire creation is merely being bit by one, zombie-style. Rice and Flanagan’s approach is quite a bit more intentional and interesting. It also opens the door for perhaps Midnight Mass’s most ingenious storytelling quirk: communion. John Pruitt is able to get nearly the entirety of Crockett Island to become a vampire by spiking the communion wine with his buddy’s blood. Then, all that remains is for them to poison themselves to death, Jonestown-style. 

The mass “resurrection” scene in which the congregation awakes as their new vampire selves also provides some insight to just how hard it is to contain the vampire’s overwhelming hunger. Riley Flynn was able to resist it when he turned because John Pruitt babysat him like a psychedelic mushroom guide. The plan for the rest of the congregation was to have their babysitters as well but that didn’t quite work out. Still, Riley’s dad Ed makes it clear to his wife Annie, that even if it’s hard to resist the call for blood, it’s not impossible. 

“When I saw them at the church, I thought it was something they really couldn’t help. Like something impossible not to do. But it isn’t, Annie,” he says.

Maybe if more vampires were like Ed Flynn, a whole island full of vampires wouldn’t be too bad of a thing in the first place. 

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How to Defeat a Vampire

While every vampire story presents its own unique take on the creature, the answer on how to defeat a vampire is usually the same: by doing it together.

“We poor humans only have so much that we can give,” Flanagan says. “We’re ill-equipped as individuals to make any kind of meaningful stand. The only way evil in the world can be brought down is through collective effort. That’s something Stoker understands inherently. It’s clearly something King understands.”

Alongside the aforementioned Bram Stoker and Stephen King, Flanagan presents a small team of humans at story’s end who will do what it takes to defeat evil, even if it means dying in the process. Erin Greene (Kate Siegel), Dr. Sarah Gunning, Sheriff Hassan (Rahul Kohli), Annie Flynn (Kristin Lehman), Warren Flynn (Igby Rigney), and Leeza Scarborough (Annarah Cymone) are the six residents of Crockett Island brave enough to try to take down the Angel. All but two (Warren and Leeza) die. They do succeed in eliminating the immediate threat on Crockett Island but it’s possible the Angel made it away to suck blood another day, damaged wings and all.

What’s interesting about Midnight Mass’s “final crew” is that six appears to be the magic number when it comes to taking down a vampire. Stoker’s Dracula has six heroes: Jonathan Harker, Mina Harker nèe Murray, Arthur Holmwood (Lord Godalming), John Seward, Quincey Morris, and Abraham Van Helsing (of which, only poor American cowboy Quincey Morris dies). King’s ‘Salem’s Lot also has six: Ben Mears, Matt Burke, Susan Norton, Mark Petrie, Jimmy Cody, and Father Callahan (of which, decidedly more than one of them die). This strange bit of arithmancy is something we asked Flanagan about.

“The number was certainly not intentional,” he says. “Once it was clear that Riley was not going to be carrying the torch to the end it really was about asking ‘who are the characters who seem in the very beginning to be at a disadvantage and how do we empower them in the end?’ This was gonna be played out by Sarah Gunning, Sheriff Hassan, and everyone else who would get to just give a little piece.”

Considering that Erin and company were outnumbered about 117 to six, it was a pretty good showing for Crockett Island’s last humans standing.

All seven episodes of Midnight Mass are available to stream on Netflix now.

The post Midnight Mass: It’s Time to Talk About That Monstrous Twist appeared first on Den of Geek.

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[ultrahpfan5blog]

Rewatching The Hunger Games series

So I saw The Hunger Games quadrilogy after roughly a year or so. Its a series that I genuinely enjoy for the most part. When the first movie came out, I had gone because the critical reception had been so positive that I got interested in the film. After the film, I bought and read all three books before Catching Fire came out. This series was the peak of the young adult book adaptation era and was definitely the highest quality of those, even though that isn’t saying much because majority of the adaptations were pretty poor.

When it comes to the movies, the first two especially are damn good. Gary Ross deserves more credit than he gets for the success of this series because he puts the essential pieces in place. He got critical casting choices right on the money with Jennifer Lawrence, Donald Sutherland, Woody Harrelson, Stanley Tucci, and Elizabeth Banks being the highlights. The shaky cam technique becomes a little much but it does lend to the gritty feeling of the movie. The film managed to strike the right balance of showing the morbidity of this world but also giving some excitement and entertainment by contrasting it with some truly bright and energetic visuals and characters, lending to the social commentary of the class differences in this world. 

Catching Fire was even better. Clearly, you could tell that the movie got a major upgrade. Francis Lawrence brought a much steadier and cleaner visual technique. I think the expansion of the world and the ensemble cast works in its favor The returning cast were all excellent but the new additions of Sam Claflin, Jena Malone, Jeffrey Wright, and Seymour Hoffman worked wonders. I liked that Lawrence aptly captured the horror of the arena. The poison fog sequence in particular is quite horrifying. The film is kinetic and much more fast paced. It gives a lot more texture to the things going in this world. 

The last two movies are inferior in comparison. Part of that has to do with the source material and part of that has to do with the decision to split the book into two. I do think Mockingjay is the weakest book of the three. Unfortunately Katniss becomes far too reactionary a character in the book. While that may be realistic as a teenager in a war scenario, it doesn’t make for very interesting reading when you are following her POV in the book and in the movie. Fundamentally I am ok with splitting a final book where its warranted. I feel it definitely worked in Harry Potter, but it doesn’t quite work here. In Mockingjay Part 1, you can feel the film trying to fill empty space. Also, with the film almost entirely set in underground bunkers, there isn’t much visual color as entertainment as well compared to the previous film. The film also just doesn’t have a climax that packs a punch. The cliffhanger is handled well but the climax leading to the cliffhanger is fairly dull and again, the main character is never in any real danger throughout the film. 

Part 2 is slightly better but its about as bleak a conclusion to a series that I have seen. It definitely has way more in terms of action. But there is almost no humor in the movie with Effie and Haymitch, the main sources of humor from Part 1, are largely absent. Again, the issues of the book kind of affect the movie as well. Katniss’ mission throughout the movie has no impact on the eventual outcome as she fails to actually accomplish her mission. So the whole mission of her and the team fighting their way into the Capitol feels a little pointless from a narrative standpoint. But it does have a lot more momentum than Part 1. Certainly, the mutt attack sequence is pretty terrifying and the film does earn its ending.

Similar to Harry Potter, one of this franchise’s biggest strengths is casting. I didn’t know much about Jennifer Lawrence prior to the first movie, so she pretty much blew me away and she continued to sustain that level of performance throughout. She’s obviously playing the character a little older than the book version but it really works and she carries the franchise effortlessly. The casting masterstroke of the franchise for me was Donald Sutherland. Reading the books, I honestly can’t think of a better casting decision for the role. He’s perfect as the brilliant snakelike devil of a man. He’s a scene stealer throughout. Woody Harrelson as Haymitch is fantastic. He brings a lot of humor to the table. He is really missed when his role gets reduced in the last couple of films. Elizabeth Banks as Effie is the one major upgrade from book to movie. By giving Effie a much more rounded and sympathetic character arc and having her being a part of the overall story in Mockingjay, the performance and the character shines a lot more. Banks is terrific. Adding heart and humor when required. Josh Hutcherson wasn’t exactly whom I thought when I think of Peeta but he grew into the role really well. I think he improved with every movie and he was pretty fantastic in Mockingjay Part 2. Liam Hemsworth was one who I felt was just ok. To be fair to him, he really doesn’t have to do much other than look good and then pine for Katniss. Sam Claflin and Jena Malone lit up the screen in Catching Fire. Its a pity they don’t get all that much to do in subsequent films though they do get a handful of good scenes there too. Hoffman as Plutarch was a good screen partner for Sutherland and later for Moore. Moore herself came in and delivered really well as President Coin. There was also a nice performance by Maharshala Ali as Boggs. Lenny Kravitz as Cinna was another welcome addition in the first two films. Overall, it was a good pack of actors who were really giving it their all that made the series work as well as it did.

[impaladolan]

Capture - Grayson Dolan [2/-]

summary: after an unsuccessful attempt to escape, Y/N is in for more than she bargained..

warnings: lil bit of smut, swearing, and bdsm undertones

a/n: this is part TWO of this little series! check out part one before reading this!

Your senses slowly began to settle back into you, and you finally realized just what kind of mess you were in..

Right after his bold exit, your exhaustion caught up to you and your eyes became as heavy a dumbbells. But when you awoke for the second time that evening, the situation truly hit you right in the noggin.

You were in a foreign place, that you were incredibly scared to even attempt an escape out of. The foggy memory of the stunning man that had entered the room, was becoming a false reality. Had you dreamt of him? Was he just a twisted piece of your imagination?

Surely not.

It seemed so utterly real that the nameless man had to be an actual human. And even that thought scared the absolute shit out of you. If he were to barge right through the same door, you wouldn't know how to even address him, let alone look at him. So you stayed hidden beneath the large comforter, softly shaking with fear as your eyes began to water. You were starting to miss things you never thought you could miss. Like the pumpkin-apple candle that you'd light from time to time, or your piano you love to play, to wake you up in the mornings and settle you down in the evenings. Hell, you were even beginning to miss your refrigerator that held all your favorite foods and drinks, and your spacious bathroom that you regularly took a soaking bubble bath in.

Oh god, a bathroom. Just at the mere thought, your bladder revolted and signaled it's everlasting need to be freed. But you were too scared. Though, you couldn't last much longer without accidentally pissing yourself, but that'd just make this dreadful day even worse. So with your fears in mind and the shaking of your body reminding you, you pushed back the covers and lifted yourself from the cushiony mattress, your toes curling at the frigid touch of the marble floors. You oddly looked left and right, in search of what could possibly be a hidden camera or worse— a person, but came short with nothing of the sort. You began your tip-toeing steps towards an open door that unmistakably led to the sacred toilet you were literally yearning for, and ever so softly shut the door, for at least a little privacy. It was an expensive looking bathroom with even more expensive looking appliances.

But without further examining you rush to the porcelain bowl and pull down your undergarment, quickly seating yourself and letting all the filtered tension go. A relieved sigh escaped your lips, but your asscheeks sure did feel sore.

Maybe it wasn't a dream..

You let your thoughts roam as you emptied your bladder and tore a piece of toilet paper from its roll and wiped, finishing with the click of the flushing button and directing yourself towards the sink. The women in the mirror caught your eye, though she looked oddly untouched. You thought you'd at least have a bruise or two fluttered across your arms or your face, but it appeared as though you were as good as new and unbothered. Whoever had kidnapped you didn't fully intend harm, but rather some other premeditated plan that you weren't truly sure of.

Though you felt somewhat at ease, your frightened thoughts lingered and you washed your hands quickly and tip-toed back to your aclaimed warm bed that you slightly missed the absence of. You could've gone for round three of sleeping that day, but yet again, to your dismay, the familiar sound of a door opening and closing kept your eyes open, and an unfamiliar scent glided into your nostrils and made your stomach growl profusely.

"Hungry, darling?" The same voice from your dreams questioned the air around you and just as before, you couldn't refrain from laying your eyes on him. He was undoubtably real, except this time he was fully clothed in a tucked white dress shirt and pants, a belt tightly wrapped around his waist. He was even dreamier than before with his hair all done up and his fingers clad with shiny rings that hadn't caught your eyes before. You drew your attention away and slowly nodded, bringing the large blanket up to shield yourself from his eyes. He set the platter down on the nightstand with what looked to be a sweet smile and grabbed a little portable table to set just above your thighs. He neatly settled the prepared food onto it and seated himself at the end of the bed, motioning his hand for you to begin.

You were hesitant to eat anything he could've made at first, but you were more scared of him becoming mad, so you gladly picked up your spoon and began to chew on the nice noodle soup, it's brothy flavor feeling nice on your throat. You almost whimpered at the taste when you finished your very first bite, your eyelids shutting and your head titled back in sensation. "Good?" His deep, softened voice brought you back to reality and your head was nodding before you could detest anything of it. "For how mouthy you were this morning, you sure haven't said much at all." His words struck true as you thought back to the prior events, his seething words and your snooty comments that arises the anger in him.

"Well, I'm sorry to inform you, but you had caught me in a moment of weakness and I will forever regret it. I was taken against my own free will, without the ability to even fight for my freedom, and you think it's fair to treat me like a whore who "deserves to be punished" and was in quite a drowsy state of mind. You're a sick bastard whether you've been told that or not." You seemingly growled at him, but he didn't seem to be angered, let alone offended. With all the stillness and subtleness in the world, he answered;

"Yes, it may have been a moment of weakness, Ms.

Y/L/N, but when was the last time that that pretty pussy of yours was touched, hm? How long has it been since you've came by someone else's hand, or cock perhaps? Darling, I may be a stranger to you, but you're no stranger to me." And with that, he left you stunned (and regrettably horny), all alone in the same room you've been trapped in for who knows how long? Ugh, it was so angering the way he could flip what you say into something far from being similar to anything you were trying to argue.

But he was right..

Yes, it's been a rough couple years in the dating life for you. Though, it never had to do with "supply of men" because here and there, you'd get a little flustered by a handsome man wondering if you'd like to get coffee sometime. But you'd always sweetly decline and carry on with your day. You were a focused, driven person that had their mind set on nothing else but your arising business endeavors. You simply didn't want to begin a relationship because you weren't fully ready to give so much attention to one thing while you were too focused on another.

And being honest, men are very clingy. And mysterious..

His final little statement about "You're no stranger to me" really confused you. Had you met him before? Was he from your hometown? It was truly a mystery. Who's to say he wasn't some sort of stalker whose been following you for the past five years? But that sounds absurd. Why would such a handsome, dreamy, sexy— a'hem, man want to have anything to do with you? Whatever it is, you weren't exactly mad about it. Because just like earlier, when you were hazy and half asleep, you felt the same tingling and flutters right down to your core. He was so smooth with his words, it's hard not to fall to your knees and become his beckon call. Fuck, anytime you laid eyes on him, your body begins to writhe with shudders, creating that pooling sensation where your core throbbed the worst. A large part of you couldn’t wait to see him tomorrow, throw some sly comments at him or even try escaping, anything to catch his attention.

So before drifting asleep, your mind raced with loose plans and tactics for tomorrow, when you’d awake in the same room for presumably the third or fourth time.

-

Go time.

Initially, you had planned to sneak out only to anger him, but now that you were thinking about it, why not at least try to escape the clutches of the room and run away, hopefully home if you could.

You were missing it so much already, though you’ve only been gone for approximately thirty-two hours (maybe). But you were becoming bored with the view of absolutely nothing except gray walls and the one large painting on the wall. It looked like a countryside, a barn with a red roof-top and white siding while trees decorated the entire area around it. It was an odd picture to be put in this room, it didn’t really match the minimalist vibe the entire rest of the proximity put off. But anyway, it felt weird getting out of bed and twisting the handle on the door, and to your satisfaction, it opened with a faint click and you were finally able to be freed of this room.

The even more so frigid air smacked you straight between the eyes the moment you fully opened the door, it made your eyes water slightly. Taking the very first step out of the room, you notice that the walls in the long hallway are a powder color, which brought a weird grin to your face.

Those gray walls just weren’t doing the trick.

You slowly begin to tip-toe to the right of the entryway, looking in every direction possible. You didn’t really know if he lives alone or with others, but you were banking on the possibilities that there were others in the nice, freezing home.

Why the fuck does he keep it so cold?

You continued your slow, padding steps until you came across another door-less room; the kitchen. Thankfully there was no one in the huge kitchen, and your stomach jolted to the smell of just another soup, you just couldn’t recognize it. You almost scavengered for a spoon, but the faint sound of shallow footsteps corrupted your hearing and you b-lined straight to a cabinet, that happened to be a pantry once you were enclosed inside. Before entering, the pairs of footsteps let out a few hoarse chuckles and cackles, ultimately placing them as men. From what you could see in the tiny, barely visible crack, you could for sure make out who was standing directly left to the cabinet you were stuck in; the panty-dropping hottie from earlier.

You were just praying to God that he wouldn’t find you.

You took every breath as carefully and slowly as possible, not moving a muscle as the two men conversed, though it was muffled and incomprehensible. After what seemed like hours, you swore you heard a few goodbyes and a loud door shut. You wanted to sprint out of the damn tight-knit cabinet and run for your dear life, but you slowly opened the door and breathed in a large breath once you were finally free of your slight claustrophobic fears.

“Better run, sweetheart.” His deep, distasteful voice scared the wits out of you, which made your instincts ignite the moment he took a step closer to you. Before you knew it, your feet were pacing back and forth in long strides as your arms pumped up and down, though your blanked mind came to a loss on the directions out of the house.

This was it.

There was no way you’d make it out of here. He was obviously much faster and actually knew the layout of his own house, while you, on the other hand, had no damn clue where the front door is. So your heart sank deep in your chest when you felt his warm, muscular arms wrap around the entirety of your waist before you hand could even grasp an unknown handle that you were violently reaching for.

“Think you’re fucking smart, princess?” He whispers in your ear, carrying you away, presumably to your prior settings while you helplessly let him. You didn’t even thrash against him, or even attempt a kick to his groin.

You just.. let him.

“Fuckin’ lucky I don’t tie you up and spank your ass until it’s numb again.” He murmurs to himself, dropping you off on the same bed you’ve been sleeping and awakening in whilst he shuts and locks the door too. Just his little comment to himself made your mouth water and your pussy clench. It was hard enough being in such a close proximity with him.

Once testing the door to see if it was locked properly, he turned back to look at you with a cold, lustful stare that had you aching all over yet again. For someone that you don’t even know their formal name, you sure did have the ‘hots’ for him. In a flash, his shirt was off and his pants were unbuckled, the heat arising in your cheeks as he strode over to you in his nakedness. “Knees. Now.” He points to the floor below him, watching with demanding eyes. You, of course, reacted before thinking. You were on your knees in seconds and had your hands wrapped around his increasingly large girth. You really hadn’t looked at it before, you were honestly terrified to. But now that it was right in front of you and your fist was slowly pumping it, you craved it.

“Since you haven’t been very nice to Daddy, you’re gonna have to give him a little sweet treat..” He caressed the top of your head, looking down upon the sight of you stroking him made his cock jump slightly. With your own eyes in him, you ran your tongue along the protruding, red vein of his cock, suctioning off his tip like it was a straw. He threw his head back with a pleasured sigh as your warm and thick muscle made his erection grow. With a few internal encouragements in your head, you let your mouth intake more, slowly edging its way to his public bone. What you hardly couldn’t fit, you let your fingers glide over. His sharp intakes of breaths and groans had your own self a mess, and you almost wanted to creep your own two ‘flimsy’ fingers down there and relieve it.

You let your hands travel to his constricting balls, fondling them with the slightest of touches. He squinted his eyes and held himself back from coming right then, but it was too late. For his thick, hot ribbons of cum released all the way down your throat and to your chin.

He didn’t last long..

It unusually tasted sweet, compared to others who seemed to be sour and gummy. Though he was done and physically drained, you continued slow motions, only quickening them by the second. Overstimulating has and will always be one of your favorite kinks. To see someone shaking and aching from their own sensitivity made you all the more horny and sexually-frustrated. But the overstrung man put an end to the real quick, pulling you to your feet and shoving you back onto the cushiony bed where your comfy gown rose and his intense stare darkened.

“Don’t you make one fucking sound..”

(masterlist)

[dammitlogan]

Babe | Kageyama Tobio x Reader

wc: 2k

Another day, another game. That was your motto at this point of the volleyball season. Days seemed to be a never-ending loop of volleyball, be it practice or a game. Not that you minded; you loved it actually. Even though you were only a manager for the Karasuno boys’ volleyball team, you looked forward to each day. Even on days like this: the days you arrive at the school at six in the morning on a Saturday to catch the bus to a tournament.

It was rough, but it was definitely worth it.

Yawning, you lean into Hinata’s side as you wait for the rest of the team to file into the bus. He blinks tiredly and chuckles. “Do I make a good pillow, (Y/N)?” He teases through a yawn. You only hum in contentment, closing your eyes for a moment.

”Oi! You gonna take a nap in the parking lot or get on the bus, dumbasses,” Kageyama complains. You frown, peeking at him through one eye. He impatiently waits at the door of the bus, usual scowl in place. Groaning, you pull yourself off Hinata and stumble toward the bus.

”It’s too early for yelling, grumpy pants,” you mumble as you pass him to enter the bus, playfully pushing his shoulder. He grunts, and you are well aware he rolled his eyes before following after you. Plopping yourself in the only empty set of seats, Kageyama and Hinata pile in next to you. Kageyama’s shoulder presses into yours and he stiffens immediately. You can’t help but giggle at his obvious discomfort.

”Do you wanna switch seats with me, Kageyama?”

He stares at you for a moment with an unreadable expression. He looks oddly embarrassed. You’re too tired to even try to read into the hidden meanings of minuscule pieces in his expression, so his glare is all that is evident to you. However, you also barely notice a tinge of pink coloring his ears.

”No.”

”Are ya sureeeee?”

”Yes.”

”Are ya sure you’re sure?”

”Shut up already.”

”Fine,” you huff, leaning into his shoulder. “I’m gonna be using you as a pillow then. I don’t want to bump my head on the window.”

You shuffle into a more comfortable position, finding it the most comfortable borderline curled into Kageyama’s side. Closing your eyes, you expect a quick retort: a refusal of some sort or an insult. He would try to fight you regardless of knowing he would never win. However, he is quiet for a moment. You wait in the stiff silence, feeling his tensing shoulders beneath your cheek. You’re about to question his peculiar behavior, but you are stopped before you have the chance.

”Whatever.” He is clear the discussion is over.

As you doze off, he prays that you aren’t close enough to hear his racing heart.

*~*~*

Stretching your hands over your head, you blink in your surroundings. It felt good to stretch after being on a stuffy bus for so long. As everyone marches into the gymnasium with their stuff, you teasingly nudge Kageyama with your elbow.

“You’re a good pillow, you know that?”

He glares down at you for a moment, unable to think of a proper retort. Quickly, he looks away, as if he never saw you. You stare for a moment, confused by his lack of comebacks today. You hardly notice his, once again, pink ears. You fight off your own blush as you notice for the hundredth time that week just how pretty he is.

Shrugging off his weird mood and pounding heart, you look around the building you have entered instead. It was pretty big, larger than the Karasuno gymnasium even. The amount of teams and spectators already filing in only make it seem larger.

Behind you, Hinata watches at the interaction curiously, noticing the blushing and awkward composure. Though he wants to shrug it off, something urges him to get a second opinion. Grabbing Tanaka by his jacket sleeve, he motions for the upperclassman to come closer. Once they were a safe distance from the group, Hinata quickly glances around as if Kageyama would appear suddenly. Squinting thoughtfully, he lifts a hand to shield his mouth. “I think Kageyama has a crush,” he whispers carefully, gesturing to you and said boy with a nod of his head.

Tanaka grins wickedly. “Oh?”

They watch for a moment as you walk in a comfortable silence next to Kageyama. Slowly, moving almost robotically, he steals a glance at you before ripping his gaze elsewhere. The pink coloring of his ears only darkens. Hinata and Tanaka give each other a knowing look, giggling like two school girls. Suddenly, Tanaka becomes alarmingly serious. His stony face becomes similar to that of a soldier.

“You know what this means.”

”Huh?”

”We have to do something!”

Hinata nods excitedly, saluting to his “lieutenant”. Scheming, the players place their bags along the wall of the gymnasium. They, very conspicuously, observe you and Kageyama and question whether you like him or not. Most signs point to yes, but they couldn’t wrap their head as to why.

In the midst of their theorizing, Oikawa arrogantly approaches Kageyama. They seem to start arguing, which isn’t that surprising. Awkwardly, you slowly shift away from the pair. You attempt to look unbothered, but you were sure it was obvious you weren’t sure what to do. Soon enough, you wander to a spot by Hinata and Tanaka. You begin to strike conversation, but they ignore you for the sake of watching Kageyama.

”Ah, man. Looks like Kageyama is in trouble,” Tanaka mutters. You quirk a brow at him.

”I think he’ll be fine,” you laugh. He shakes his head firmly, closing his eyes and clenching his fist dramatically. Oikawa laughs and Kageyama’s cheeks flush.

“No. We have lost a soldier.”

”Kageyama will survive.”

”But if he gets all annoyed, he’ll be too distracted to play his best!” Hinata argues. You honestly doubt Kageyama would allow his feelings to get in the way of a match. Watching the scene, you had to admit you felt bad abandoning him. He angrily yells at his prior teacher.

”He’ll be fine,” you attempt to convince yourself. Though you tried to hold the uncertainty in your tone, enough slipped out to inform the boys that you were genuinely worried.

”I think you should go save him, (Y/N).” Hinata suggests. Tanaka nods in approval, firmly shoving you into their direction. You turn back to them, attempting to stay put as they fight against you.

”Why can’t you? Just say you need him for something if it bothers you that much!”

”Noooo, we can’t do that. We- uh... We gotta go get something off the bus actually, right, Hinata?”

”Yup! You should pretend to be his girlfriend! Then Oikawa will leave him alone.”

Your attempts to protest were silenced with a final shove and you stumbled forward. You glare over your shoulder at your motivators, who shiver in response but give you a thumbs up nonetheless. You quietly clear your throat and straighten your posture before approaching. Slinging an arm around Kageyama’s waist, you smile brightly at Oikawa. His teasing expression quickly shifts into one of surprise.

”Hi! I’m (Y/N). Nice to meet you,” you greet with the friendliest air you can manage. He blinks at your sudden appearance, before introducing himself back just as energetically. Turning to Kageyama, you mentally brace yourself. Hopefully, he’d be able to play along and not hate you afterwards. Quickly, press a gentle kiss to his cheek. A fiery red creeps up Kageyama’s neck and cheeks immediately. Oikawa tries to suppress a laugh. Gently, you grasp both his hands in yours. “Could you help me with something, babe?”

“B- Ba- You- Wh- Bab- B-,” he stumbles clumsily over his words as you pull him away and into the hallway outside of the gym. The second the doors close, you deflate entirely. Blood rushes to your face, and you allow yourself to fall to your knees tiredly. You can hear your heartbeat pulsating in your ears. Shoving your burning face into your hands, you cry out an apology.

“Oh my God! I’m sorry! I’m so sorry. Oh my God, I can’t believe I did that. I’m sorry! I’m so sorry-“

”Babe?”

Removing your face from your hands, you stare up at Kageyama. His face seems even darker than before as he stares blankly down the hall. One hand gently cups the cheek you kissed.

”What?” You breathe squeakily.

Slowly, his gaze lowers to your sunken form. He mumbles something before coughing awkwardly. For some reason, the way he looks at you makes your heart skip a beat. His hand falls delicately from his cheek to hover over his chest, as if to calm his heart. “Did you- did you call me..,” he pauses as if he were a child about to swear, “babe?”

You stare at him blankly. Was this all just now processing for him? This moment alone had lasted far too long for you; at least several years. Why is that the only thing he’s questioning? In your opinion, there were plenty of questionable things you had achieved in the past two minutes. Cupping your cheeks in your hands, you groan at the ground before looking back up at him. Looking him in his infuriatingly gorgeous eyes only burned your face more.

”Yes. Yes, I did,” you mumble. Slowly, he sits down in front of you. He stares at you, obviously in deep thought. His eyebrows furrow, but not in his usual scowl. Your heart feels like it’s going to beat out of your chest as his eyes burn into you. You aren’t sure what to expect. Maybe a bit of yelling, being called an idiot (but with a look in his eyes that tell you that’s not what he really thinks), or getting hit over the head with a surprising gentleness... Like he has for all your previous stupid choices.

”....Why?” He finishes lamely. You can only look at him for a moment. What were you supposed to tell him? Hell, you weren’t even sure why you took the specific route you did. You easily could have pulled him away by telling him Hinata needed him or something. You open and close your mouth like a fish, desperately trying to grasp onto a hook that is a proper answer.

Then, it all pours out of your mouth in the form of word vomit. You tell him every single detail to the point it was unnecessary in one long exhale. Taking a breath, you once again hide your face. “So, yeah. It was their idea.”

”Oh...” He sounds almost disappointed with your answer. You hear him shuffle around as he rises from the floor, but refuse to look at him. This was all simply embarrassing. All you can do now is question why you were so awkward at all points in time.

Gently, a finger pokes your head once. When you don’t move, he pokes even softer a second time. When you finally look at him, he refuses to look you in the eye, but offers a hand to help you up. Gingerly, you take his hand. You try to distract yourself from how perfectly your palm fit into his.

He doesn’t let go of your hand when he reaches to open the gym doors before pausing. His fingers hover around the handle, shaking ever so slightly with poorly hidden anxiousness. Allowing his silky, raven hair to cover his face, he refuses to turn to you. He clears his throat to take away the growing silence, but also by himself a moment. “You don’t need to be sorry,” he says in such a quiet tone, you can just barely hear. Confused, you’re about to question him, but you’re stopped before you have the chance.

“I... I don’t mind it if you- If you call me... babe.”

Color blossoms across your face once more at his words. You are stricken into a wide-eyed silence. You couldn’t formulate a proper response. Temporarily paralyzed, you allow him to pull you into the gym. A love-struck grin gradually pulls its way onto your face.

His ears were red.

[alphasmoonlit-selfships]

🍃 🐚 ⭐️

Hello mystery anon! Thank you so much for the ask! I forgot as I was writing that that were asks meant to be answered by me for my F/o, but considering my recent f/o takeover by my dearest Atsushi, he answered a few of the asks too! UwU;

"It is a shared blog between us, Darling," Atsushi commented lightly, resting his chin a top the petite brunette, "I'm sure they won't mind at all!" 🥰

"Well let's just jump right into it, shall we?"

🍃:  Do you live together? If not, would you like to? How would you or how do you decorate?

Atsushi: We do live together actually! You can know more about that here in this ask!

Though the second question is new to answer; it was a slow and gradual process to decorate our place after it was entirely cleaned and ready to inhabit. We started with basic things we could afford, the Agency definitely helping us to get a few other things to fill in the space and make it feel more homey. Which we were grateful towards nonetheless!

Even so, I think the decorator between us is Dany, she usually suggests colors and what might fit well with the setting of a certain room in our condo. As well as how the layout should be. Of course, I pitch in my own suggestions that she usually considers and takes full validation of 😄 it definitely helps her figure things out as she often hits a dead end and is left a bit irked when she runs out of ideas 👀

We often buy things at random that might make the condo more homey, be it buying some items for the living room or dining, some plants to make the place more lively, either inside or on the balcony space, or paintings and frames. Which might I add, we have hung some pieces we worked on together!

It was some quality time building when we painted and made a messy, yet nice piece done! I may not be much of an artist, but Dany does know how to boost someone’s confidence when it comes to the subject U///w///U she is very sweet, comforting and patient.

But yeah! We are a bit of a mix of traditional, minimalist, and modern through the home!

🐚:  Which one of you brings the most physical or emotional energy to the relationship? Are there ever times where it’s overwhelming to the other, or are you pretty evenly matched?

Atsushi: I think Dany and I have shared a decent amount of offering each other that physical and emotional and mental energy to our relationship. It varies a lot with what we experience individually, but overall it is evenly match. We have a deep understanding of one another and share a few similarities when it comes to how we think and want to act on our emotions and affections.

I think Dany gives more of the physical energy as she isn’t one to always put things into words as it sounds in her mind. Her affection is warm, sweet, comforting, it’s soothing and brings out any tension I feel personally after a bad day. She often sings and hums to offer a bit of vocal response, or asks questions for me that give me the door to open if I want to talk about something. She doesn't press instantly and allows space for me to figure out what I would like to say.

I do worry that sometimes I may be a bit overwhelming for her; she is rather emphatic and has the tendency to take other’s emotions that often do drain her later on. It..often leads her to be apathetic when she feels her own bad days.

Which leads to the opposite of me, she is more withdrawn from speaking about her struggles and worries. Always giving a lot of herself to me or others that she forgets about herself. That’s where I have slowly began to draw her out of that mindset, I can understand where she comes from in that regard and offer what she usually craves the most; To be listened without being interrupted or bringing up an assumption she hasn’t stated. She use to apologize,,, frequently for how she just kept rambling about some feelings and teared up out of emotion. She still does occasionally, but not as often as before.

We have been through a lot, uncovering old wounds and healing together. Giving each other that reassurance and validation we both crave more than anything. I think that’s a great positive to our relationship, is how well we share a wavelength in our emotions and how we naturally crave physical bliss from each other. It’s a steady and comforting recovery to just cuddle in bed together after a draining day, for either or both of us.

On a positive note, we are very affectionate and sweet together, so a lot of other people tend to say. Sometimes saying how we are wholesome, or adorable together. It is nice and validating to hear. I tend to be more loving in public when given the chance, Dany isn't much into PDA as she doesn't like so many eyes on her. But has gradually learned to not care too much on it. She has gotten more confident in that regard 🥰 especially with surprise kisses U///w///U

I think the first time she ever kisses me a bit...passionately in public was when someone was apparently flirting with me? I didn't have a clue about it if I have to be honest 😅 and I do think her wolf ability may have given her that forward reaction to kiss me. Surprised I was, but not at all opposed to it~ it was so cute to see slowly realize what she did later and how she practically combusted into embarrassment for her forward action. She definitely needed some reassurance and words of encouragement from me 🥰🥰🥰

Needless to say, she is adorable and I love my darling, tiny lover UwU <3

⭐️: Does your FO have any habits that you only noticed after spending a significant amount of time with them? Do they notice any of yours?

Habits eh? Hmm, Atsushi has some peculiar ones that are caused by his tiger ability... I mean so do I, but I'm normally like that since I was a child. 😅 He is like a cat sometimes and it is honestly endearing to witness and very comforting 🥰 he purrs when we cuddle and has these big eyes sometimes when I give him praise and kisses UwU. Sometimes dilated during more... affectionate times~

He also still bares some habits that stem from his time at the orphanage that I never noticed until we started living together. Such as his early sleep and morning wake up schedule. I’m not much of a morning person in the slightest 😅 I can be very irked and tense and need at least an hour to mentally wake myself up as I move about the place. I especially need coffee and some sort of protein with my food to wake me up.

I’m not very lively and may look irritated to a fault 😔 the amount of times I worried mi Tigre at the start because he thought he did something wrong ;;;w;;; of course with time he understood and got use to it and definitely gave me the space to compose myself. He definitely makes it easier to wake up with a few affectionate kisses and preparing breakfast ;;;w;;; I, of course, in the rare times do the same for him, I just have to be up prior to his now 6am wake up 😮‍💨

Hmm.. he also has his bad days, usually when a memory of his past flickers in his mind he kind of shuts down and it leads to nightmares occasionally. They were more frequent earlier on when we moved in together in the dorms and the first few weeks in our new home and have gradually slowed down. But sometimes I would wake in the middle of the night to him gone, immediately picking him out cowering away in a closet. Huddled in a ball and attempting to stifle his tears when I find him..

I was concerned, but not overly as before when he first did this prior to our relationship. Instead I joined him and offered him my comfort to ground him back from his terror and memory. Usually wordless, gentle comfort and letting him cry out all the emotions that twist and pained his heart. Once he calmed a bit, I offered any words of validation and usually pitch the question if he would like to talk about it. Sometimes yes, sometimes no, either or I don’t let up holding him and keeping him steady to present time.

It’s definitely helped a lot, mi pobre tigre… he feels bad sometimes for the disrupt sleep or mental toll it brings me. But I always remind him, gently but stern, that in those moments he is the one that matters and I am not about to abandon him in his time of need.

Maybe it’s because I understand him deeply in that sense, while our lives may not have been the same, we understand the toll our traumatic past takes on us, individually.

Atsushi has definitely been there for me a lot of the time, I have a lot of self doubt and need plenty of reassurance. I’m..overly sensitive too so I don’t like arguing or any rise in anger, it’s hard for me to…really stand up for myself in that regard; hee..to literally not cry because I am trying to make a point…

Ah sorry, about the small downed turn this took; I don’t normally talk about these things. Am trying to get better by talking more about it, especially with mi Tigre who honestly listens when so many … often don’t.

Nonetheless, some more positive, funny/cute habits from the last; Atsushi tends to ramble on about new things he learns and enjoys telling me more about it. I remember he spoke for a whole hour about chameleons, I drew him some cute doodles as he told me more about them. He keeps the image somewhere in his phone. He also rubs his neck or cups his chin a lot when confused, nervous or in deep thought.

He on the other hand has noticed how often I tend to sit on my legs, that I don’t have a single perfect posture no matter where I sit. Could be the most comforting chair or very stiff, hard ones and I still keep my legs up with me. I just can't for the life of me sit still at all, it'd last like less than 5 minutes at most 😅 but he finds it adorable and cute how often I can just curl myself into what looks like an awkward position to others but for me is rather comfy and just how I prefer to sit.

His lap is the most comforting place to sit tho 👀👀

Atsushi: You also have the bad habit of biting your lips, Darling 👀

👀...Noooo... okay yes I do, a lot, like a lot more as of recent,,, And I crack my fingers a lot too...and tap my feet, more so in public out of nervous jitters I think...

Well, that's enough of that~ we greatly appreciate the emoji asks and honestly love doing these kinds of asks 🥺 it gives me so much more of a chance to explore the dynamic and relationship between mi Tigre and I ❤️😍🥰 Leaves me warm and fussy and soft. A melting puddle of silly and foolish love U///w///U...

Please by all mean's don't be shy to send asks or talk with me! I do my best to respond when I can and want to give all my love and support to every self shipper! Till the next asks! Take care!

[httpjeon]

— 05. bunny blues: betrayal | yoongi & jungkook

yoongi/reader/jungkook | angst, fluff | hybrid!au

wordcount: 2k

contents: crying, mild arguments, protective!jk, lightly implied abandonment, namjoon is mentioned yay, implied to mxm relationship, implied reference to sex toys

― synopsis: while snooping in yoongi's room, you find something that turns things completely upside down.

note: now it's yoongi's turn to fuck up yay

blog masterlist ɪɴᴅᴇx: 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 06 | 07 | 08

© httpjeon 2019. do not repost, modify, or translate.

"Are you sure you'll be okay?" Yoongi pressed, scratching your soft bunny ear, making you smile. "I can ask Hoseok or Jimin to—"

"It'll be okay, Yoongi," You reassured, taking his hand in yours. "I can be home alone, I promise!"

"Alright," Yoongi sighed, sliding his shoes onto his feet. "If you need anything, my cell number is by the phone okay?"

"And there's leftovers in the fridge, okay Bun?" Jungkook smiled, patting your head as you nodded.

"I know," You weren't really surprised by how difficult it was to get them to leave. They weren't exactly keen on letting you be home all by yourself. However, Yoongi had received a call that your dresser needed to be picked up. As it was heavy, Jungkook offered to join and help carry it. Since they would need to put the back seat down in Yoongi's car to fit the dresser, you didn't have a place to sit.

Thus, they came to the decision to leave you home alone for the first time.

Once they were gone and the house was quiet, you decided to sit and watch some TV. You sat and watched some cartoons Jungkook had introduced you to, letting the hours tick by quickly as you became engrossed in the colorful pictures and silly shenanigans of the characters. 

However, when the good shows went off and something boring began to play, you got curious.

You were allowed in Yoongi's room and you had ventured in there whenever you helped with laundry or you needed to wake him up. But you hadn't ever been in there to really look around — you were almost scared you'd get in trouble. Though, deep down, you knew those feelings were unfounded. Yoongi had claimed numerous times what was his was yours and he wouldn't punish your natural curiosity of the space you lived in.

So with Yoongi and Jungkook gone — it was the perfect opportunity to have a look.

You almost felt like a spy as you crept into the bedroom.

You peeked through his night table, finding a little bottle of clear liquid with a label that said 'water-based lubricant'. Shrugging, you put it back where you found it and closed the drawer.

Next you began to snoop through his dresser — which resulted in nothing. So you decided to search his closet, touching his various work clothes before pausing when you lay your eyes on a box. It was sitting inconspicuously in the back of his closet and you were immediately curious of its contents.

Kneeling down, you unhooked the snaps that held it closed and opened it.

Inside, you were shocked to see an array of...toys, maybe? They were in different sizes but they all resembled the same cylindrical shape. However, there was also a collection of bulbous things and some had pretty gems on the end. You also found a few bandanas, pieces of rope, and even a pair of handcuffs.

You hummed, closing the box and leaving it alone — deciding to maybe ask Yoongi about it later if you could work up the courage to reveal your snooping.

The next place you had your sights on was his work desk — nestled in the corner of his room with a chair that you happily sat in. There was a laptop and a phone there that matched the one in the kitchen. Sometimes Yoongi would answer it from his desk when it rang. There was a file organizer that was similar to what Joonie had on his desk, you remember accidentally knocking it over one time which made Namjoon mad. 

He'd hurt your feelings by yelling at you but immediately felt bad and took you out for some ice cream to apologize. 

As you looked through the files, you found one with your name on it that was next to a similar one with Jungkook’s name on it. As much as you'd like to read what Jungkook's said, you were more curious to know what your file held.

When you flipped it open, you found an overview of your previous doctors appointments with your breed, height, and weight. It also contained the papers Namjoon had given Yoongi as a guide for your care. They had become worn and a little torn in some places from Yoongi, no doubt, diligently going over their contents numerous times. However, when you flipped past all of that you came across what appeared to be an advertisement.

'Looking for a good home for hybrid.

Breed: Holland Lop — Rabbit Hybrid

Name: _____

Sex: Female

Very loving and affectionate. Gets along well with other hybrids. Rehomed at least once prior.'

You stared at the paper, your picture plastered on the front of it — taken from your official papers you had to get renewed every year to remain a valid hybrid-citizens. Your eyebrows came together in confusion as you flipped past the page and found a list of names and numbers; people who were interested in adopting you. Yoongi had crossed out some names with little comments claiming a home ranging from 'too disorganized' to plain 'unfit'.

Your breathing began to speed up at the realization that Yoongi was looking to re-home you. Tears began to prick at your eyes as you felt a rush of emotions crash through you. You were sad, hurt, confused, angry and disappointed all in one. It was painful, made your chest hurt.

You didn't understand! You thought everything was going so well! He bought you so much stuff, he was out getting you a dresser so you could have even more clothes and belongings. Jungkook had accepted you as part of them, had shared his story with you.

All the while they were just planning on getting rid of you? So why go through all the trouble of making a room?

Perhaps Yoongi had found another hybrid to adopt — someone cuter, prettier, more well behaved, or someone Jungkook liked more than you.

You felt jealous and betrayed. You didn't realize you had crumpled the paper in your hands through your anger and tears.

Suddenly, the doorbell rang and you jumped. Throwing the papers on the ground without a care, you stormed out of Yoongi's room to the front door.

You expected to see the two of them standing there and you were ready to yell at them. However, when you threw the door open, you were shocked to see a young man and woman standing there. They both looked as stunned as you felt. Though they had a perfect reason to feel shocked as a crying, angry bunny opened the door to greet them wearing an ugly frown.

"I-I...Are you okay?" The woman cooed, mouth dropping open in concern at your tears.

You halfway hid behind the door, sniffling pitifully.

"What do you want?" You muttered, trying not to sound rude though you did want them gone as soon as possible.

"Are you _____?" The man asked and you merely nodded.

"Is Min Yoongi here? He was supposed to visit us about your adoption..." The woman trailed off when you let out a little sob. “He didn't show up so we—”

"He's not here!" You snapped, ready to just slam the door.

"We—"

"What's going on?" A familiar voice growled and both the human's heads whipped around to see Jungkook standing at his full height — completely on guard, shoulders squared, at the sight of strangers and you crying. "What the hell did you do?!"

"Us?! We didn't do anything!" The man snapped, looking like he was going to approach Jungkook but froze when the hybrid snarled in response.

"Whoa, hey!" Yoongi finally jogged up, freezing when he took in everything that was going on. "And you are?"

"Park Sunhi and Kang Sangmin...you never showed up for the adoption consultation so we came to the address you gave us to see for ourselves!" Sunhi quickly explained, wanting to diffuse the situation as much as Yoongi.

"Adoption?!" Jungkook snarled, turning to glare at Yoongi who looked horrified.

"She just came to the door sobbing, my god," Sangmin snapped. "It's a good thing you're putting her up because you obviously have no idea how to care for her!"

"How dare you!" Yoongi was fuming now, not appreciating the accusation.

"She's not up for adoption!" Jungkook added, finally going inside to pull you against him where you began to cry once more.

"That's not your decision to make, mutt!" Sangmin argued, an insult which tore another growl from Jungkook.

You'd never seen the happy pup so angry before. His whole body was trembling against yours and his teeth were bared in pure aggression — like he was ready to attack the man at any moment. If looks could kill the man would be 6 feet under at that very second.

"P-Please calm down," Yoongi sighed, stepping in to block you and Jungkook from the strangers view, though Jungkook still towered over him from behind. "It was a mistake on my part. I forgot to inform you that she is no longer eligible for adoption."

"This is ridiculous! We drove all the way here from Gwangju!" Sangmin snapped.

"I-I know I'm sorry...it completely slipped my mind to cancel..." Yoongi explained, trying his best to diffuse the situation. "I'd be happy to compensate you for the money you spent to get here but—"

"Save your fuckin' money, asshole," Sangmin's hostile words had Jungkook growling again, pulling you deeper into his body protectively as he also reached to grip the back of Yoongi’s shirt ready to protect his owner as well.

"Honey—" Sunhi didn't have a chance to finish before her husband was pulling her away angrily.

Yoongi heaved a huge sigh before slowly closing the door. However, if he thought he was going to get a moment of reprieve, he was wrong.

"What the fuck, hyung?!" Jungkook cried, finally letting you go. You were shocked — it was the first time you'd ever heard him cuss or raise his voice in anger at Yoongi. "You were going to put her up for adoption?! How could you do that?"

"I-I'm sorry, Jungkook...____," Your name had you looking at him through teary eyes.

"Y-You don't want me?" You whimpered, tugging anxiously at your ear that flopped over your face sadly.

"Oh baby," Yoongi sighed, breezing past Jungkook to cup your cheeks in his hands. "The exact opposite."

"Th-Then why..."

"It was when you were depressed," Yoongi began to explain, wiping your tears away with his thumbs. "I thought you were unhappy with me and Jungkook. I thought that you'd be happier in another home so I was looking to find you someone you could live with..."

"B-But I wanna stay here!" You sobbed, bottom lip quivering. Jungkook moved forward again, burying his face in your neck to nose to scent you — trying to comfort you. Your shoulders relaxed in response as his spicy scent wafted around you, making you sniffle.

"I know that now," Yoongi squatted down at your feet, taking your hands in his and looking up at you. "And that's why I've actually been looking to officially adopt you."

There was a beat of silence before you were throwing yourself into Yoongi's arms, effectively knocking him over. He laughed, hugging you tightly with both arms around your waist.

"You mean it, hyung?" Jungkook asked, grinning as he kneeled down beside the two of you on hand on the back of your head with the other on Yoongi’s shoulder.

"Absolutely, I love you both to bits," Yoongi admitted and you gasped.

It was the first time he had told you he loved you!

"I love you too, Yoongi!" You squealed, rubbing your cheek against the soft material of his shirt. "And you too Kookie!"

"I-I love you guys too," Jungkook admitted, finally joining in on the group hug on the floor. His voice was a little watery as he held back tears but neither you or Yoongi mentioned it. 

Not that Jungkook would admit getting emotional anyway.

Later on, Yoongi would come out of his bedroom flustered — cheeks and ears pink.

"_-_____ did you go through my closet?" He asked, which had Jungkook stiffening as well.

"Hm? Oh yeah!" You admitted carelessly, popping a raw carrot into your mouth.

"D-Did you look in our-my box?" He asked, looking like he was going to pass out when you nodded your head.

"Say, what are all those funny things in there anyway?"

Beside you, Jungkook choked on a chicken nugget.

[ieatmypizzawithaforkandknife]

MAG 018 - The Man Upstairs

Summary: Jonathan reads the statement of Christof Rudenko, regarding “his interactions with a first-floor resident of Welbeck House, Wandsworth.”

Obligatory confession of American confusion: This episode is about 23 minutes long, and it took me until somewhere around the 20-minute mark before I had my light-bulb moment about Toby Carlisle being a “first-floor resident”. By “first floor” he means “SECOND floor” in American speak. Yes, that’s right - I spent almost the entire episode confused about which floor this guy really lived on. (For anyone not in the know, in the U.S. the “first floor” is the floor that you walk into a building on, that you don’t use any steps or stairs to access. It is also called the ground floor - they are the same thing. If you go up one flight of stairs, you are now on the second floor, not the first.)

The first-floor-second-floor thing was pretty much the only mystery I solved this episode though. I definitely enjoyed the episode (despite feeling like throwing up myself at some of the descriptions), but as with most of the episodes, I’m left with far more questions and tantalizing clues than actual answers.

Christof describes the odd, unpleasant odor around Toby Carlisle as “halfway between the smell of the pavement after a rain on a hot day and chicken that’s starting to turn”. The second part of that makes sense, given the state of Toby’s apartment when Christof enters it at the end, but I’m having trouble placing what exactly that first part is supposed to smell like. More interesting to me though is the fact that the smell was already there when Christof moved in, even though the banging from Toby’s apartment didn’t start until almost two years later. It seems reasonable to assume the banging was Toby nailing the various meats to the walls, floor, ceiling, etc., but if that’s the case, then where was that smell coming from for the years prior to that? Did it originate with Toby himself, or did his excess meat problem cause the smell long before he actually started nailing them to the walls?

When Christof returned the incorrectly delivered package to Toby’s apartment, we get possibly the most detailed description of any part of Toby in the entire episode: “The hand was thin and pale, with long, filthy yellow fingernails. On the back, I saw a single dark red mark that might have been a cut or a lesion, but it was gone before I had a chance to see it in more detail.” The “single dark red mark” is likely the beginning of the “puckered, septic lesions and holes” Christof sees in Toby’s dead face at the end of the episode (some part of me wants to say it reminds me of Jared Key’s eye tattoos from episode 12...but I’m trying to ignore that possibility), but the fingernails are what really piqued my interest. Christof tells himself for most of the episode that Toby just has a severe hygiene issue, but if it was straight-up uncleanliness, his fingernails would be primarily brown or black, caked with dirt or grime, that sort of thing. Instead, they are yellow more than anything else. This is the first of five mentions of the color yellow in this episode - the second is the color of the growing stain on Christof’s dining room ceiling, the third is the color of the liquid that oozes out of the hole in the ceiling after it collapses, the fourth is the color of the rotting meat covering Toby’s apartment, and the fifth is the color of the “fluid” that “oozed” from the creepy af pile of meat in Toby’s kitchen. The similarity in the colors indicates a direct connection between Toby himself (that is, his body) and the rotten meat. But the pieces of meat that lined his apartment were, in Christof’s estimation, pieces of various non-human animals - so if we take him at his word, the rotten meat wasn’t literally from Toby, so something external caused both Toby and the meat to excrete that sickly yellow rot.

So what made it target or infect Toby? No clue, since we don’t have any background on him, but I sure hope it wasn’t done by touch alone: Christof got some of that yellow slime on his jacket sleeve when Toby snatched the package from him. He said he couldn’t get rid of the smell and eventually threw the jacket out - but then he accidentally touched the stuff while fumbling for the light switch in Toby’s apartment at the end. When they followed up with him, he said “he had had no further experiences he believed to be linked to these events” and I don’t have any specific reason to disbelieve that - except that that means Toby wasn’t infected by just touching the wrong thing (or person). This isn’t a Jane Prentiss-type infection. So what’s Toby’s story?

And just what was in that package? “The envelope was thick and soft - it must have been mainly full of bubble wrap or other packing material.” So...it wasn’t meat? Because that would have been two puzzle pieces fitting together quite nicely, canceling each other out, and I’m more than a little irked that that wasn’t the case. It’s like Jonathan said at the end: “Where was he getting the meat?” At first, the sheer quantity of meat reminded me, vaguely, of the bag of teeth from episode 5. Both were a multitude of body parts. But those teeth were human and the meat is (apparently) from animals, and all the teeth were identical, whereas these meats are all different cuts from different animals. Notably, they’re all animals that are typically eaten by humans - Christof mentions steaks, chicken, and lamb among them. This seems to be more of that theme of rotten food, although in this case I think the “rotten” is more important than the “food”.

Despite all these questions I have, none of these things are directly harmful. Sure, Christof’s ceiling caves in, but no one besides Toby dies or gets hurt (that we know of). But that pile at the end...I got some Seriously Bad Vibes from that. To recap, Christof found in Toby’s kitchen “a pile of discarded meat and bone stacked almost as high as a person. It seemed almost less decayed than the rest of it, though that foul yellow fluid oozed from it, and���when I looked at that heaped pile of meat…it moved. I don’t know how - I don’t know quite how to explain it, other than it opened its eyes. It opened all its eyes. The next thing I remember is the police’s arrival” - and then suddenly the pile of meat was gone. There are two things here - inherently connected, I’m sure - that I’d like to point out.

First is the eyes. Creepy or out-of-place eyes have been mentioned every few episodes so far in the series: in the painting on Mary Key’s wall in episode 4, in Wilfred Owen’s death in episode 7, in the eye pendants in episode 9, in Jared Key’s eye tattoos in episode 12 (as well as the eye in the security camera in that same episode). And with each new appearance (particularly the one in this episode) I’m starting to get more and more worried about whatever being or creature or presence the eyes belong to.

Which brings me to the second thing. One of the recurring themes in these stories has been what I’ve taken to calling “altered reality” - when things appear one way but, we find out later, were actually quite different. When Graham is confused by Amy mentioning his nonexistent window box in episode 3. When Laura tries to reverse out of the squeeze in the cave in episode 15 and her foot hits solid rock. When the pile of meat straight-up disappears in this very episode. I want to be clear - those examples of “altered reality” are not what I’m talking about when I discuss a new (to me) theme: the incomprehensible. This pile of...whatever...in Toby’s kitchen is literally incomprehensible to Christof. He can’t even put into words what he saw. It’s like either the words don’t exist to describe what he saw or his brain can’t comprehend it - or possibly both. He says, “when I looked at that heaped pile of meat…it moved. I don’t know how - I don’t know quite how to explain it, other than it opened its eyes. It opened all its eyes.” Being unable to trust your senses due to some “altered reality” is terrifying, but to experience something that is literally incomprehensible and indescribable is just another level of terrifying. And the one thing most clearly intertwined with this incomprehensibility Christof experiences? The eyes. Specifically, the eyes opening.

We’ve seen this incomprehensibility before, albeit in slightly less terrifying (IMO) situations. In episode 3, Amy describes the creature entering Graham’s window: “When I say it moved, that’s not quite right - it shifted. Like when you stare at one of those old magic eye paintings and you change from seeing one picture into seeing another.” But much more blatantly and recently, in episode 17 Sebastian describes reading an excerpt from The Boneturner’s Tale: the Boneturner “crept up to the Miller while he slept. It described him silently reaching inside him and…it’s a bit hazy. All I remember clearly is the line ‘and from his rib a flute to play that merry tune of marrow took’. And as for the rest, I don’t recall in detail.” The second example concerns me much more than the first. I feel bad for Graham, of course, and I really want to know what that creature was...but The Boneturner’s Tale was a Leitner and seemed to have the power to deform anyone who touched it.

By themselves, it doesn’t appear that the eyes are doing anything. They’re just eyes, after all. No limbs, no body. But I don’t know if they really are just watching, or if their form and actions are so incomprehensible to humans that the people in these stories essentially can’t perceive it. And if they are just watching...what are they watching for, and what’s going to happen when they see it?

This post is part of a series where I write my thoughts about each episode and obsessively connect dots in an effort to figure out The Big Mysteries of the series. All posts in this series are tagged “is this liveblogging?” Comments and messages are welcome but I have only listened to season 1, so I ask that you not spoil me for anything beyond episode 40. In the words of Jonny Sims…thanks for listening!

[yume-fanfare]

hi i am that anon from like 29th Dec (last dang year) who said i read ur tsuki no hime and loved it and that u understand Aizou. i have read more of ur stuff since then and now i NEED to ask you for writing advice, on both characterization and general writing tips since I didnt mention it before. Sorry about that! i just forgot i sent an ask and i do not get notifs at all (or does anon asks not get notifs?) Also, ART STUDENT! That's why the nice art and art leaning!! I feel smart for sensing it

oh yup, tumblr doesn't send notifs for anon asks! but i'm glad you did see the answer anyway

this post is hideously long, so answer under the cut!

so, on characterization: it is mostly a matter of what would they say, rather than what you want them to say. the joke about "the characters do what they want to" instead of what the writer wants is pretty much true if you want them to be in character lol (that's why sometimes a little bit of OoC isn't too bad)

checking the source material is the most important thing: look at prior similar interactions the characters have had and how they reacted

this is kind of hard with LIPxLIP, as there aren't that many translated texts about them but with honeyworks the most canon and reliable thing to use as reference are the mvs. the mvs are drawn in a way that can pretty much be understood even if you don't have the lyrics, and sometimes it's even better if you can't read them, to properly focus on the images better

look at their expressions closely: while aizou is always explosive in his anger, yuujirou often has a more indifferent expression. so, when they fight, aizou is probably the one to blow up first while yuujirou maintains his composure better. it's kind of the classic "this was only a brief passing panel but i am going to expand on it" www

but the thing about fanfiction is that it's always a bit of a character analysis in itself. you don't start writing having already a color-coded folder of possible situations and reactions a character would have for each setting. you just throw the characters in a scenario and then think from there onwards, and eventually you'll be able to have the folder of situations and what you think their reactions would be like. (though, this links back to the prior point, if the characters have gone through a similar situation in canon, use that as guide! plus, finding little references to canon when reading is always fun)

for general writing, i'm going to mostly talk about my own experiences and process! i'm in no way a professional though

the basic is reading a lot. not just books but also fanfic. in fact, since you're writing fanfic, i Encourage you to read fanfic. even if your story ends up novel length, the way of treating the story is different from that of an actual novel. for example, because you're working under the premise that everyone knows the characters already. the general style of fics is different as well.

in fact, the style is the main reason i'm saying this slfkslfkslkf

read a lot of stuff and find a style you like. think of it as sewing together pieces from here and there to make a frankenstein amalgamation: this person's metaphors, the comparisons from here, the descriptions from there

personally, i adore the "long one-shot with a long title formatted (like this)" fics that are mostly feelings and descriptions and as little dialogue as possible, and some that occasionally play with the "show don't tell" rule, and some months ago i read a book whose descriptions amazed me because you could feel what the character was focusing on the most, rather than being general descriptions of the situation (i actually have a lot of thoughts about descriptions but that's a post for another day). but also i really like dialogue and plot-driven stories, descriptions can get boring and before trying to break rules, you have to be really good at following them

but, let's go step by step: developing an idea

for this i'm going to mostly reference the multichap i finished a while ago as an example

i started with just a few vague concepts in mind: non-idol au with aizou who does some sport and likes music but is insecure about his singing and yuujirou who does some music related thing and encourages him to sing in a way that's somehow related to the hozier song to noisemaking (sing), because it's what inspired me to write in the first place

then, from then onwards i wrote down what would happen in the first chapter of the story bullet-point-list-style, including things like the roommates part or the clubs the boys were in (at first yuujirou was in the choir club lol the change was a last second decision that idk why i took) and then bits of dialogue here and there that would be The Turning Points. those first dialogues were for the fight at the end of ch 1, the apology-date in ch 3 and then some vaguely unused ones for the "yuujirou encourages aizou" part, as those were the first key moments i thought of

because, since it's enemies to friends to lovers, an important aspect was character development

not all fics have character development bc not all of them are long enough (if you're aiming for short and sweet then there's no need). but if they do, i recommend you write down how the character was at the beginning of the story and then how they were at the end and then fill in the middle later, think of what those key turning points that made the character change were (the more little things you add, the more gradual it'll be)

samishigariya illustrates this very nicely: the song starts and finishes with the same lines, but the ending ones feel more light-hearted. the beginning has pre-arisa ken and pre-getting-along-with-yuujirou aizou, when they were the lonely people the title mentioned, and the ending, when they're not lonely anymore. the in between can be seen in depth during the other songs: ken before arisa was a playboy who didn't take love seriously, but after meeting her he realized that games were not all there was to love; and aizou used to be quite cranky and high-key a loner, but then he "meets precious things and knows of love". i will not elaborate on that because this isn't an aiyuu post but Oh You Know

for the fic, aizou would go through that same process, more or less: someone who doesn't really form meaningful connections with people but who, in the end, would end up having quite a bunch of people who care about him as his relationship with yuujirou advances too

since the relationship was the main focus, i wrote a very simple outline for how it would develop throughout 5 hypothetical chapters that was just: 1. civil w each other but mostly bad > 2. bad > 3. half friends > 4. pining > 5. date

and then with that in mind and the bullet point list, the final basic outline ended up like this:

there were scraped ideas and ideas that made it in later, but i believe having a simple outline, a bare skeleton to add things to, is important. stories need continuity, development requires a prior buildup

it's especially important in multichapter fics where you post as you write, you need to have a more or less clear idea of what's going to happen because you can't ignore scenes you've already posted

shorter stories don't need it as much, you can think as you go, but it's still helpful to know where you're going with things to avoid getting stuck

and, on getting stuck: don't be afraid of deleting things. if you can't figure out how to continue things, then delete the situation and start again. it might feel like you'd be wasting time but in the end, it is so much better than being stuck on the same scene for weeks

in fact, you don't have to write in order. jump to the next scene and you'll figure it out later. you Can write the scene you want to write and then build everything else around it

it's normal to write a scene and then realize it would make more sense later in the story, or that it would be better if you added another scene earlier, or sometimes you just find it easier to jump from one part of the story to another. rely on your outline to keep track of what you've written, what you have left to write and what's the best way to arrange your story. make your story understandable

which bring us to editing

there's a lot of much better posts on editing stories, but yeah ctrl+f is your best friend: don't repeat yourself too much. and be sure to vary sentence and paragraph length, as well as sentence structure, to give dynamism to the writing

now, i've mentioned before the show, don't tell rule, but i'm going to talk a bit more about it because it's quite important

once again there's a lot of posts that explain more in depth what it is, so i'm not going to expand too much on that, but, very basically, try to avoid things like "then some time passed and they became friends". explain it: what happened exactly? how did they become friends? if it's important, show it to us, instead of summarizing

since things like these make the story longer, it also gives room for more development and proper explanation for things that happen

for example, the fic was originally going to start with them already in the room, and the whole situation would have been explained in a single paragraph somewhere, but by actually adding the scene where they first arrive to the dorms and argue with the lady at the main desk, the story flows better and it let me actually describe their first meeting

and uuuhhh i think that's all? this took super long to write i hope i didn't forget any super basic stuff lol

i want to add that for enemies to lovers i greatly recommend this post bc it's super good but yeah i think that's basically it, if you have any more specific questions just shoot me an ask

[localkatshelter]

Okame’s Underbelly: Anticipation |1st|

(Shinso x OC)

Katsumi's POV (localvillageidiot#0870) and Shinso's POV (hecker#8339)

Summary:

 Two people with a common passion meet unexpectedly during one of Shinso's lowest moments. He'd like to forget it ever happened but Katsumi has her own reasons for not letting it go. Through push and pull, they struggle to understand one another, regardless they can't keep away from each other.

Preview: 

| How long have I been staring at myself in the fucking mirror? My eyes look so dead...but don’t they always. I realized the extra lifelessness wasn’t due to my overall apathy or shitty eyeliner; it was due to them being red and puffy. That’s no good. I hurriedly searched through the cabinet for my eye drops. They were usually used for another purpose, but today, they’ll be used to disguise the fact that I had been crying. |

(Katsumi's POV)

My head fell forward for the millionth time as I struggled to stay awake for the last five minutes of my summer remedial science lab. Why does science have to be so boring? This fucking professor always lectures for the full three hours too. How could someone possibly have this much to say about chlorophyll? All I could do was watch the clock tick by until, finally, the class was dismissed. I gathered my things as quickly as possible and headed towards my dorm building. Throwing my things onto the kitchen table, I immediately started to strip and headed towards the bathroom. The silver lining in having to come to campus in the summer for my remedial class? Getting to move in early and having the whole suite to myself. I showered quickly and put on my typical Friday night attire: some broken-in mom jeans that I embroidered and had a friend paint on paired with a comfortable faded band t-shirt I had stolen from a partner I had long forgotten the name of, tucked and held in place with some old belt I fished out of a Good Will bin a few years ago. I hummed as I put on some clear lipgloss and touched up my hair. Perfect. I made sure to set out some dinner for my fat cat who was hiding somewhere in my bedroom, likely in my sheets. For a supposed emotional support animal, I never saw much of her unless she was in the mood to cuddle, which was usually at night.

“Harley, I’m going out. I’ll be back.” I called out.

She meowed from the bed in response. I grabbed my things from the table and tossed them into my bedroom before popping my headphones in and heading out the door. I was on my way to the only place that made my summer Fridays bearable: The Squeaky Wheelhouse.

After a short while, I walked up to a dark and disheveled, yet oddly charming, building. This was my hidden gem, the highlight of my college career, a place where artists gathered to share their work and critique the world around them without fear. Friday nights were open mic nights for spoken word poetry, which I didn’t think I would like until I heard Okame perform. Their words about the plights of the world of heroism and comic book celebrities brought to life really resonated with me. Most of their pieces were critiques on how heroes navigate their jobs and how they are treated by the government, the people, and each other. I admired the way they captured the duality of appreciating heroes for what they are while also not feeling a need to bow to them as if they were gods. It felt so real to me, especially because around the same time I first heard their work, I had started my photojournalism blog on a similar topic. It was really just a love project at first. I would take pictures of heroes in the heat of battle and use them to show how human they really are. Honestly, I'm not even sure if it was me or my quirk that had the idea first. My hyperempathology quirk sometimes had a mind of its own. It was always dragging me into situations that I had no business being in. I always ended up manipulating someone's emotions to make them feel better, which had positive and negative results. On the one hand, I was glad that I could make someone feel better. On the other hand, it made me feel like shit because not only did I manipulate someone’s emotions without permission; I also absorbed the negative emotions I had alleviated. In a strange sense, the blog was my own way of alleviating myself of what I had alleviated. I had never expected it to take off either, but there I was, a month later, still taking pictures of heroes in their most desperate and vulnerable state in an effort to humanize them. I kept at it because, well, they are people after all. They aren’t gods, they have emotions, but the way the media and the government build a hero’s image doesn’t allow for much expression. It’s unfair to them; it's as if they aren't allowed to be people anymore. I had always thought I was alone in that, but apparently, I’m not. My blog has a pretty decent following now, which I am super proud of. Although I’m pretty sure that a lot of people in the hero community despise or at least dislike me for basically being renegade paparazzi.

Oh well. No one knows it’s me who runs the blog. The closest anyone has ever gotten was when someone traced my IP address back to the college campus, but Kyoto University has upwards of 22,000 students enrolled. There’s no way someone would be able to find me out as long as I don’t use my personal electronics to post. Okame had also become a popular performer at the Wheelhouse and had a sort of residency time slot on Friday nights. It was weird, but I was proud of them too. I felt like we were similar, almost connected by our mutual views and creative outlets. On top of that, they used a pseudonym and a ghost performer just like I used a pen name and hid my IP address for my work. All of the aligning characteristics made me think we would get along if we ever met, but that’ll probably never happen.

I walked into the building, waving to the Friday night staff that I had gotten to know over the summer. I took a seat on a comfortable looking armchair near the back corner of the main room that had a decent view of the small performance stage. I opened up a book that I brought with me to read until the performances started. I ordered a large mint tea and settled in, anticipating Okame’s latest insight.

(Shinso's POV)

I had bitten my lips raw at this point. There’s no way it’s actually over. We’ve broken up so many times before, and we’ve always managed to hash it out. But this time felt different. She wasn’t returning my texts with curt responses. She wasn’t posting about me subliminally on her social media to piss me off. She didn’t show up at my house with the gifts I had given her and dramatically throw them at me. No angry voicemails. No tears. No nothing. The strangest part was that her last text wished me well, even though I ended it this time around. All of it almost felt like a real goodbye. But still, there’s no way.

I had to talk to her tonight to make sure. Throughout our whole relationship, despite our arguing, we never missed a Friday at The Squeaky Wheelhouse. That was our way to ease the stress from the strife of the week prior. No matter how mad we were, we would still begrudgingly sit together and enjoy the show. By the end of the night, we would always manage to soften towards each other once again. Even if my piece of the week was bitterly aimed at her, she still respected me enough to put my voice out there and perform it for me. That’s what I loved about her. She knew attention made me squeamish and vulnerability was definitely not my favorite pastime. I shared the document that contained today's piece with her. It was an apology. She could barely squeeze those out of me normally, so she had to know I was deadly serious this time around. I tried not to envision her reaction or dwell on whether or not she would even accept my apology because it made me so anxious that I wanted to jump out of my skin.

How long have I been staring at myself in the fucking mirror? My eyes look so dead...but don’t they always. I realized the extra lifelessness wasn’t due to my overall apathy or shitty eyeliner; it was due to them being red and puffy. That’s no good. I hurriedly searched through the cabinet for my eyedrops. They were usually used for another purpose, but today, they’ll be used to disguise the fact that I had been crying. Save those tears for later, Shinso. She’s seen me cry even less than she’s heard me apologize. Numbness was the best blanket I’ve ever had. But tonight, I’ll avoid covering myself up. I need to show her that I care because I’m known to fucking suck at it. After I applied the drops, I roughly ran my fingers through my torturously messy violet mane, exhaling heavily. I tried to dress up a little this Friday. I know it’s trivial, but I want to be my best for her tonight. My outfit was made up of my typical dark colors, but I dressed it up with a black jean jacket, chelsea boots, and a few bulky rings that she gifted me but were too cumbersome to actually wear. What makes them even more annoying is that I’ve been fiddling with them all evening to distract myself, and let me tell you, it’s not working. I have another hour until I have to leave; I need a better distraction.

I plopped myself down on my bed with my laptop and clicked on my “The Underbelly'' bookmark. I always loved the irony of this blog served as an escape but also as a merciless glimpse into reality for me. My leg bounced as the page loaded—no new posts. Shit...well, it has only been a couple of days. I thoroughly looked forward to the new content because the author and I are eerily like-minded as far as hero ideology. Sometimes I felt as if I wrote a few of the entries myself. They’re the only person that I felt connected to on a philosophical level, and finally having that was comforting, to say the least. It was a bit taboo to criticize heroes so harshly because it was easy to be labeled as ungrateful. I’ve personally always felt like a great way to show appreciation is to continuously try to improve a system that everyone relies on. I guess people just don’t like to make sense. Hero work is honestly one of the few things I actually cared about, and to see people be so dismissive really pissed me off. Then again, people don’t really know I feel this way. I try not to let people get into my head too much. That’s why I created my Okame persona. I wanted to get my views out there without making it about myself at all. I felt it didn’t really hold true to the purpose of my message, with the whole not making hero’s these god-like figureheads simply for doing what’s right. That and...I hate when people look at me for more than a few seconds. My searing glare usually fixed that right quick. Quickly getting over the minor disappointment, I closed my laptop. Well, I didn’t have another alternative distraction, so I decided to say fuck it and head to the kitchen for some liquid courage.

I downed about two shots of rum. I was taking the bus there anyway, so it’s not like it mattered. I checked my watch, 30 more minutes. I wracked my brain for something to alleviate the unbearable anticipation as I blankly stared at the bottle of rum. Oh! I could pick up her favorite soju. It’s super strong, so we usually reserve it for a day where we don’t plan to do shit else but enjoy each other's company. But I feel like if we’re gonna hash all the bullshit out, we might need to be generously buzzed. Liquor store it is. I adjusted my collar before I headed out the door.

I decided on four bottles of the grapefruit soju because she really likes tart flavors. She always made fun of me for liking the sweeter sojus, but I’ll let her think she has the better taste tonight. The drinks were hidden away in a plastic bag tucked under my feet. I tried to settle in my seat towards the back as I checked my watch again for the fifteenth time. It was now 5 minutes after the starting time. Guess both the show and my girlfriend(?) are running late. My hands automatically began scratching at the already chipped polish on my nails. She’s been uncharacteristically calm during this fight; I wonder if she’ll stay that way once she sees me.

[cutiecrates]

Cutie Reviews: Sakuraco March 21

I’m so sorry anyone who was waiting for this DX after getting it I realized that I should take a day or two enjoying everything, rather then opening it all at once. I got it Tuesday so my goal was to get it up Wednesday, then Thursday.

So then wouldn’t you know, when I got to begin working on this the first time, my laptop decides it don’t want to cooperate. Anyway, it seems to be fine again so we’re going to get into this. I hope you’re excited!

For anyone who might be unfamiliar with the blog, or hasn’t seen my post covering this new branding. Sakuraco is by the popular Japanese-themed series of subscription boxes from Tokyo Treat. What makes this different from their normal snack box, is that this one is more focused on the local unique items that you usually wouldn’t see outside of Japan, elegant snacks for tea, pastries, pretty utensils, and so on.

As a reminder, I was given an offer that grants me a bonus of 4 items. These seem to range to unique items and some repeats of the box content.

“Over the past year, our team has worked hard preparing Sakuraco and we are eager to finally share our hard work with you! While this year has been full of challenges for many, we hope to bring you a moment of indulgence and cultural discovery that you’ll look forward to every month.“

Before I get into the contents I wanted to take a moment to go over the book. It’s really thick, which made me start theorizing that this could be why the other brand booklets became thinner around this time last year. You might have seen me comment on that in some reviews.

Inside the book you get a greeting page, and a page featuring the team who worked on the box. We get pages covering the items in the box, the month’s theme and various special things about Japan; such as a page on Niigata prefecture, and pages related to Hanami/Cherry Blossom Viewing. Lastly, there is the photo contest page, and some social media stuff. The book also covers the makers of the items, if they are Vegetarian friendly, and have any allergens.

Sweet Sakura Tea

Our first two items are tea drinks, one was a bonus however, so I won’t be going into detail as I can’t exactly tell what it was supposed to be. This one however, was one of the main vocal points of the box, and very exciting! This tea only requires this pickled sakura/cherry blossom flower and very hot water. As you combine the two, the flower opens and you’re free to drink it. You can also re-use the flower to bake with if you wanted.

This tea comes from Japan Green Tea Center in Tokyo. This is vegetarian and includes no allergens.

♥ 

I hope I don’t offend anyone, but I didn’t like this. I mean, I don’t like tea very much to begin with but this doesn’t even taste like tea- it tasted like the salty water I throw together and gargle with when I have mouth work done, or throat soreness. It was really pretty to watch/try, but it’s taste isn’t for me. I guess I just have an immature palette.

Sakura Konpeito

In this box, we’ll also be seeing some items exclusively made for/by it. This was our first of those items, little konpeito (sugar candies resembling little stars, those things Mario collects in the Mario Galaxy series). These are by Sasaki Confections, veg friendly and no allergens.

♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ 

You’ve tried one basic konpeito, you have tried them all. I like how these ones are smaller though, and their colors are so pretty~

Sakura Monaka & Strawberry Castella

I decided to only name the items the box  is supposed to have, rather then add in the names of the bonus items. The reason this plate looks so full is because the Monaka came in 2 shapes, and the small pink thing is a bonus item. It’s a little piece of mochi, I think specifically ohagi. It’s small and the very cute, it was also fun to squish both in and out of the package :D I’m not sure about the flavor, it seems to be plain/sugary, but there’s a hint of something vaguely like coconut.

Next up is the baby Dorayaki nearby. Not much to say, it was very basic with red bean filling, just several times smaller than normal.

 - - - -

Next up, the Monaka, which as I said above came in 2 shapes and features a cute print resembling a cup or bowl with a brush used to whisk matcha. This one’s by Ito Confectionery in Nagano, veg friendly, no allergens. Filled with red bean, it has notes of sakura and a thin, melt in your mouth pink wafer outside.

♥ ♥ ♥ 

I like the taste of wafer, which is pretty non-existent. These are especially soft and melty, they stick to your lips a little. I can’t really confirm the scent of the sakura (my nose isn’t very reliable <3< it only works some times), but the red bean filling is very tasty, so I’d like to say it’s in there. I usually don’t entirely enjoy red bean, but it didn’t bother me here.

- - - -

The castella is a thin cake-like sandwich usually filled with cream, in this case strawberry! This is by Nisshindo Confectionery in Nagano, veg friendly, but it has soybeans, milk, egg, and flour in it. The cake itself is made from brown sugar, and it has a very light, airy texture.

♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥

It seems kind of plain/basic when you look at it, and you don’t really get much cream. But it was still tasty in a gentle, delicate kind of way. Some people might say it’s underwhelming, but it offers a nice contrast to the other contents and you can still taste the cream. 

Sakura Madeleine, White Peach Castella, & Uji Matcha Castella

(sorry for the lighting, it was the next morning when I took this picture)

The madeleine comes from Ebisu Confectionery in Osaka. Veg friendly, but it has the same allergens as those listed above. You can see an image of it opened in the next pic, but I’ll talk about it here. It has sakura extract worked into the dough prior to baking. It resembles a muffin, or non-decorated cupcake.

♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥

I actually can’t remember this one in exact detail, but I know I liked it. It offered that hint of Sakura in a good way, and had a fluffy texture.

- - - -

These other two are another type of Castella Cake, which basically resemble a slice of plain cake. One is made from matcha/green tea, while the other is white peach. Both come from Ash Food Confectionery, located in Okayama. Both veg friendly, but they have the same allergens already listed, plus peach. 

The matcha cake features a red beans baked into the dough, while the white peach uses peach puree.

♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥

Both were very delicious x3 the cake was soft and moist, they tasted very fresh. I’m not big on green tea but I didn’t hate that one at all, I LOVED the peach one a lot though. It was sweet and the peach flavor was very noticeable. I’d recommend it out of the two, but both were winners in my book :3

Strawberry Dorayaki & Sakura Strawberry Crepe Roll

The madeleine ended up here because I completely forgot I already took it’s picture. I reviewed it above, so just try to ignore it’s presence here. Also, the plate you see being used was included with the box :3 isn’t it lovely~?

I’ll start with the crepe as there isn’t much to say, it’s in the packaging beneath the other two. It was all broken apart so I left it in the pack until I wanted to eat it. It comes from Nakajima Taishodo in Osaka, veg friendly, typical allergens. It has sakura worked into the batter to provide scent, and thin strawberry filling prior to being rolled up.

♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ 

Broken or not it still tasted good. The flavoring was light but noticeable, so I enjoyed it.

- - - -

Our dorayaki comes from Hiyoshi Confectionery in Shimane, featuring the semi-sweet, pancake-esque treat (another type of castella) with strawberry jam and red bean filling. Veg friendly, features flour and egg allergens.

The booklet suggests eating this with the sakura tea as it should enhance the flavors of the filling.

♥ ♥

It’s on the dry side, not enough to make someone choke. The pancake outside has a faint maple scent and it’s not very sweet, and I can’t really say I was a big fan of the filling. It only tastes like red bean to me, I couldn’t notice any sign of strawberry.

Peach Sandwich, Red Bean Taiyaki, & Sakura Mochi Monaka

Our first snack comes from Bankokuya in Kagoshima, veg friendly, typical allergens; but oddly, no peach allergen. There is traces of alcohol in it though, which I didn’t even notice. It’s a simple, cake-like sandwich filled with peach cream.

♥ ♥ ♥ ♥

The cake outside has a grainy, sugary texture which I wasn’t a huge fan of. But the cake is soft and the peach filling was sweet and fluffy~

- - - - -

Next up is a Monaka with mochi filling, from Tenkei Confectionery in Nagano. Veg friendly, includes egg. The monaka wafer is filled with a red bean mochi flavored with sakura petals baked inside,

♥ ♥ 

For as much as I like unique textures, I found this to be... too unique for me. The combination of crispy wafer didn’t go with the soft and squishy mochi inside. The mochi wasn’t my favorite either, but it wasn’t bad.

 - - - - -

Our last item here is another Sakuraco exclusive, a red bean taiyaki created by Haraya in Shimame. Veg friendly, typical allergens. Taiyaki is a fluffy, soft snack similar to the dorayaki (minus the maple flavoring), which is usually filled with red bean, cream, or chocolate. There’s even a special pan one can purchase in order to make them, and they are very popular.

♥ ♥ ♥ 

It’s soft and maybe a little dry, but I was mainly impressed with the detail on it, given how small it is. It’s really cute x3 Again, I’m not the biggest fan of red bean, and this was filled with it. So if you like it, you’d probably love this, but if you never tried it before or are like me, it’s sort of a meh thing. 

Sakura Senbei, Sakura Shrimp Senbei, & Sakurasen Cracker

Believe it or not, but we do get some savory items in here too! I love rice, especially when it’s in senbei form like this. These are each made by different companies and locations, so let’s start with the mini-sakura, shall we?

These are by Sakurado Confectionery in Niigata, and surprisingly are not veg friendly- because they include shrimp, flour, soybeans, and gelatin. They include soy sauce flavoring.

♥ ♥ ♥

Besides being really cute, they were pretty good. I wanted to love these and thought I would... but there is a shrimpiness that I could identify even without knowing it was in them. I used to like shrimp but for some reason I can’t stand it now. It bothered me a little, but it wasn’t a deal breaker.

- - - - -

Our rounded senbei comes from Sugi Confectionery in Aichi. It’s not veg friendly, and is made from flour, soybean, and squid. It has a mellow flavor and is a season limited edition item for Spring only, featuring the taste of Sakura.

The sakura-shaped senbei is from Kanazawa Kenroku Confectionery in Mie. Contains shrimp, not veg friendly.

♥ 

I felt the same way about both of them honestly. I tasted the fishiness so I really couldn’t tolerate them very much. Especially the round one, it’s crunch bordered on being unpleasant for me, but I loved the puffy-crunch of the other one. While they weren’t my favorites of the box, my mom (an avid seafood lover) liked them, in fact I think they perked her up a little that day when I gave them to her. She returned from chemo and was pretty hungry. 

Yoshino Kuzamochi

I saved this item for last because I was the most excited for it! This one comes from Nakajima Taishodo again. Kuzamochi is like a stiff jello, usually with little taste that you enhance using things such as a caramel, maple, or brown sugar sauce and/or kinako powder, which tastes a bit like peanut butter in my opinion. It contains soy beans (you roast them to get kinoko powder), and is veg friendly.

♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ 

I know it doesn’t look very aesthetically pleasing (I made a little heart on top though~) but it tastes so yummy! The plain kuzamochi didn’t have much flavor, but adding both the sauce and kinako really adds to it. The brown sugar makes it sweet, while the kinako adds a gentle, toasty earthiness. The texture might be a little off-putting to some, given it’s jello-ish consistency, but I loved it.

Opinions

Content - 3 out of 5. One thing was broken but otherwise everything was great. I did have a couple of items I didn’t particularly like the taste of but it was so exciting to try everything! 

Theme: 4.5 out of 5. It was an elegant feeling box, by that I mean, seeing all the flowery inspiration and items. It was kind of nice how the first box they made actually matched up with the name, but that was probably just a coincidence. There was a couple of items that didn’t fit the theme, but that’s a bit trivial.

Total Rank: 8 out of 10 Cuties. For the first box, I thought it was just lovely. As I said, I had some complaint over taste but you can’t please everyone. I was so excited to get this box, everything was fun to try, and I love learning more about Japan so I appreciate how full our booklet is x3 I can tell they put a lot of effort into making this box, so I can’t wait to see what else they have in store for us!

[dreamworksconvict]

She-Ra: Racism Problem Pt. 1

Thanks to this post by @dyke-ra​ for inspiring me to write about this topic, I’m going to have to split this up cause there’s so much to talk about.... 

I worked a bit on my thesis today, which is about LGBTQIA+ representation in kid’s/young adult’s cartoons, and as soon as I got home I stumbled upon a post on my dash (reblogged by @highqualititty​ who has Very Good Art so check them out) and I was like!!!!! This is exactly what I was writing about with VLD and Steven Universe!!!! It reminds me a lot of this image by @racistz

So I want to point out some of the problems with She-Ra that I’ve noticed and that other people in the fandom have noticed as well, and talk about them in the context of Hollywood history, tropes/stereotypes, and well... colonialism. 

There will be spoilers for She-Ra Season 3 so be warned. I’m also writing this kinda stream-of-consciousness-esque so apologies if it’s a bit jumbled.

PART I: Character Design - 1. Catra

Ok, so let’s start with Character Design. I want to focus on Catra and Mara for this. If people want I can talk about some of the worries I have about Huntara too. 

Let’s start with Catra, and let’s do a little comparison. 

Catra and Sugilite share a startling number of design traits. Pay particular note to the fact that they’re both seen as wild, misguided characters. Neither of these characters is coded as white. I would say Sugilite is pretty obviously a racist caricature of a black woman, not that Catra doesn’t have these tropes as well, but that Sugilite’s design and character traits have been widely discussed, especially in the really excellent article “All These Black Characters and 0 Done Right — How Steven Universe Fails Its Black Fanbase, Part I“ (there is no part II, as I believe the writer, Riley H, got essentially bullied into silence). In actuality, however, both of them have a lot of similarities. I’ll be using a lot of evidence about the coding of black women in media primarily, but there are a lot of other tropes you can find about other ethnic or racial codings as well. A lot of these tropes are also defined as being in the past, but there are still clear reverberations of them in the present, as I try to show here.

Riley H notes the Jezebel stereotype in the article I mentioned, which Catra seems to fall into somewhat. The Jim Crow Museum at Ferris State University says that “The descriptive words associated with this stereotype are singular in their focus: seductive, alluring, worldly, beguiling, tempting, and lewd. Historically, white women, as a category, were portrayed as models of self-respect, self-control, and modesty - even sexual purity, but black women were often portrayed as innately promiscuous, even predatory.” While Catra’s design does not have the same obvious extreme-hourglass shape that Sugilite’s does in its emphasis of hips and chest (jesus Rebecca Sugar, what were you thinking), Catra’s chest and hips are still accentuated with triangle designs that point to those areas; Catra’s hips are also decorated with strappy belts. Her pants are also ripped at the thighs, and she doesn’t wear shoes. She also wears skin-tight clothing; compare to Adora, who gets a big baggy coat, a long-sleeved shirt, and non-ripped pants (and shoes). Catra is also wearing red, a color associated with passion; while Adora’s jacket is red, she is most often seen in white, a color associated with purity. Plus, check out Glimmer’s fantasy imagery from S2, which is supposed to be a reference to the OG She-Ra but does not take into account that THESE ARE STILL TEENAGERS???: 

Also note that Catra’s arc thus has far has focused on her losing self-control and self-respect, while Adora’s arc has focused on her gaining those traits instead. 

Two other stereotypes are important to acknowledge here: the Sapphire stereotype, which “popularly portrayed black women as sassy, emasculating and domineering. Unlike the Mammy figure, this trope depicted African American women as aggressive, loud, and angry - in direct violation of social norms,” and the black brute stereotype, which typically referred to black men but stereotyped them as “animalistic and brutish.” Catra is literally made animalistic by being part cat--if your defense is, “oh, well that’s just how she was in the original,” 1) things can you know... improve over time 2) it’s still really, really bad even if it was “used in the past series” and 3) she’s also covered in scars on her arms, which is an addition to her design that makes her seem like she gets into more fights than Adora and other Horde soldiers and/or had a rough past, making her more “brutish”/prone to fighting than the others. (Contrast to Adora’s now-revealed past where she was a Magic Baby Destined Hero from the Savior Planet.) 

Plus, she still falls into the Sapphire trope. Adora was the favorite of the Horde, while Catra was the rebel and “too outspoken.”  Catra is also punished more than others for failing to succeed in missions--Hordak even attempts to have her executed, despite the fact that most of his generals have also been failing just as much. Catra still talks back to him, and rarely is shown afraid--more often than not, she’s shown making “sassy” quips and talking down to others. Adora gets many more scenes of emotional vulnerability and growth. Both are/were members of the Horde as well and grew up traumatized, but Catra’s trauma villainizes her (although she may still get a redemption arc at some point) while Adora’s does not. 

She is also very masculinized (is that a word?? oh well) when with Adora. She even takes the role of the “male dance partner” in the ball episode when they dance together, and is wearing a suit and tie (untied, to still depict that “wild” side). Look to Riley H’s article which discusses how Garnet in SU often takes the more masculine roles in fusion dances--there are clear parallels. While this inherently isn’t a problem, it’s a common trope that PoC women characters are made to be more masculine than their white counterparts. On top of this, much like how Pearl (white-coded) is the only one who can get through to Sugilite once she’s gone “out of control” (see the episode “Coach Steven”), Adora, the white savior (I will get to this problem later), is presumed to be the only one who can “get” to Catra or influence her behavior (although Scorpia made attempts, but she is also white...). 

In summary: Catra is portrayed as animalistic, wild, prone to fights, and masculine especially in comparison to white-coded characters. Her arc thus far has made her a foil to Adora, but in doing so has followed a lot of stereotypical tropes and has heightened Adora’s position as a White Savior, especially post-S3. 

(I didn’t talk about the “evil lesbian” trope, but since there are so many queer-coded characters on both sides, I am not sure if that trope applies here. I may make another post regarding that specific trope though if people would like. Essentially we’re getting dangerously close to that potential premise.)

2. Mara

Ok, so if you haven’t heard, Mara (the previous incarnation of She-Ra) was whitewashed in the earlier seasons of the show. Let the images provide the evidence, Season 3 vs prior: 

Yikes...

I have seen an apology floating around on Tumblr from someone who worked on the show who claims they just didn’t notice this... which like, ok, maybe. There is also speculation that maybe they decided to design Mara this way last-minute. I’ve also seen some theories that She-Ra’s “form” is a white woman regardless of who wields the sword but that would be Super Yikes so let’s hope it’s not that. 

There are plenty of resources available about why whitewashing characters is bad, although it’s somewhat unusual for this to be a discussion in animation. (Typically the discussion happens when Scarlett Johansson plays a character who isn’t white or cis for the ten billionth time.) But something similar did happen with Voltron: Legendary Defender on the cover of one of their comics. Check out this nonsense:

Like how to do you mess up, that bad?!!?!?!?

In any case, I believe a reprint was issued (much) later for this particular cover, but the fact remains that this is becoming enough of a problem that people should be checking for this. This whitewashing took place in the actual She-Ra episode and wasn’t caught beforehand by editors? Suspicious, and embarrassing...

Also, this doesn’t necessarily have to do with character design or whitewashing, but I am Suspicious that Mara had to sacrifice herself to save the planet while Adora did not... remind anyone of Allura? Anyone???? There is a whole problematic history regarding that which I can get into on a separate post as well. But since we don’t know exactly what happened to Mara yet, I’m leaving that alone for now. 

----

So that’s the gist of the character design piece of the puzzle! Next I want to talk about the White Savior trope in She-Ra and how it’s really similar to Voltron and Steven Universe in that respect. 

IS this all a bit of a reach? Maybe some of it?! But I doubt that ALL of it is. (The whitewashing definitely is not.) And the fact is that there has been a ton of problems with holistic representation in cartoons, and She-Ra isn’t trying to do anything different to counteract the bad stuff that’s been done before. In fact, it’s kind of following the same pattern as its predecessors. Characters, even non-human ones like Sugilite, are coded a certain way, and those codings are based off internalized systems of how we view the world and interpret it. So if you have a writer who’s not really closely examining those beliefs and systems without challenging them, you end up with stuff that follows all these problematic tropes and stereotypes. 

I’m planning for my thesis to go over why I think this happens so often (mostly a lack of intersectionality). essentially I’m in way over my head and will have like, a 100 page thesis plus a creative piece too by the end of this and it’s due this fall cause i deferred it oooooh my gosh. Anyways! There will be more if you like. 

[datingintampafails]

Chapter 16: Ethan*: Part One

Ethan* was the one where when I said to my friends, “I don’t want to have to write a stupid ‘dating in Tampa’ chapter about this guy…. He’s a good egg.” But here I am, writing it. 

I matched with Ethan* on Bumble during a super busy work week, we chatted about things briefly on the app, and I mentioned that I might be able to do a video chat rather than an in-person date easier that week because of my schedule. He agreed to it and asked if that night would work. So our first date is a rather spontaneous video date. I made dinner for myself and was eating it about 20 minutes before our time we picked up, when a piece of mozzarella got stuck in my throat and I was choking. I managed to dislodge the mozzarella cheese stuck in my throat, but was afraid my voice might be weird since I had just stuck my hand down my throat to save my own life.

He had said that he tended to be a little awkward on the phone. Despite the disclaimer, I found him to be perfectly fine on the phone. I told him about my near death experience prior to the call, and we had a laugh about it. We gave each other tours of our homes. He owns his and has completely renovated his place, which is pretty cool. I admired the handiwork of his home, especially the “shiny floors” that he had redone. I learn some quirks about him, such as being homeschooled until college and that he doesn’t like chocolate (weird). He also had mentioned that he was born in Northern Virginia, about ten minutes away from where I grew up and lived there until he was five, before moving to St. Pete. He never had typical pets, but did take care of some squirrels and some lizards, straight Florida kid shit. We ended the call recognizing we got along and generally understood each other. I knew he was 26 but turns out that I was like ten days short of exactly a year older. He immediately after said he was “excited to hang out... soon.” and that we seem to have a lot in common. Agreed.

I let him know that I have some questions for him before that, but that I’ll get to them. The next day, rather than doing that, my friend Lauren inspires me to make a legitimate dating application. I create this thorough Google form, which includes serious questions, as well as some less serious questions which are unfortunately inspired by my previous dating experience, i.e. do you chew with your mouth open? are you a warlock?, etc. I send this to him, and he hesitantly does it after I ask him to. His comment at the end is “I thought this was dumb, but I actually had fun.” From this form, I learn that truly Ethan* does have some similar goals to me. He also doesn’t want children. I ask what people are looking for and he responds with “Unsure yet, but I am open to anything from casual friends with benefits all the way up to a long term relationship if we are a good match. I don't have any future goals but I enjoy companionship and sex and seek these out in a partner.“ Seems like a fair expectation, which is kind of where I am at too. I send that same application to different people that I’ve matched with at the time, but Ethan* is definitely my front runner.   

This guy didn’t really match up to my usual douchebag energy guy I usually go for. He was a college athlete, wide receiver and ran track, and definitely still kept up with his physique. He had curly bronde hair that was slightly receding on the sides, a six-pack, and nicely sculpted shoulders and back. I knew ahead of time he was on the shorter side, that is, not over six feet tall. He owns a boat and also has a pilot’s license and flies planes for fun. Things that were definitely unique and super cool. He asked me if I would ever go flying with him, to which I enthusiastically said that would be cool. He didn’t know that learning to fly is also something on my bucket list, I would actually never have the chance to tell him. 

That weekend, a few days after our virtual date, I was finally done with my marathon of working long days and said I would be down for meeting up. He mentions his plans with his friends were canceled that night, and we decide to do something that night. I let him know I have an appointment and can come over after that, around 6. We discuss what we are going to do, we decide on a night in. I suggest tacos, however, he responds by asking if I like Chipotle. I inform him that since we live in a place where there are much greater options for local taco places, which aren’t Chipotle and basic, we should get that instead.  He then suggests a place by him we can go to, and we agree on that. However, this is also coming from a guy who said Papa Johns was his favorite type of pizza. With pineapple. 

I go for a comfy but not trying too hard look for that night. Some athletic leggings from Uniqlo, and a crop top. Ironically, I believe that exact ensemble is in one of my photos on Bumble, in hindsight. I excitedly text him about it being 7/11, which is free slurpee day, and ask if we can go. He says there’s a 7 Eleven by him that we can go to. I finished my appointment, which was actually a lip and eyebrow wax, and drove to his place. He asks me to park on the street so that he can drive his car to the taco place, and I sarcastically tell him that he’s going to have to drive around my car in the driveway. I then mention I’m on the way and will see him soon.

Usually, by the time I am going to meet someone in person, I have given them my number or other ways to contact me outside of the original app. My friend had suggested to me that I try to stay on these apps communication wise, until a successful first date. I was trying to follow this advice and since Ethan* and I were still communicating exclusively on Bumble, I was following that advice. Granted, he hadn’t really asked me either to change communication methods, so it worked out.

 I message him “Aqui” when I pull up to his house, and as I start to get my things out of my car he emerges from the front door to greet me. Immediately as I walk up and analyze him, I feel bad as a wave of disappointment falls over me. He in no way lied about his height on his profile, but definitely I overestimated how tall his height was. Otherwise, he was 100% authentic and who he said he was. He meekly asks about my appointment and if everything is okay, specifically asking if it was a doctors’ appointment. I admit I was actually getting a wax, then he compliments me saying that my brows look really nice and he otherwise wouldn’t have said anything as it would seem weird.

I then say I’m hungry and we should go get food. I get out to his car, which is a super nice Jeep Grand Cherokee, with a leather interior. Despite the nice car, I look down at the floor of the passenger seat, which is entirely covered in discard receipts. 

I mention this to him, and he gets super embarrassed about forgetting to clear his car before I arrived. Upon looking at the receipts as I help him clean, I recognize many of them are from Taco Bell. We bond however over the amazingness of Baja Blast being the ultimate drink. I insist we go to 7 Eleven first to get our slurpees, since I don’t want the food getting cold/soggy. We find out it isn’t really free slurpee day, due to COVID-19, and instead it’s a get a medium free next time with your membership there or something. So I get a medium anyway, so at least mine is free.

Next, we pull up to the taco joint, which is basically you walk up to a door to order. We discuss the menu and agree that fish is gross. He orders for us both, which I love, and sit briefly at a colorful picnic table outside of the restaurant. We are there not even one minute, when he asks if we can go to the little market that’s next to the restaurant. I say sure, and we browse the market. He picks up some apples and some grapes, and we just sort of look around. We are joking around and I quiz him on the “best type of apple,” which is sort of an inside joke at my full time job. 

He finishes his purchases and we sit at a different picnic table, while waiting again for our food. They bring it out and we take it back to his place. In the car he’s going between rap and pop music. I’m more or less into anything but country, so it’s a fair vibe. I figure since he was on a football team, that was probably what he was used to listening to in the locker room. 

Now that we’re back at his place, I excuse myself to the restroom. A man’s private restroom always says something about the man. Does he clean his bathroom? How many products does he have? Does he have that singular shampoo/conditioner/body wash combo bottle in his shower? His toilet definitely could use a scrub, same with his shower, but otherwise pretty well kept and he had separate products in his shower. 

I’m still feeling iffy about the guy due to his height, and when I sit down on the cough with him, he asks if I like South Park. Unfortunately we find out that South Park has been taken off Hulu and so we look for a back up. Then he asks about Rick and Morty; I love that show, so we turn that on for us to watch while we eat. He too is a couch eater, which is good since his dining table literally has no chairs around it. 

We share some laughs, we eat the food, we drink the slurpees. Once there’s no longer food to eat, he asks if I want to cuddle. I say “uhm okay.” I remember a message he had sent me the day before where I said I hope he doesn’t try to cuddle in my lap like my dog, and he had responded “what if I did? jk. but really do you like to cuddle?” And I’m wondering if I’ve gotten myself into a stage 5 clinger situation. Somehow I become like the guy, as he is nuzzled onto my belly and I have my arm around him. Later he asks to spoon, and I’m like yeah that’s fine. As I’m sure that’s less awkward than what we’re doing now. Though if I wasn’t so uncertain about him, the previous position probably would have been cute and endearing. While we were cuddling, we talked about goals and briefly about my application. He talks more about how he flies planes on the side, and that his goal is to join the National Guard as a pilot. The cut off is 32, so essentially he wanted to gain more and more flying experience so he could join before the cutoff. I have never really been particularly interested in being involved with someone in the military, so that was almost a turn off for me. However, I did this it was good that he had solid goals he was continually working on.

Regardless, I’m still having a good time. He’s a nice and entertaining guy, and we mesh well. It starts to get late, so I mention it’s time I go. Before I leave, I remember we have still only been talking via Bumble, I ask him for his number. I then realize I also don’t know his last name, so I also ask for his last name. I realize his initials are “Eh,” which I find humorous, so I text him “eh” to let him know it’s me. Which also described how I was feeling at that moment. 

He then walks me to my car and I give him a hug, and then he kisses me. Even though I wasn’t really feeling kissy after this date, I realize it is actually a really nice kiss and tell him I’ll let him know when I get home. I think back to Aaron* where he wasn’t the best kisser, and think oh well that’s nice. 

I get home and stew over the date, thinking about what I’m going to do about this guy. He texts me the next day saying “Would it be bad if I already wanted to see you again tonight?” I tell him I have plans, which isn’t a lie, I do, and let him know I’m free the next night. We set up another hang out at his place. 

In my mind, I determine the way I’ll figure out my feelings is to sleep with him. “If the sex is good,” I think to myself, “then that should get me over the height thing. And if it’s terrible, then I’m outtie anyway.”